"No Cufflinks" or "A Coward Revealed"

A scene in the life of a tortured soul.

                  

He polished his glasses a third time and stared through the right lens inspecting it for non-existent blemishes, avoiding looking straight ahead at all cost. He hated this part of the job. He hated his ill fitting lab coat they insisted was hospital policy. He hated his sterile cramped office. He hated his shabby desk and he hated this shabby little institution. But there it was. It really came down to responsibility, didn’t it? And only “He” was responsible for where he was.

He glanced straight ahead for a fraction of a second. They were still there. He saw no way around it. It was time. He just had to spit it out. But not yet…..

    He started out a great doctor. Right after residency he was offered a dream job in a prestigious children's hospital back east. After ten years and two books he struck out on his own. The money rolled in. He had cars and women and expensive toys, a coke habit and a sense of helplessness. But all the toys, women and coke couldn’t distract the country’s best pediatric oncologist.

    The moms and dads, the grandparents and even siblings sometimes would sit and listen as he gave out death sentences like Blow-Pops from the Tiffany crystal bowl on his desk. This scene played out so many times before him. This was no tragic comedy. The players were different each time. The supporting role could range from six months to 17 years of age. The lead role was a straw-man in a sad Superman mask bought at the doctor's store along with his lines that were universal, “I sorry to have to tell you this, but I’m afraid little (....) is terminal. There’s nothing we can do.” camera One goes close-up on destroyed mother then pans out to a larger shot of trembling father holding his wife, camera Two gets profile of older sibling staring into the ether. Fade to black…….

He put his glasses back on over the mask he’s worn for so long he doesn’t even recognize his real face in the mirror anymore. He sits up straight and adjusts himself in his ill fitting jacket and looks his sad looking guests in the eye.

'No!” he thinks. 'No, I can’t do this one more time.' But out loud he whispered “No.”

The visitors look into his eyes and see what they need to see. They have their answer. There was nothing else left to do but….

 “Alright Doc. Have it your way.” one orderly said.

The other one called for the day nurse to bring the syringe and tranq him up good. The orderly remembered all too well what happened last time when they pulled the Doc’s straight jacket off to shower him. The orderly was thinking 'My jaw still hurts'.