Broken Thoughts





The Journals of John Truman Carter
May 21st 2000 1:00 p.m.

This was Benton's last day here. He shouldn't have stayed as long as he did, but I guess he felt some obligation to be here. That's three days vacation time I'll owe him somewhere down the road. You know the one with the many exits and turn offs. The road I'm on is so uncertain right now. All the assurance that I'll be accepted with open arms after my foray here is something that I can' count on. But, maybe...just maybe I'll try to take that chance. But that's neither here nor there right now.

I still haven't talked to him. I'm kind of glad. I wasn't in much shape to speak to him earlier. I know he talked to both my doctors. Yea, I get to have two. One for my mind and one for my back. I gave them permission to disclose anything he wanted to know. If it wasn't for him I wouldn't be here. Hmm, want an ironic statement. True and untrue in many ways. I'm the reason I'm here, but at the same time if he hadn't forced me in that van, I wouldn't be here either.

I am having one of my "break" periods. Since there is not much to do here I went over to one of the basketball courts. Of course I wasn't really in the mood for a game of hoops, then again for some reason there wasn't anybody around. So here I am again, isolating myself from others. There's nothing wrong with me not wanting to talk to a bunch of strangers about my problem. All of these people couldn't possibly know what kind of hell I've been through. Most of them couldn't take the stress on the job or have had personal problems and have turned to various substances.

Hello, I was stabbed in the back, TWICE, at work! At the place that I have felt the most at home. I was left for dead, to lay on the cold tile and if that wasn't enough my only remaining memories were going to be that of my friend and student dying in front of my eyes. A student for whom I did not have the patience to instruct or deal with and whom I left alone with a mentally deranged man. No doctor I don't have a problem with guilt, honest.

Is it so far fetched that I would be left to my own devices after all the initial concern for my health was over with? I survived, everyone at work was concerned and all I ever wanted were for things to go back to normal. Only problem was that physically I wasn't up to par or up to the kinds of tolls at work that are required of me. So, yes to all who will listen I started taking larger does of my pain meds! Let's not forget that I was stabbed in the back, but all the surgery was performed by opening me up from my abdomen. How about this, let's imagine at your typical job that you have to work overtime every day. That would be exhausting. Now imagine that anytime you have to reach, bend, turn around, stretch or move around quickly that a thousands sharp needles all at the same time get shoved into your back, then ride down into your leg. Then if that wasn't enough, your gut at the same time feels as if there was someone pushing a fork out of it from the inside. Now tell me if you knew there was something you could do about would you?

There was this song playing on the radio right before I left to come out here. The words...they were...interesting ..they were


"I hurt myself today,
To see if I still feel,
I focus on the pain,
The only thing that's real,
The needle tears a hole,
The old familiar sting,
Try to kill it all away,
But I remember everything


That's me. That's my problem, not so much the physical pain, I mean that really bothers me, impedes my function. My ability to get away. I don't really focus on the pain; maybe I let it remind me of all that I have done. All that I didn't do that night. I just want it all to go away. But the song's right, ....I remember everything. As much as I try to avoid it or distance my self or keep myself busy. I will always have every horrible second of that night imprinted in my head. The noise, the visions, the horror of that night never leaves me be. It haunts me at all hours, stealing my sleep, invading my dreams. I...I don't necessarily relive that night, it just pops up in one way or another during the day. I can go without it sometimes a day or so, but there is always something to remind me of it.

There were some more lines. I just really got caught up in the beginning. The man's voice was so haunting. He said it slowly enunciating every symbol, as if you were meant to memorize and recite at some other time. The end really got to me, though.


"What have I become?
My sweetest friend,
Everyone I know,
Goes away in the end,
You can have it all,
My empire of dirt,
I will let you down,
I will make you hurt,
If I could start again,
A million miles away,
I would keep myself,
I would find a way.


What have I become? ...... I don't now. I keep asking myself that. Have I changed? What has the accident...no the attack done to me. Will I become this hardened person,...no I don't think so. I still want to help people, I still care. It hasn't changed my view of the world. I'm a bit more cautious around certain patients. Paranoid, ..maybe. I'm scared. Really..I am. I've always let others down,... displeased them I some way. Being an over achiever never got me anywhere. It was expected. Nothing more.

If I could start again. Oh boy...if I could. There would be so much I would change. But, I can't think about that. Not now, ..it won't get me anywhere. Maybe I wanted to just find a way to ...what to just keep going? Like the song said, I would find a way. I guess now....well it was the wrong way.

Wow, I'm really depressed. I mean I've never noticed it before. Is it me who's depressed... the post traumatic thing? What's the real me? I just want to find myself again. Be Carter, you know the one who didn't screw up all the time. The one that did his job, was happy. I just want to be a doctor. I just want to help people....I.. God, crying alone. Hmm, that's going to look really good. Maybe I'll come to this later.


Journals of John Truman Carter
May 21 2000 5:00 p.m.


I'm sorry... I think I went on the deep in there a little while ago. I'm glad no one reads these things but me. Gee, who am I apologizing to? Me? Its just well, the doctors here really cut down on my prescription and I'm not feeling very well. Not like I have tremors or anything. Its just well, I can't move around a lot as I did without the pain returning. My "new" doctor is of the opinion that while I masked my pain at work I was furthering injuring myself. Not any new injuries per say, I just wasn't allowing my body to heal. This means that I am being weaned off my medication and my body is letting me know how much its pissed at me for not letting it rest the first time.

Well it looks like my time for rest is over. I can see Benton walking over here. I 'm not really prepared about what to say to him. I'm...I don't know what to say. Here's my chance.


Journals of John Truman Carter
May 21 2000 8:00 p.m.


I've been wrong. I've....never been really alone, I've just let myself believe that was all that I would ever me. Alone. I ...I just said goodbye to Benton. It was rough, another one of those roller coaster rides that I've been subjected to. He came up to me kind of quietly with that head of his bowed down,...like he didn't want to look me in the eye. I knew why. I spent so much time trying to earn his respect and when I finally had it for a while I became, No.... I let him down. I was prepared to just tell him and thanks and walk away. But, this was Benton he had other plans.

He walked over to where I was sitting. I got up so he wasn't also, LOOKING down at me. Whoops, forgot about those reduced movements. I was half way up when the spasm hit and I grabbed a hold of the fence for dear life. I closed my eyes as I saw his concerned face. He grabbed my shoulder as I was riding out the wave. I didn't want to open my eyes, wished him away. I didn't want his pity. I did it to myself. But, I couldn't keep them close forever and I felt his grip loosen a bit.

I straightened myself up and looked at him sort of sheepishly. I said, "Just a twinge, I'm fine." Regretted it as soon as I said it. I couldn't help it; the words were a reflex. He kind of gave me that "look" and shook his head.

"Carter", he said, "Stop being so god damned stubborn!" That's what he said. Didn't ask if I was OK, or do you want me to get you something. I was shocked, well good we're over that particular hill. I started walking away, I still don't know why. Well, it was mostly a walk. Sort of left, right, left, shuffle, left, right, shuffle. No, I wasn't limping....my muscles were sore. Didn't matter, Benton simply walked faster and cut me off.

"Running away again?" he asked me. Was that what I was doing? I wasn't running, I didn't want to hear any more lectures...all I wanted was to say goodbye to say....I stopped walking. I looked up at him and I...

I started to cry. My mind screamed not again! Not in front of him! But, I couldn't act as if everything was all right. I knew that I screwed up, that I let things get out of hands, that I put myself and others in danger. That I did the one thing that I was used to all my life and that was shut others out. That oh my God...that ... I abused my rights as a doctor. I didn't realize that I said those things out loud. Great, he was going to be so...so ...disappointed in me.

Instead Benton just put his hand on my shoulder and told me it would all be all right. That I would be all right. I looked up at him again. Yea, I know I thought. I bit back the tears and told him that I would go through the program and follow all the steps. That I would follow all their instructions and be back at County soon. Then he said something I wouldn't forget.

He told me that this wasn't a challenge, or some procedure to master. That I wasn't here to be graded or try to win someone's acceptance. I needed help.

I knew that now, he didn't have to tell me. But, he went on cutting off any of my defensive comments. He told me he knew I would be fine. I finally understood that I was hiding from others and now I would let people in and help me. That he would be there to help me. That when I got back that I would have all the support that I needed. I wouldn't let him contiune, I yelled in between my sobbing. That I didn't expect everyone to watch over me, that it was my problem. Before he raised his voice over mine..I explained.

It was my problem, but I know that if I need it, that my colleagues...my friends would be there for me. I knew before, but I was in my abyss and couldn't see a way out. I ...I'm not afraid to ask for some support. That it wasn't weak for me to ask for it, that....that I wanted it now.

He stopped and stared at me. I stood toe to toe with him. I..I asked him if he would help me when I got back. He...was silent and he looked away. Then for a split second...for just a sliver of time....I thought I saw Peter Benton fight off tears. Tears for me. He simply said. "Any time, Carter, just ask and I'll be there for you, man. I promise."

I told him I knew he would. I just needed to hear him say it. I went up to him and hugged him. A manly hug, but one filled with so much more. I whispered in a low voice. I told him thank you. Thank you for caring enough to push harder than anyone would ever dare to. I stood back, and thanked him for being my friend.

He responded by telling me, "Thanks for letting me in". He told me I could call when I felt like it. He told me to get better. I told him I would. Not just for him, or the people at County, but for my self. Then he walked away. But, I knew that he wasn't leaving me. It was all up to me to find myself again. Then I would be back.


The lyrics were for the song "Hurt" by Nine Inch Nails. Who is Trent Reznor.



Part 5
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