Ben’s mother Nanci explained that she and her now-deceased husband Donald tried to do everything they could to help the son they adopted and lovingly raised since birth. She was in the medical field and noticed Ben’s related interests at an early age. She observed, for example, that he would “take his sister’s dolls, undress them and draw skeletons on them, filling in all the bones.”
As he grew older, everything about Ben seemed normal to Nanci and Donald. “He was a good kid,” Nanci said. Although Ben was shy and “would rather hide behind his mother than meet new people,” he was well-behaved and protective of his younger sister Melissa, who also was adopted at birth a couple of years after Ben.
When Ben was ready for college, ultimately to become a doctor, his parents shouldered as much of the financial burden as possible. Now a sharply dressed “lady’s man,” he made his undergrad preference clear – the University of Florida, because he didn’t want to go to a smaller more remote institution. For Ben, it was all about the “vibrancy” of the campus, which wasn’t lost upon admittance in 1992 to a top medical school, the University of Pennsylvania, where he met Mary and received a doctorate despite what his mother called a history of somewhat mediocre grades.
Trouble surfaces before residency
Residency at the Medical College of Georgia at Augusta University was the final stop in Ben’s quest to earn the credentials required for a medical license. It took a total of more than 12 years, but this is where the journey almost came to a screeching halt in 1997.
Ben failed the mandatory drug test he had to take upon arrival.
Mary reflected on this especially dire time in a recent series of interviews. She had given birth to their first son, Jared, the previous year, and the prosperous life the Firsts dreamed of was suddenly in great jeopardy. According to Mary, a beautiful Venezuelan with long black hair and dark eyes, only one thing made the college dean give Ben another chance.
“We were at a gathering at his house for all the first-year interns. Jared was with us, and I got to speak with the dean for quite a while. I believe to this day that he felt compassion seeing that we had a baby, a family in the making, and that’s what swayed him. He decided to let Ben take the drug test over.”
And he passed. Because, as Mary acknowledged, “Ben tricked the test.”
Despite all his transgressions, felonies and other legal offenses spanning nearly two decades after receiving a Florida medical license in 2000, Dr. First repeatedly returned to “shucking teeth,” as he referred to his profession.
A state program designed to help impaired physicians recover from drug and alcohol abuse also gave Dr. First the ability to continue practicing. Called the Professionals Resource Network (PRN), its stated mission is to “protect the health, safety and welfare of the public, while also supporting the health and integrity of Florida’s healthcare and other professionals.” The PRN acronym initially stood for Physician’s Recovery Network. Florida was one of 12 states considered pioneers in developing these programs that offer medical practitioners a stigma-free way to get help and have a means of retaining their licenses whenever possible.
When Dr. First again overdosed on NOS in June 2011, his wife had him hospitalized in conjunction with the state’s Baker Act statute. It can be used to force emergency services and temporary detention for up to 72 hours for mental health examination.
As Ben was released from hospitalization, the discharge papers explained that he had entered three days prior with symptoms comparable to what occurred “a few years ago because of nitrous oxide abuse.” It was noted that Dr. First’s previous “PRN contract terminated in 2009.”
The report went on to say that Ben had difficulty remembering how many children he had and couldn’t recall their ages. However, he was no longer hallucinating. I was at the hospital after my friend was admitted. He spoke of images emerging from pictures on the walls and later confided that he had “been to the other side,” where he encountered horrible things that “weren’t imagined.” Antipsychotic medications Ben received included a couple of doses of Zypresa, which can help alleviate several mental health conditions such as schizophrenia and bipolar disorder.
Remarkably – and rather paradoxically – the hospital discharging Ben stated, “We strongly recommend that he again get involved with the PRN program, but this is a voluntary program, and the patient does have to do this.”
Despite capturing Ben’s stated agreement that it would “be a good idea,” the report said, “at the time of discharge, it was unclear whether he would actually follow through with that recommendation.”
Concluding remarks acknowledged, “He is still not back to normal and has agreed to stay out of work for a week or so.” Dr. First received the name of a recommended “addictionologist in Tampa,” suggesting follow up “could take place there or again through the PRN program.”
Not the same Ben
When Ben’s wife Mary picked him up from the hospital, she was uncomfortable not knowing what to expect. After all, she had Baker Acted him and forced him into the hospital. Would he retaliate?
“I don’t know who that was I picked up that day, but it wasn’t Ben anymore. I didn’t receive guidance or any manner of reassurances to help me deal with him.”
In the final section of the release document, labeled Plan and Recommendation, it said:
“The patient will return home with his family and hopefully follow through with the PRN network. He will be arranging follow-up, hopefully with the psychiatrist in Tampa or with somebody else of his choosing.”
I shook my head and wondered how the system seemingly let Dr. First choose his own destiny. Must not be enough people shucking teeth, I surmised.
Whatever the case, how would you like to be that first patient scheduled for surgery with Dr. First after his psychotic hallucinatory event that lasted three days – and then some?
Maybe you’d rather not know or reconsider if you did. Regardless, my friend Ben didn’t adhere to the “advice” he received. He had already missed some appointments at his offices. It was time to catch up.