The Night Shift

I’ve been home for a few weeks now. I’m out on disability. A bruised trachea  apparently takes a few weeks to heal. Who knew? The PTSD from being assaulted takes a lot longer. I wonder if I’ll ever feel comfortable seeing patients one-on-one again. I got into psychiatry because of Chris. At the time, I  didn’t realize it. But when I was deciding on my speciality, I think subconsciously I thought if I understood Chris better, I could save our relationship. Now, I know that the end wasn’t really about me. Chris had/ has his own demons and until he faces them, he’s never going be able to love someone.

One of the last conversations I had with Chris–when I thought that we still had a chance– was him saying to me “Do you have any idea how much I hate myself?” And I didn’t. How could I? I have moments of self-doubt and moments when I question myself, and call myself an idiot, but hate myself? Never.

I try to call out for Lily. My voice is still scratchy and doesn’t sound like me. I refill my mug of hot tea and return to the couch. I resume journaling. What can I say? How do I process this. A patient–a psychotic patient– tried to kill me with his bare hands. Chris also once tried to kill me once. He was in the midst of a PTSD flashback and didn’t really have the strength to do anything. But waking up with an arm across my trachea was a rude awakening. Literally..

My patient, however, had the strength of 1000 humans and if my co-workers hadn’t been there. . . or if I’d been in my office . . . well, I wouldn’t be here at all.

Originally, I had thought to do child and adolescent psychiatry. It was a more natural transition for someone who had always worked in pediatrics. I’ve recently applied for a C&A fellowship.. I know I wish I had had someone like me when I was a kid.

I think it’s time to start a new chapter in life. If I get the fellowship I’ve applied for, I’ll move across the country. To Seattle. Far away from Chris. Far away from the memories. I met Chris when I was 23 years old. He’s been a larger than life presence in my life almost my entire adult life. I am 36 years old. I think it’s time for me to move on from Chris. And if I need to move across the country to do it, then I guess that’s what I’ll do.

I keep my eyes closed. I think I’m in a hospital bed, but how did I get here? “Eliza, are you awake?”

I try to move my foot. I think it moves, but I have no way to tell

The voice is familiar, but I can’t quite place it. It sounds friendly. Maybe I should open my eyes to see who is calling my name.

I slowly open one eye and then the other. The face with the voice is fuzzy, but the first thing that comes into focus is green eyes. I immediately know who is at my bedside, but I wonder why? Do I have amnesia or something?

“Don’t try to speak. You have a bruised trachea. And you were intubated in the ER. Do you remember what happened?

I wonder what he means. Do I remember why we aren’t together anymore? Oh yeah, I definitely remember walking in on him fucking my co-worker. Do I remember what led me to be in the hospital with a bruised trachea? Not exactly.

I just shake my head no–just to be safe.

“I don’t know all the details as I wasn’t there, but best I can tell is a patient attacked you while you were seeing him. Several of your co-workers saved your life by charging him and pulling him off of you. He had you by the neck and you’d had already gone unconscious”

Huh…that might be why my memory is a little fuzzy on that. It still didn’t answer the question of why Chris was here instead of oh literally anyone else. One thing about us when we were together is that we could read each other like words on a page. I guess he still can.

“Why am I here?” I nodded. “I guess you never changed your emergency contact information and someone from the hospital called me. When I realized how serious it was, I came over. I’m sorry I don’t have your parents number anymore. I tried calling your number hoping I could get into your phone that way, but I guess you’ve changed your number. And password.

Damn straight buddy. I would have been content to never see you again. And you better believe that I’ll get right on that emergency contact update. As soon as I can.

I couldn’t speak and he didn’t speak for what seemed like the longest time.

“I’m sorry for what I did to you. You deserve better than what I did. You literally saved my life–more than once– literally and figuratively. I am a piece of shit for doing what I did. But never in my life have I been the popular kid at school and you were so busy with school and.residency. When she started being friendly with me, at first I didn’t know what was happening. It was kinda like when you and I began our friendship. You were dating other people so I didn’t know that you were in to me like that. And by the time I realized what was happening with her, it was too late. I didn’t want you to have to find out like that.”

I just stared up at the ceiling. I’m guessing crying with a bruised trachea is not the best idea, but I know if I look over at him, I’ll start to cry. He may be damn near 50 years old, but he still looks like a little kid I briefly wonder if he’s still with that hussy.

He read that thought too.

“I’m not married. Or dating anyone. I don’t think that’s in the cards for me anymore. I think I missed my chance. With you. You are the one that got away.

Here’s one time I wish I could speak, but I can’t so maybe he can telepathically read my thoughts. You told me about a million times that I was the love of your life. I still have in in cards, emails and texts.. You told me I saved you… I brought you back to life.. You said all the things I wanted to hear, and you made me fall in love with you. You encouraged my dreams and goals like no one ever had. I believed you and you made me believe that we had it all when in fact, you were just like most every one else.

When things got difficult, you got out. You may not have meant to get out. I’m quite certain if I hadn’t caught you, you never would have said anything. Better to not know that you are a cheating SOB or find out by seeing it with my own eyes..

“You really were the love of my life, Eliza, and I’m so incredibly sorry I fucked it all up.

I focused my gaze anywhere but his and remained painfully still because any reaction to this I’m just not sure I could control.

The Killers: Be Still

I have known Chris practically my entire adult life. Or at least I thought I did. It took three years for us to have a first date and another 18-months for us to live in the same city. And between then and now we had some amazing times. He inspired me to go back to medical school. For a brief moment in time, I had a fantasy that together we could rule medicine. He with the adults, and me with the tiny humans. And for a brief time, our life together was amazing. But then drugs entered the picture, and nothing was the same since. I stayed with him through med school and his rehabilitation phase, but like most things, it wasn’t real

Through four years of medical school, things were idyllic. Nobody describes medical school as idyllic, but I did. Living with Chris during medical school was the best of both worlds. I had a long term partner. I had security, And I had kind of a built in professor. His role as adjunct prof at the school he attended was a blessing in disguise.

Even MS-3, which is hard on many levels, was perfect. On the nights I had overnight call, Chris packed me lunch. He made sure I had clean clothes and food to eat. He made studying easy because all I had to worry about was learning. Life was taken care of. Our cat, Tigs, was cared for; I didn’t have to worry about ‘did I feed Tigs’ or did I scoop the poop because Chris did that too.

I matched to my second choice. First choice in programs; second in location. Too far to stay with Chris but not as far as when we started dating.

Intern year was hard. New city. New hospital. Learning a lot. Missing Chris. I got a cat. Her name is Lily.

Chris and I started to grow apart. I always assumed after intern year things would get better. And they did, for a while. But Chris was dealing with his own demons. And he stated shutting me out. And when he started shutting me out, I felt myself pulling back too. Self-protection, I guess. A couple days between face-times turned into a week, then weeks, turned into a month. Then one day, it was like we never existed.

He became someone I used to know and I hardly even knew myself.