Chapter Text
The day had finally arrived; a day that Perry had come to very much dread. Today, the brand new interns who were just as incompetent as they were clueless would file into the hospital and begin wreaking havoc. Havoc, as it turned out, was not on a list of Perry’s favorite things. In fact, that morning, he decided that havoc was on a list of his least favorite things, especially havoc caused by interns who had no business touching the critically ill patients he was trying so desperately to keep alive. He knew Sacred Heart was, first and foremost, a teaching hospital, but until the interns really came into their own – and there would be some of that them that never would – it was a constant cycle of checking and rechecking their orders, making sure they ran the right tests, and inevitably shouldering the consequences when they lost a patient. It was not a time of year that Perry looked forward to in the least. He knew the time would come when he would be able to tell which of them had potential to be good doctors – or even passable ones – and when the ones who would truly shine began to pull away from the rest of the pack, leaving the weaker, far less competent interns just trying to stay afloat. That time, however, could not come soon enough.
Perry was noticeably in a more foul mood than usual that morning when he walked up to the nurses’ station, a chart in hand. He was grumbling to himself and scribbling notes on it when Carla walked up to him from behind the counter.
“What’s got your panties in a bunch?” she asked, arching a single eyebrow at him.
Perry disliked the expression on her face; Carla often made him feel like she knew more about him than she let on and as a fairly private person, this made him uncomfortable. “You know damn well what,” he muttered, barely pausing to look up at her.
Perry could practically hear Carla roll her eyes in response. “I don’t know why you make such a big deal out of the interns every year,” she said, shrugging. “They have to learn somehow and since you think you’re the greatest doctor who ever lived, why shouldn’t they learn from you?”
“Because,” Perry replied, his tone scathing, “interns want me to hold their hands and pat them on the back when they do something that anyone off the street could do. Hell, the heroin addict down the hall is probably better at finding a vein than you are.”
“Hey,” Carla chided, raising a finger at Perry. “I am good at my job. But, back to the point, maybe this year you should do things differently and take a special interest in a few of the interns. It’d probably get Kelso off your back and you could craft your own personal doctors.” For effect, she wiggled her fingers dramatically.
Perry snorted and put his chart back. “Save your breath, Carla,” he told her, dismissing her efforts. “You and I both know that this intern class won’t be any different than the ones before it. They’ll all be incompetent and terrified and yet somehow have an unbridled sense of optimism that has no place in a hospital. They always waltz in here thinking they can save everyone and when they finally realize that’s not the way things work, they’re crushed and I’m the one who has to pick up the pieces.”
“I’m glad to see the new shrink is helping,” Carla said, shaking her head as she turned back to her work.
Perry stormed off toward his next patient’s room, having had more than enough of Carla’s lecturing. How could anyone blame him for hating the interns? Behind it all was his determination that his patients got the best care possible and therefore the best chance at fighting whatever had landed them in the hospital in the first place. Interns were a recipe for disaster; it didn’t matter if they froze up when a patient coded or if they wrote a prescription for the wrong dosage or even if they got too attached to a patient. It always ended the same way, with the responsibility of their mistakes and their poor decisions resting on Perry’s shoulders.
He almost envied the interns for that. They didn’t actually have to deal with the consequences when something went wrong. If they made it to their first year of residency, things would gradually start to change, but Perry had been on his own as a doctor for a long time. It had been a simpler time when he hadn’t been forced to make life-or-death decisions at the drop of a hat or explain to a family why a treatment method hadn’t worked.
“Mr. Boyce, how are we today?” Perry asked in a gruff voice as he strode into the room, breaking out of his thoughts. He picked up the chart from the end of the bed and looked over all the information.
“I’ve been better,” Mr. Boyce sighed. “Being in a hospital and all.”
“Right,” Perry said absently, still perusing the chart. “Well, it looks like your condition is improving so I’ll do my best to get you out of here just as soon as I can.”
“Thank you, Dr. Cox,” he said gratefully.
Perry nodded and placed the chart back at the end of the bed, pleased with what he’d seen. “I’ll check in on you later and we’ll reevaluate,” he told Mr. Boyce before walking briskly out of the room.
As he walked down the hall, Perry considered Carla’s words on the subject of interns. Was he wrong to dismiss them all from the start? Having been a doctor for as long as he had, he easily decided that no, he was not wrong. In his past experience, in which he put a lot of stock, there had been precious few interns who had turned out not to be completely terrible at their jobs. They were all murderers, of course, and had gotten some good, clean kills before they really fell into step at the hospital. But it was inevitable – the good ones always ended up leaving the hospital for a better job or for a cushy private practice gig. One way or another, they always disappointed Perry.
The next room Perry walked into was that of a regular patient of his, who had a specialty for choosing very inconvenient times for his condition to worsen. He was unfazed when he saw an intern in the room with Carla, looking wide-eyed and very unsure of himself. At least he wasn’t crying. Yet.
The moment the nameless intern saw Perry, he opened his mouth. “Hi, Doctor, I’m –”
“Place an I.V. for me,” Perry interrupted. He couldn’t have cared less what the intern’s name was. All he wanted him to do was his job; he had no interest in idle chit-chat. His eyes lingered on the kid long enough to take in his appearance: crisp, brand new blue scrubs (he’d no doubt laid them out the night and taken extra care not to wrinkle them), styled brown hair that was quite frankly obnoxious, and big, blue eyes that held a certain optimistic innocence. Just the sight of him irritated Perry.
“We’ll talk later,” the intern mumbled as he bent over the patient’s arm, needle in hand.
Perry went about checking the patient’s chart, which indicated there had been no change in his condition. He’d figured as much. “Carla, can I ask you a personal question?” he asked casually, glancing up at her. “Do you spray the perfume on or just fill up your bathtub and splash around in it?”
Carla, of course, looked unaffected, but Perry didn’t miss the look of shock on the intern’s face. “I smell nice,” Carla retorted.
Perry waited a few more moments before whistling loudly, causing the intern to jump. He had no time to stand around and wait for the kid to muster up the courage to touch another human being. “Time’s up. Carla, would you do it for him, please? I also need an A.B.G.”
“Why are you telling her?” the intern questioned, looking taken aback at the speed with which everything had just happened. Perry shuddered to think what he’d be like during a code.
“Shut up and watch,” Perry spat, wondering if he was doomed to have an intern with the least amount of potential out of all of them. It would figure.
“Be nice to Bambi,” Carla scolded as she effortlessly placed an I.V. in the patient’s arm.
“Why does this gomer got to try and die every day during my lunch?” Perry lamented aloud, ignoring Carla’s pet name for the kid. No need for her to go getting attached if he was going to get flung out of here faster than Carla could find a vein.
“That’s a little insensitive,” the intern mumbled.
Perry lifted his head and glared at him. He was pleased to find the look had the desired effect with the way the intern cowered and shrank back. “Man’s ninety-two years old, he has full dementia, he doesn’t even know we’re here, he’s inches from Carla’s rack and hasn’t even flinched.”
“Aww, that is so sweet,” Carla said sarcastically.
Perry nodded. “Yeah, it is.”
“What about his subconscious?” the intern continued. Perry could hardly believe he hadn’t gotten the picture yet.
To further prove his point, Perry leaned over the patient. “Eisenhower was a sissy,” he whispered into the man’s ear. Despite his words eliciting no reaction whatsoever, he straightened and put his fists up, as if ready for a fight. “I think by the grace of god we’re gonna be okay. Oh, and from now on, whenever I’m in the room, you’re definitely not allowed to talk.” With that, he stormed out of the room.
He was already certain he knew what kind of doctor this kid would be. He would be the sensitive type, the kind that got too close with his patients and would cry when they kicked the bucket. He’d learn the hard way that doctors can’t be friends with their patients. That frustrated Perry more than anything. He could handle clueless interns and interns who were terrified to even speak around him. He could handle them because he knew they would either get a grip or they wouldn’t make it. It was as simple as that.
But this intern… Perry couldn’t put his finger on it just yet, but something about him frustrated Perry more than usual. Maybe it was because he’d questioned Perry’s tactics or seemed so chipper and ready to learn, but it wasn’t like interns hadn’t had those attributes before. He felt certain he would figure it out before the day was through.
Several hours and three more frustratingly obnoxious encounters with the intern later, who Perry had learned was named JD – what that stood for, he had no idea, nor did he care – saw Perry leaning against the nurses’ station, dreading the rest of his shift. He turned his head and saw Kelso making a beeline for him.
“Bob,” Perry said in a sarcastically jovial greeting. “Looking as cantankerous as always.”
“Shut up, Perry,” Kelso muttered. “They’re bringing up a patient for you.”
“Tell me, Bob,” he said, dismissing what Kelso had just told him, “what are the criteria for choosing interns nowadays? Because it seems to me that you’re just tossing names in a hat and picking a dozen or so.”
“Ha, ha,” Kelso replied, his tone just as sarcastic as Perry’s. “Figure out how to deal with them – they’re your problem now.” He walked away, humming serenely to himself.
Perry growled and turned to Carla. “Page Newbie and follow me.”
The two of them hurried over to an empty bed where paramedics were wheeling in a man on a gurney. He was covered in blood and there were multiple cuts and scratches on his face. On the count of three, Perry, Carla, and the paramedics transferred him onto the bed and Perry began surveying the man’s injuries. Moments later, JD came rushing up to the bed, breathless.
“Car accident,” Carla said, relaying the information from the paramedics. “Crashed in the elevator on the way up.” She pulled an oxygen mask over the man’s face as JD had the good sense to open the man’s shirt, leaving his chest bare.
Perry made the to leave the situation up to JD. This would be the intern’s first real test, though Perry would never for a second let the patient die if JD truly couldn’t step up to the plate. “We need to relieve the pressure in his chest. JD, do it.” He expected the expression of fear that swept over JD’s face, but he also seemed pleased, flattered even, that Perry had learned his name. “Look at me. You can do this.”
Something about the change in his expression told Perry that JD believed him. He took that as a good sign and watched him closely.
“Chest tube tray,” JD squeaked, his voice cracking.
Perry could understand JD’s nerves, but it was the ability to work through them that he was looking for. That’s what being a doctor was all about, being able to work and even thrive under pressure, to make split-second decisions that would mean the difference between life and death. He watched JD as another nurse brought him a tray of sterilized tools, noting that he seemed to be doubting himself once again.
“Come on, baby, let’s go. Chop-chop,” Perry urged. They didn’t have time to waste with this one and the sooner Perry could get JD to really get in there the better.
JD reached for a scalpel and turned back to the patient, who was struggling to hang on. He hesitated, and Perry knew that if JD didn’t do something soon, he’d be forced to step in.
“JD,” he said firmly, garnering the young intern’s attention. “Cut him or lose him.” He put things in simple terms of life and death, hoping that would stir emotion in JD, play to the sensitive side that Perry could already see he had.
JD made the incision without any more hesitation and Perry couldn’t help the rush of pride he felt. They weren’t out of the woods yet, though; hell, the kid had a long way to go before he could even call himself a proper doctor, but a chest tube insertion was a good place to start.
“Okay, give me the tube,” JD said in a shaky voice, though Perry was pleased to see that he was holding his own for the moment. He struggled to get the tube inserted. “I can’t get it through the pleura,” he told Perry, his voice shaking from effort and nerves.
“Well, don’t be gentle,” Perry said, leaving no room for arguing. “Get it in there.”
Moments later, JD successfully inserted the chest tube and Perry felt a flood of relief. “Okay, connect it, please, Carla,” JD said in a rush and they all watched as blood began to flow through the tube.
“Normal rhythm,” Carla reported, looking at the patient’s heart monitor.
JD laughed, a mixture of relief and surprise. “No way!”
Perry began taking off his gloves. “See? It’s a piece of cake,” he replied, his tone betraying none of the pride he felt in JD. “That’s your patient.”
“You’re leaving?” JD asked incredulously.
Perry wondered if it was because JD wasn’t sure he could handle taking care of the patient himself or because he liked having Perry around just in case, as a safety net, but he started walking toward JD nonetheless. Besides, he trusted Carla to page him in case something went wrong and JD couldn’t handle it. “That’s your patient, doctor,” he said in a quieter voice.
JD smiled and turned away from Perry, who hesitated for several moments before patting JD’s shoulder, a gesture that was quite uncommon for him. For some reason he couldn’t explain, Perry was far more pleased than he expected to be that JD had pulled through. He never expected much from interns, but it was clear that JD had the drive to succeed and excel as a doctor. Whether or not he would was another story, but Perry suddenly felt certain that he would do what he could to help JD along, even if his methods were unconventional.
Perry left his hand on JD’s shoulder for a few moments too long, but he quickly pulled away, letting his arm fall to his side, when JD glanced back at him. Their eyes had met and Perry suddenly felt ashamed, like he should have known better. He had a strange feeling he would come to regret the action.