The Schopenhauer Cure(69)
After a few moments of silence, Stuart added, “That’s it.”
“That’s it?” asked Tony. “A well-soused, good-looking broad invites you into her hotel room, and you give her what she’s asking for? Man, no way I’d pass that up.”
“No, that’s not it!” said Stuart. “It is that I was a physician and someone sick, someone probably with incipient or full-blown alcoholic hallucinosis, crossed my path, and I end up screwing her. That’s a violation of the Hippocratic oath, a grievous offense, and I’ve never forgiven myself for it. I can’t let go of that evening—it’s seared into my mind.”
“You’re too hard on yourself, Stuart,” said Bonnie. “This woman’s lonely, in her cups, steps out in the hallway, sees an attractive younger man, and invites him into her bed. She got just what she wanted, maybe what she needed. Probably you did her a world of good. She probably considers that a lucky night.”
Others—Gill, Rebecca, Pam—were poised to speak, but Stuart preempted them: “I appreciate what you guys are saying—I can’t tell you how many times I’ve said similar things to myself—but I’m really, truly, not asking for reassurance. What I wanted to do is just tell you about it, take this sordid act out of so many years of darkness and into the light—that’s enough.”
Bonnie responded, “That’s good. It’s good you told us, Stuart, but this ties in with something we’ve talked about before: your reluctance to accept help from us. You’re terrific about giving help, not so good at letting us help you.”
“Maybe just doctor reflexes,” replied Stuart. “I had no med school courses on being a patient.”
“Don’t you ever get to go off duty?” asked Tony. “I think you were off duty that night in the Miami hotel. Midnight with a tipsy, horny broad—go for it, man, get laid, enjoy yourself.”
Stuart shook his head. “A while ago I listened to a tape of the Dalai Lama speaking to Buddhist teachers. One of them asked him about burnout and whether they shouldn’t have some regularly scheduled off-duty time. The Dalai Lama’s reply was priceless: Off duty? The Buddha says, ‘Sorry, I’m off duty!’ Jesus is approached by a sufferer and replies, ‘Sorry, I’m off duty today!’ The Dalai Lama giggles all the time, but he found this particular idea absolutely hilarious and couldn’t stop laughing.”
“I’m not buying it,” said Tony. “I think you’re using your M.D. to avoid life.”
“What I did in that hotel was wrong. No one will ever convince me otherwise.”
Julius said, “Fourteen years ago and you can’t let it go. What about the repercussions of this incident?”
“You mean besides self-excoriation and disgust?” said Stuart.
Julius nodded.
“I can tell you that I’ve been a damn good doctor, that I’ve never, not for an instant, ever again violated the ethics of my profession.”
“Stuart, I decree that you’ve paid your debt,” said Julius. “Case closed.”
“Amen,” echoed several others.
Stuart smiled and crossed himself. “This takes me back to Sunday Mass during my childhood. I feel like I’ve just come out of the confession booth absolved.”
“Let me tell you a story,” said Julius. “Years ago in Shanghai I visited a deserted cathedral. I’m an atheist, but I like visiting religious places—go figure. Well, I walked around and then sat down in the confession booth, on the priest’s side, and found myself envying the father confessor. What power he had! I tried to mouth the words, ‘You are forgiven, my son, my daughter.’ I imagined the supreme confidence he enjoyed because he believed himself a vessel carrying the cargo of forgiveness straight from the man upstairs. And how puny my own techniques seemed in comparison. But later, after leaving the church, I came out of it by reassuring myself that at least I was living according to principles of reason and not infantilizing my patients by representing mythology as reality.”
After a short silence, Pam said to Julius, “You know what, Julius? Something’s changed. You’re different from the way you were before I left. Telling stories about your life, stating opinions on religious belief, whereas you always avoided such things in the past. I gather it’s the effect of your illness, but, nonetheless, I like it. I really like your being more personal.”
Julius nodded. “Thanks. That silence gave me a sinking feeling that I had offended some religious sensibilities here.”
“Not mine, Julius, if you’re worried about me,” said Stuart. “Those polls that say that ninety percent of Americans believe in God leave me bewildered. I left the church in my teens, and if I hadn’t then, I would leave now after what’s come out about priests and pedophilia.”
“Nor mine,” said Philip. “You and Schopenhauer have something in common regarding religion. He believed the church leaders exploited man’s ineradicable need for the metaphysical and that they infantilized the public and dwelled themselves in a state of perpetual deception by refusing to confess they had deliberately cloaked their truths in allegory.”
Philip’s comment interested Julius, but, noticing that only a few minutes remained, he steered the group back to process. “A lot happened today. A lot of risks were taken. Feelings? Some of you have been very quiet—Pam? Philip?”