By M Muzamil Shami - April 12, 2025
"Your condition is stable, oh thank you, Doctor," the patient murmured, eyes fluttering open.
"We need to monitor you closely," Molly replied gently, adjusting the blanket. He seems so frail today.
Later, Molly went to the staff lounge to remind Dr. Five about an upcoming complex surgery. The scene that greeted her made her stop dead in her tracks. Dr. Five was slumped on the sofa, his speech slurred, the unmistakable scent of alcohol heavy in the air.
"Dr. Five?" Molly asked hesitantly. "Are you alright?"
He blinked slowly. "Yes, yes... just didn't get enough sleep, that's all."
Molly frowned, her concern growing. "You smell like alcohol."
"No!" he protested, his voice rising defensively. "No, I am perfectly sober." He swayed slightly as he stood. "Hey! Esh... don't touch me! I don't... I don't need your touch! I want help!" He stumbled towards the door. "Help... uh..."
Just then, Dr. Gibson strode into the lounge, his face a mask of authority. "Hey! What's going on here?"
Molly explained quickly, her voice tight with worry. "You tell me what's going on here! You have a drunken doctor at work!"
Gibson's gaze hardened as he turned to Dr. Five. "I'm Dr. David Gibson. I'm the head of internal medicine. Your treatment will now be under my direct supervision, Dr. Five. Can I have a word with you, please?"
He steered a resisting Dr. Five towards his office. "What are you doing, man? You're at work!"
"I have no idea what she's talking about," Dr. Five mumbled, his words thick.
"Yeah, you can fool her, but not me, man. You stink! You smell like a distillery! I haven't had a drop, I swear!" Dr. Five insisted, his voice laced with a desperate plea.
"Look, shhh! I keep my promises, yeah?" Gibson said, his voice softening slightly. "Alright, we have friends... shut up, shut up, shut up. Okay, it's okay, it's okay. But I'm pushing the surgery till tomorrow. I want you to go home. Go home. Home."
"Okay, come on now, fall out already." Gibson guided him out of the lounge.
Later, in the chaotic resident's room, Dr. Five was muttering to himself. "Stupid thing... did you just take my money and that's it? Where's my coffee? Come on... uh, Dr. Five, you... you didn't push the button." He seemed disoriented. "Who is there? What did you say? Hurry up! You told me to hurry up! And what if you were on the surgery table and I was stitching you up? Would you tell me to hurry up too? Then come on, why don't you say something, anyone?"
Molly found him pacing erratically. "Dr. Five, there you are! Everyone is looking for you in the residence room. Let me help you."
"Expecting me? There's no one expecting me. Who's expecting me? I'm not expecting anyone." He seemed lost and confused.
"Well, there's no need to go anywhere," Molly said gently. "Yeah, I'll explain everything on the way."
"I said there's no need to go anywhere!" he repeated, his voice agitated.
Gibson appeared, his expression grim. "Alright, I got rounds, you know? Patients, things to do, places to be, you know? My office, now. My coffee! I... my coffee!"
"Hey! Ro, come on, Ro, get over there!" Gibson called to a nurse.
"Ro, the hell was that all about, man?" Gibson asked, turning back to Dr. Five. "I was just standing in the line, okay? Until that snotty little Brad started, 'Oh, hurry up, blah blah blah!' I told you to go home, and what do you do? You step on the gas! What's going on?"
Gibson held up a blood test result. "Yeah, you see this? It says here I have been sober for 3 years! 3 years! I hadn't had a drop!" He pointed to the result. "Put that candy away. Blow this. Put the candy away! Alright, blow it! I blow!"
The machine whirred, and the result flashed: ".21."
"[Music] Rob... I thought you'd never lie to me again," Gibson said, his voice thick with betrayal.
"B... I don't understand what this is about. You... [Music] know I didn't drink! I didn't!" Dr. Five pleaded.
"Enough! Enough! I believed you! I believed you when you said you quit, and I believed you this morning when... when you said you weren't drinking on the job! But I'm not going to believe you anymore! That's it! Go home! You're suspended! Go! What? Go home! You're suspended! What? And stay off the hospital grounds until further notice! You can't do this to me! Look, you can't do this here, man!" Gibson's anger was palpable. "And take a cab. Go! Go! Home."
Molly watched Dr. Five leave, a knot of unease tightening in her stomach. "Thanks for trying to help," she murmured to Gibson.
"You said it happened again?" Molly asked Gibson later, her voice laced with concern.
"Yeah... yeah, unfortunately. 3 years ago, 3 years ago, he started drinking heavily. Really heavily. And me... everything... everything fell apart. Everything. He crashed. He crashed his friends, they all turned their backs on him. His wife left him. And... and he almost lost his job. I tried. I mean, I tried to get him out of that hole. I tried to pull him out. But you... you can't help a guy who doesn't want to help himself. It's... it's impossible." Gibson's voice was heavy with resignation.
"I think he was sincere," Molly countered, her intuition nagging at her. "You've got to stop looking for the worst in everybody. Look, he's got more than one per meal in his blood, but Dr. Five was always in his fit... was his patient... and with numbers like that, he couldn't work at all. Like even half a day."
"I'm going to have to explain it to you a different way. Come on, let's go. Let's go. Let's get out of here. Come on in, let me show you something." Gibson led her away.
"What? Of course... apple juice?" Molly looked at the carton in confusion. "This is strange. Really strange."
"Yeah... yeah, it's really weird to break into someone else's office," Gibson muttered, rummaging through Dr. Five's belongings. "Stop talking and look for any bottles with any kind of alcohol in it."
"[Music] Alright, maybe he wasn't drinking it at all," Molly suggested, a flicker of hope igniting within her.
"Quit making things harder than they are, okay? We've got the criminal. All we need is the weapons."
"Yeah, but in our case, the criminal and the victim are the same person, so you can't ignore it. Residence room, let's go."
"Okay... oh, Mr. Gibson! Dr. Wright! I... in the residence room, I've been looking for you forever! Where's Dr. Five?" a flustered nurse asked.
"I sent him home for health reasons," Gibson stated firmly.
"I heard about his condition. Actually, the whole Hospital saw the ugly state he was in. If it wasn't for me, the whole town would know about this, Dr. Wright. I promise you, this will never happen again."
"Of course, it's not going to happen again, because you're going to sit down and do the paperwork for his dismissal."
"You can't go by what people are saying! Dr. Five... he's top-notch! He's our best specialist! This is a misunderstanding, or a miscommunication, that's... that..." Molly interjected, her voice pleading.
"That miscommunication almost ruined the reputation of the hospital! What would you choose? A doctor who makes mistakes, or a patient who pays for the treatment? I'm going to select the answer to that. You understand?" Gibson's tone left no room for argument.
"Yeah... good. Good way. I haven't seen any sign of Dr. Five. I don't think we'll find anything about him."
"Well, we got to go see him! Oh, we got to get to the bottom of the situation. Come on, let's go." Molly was determined.
They found Dr. Five looking pale and unwell. "Are you okay?" Molly asked, her concern evident.
"It's fine. Just a regular cough."
"Doesn't sound like a regular cough."
"That's nothing. See? It's just nothing. Come on, let's go see him. Come on, Dr. Gibs..."
"Wish... should I... I'm not sure we can do it. We shouldn't... we shouldn't... we shouldn't..." Gibson hesitated.
"No, M., I got to get to the bottom of this. If he's up to his old tricks again, then... he's sick. He needs my help." Molly's voice was firm.
They approached Dr. Five's apartment door, and Molly saw Gibson trying to hide a bag behind his back. "What's going on here? Get out of here! What's in the bag, man? That's none of your business! Get out of here!"
"It is my business, because I'm the guy who's got to clean up your mess again, as always! What's in the bag? Let me see!" Molly tried to grab it. "On the bag is M... stop! Stop it! Show me what's in the damn bag! Stop it! Stop it! This is my bag!"
"Soda pop?" Molly looked at the cans in disbelief. "Yes, soda pop! What do you think it was? Get out of here, both of you! I told you, get out! Yes, a... get out! Get out! Please, get out."
Back at the hospital, Gibson was visibly shaken. "I'm so sorry about what just happened, Molly. You're a nice girl and all, but I'd like you to leave too."
"Talk to me, okay? Just one answer for me. Just one, please." Molly's eyes pleaded for understanding.
"Go ahead, M."
"How long have you been eating so many sweets?"
"What is that a crime now? It's a bad habit, okay? No argument, but it's my only bad habit. You can't hold this against me, can you? Can you hold it against me?"
"No, but has it affected your health in some way, M.?"
"I appreciate this, I really do, but I'm not a bad doctor. [Music] Myself... yes, I've been having some bowel problems... and headaches. Sometimes I have headaches, but I know it's due to my diet, you know? And I intend to start a new one. Starting... of course, of course. I got it. I got it. Get your things together. Off we're going to the hospital. We're going to the hospital! Come on, come on!"
"Hospital? I'm not going to the hospital! First, you kick me out of there, now you want to drag me back in? I'm not going to the hospital! I don't want to go to the hospital!" Dr. Five protested weakly.
"Trust me, man. I'm your friend, and I know what's happening here. Come on, let's go, buddy. Come on."
Later, in a quiet examination room, Molly explained her suspicions to a skeptical Gibson. "I gave him a stive and started cleansing IE, as you said."
"Great! He's got gut fermentation syndrome! You know, others call it, uh, Auto Brewery syndrome. It's a really rare condition with the digestive system. It ferments ethanol, causing intoxication. So, the increase in carbs accelerates the fermentation, turning it into ethanol in huge quantities."
"Exactly! So that's why he's always... he's always irritable, why he... he smells, why he can't remember anything. It's chronic, yeah?" Molly confirmed, relief washing over her.
"Yeah. Right. Yeah. Thank you. Thanks a lot. Thank you. It's a pleasure for me to learn from you."
Gibson looked at Dr. Five's lab results, his face etched with a mixture of shock and guilt. "What's this? Dr. Five's labs... results? He wasn't drinking?"
"It's not what it seems!" Molly exclaimed.
"I don't care! He embarrassed my Hospital! People don't come... come here because the reputation of the clinic, Dr. Wright. They come here because the reputation of the doctors! You more than anyone else should know that!"
"It doesn't change anything! I'm still going to fire him!" Gibson's voice was cold.
"Alright! Alright, listen! I didn't want to do this, but if you even think about firing Dr. Five, I'll make sure there's an article in every single news website! How do you think our people are going to feel when they find out you fired him for drinking on the job when he actually has a rare undiagnosed illness? And I'll tell the press all your dirty little secrets! [Music] If I dig deep enough, I'm sure I'll find many more little secrets of yours." Molly's voice was laced with righteous anger. "You're going to regret this, Gibson."
"Yeah? I'd be glad to."
Later, Gibson approached Dr. Five, a sheepish expression on his face. "Here Comes Dr. Gibson. Hey... hey, my friend. How you doing? How you feeling?"
"Uh, I'm much better now, Dave. Thanks." Dr. Five smiled weakly.
"Awesome. Well, I can't believe you've been living with this for so long. It's all thanks to you, David."
"No, actually, it's not. It's all Molly. She's the only one that believed you."
"Seriously? I guess I'm not... uh... I'm not too... too good of a friend, huh?"
"Pretty lousy," Dr. Five chuckled softly. "You're a good Doctor, David. That's why I'm more grateful to you now. But yes, you're not much of a friend."
"Uh, well, I have something important to say to you, uh..." Gibson began hesitantly.
"Okay?"
"I learned a lot, you know? Thanks to you, thanks to the disease. I learned that... that life is short and should be treasured. Oh my God, it sounds vulgar and trite, I know."
"Yeah, you're right, actually, it does." Dr. Five nodded. "I'm going to Africa."
"What? Africa?"
"People need help there more than they do here. And you know, I'm just a man, but I want to be useful to this world. You know? And Robert Mason Five will do more there than Robert Mason Five will do here."
"There he goes, talking about himself in the third person again," Gibson said, a hint of his old gruffness returning, but with affection. "Seriously, you're... uh... you're an awesome doctor, one of the best I've ever worked with. But you're an even better friend, dude. I got to admit, I'm going to miss you. But I'm really happy, really happy that you've made this decision for yourself. But if you ever... ever fall off the radar, I'm telling you, I'm going to track you down. I'm going to find you, bro. Man, I'm going to find you. Okay? Okay."
Suddenly, Gibson swayed and collapsed. "D... right? David! Dr. Gibson! Are you okay? Dr. Gibson! Can you hear me? Can you hear me?" Molly rushed to his side, concern etched on her face.
"I'm... Mar... just... it's just the nerves. It's just... okay. I just... I just need to r... I just need to... yeah... stay down, stay down. Don't move. You just... just lost consciousness." Dr. Five's voice was surprisingly steady. "Um... Molly, go get him some water. I... I'll keep an eye on him."
"What are you looking at me for? I'm a doctor, remember? It's under control, Molly. Go. Okay. Here, I take it. Should do."
Later, Molly found Dr. Five staring out the window, a melancholic expression on his face. "Doesn't know anything," he murmured.
"No. And when are you going to tell her? Don't you think your daughter deserves to know that your life could be cut short at any moment?"
Have you ever misjudged someone based on appearances? Share your thoughts in the comments below!
FAQs:
What is Auto Brewery Syndrome (ABS)?
ABS, or gut fermentation syndrome, is a rare medical condition where the digestive system produces ethanol due to the fermentation of carbohydrates, leading to intoxication without consuming alcohol.
What were the initial symptoms Dr. Five experienced?How did Molly figure out the real cause of Dr. Five's condition?
Why was Dr. Five going to Africa?
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