Part Three

 

By October, Harmony had met the infamous Doctor Carter. He had returned to Chicago after spending three months at a drug rehab in Atlanta, Georgia. Harmony didn’t know of all the logistics, but she did know that he was heartbroken about something. She decided when she got the chance she would try to pry it out of someone.

 

“What do you think of John?” Deb asked one day.

 

“Doctor Carter? I think he is severely depressed and needs to see someone about it,” Harmony said

 

“That’s the reason he went to Atlanta though.”

 

“No, from what I’ve heard he went to Atlanta for drug rehab. Not to overcome depression. If they wanted him to overcome depression, they should have sent him to McLean Hospital in Massachusetts.”

 

“What type of hospital is that?” Deb asked.

 

“A mental hospital.”

 

Harmony had gotten her point across. Unfortunately, it was the belief of the E.R. that she didn’t like Carter. That was not true. She had had her fair share of mental patients in her career, as there was often a shortage of doctors in Kenya. She had more than once served as a psychiatrist and knew the ropes when mental illness was involved. Unsure of the new attending’s feelings, Carter approached her one day.

 

“So, you think I’m mentally ill?” he asked Harmony one day.

 

“Where on earth did you come up with that?” was the reply.

 

“You told Deb you thought I was crazy.”

 

“Hey, if you’re going to confront me, get the facts straight please. I simply said they should have sent you to McLean Hospital.”

 

“A mental hospital.”

 

“That is what the establishment is considered, yes,” Harmony said coolly. 

 

“I don’t belong in a mental hospital, people like Paul Sobriki belong in mental hospitals.”

 

“If I knew who you were talking about, perhaps I could agree with you.”

 

“Paul Sobriki was the guy who attacked a med student and myself last winter. The med student was killed. He was schizophrenic,” Carter explained icily.

 

“So your point is, what?”  

 

“He’s crazy, I’m not.”

 

“Doctor Carter, did you have any emotional attachment to this med student?”

 

“More or less.”

 

“So, I’m led to believe that this attack had an emotional impact on you, correct?” Harmony asked slowly.

 

“Yes.”

 

“And this drove you to become addicted to your pain killers?”

 

Carter remained silent.

 

“It’s better if you admit it, Doctor Carter. It will help you come to terms with yourself.”

 

“Fine, yes.”

 

“And you blame yourself for the whole…affair, if you will.

 

“Yes. I still don’t see what you’re getting at.”

 

“And you’re suicidal?”

 

“No.”

 

“Come now, I’m sure you have at least considered the option of suicide,” Harmony said in a beguiling manner.

 

“What does this have to do with anything?”

 

“Everything.”

 

“No.”

 

“Wouldn’t it have been easier to kill yourself than to have to deal with the pain and guilt?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“So you did consider suicide?”

 

“Yes, on a number of occasions,” Carter said.

 

Harmony frowned. “Now, we have a paradox. Did you actually consider suicide, or are you saying this to please me?”

 

“I did.”

 

“Okay, now do you want my diagnosis?”

 

“After going through that, you damn better give it to me,” Carter snapped.

 

Harmony sighed. “You might want to sit down for this one. Did you ever study the forms of mental illnesses in medical school?”

 

Carter nodded. “Yes.”

 

“Then you would agree with me that depression is a type of personality disorder?”

 

Again the answer was affirmative.

 

“Symptoms of such a personality disorder include insomnia…dependency…uh, suicidal behavior or thoughts, guilt…uh, a questioning of the patient’s moral character might occur. Can you relate to any of these symptoms, Doctor Carter?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Now, the behavior may induce self destructive reactions. Therefore it is advised to place the patient under secure observation, i.e. a mental institution. Now, in your case, you needed – and may still need – to discuss your feelings and be counseled in relation. That therefore explains my comment about mental hospitals. I do not believe you are mentally ill, or crazy or anything like that. I simple believe you are in a depressed situation in which you need to seek mental therapy.”

 

Carter stared at Harmony in awe. “How did you know that?”

 

Harmony shrugged. “We often had a shortage of doctors in Kenya. So, I sometimes worked in the psychiatric ward. I know a bit about mental illnesses,” she explained.

 

“I’m sorry I got angry at you.”

 

“Hell, I would have been even more upset if I had been in your position. I’m just glad we go it cleared up. I hope I’ve helped you.”

 

Carter nodded. “Thanks.”

 

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“I heard what you said to Carter,” Luka said, finding Harmony with the paper the next day.

 

“Well, sooner or later he would have to know the truth. It was better being heard form some chick her hardly knows than someone like, oh say, Deb Chen.

 

“She prefers Jien-Mei,” Luka commented.

 

“I know, I just can’t pronounce it.”

 

“And you can pronounce all those crazy medical terms!”

 

“’Crazy’ is not a term to be taken lightly.”

 

“What?”

 

“Forget it, Doctor Kovac. It’s just another one of my crazy quirks.”

 

“Call me Luka.”

 

“Okay…Luka. Croatian form of Luke, right?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Harmony smiled. “Luka is much nicer, I think. You can call me Harmony. None of that ‘Doctor Morris’ stuff anymore.” 

 

“Harmony. Very pretty.”

 

“Thanks.” She nonchalantly glanced at her watch. “Oh god! I’m late for a meeting. Gotta go.”

 

Luka nodded and watched her go, a smile playing on his face.  

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“Yo girl, wake up!” Selena yelled, waving her hand in front of Harmony’s face. “Those fish can’t be that enrapturing.”

 

Harmony shook her head. “Sorry.” The two friends were at a Chinese restaurant that had a fish tank. “Do you think they actually use those fish?” she asked.

 

“Since when are you such a champion of fishes’ rights?”

 

“I was just wondering.”

 

“You have something else on your mind don’t you? What happened at the hospital today?”

 

“It’s not today, so much. We have this one resident – John Carter – who I’m worried about,” Harmony explained.

 

 “John Carter! Of the Chicago Carters!” Selena exclaimed. 

 

“I guess. How many Carters are there in Chicago?”

 

“You mean you’ve never heard of the Chicago Carters!”

 

“No.”

 

“God, that family is worth about 180 million!”

 

“180 million! Selena, you’re joking!”

 

Selena shook her head. “No.”

 

“Wow.”

 

“So why are you worried about him?”

 

“I’m pretty sure he had either a personality disorder or a depression disorder. I got him to admit most of his problems and gave him my dx, but I really think he’s in deep,” Harmony said solemnly.

 

“What do you mean ‘deep’?”

 

“They sent him to Atlanta. I would send him to McLean.”

 

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Luka sat in his hotel room, flipping through channels. He had never understood the reason for all those channels, but as long as they were there, he would use them. His mind kept wandering back to Harmony. Harmony on the train, Harmony during traumas, Harmony in the scrub room… He had never felt this way before, not even with his own wife. He decided tomorrow he would ask Harmony to dinner.

 

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Harmony sat at her desk, thinking of what to write to her friends in Kenya. She could tell them about Chicago, or about County, or…or about Luka. There was something about Luka Kovac that was…for lack of a better word, special. Someone like Luka only came once in a lifetime, if you were lucky.

 

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“Harmony?”

 

Harmony looked up to see Luka. She was in an exam room, cleaning up after her last patient. “Yes?”

 

“I was wondering…”

 

“What?”

 

“If you’d like to go to dinner tonight.”

 

Harmony smiled. “I would love too.”