I used to know a guy who as a surgeon was scrubbing out of the OR, mid operation, to leave and smoke crack. He got caught, lost his license, went into rehab and had to leave the state. It was in the newspapers, total rock bottom, and humiliation. He could have taken one last hit off the pipe and taken a ride on his motorcycle off the edge of a ledge in the Grand Canyon and no one would have been surprised. He chose to fight on. After staying clean for a while he begged to get his license back and got hired in some **** town in the rural south. He built his rep back by staying clean and doing good work. He's actually a good guy and a good surgeon. Then, once he had a few solid years behind him, he got a job in a desirable hospital in a desirable location. Now he's many years clean, sober, has a repaired reputation and a wife and three kids.
Then there's the guy who went through a tough divorce. He got cheated on in the most horrendous, humiliating way, by his girlfriend, literally at work with the one person who meant the most to him. Not surprisingly, things got physical and the cops were called. Not only did he get tagged with a strangulation charge, but also had some weed on him. Needless to say, his life went to ****, his face was plastered across the town newspaper, and he tasted enough humiliation for ten lifetimes. Did he swallow the end of a 12 gauge shotgun a la Curt Cobain? No one would have been surprised if he had, but he didn't. Instead, he went to rehab, clawed his way back from the depths of his own doing, and started interviewing for jobs as a "clean, sober, changed and reformed" man. He was hired, and as far as I know, he's plugging along, sober as a potato, in recovery from substance abuse and working as a doc despite a history of criminal charges.
I should write a ****ing novel. Maybe about my life, or these two dudes. Or maybe about the pizza delivery guy I used to work with who got shot in the ass, or the one who never gave up even after being thrown in a jail-hell hole in Detroit for having an unregistered AR-15 that wasn't his during the commision of a crime. I could write a chapter about the ER doc I worked with who survived a plane crash by crawling over people and rows of seats while others more polite and less virile burned alive in the back rows, only to go on to become a pilot himself, who offered rides in his plane with a malfunctioning autopilot between shifts while still working with a full head of lightning-white hair into his 70's.
And I could throw in all my past SDN-EM stories and tie them all together with a great ending with a shootout where the main character survives and realizes the guy whose life he just saved was actually plotting to kill him and run off with his insurance policy and his wife who he never liked, only to be told the very next day by his long lost high school sweetheart he thought was dead that a long lost billionaire uncle he never knew he had, died with no other next of kin, making him a billionaire. Or maybe I won't and it'll all just live in my head and go with me to the grave along the names to protect the innocent.