Damnit Jim, "rather not dwell." You brush everything under the table and ride each adrenaline high for all it's worth until you crash. And now there are no adrenaline high, or not enough, and you don't know what to do, do you?

[He glares right back.] What I want is to make sure you don't end up cracking your fool skull open trying to find that damned high. Do you want me to cite regulation? A CMO's duty to make sure the ship's captain is fit for command physically and mentally?

[He sighs, rubbing his temple.] I say it because you're my friend Jim, and you've sure as hell kept me sane. Now stop sweeping this shit under the table and help me here. "Moving on" my ass.