Chapter Fifteen

The sleepless nights were usually few and far between but when they occurred, the effects were almost crippling.

Morgan barely obtained three hours of sleep when he suddenly woke up in a cold sweat. He sat in his bed for the next six and a half minutes trying to process his thoughts while allowing dark adaptation to take place. There was something soothing about the darkness. Perhaps it was the adequate reflection of the current state of his life that it provided or the cover from the gaze of a god he had been struggling to believe in.

There’s only one thing to do at times like this.

He got out of bed and, with the lights still off, made his way to the kitchen. After grabbing a glass and a bottle of whiskey, he sat down in the living room. Staring at the glass in hand with the aid of the moonlight filtering through the curtains, his mind went into overdrive once more.

Is this what my life is meant to be like from now on? Will I ever be able to drown out this noise? Maybe it’s the curse of a genius?

He broke into a snicker before he downed his drink. Morgan preferred to not do any drinking during the weekdays but desperate times called for desperate measures. Soon, one glass became two and two became three. Slowly, his mind began to calm down and he finally began to drift into a light slumber on the couch.

Three hours later, the faint beeps of the alarm pierced the silence and Morgan arose from his slumber with a mild headache. After a cold shower and a light breakfast, he was out of the door and headed to the hospital. Twenty minutes later, he was in the hospital parking lot where he popped a couple of Advil tablets to ease the pain.

He began his round in the female ward on the first floor at nine in the morning. With a nurse in tow he went from one bed to the next of the patients of his unit. As was his custom, he began with asking the patients if they had any complaints then proceeded to examine them and finally reviewed their charts. Based on their vitals and any concerns from both the patient and the nurse, he would adjust or sometimes add to the medication each one was receiving.

Fourth-two minutes later he was done and heading to the male ward on the same floor when he bumped into Zahra Aziz, who was coincidentally heading in the same direction. She quickly noted his somewhat haggard facial expression.

“Did you get enough sleep last night?” Zahra queried.

“Well no but it’s nothing to worry about,” Morgan smiled weakly.

Zahra had noticed that something had been eating away at Morgan over the past few months. Initially, she thought it was the workload but it was no different from that of the other residents and they seemed fine. Every time she probed him for answers, he either deflected or played the incidents down. Her first instinct was to just observe and hope he would figure things out. However, the situation had not changed and out of concern she felt the need to intervene.

“Morgan, would you come with me for a moment?”

“Uh... Could it wait? I would like to finish my rounds first.”

“There is a more pressing matter to take care of. So, please come with me,” Zahra replied in an authoritative tone.

Morgan gave in and sheepishly followed the young attending doctor. It took less than a minute for him to realize exactly where they were headed and he felt another headache coming on.

“I don’t think I’ve done anything to warrant this kind of response,” Morgan pleaded.

Zahra did not respond and continued to walk at a steady pace. Two minutes later they were outside the office of Doctor Steven Shay, head of the unit. After a knock and an affirmative response, Morgan was ushered in and Zahra closed the door behind them.

“Good morning. I do sincerely hope everything is alright?” Dr Shay remarked without taking his eyes off the paper he had been reading.

“Not entirely sir and that’s what we’d like to discuss. I have brought up the issue before and I believe it needs to be addressed now,” Zahra replied.

Dr Shay placed the paper on his desk, finally focused on the two doctors seated in front of him. A quick glance at Morgan was all he needed to remember the issue.

“Morgan, how are you doing today?” His gaze fixed squarely on the young man who, in his opinion, looked more exhausted than he ought to be.

“I don’t mean to be disrespectful but what the hell is going on? I came in to work as I usually do and I got pulled out of my round. Now everyone keeps asking me if I am okay. Is there something I’m missing?” Morgan replied angrily.

“Let’s cut to the chase then. It has been noticed by some, particularly Dr Aziz, that you haven’t been yourself lately. Although your work ethic has of course been exceptional, we are still very concerned. Do you remember the definition of health by the Global Health Organization?” The old man leaned back in his chair, hoping that the young resident finally understood while Zahra sat quietly.

Morgan’s features softened. “Yes I do. Health is a state of complete physical, mental and social wellbeing. Not merely the absence of disease.”

“With that said, we both feel strongly that your mental state is suffering. With all the rumours of your drinking and gambling coupled to the fact that you look exhausted almost every other day, we’ve decided to give you two weeks off to try and get your mind straight.”

Morgan was about to speak but Zahra cut him off.

“This is not up for debate,” She said, reaching into her pocket to pull out a card which she handed over to Morgan. “This is a card for Doctor Seymour Moriarty, a psychiatrist and an old friend of Doctor Shay. I’m sure you know of his clinic in the hospital but he also runs a private one on the other side of town if you’re not too comfortable seeing him here. I’ve spoken to him about you and he is waiting for your call. You’re required to see him three times a week for two weeks. His evaluation will determine whether you’re fit to return to work or not.”

Morgan sat in a stunned silence, trying to make some sense of the bomb that they had just dropped on him.