Broken Thoughts





The Journals of Dr. Peter Benton
May 21 2000 10:00 p.m.

I'm on a plane again...alone. No passengers next me. I look over at the window and see nothing, but darkness. No stars or moon to gaze out, just a mass of emptiness. A space that is vast and unknown. I'm going home. Back to a place of security and ....It wasn't fair! I convinced him to go, to take that giant step and now I'm leaving him, like I did before. Alone into the void and I'm the beacon whose signal is getting farther away. No! I can't think like this, he's going to be fine, I ...I promised. Carter's an adult he can get along all right...he ..he has to.

He has two, count them two doctors to over look his care. I should know I personally went over his case with the both of them, while letting them know that if they did not make sure he received the ut most professional care that I would return and I would bring the wrath of God with me! I saw the fear in their eyes. Good that's what I'm used to. That's the routine. People...doctors fear my temper and follow my orders. They do it without question and the bend over backwards trying to please me. My approval is that I don't tear their heads off and I don't find anything wrong. That's considered adequate work. So, how come when I left and I saw someone with eyes full of fear, that I was...I was afraid too?

Because Carter you're one of the best damned doctors around and I will not let you piss it away! Its...its not really your fault, man, I'm not really mad at you. I'm ...I'm upset with me. Your medical doctor told me that you've caused yourself a set back. By returning to work too soon and masking your pain with all that medication that you've totally destroyed your recovery....all of MY hard work. I saw the MRI and it showed just some improvement from the one I saw in March. Who the hell was overlooking your care! It sure as hell wasn't me.

So, you're going to rest and heal for one. Then you are going sort through all your problems under correct supervision! Unlike the kind you got at County thanks to me and everyone there. Not that you helped things at all my shutting us out. You've always been such a great student. I'm glad that you still show the ability to learn. When I saw you sitting over there on the courts, I knew you were doing it again. Trying to fight your battles alone and losing miserably. I didn't drag you all the way here and have you think you were just being deposited as some ELSE's problem.

I was still ashamed at the fact that all of this happened and I didn't notice anything. I...I couldn't look you in the eye. I went up to tell you goodbye and to tell you that I would be there for you. I would support you in any way I could. Then, you got up too fast and I saw that you hurt yourself. I was really concerned because I saw the MRI, saw the inflamed tissue and unhealed muscles. It didn't look like you had injured yourself, but I kept my hand on your shoulder if you needed to lean on me. Then you told me you were fine or something. Some stupid bullshit remark!

Are you so used to lying to people and keeping them at a distance that it slides off your tongue like that? A twinge! Is that what you've been doing? Lying to yourself everyday. I never noticed before, but take a good look in the mirror Carter, you're...you're just a shell of a person right now. I got so mad, I yelled at you. I think that's the only way you listen now. Told you to stop being so damn stubborn. You tried to runaway again. Where were you going, man? Like you could get very far with that limp of yours. I ran past you and asked why you were running away. You broke down then, said something that I was happy and hurt to hear.

You didn't know man, but you won your first battle,...the hardest one. You let me in. You finally admitted to yourself that you needed and wanted help. The only way to do it was to ask and receive the support of others. This wasn't a test. We were not back in the surgery ward where you had to impress me or dazzle me with your skills. After that I knew you would be all right, that things would get better. I hugged you good bye. I'm.... Proud of you....I'm proud to me your friend.


Journals of Peter Benton
May 22 2000 2:00 p.m.

I'm not on until midnight, great a double shift. That's what I get for going away for a couple days. I spoke to Kerry and Mark on the phone while I was in Atlanta. Wanted them to know I was staying, that we got there all right. Weaver was really surprised when I requested a few days off to stay down there. You know when I was pulled into their little meeting I didn't know what was up. Weaver said it was important and I got there and Mark and Chen were there. What the hell was so important that a student was there?

Weaver told me about how Abby caught you injecting yourself with Fentanyl and I just stared at here with this glare. She shut right up. I think I said something didn't realize it like ..what the hell are you talking about? Weaver being her bossy self cut in by explaining all this supposed strange behavior. I denied it, thought they were all going off the deep end. But the more they talked the more I began to wonder. Were you really that bad off? I know now. I keep thinking what would have happened if I kept better tabs on you if I was you primary doctor after all the surgery was finished.

Then I stopped pacing and realized that I was going down the same lonely path, which you got lost on. Guilt. You made...you're making me feel guilty. I'm self-analyzing past events trying to reconcile what has just transpired. I'm searching for mistakes, signs of problems...anything that would have been a signal to what was happening to you. I can't do that...neither can you. I never considered that you might feel guilty about the whole attack. Sure I wondered if anything could have been done differently. But all the correct procedures were being followed.. everything came out logically.

Ah....but you're Carter..you think differently. You act with your heart not with the facts. Now look at me..even Weaver knows this is different. No more cold exterior. When you were a surgical student after you became a doctor, I treated you just like any other student. I couldn't play favorites. I expected only the best from you and I got it. You still talked to the patients...wasted a lot of time when there were procedures to learn skills to harness. To be a surgeon you need instincts, ethics and objectability. I've lost that protective distance with you. Maybe I'll start taking more time with others. Try to be just a little more then a slice and dice surgeon. I thought getting all caught up in a patient's emotions was a weakness, a distraction during surgery. Maybe if I had a little more of a connection that I might...might be a better doctor. Have a better insight. Then I might notice subtle things and fix them.

Is it possible? Somehow I have learned something from you? You've..you've always made me proud of you, man. Maybe after you pull though this I'll tell you that I learned something from this tragedy.

I got to go, that's the phone.


Journals of John Truman Carter
May 22, 2000 Noon


"I am the voice inside your head
I am the lover in your bed
I am the sex that you provide
I am the hate you try to hide
I take you where you want to go
I give you all you need to know
I drag you down I use you up
Mr self destruct"


I was asked in for a one on one session. I was cleared headed; I knew why I was here now. I was all right with it. With a new sense of hope I could face my problems. I told Dr. Pierson that I had an…that I am…addicted to painkillers. I was nervous, squirmed a little in my chair, but I said it. That was the first step…right? Instead of seeing him nod with encouragement…he ..he just sat there. He told me he knew that, but he wanted to know how it began. I was silent, so was he.

We weren't going to discuss my..my problem? Wasn't he going to discuss some course of treatment? I fiddled with my hands and he simply sat back. I…I didn't want to talk about that night…haven't I gone over it in my head enough? Listened to my guilt…to my ..he interrupted my thoughts. He wanted to know what I was afraid of? What I was hiding from? "Nothing." I responded. He echoed my answer, had that face of displeasure. I got a bit uptight told him he knew I was injured and that this lead to my addiction, that I was in intense physical pain. Instead he wanted to play a stupid game. Some kind of word association. How's this supposed to help me? Knowing I had plenty of time and showing my irritation I went along. He said a word then I responded with the first thing that came to mind. He told me no matter what to keep answering all of his cues.

He went first then I followed.

Black……….White
Rain………...Cloud
Happy……….Sad
Hurt…………Fix
Fault………...Mine
Knife………..Pain
Lucy………..Dead
Guilt………..Yes
Paul………..Hate

No, I yelled. My heart was racing, I was sweating, my back was killing me. It wasn't Paul fault....it was my own. I was yelling, but not at him, but at me. I didn't diagnosis him right, that I was too pre-occupied with another patient, that I wasn't paying any attention to her. The doctor was talking to me, his voice was getting louder..trying to overtake mine. He kept asking me over and over again didn't I blame Paul, didn't I hate him? I kept repeating no! I don't hate Paul it wasn't his fault. Dr. Pierson was yelling, wasn't I mad? Wasn't I pissed? wasn't I upset? Didn't I have anger, vented up rage? Yes, I answered. Who, John? Who do you hate he asked. I screamed over him and spun around.

Yes, I screamed……I hate…...I hate ME!!

I bent over as the emotions consumed me, as the pain in my back enveloped me. Until I was heap in the floor, in...in agony. I didn't hear anything, except my own voice I hate myself…...I hate myself. I didn't hear the calls for a doctor, or how I ended up in here.


Journals of John Truman Carter
May 22 2000 9:00 p.m.


"I am the bullet in the gun
I am the truth from which you run
I am the silencing machine
I am the end of all your dreams
I take you where you want to go
I give you all you need to know
I drag you down I use you up
Mr self destruct"


I'm not sure what happened...I think I freaked out. I know that I haven't experienced that level of pain in some time. They have me hooked up to an IV. I don't think its necessary. All my vitals according to the machines are fine. Found this pad of paper and since there's nothing else to do. Well I'm pretty sure that I worked myself up and since I'm not allowed much medication, I over did it.

I let them play their little mind games with me and looked what happened!! I...I know I have a problem and I reached out...I agreed to all their diagnosis. About the PST about my addiction, but I never expected them....I never expected…any of this. I..I …. It …was some stupid word association...it doesn't mean anything. Of course I hate my actions….I blame myself. No one else does....but I do. I hate the fact that I couldn't handle it.I...couldn't handle the pain without turning to others. That's what I meant. God, this really hurts. Looks like I have to go, my wonderful doctor is here and he doesn't look happy.


Words by Trent Reznor


To be concluded...



Part 6
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