The Kick Inside Holby City

Ta-daa!

-Is-is that?

-Yes, it's a baby, very observant, Doctor.

I really don't enjoy making complaints about my nursing staff,

but you're leaving me little choice.

I'm not skiving.

-Are you from Belfast?

-County Down.

It's a lovely accent.

Primary Defence - it's revolutionary,

it's the future of emergency medicine.

-Is that so?

-And perfect for AAU.

I am putting you forward for the Junior Doctor Award.

Well, what about the other candidates?

There was only ever one possibility.

-Not listening...

-You need to...

-Not listening...

-Start stockpiling...

I've had all this off Maconie.

Nappies, bibs.

-Can we stick to the theatre list?

-Baby will be here soon.

-THE baby.

-What?

-It's THE baby, not "baby".

-Eh?

Just stick to the definite article.

-Ooh, those hormones are on fire today.

-Doc, check it out.

That appears to be a bunch of grapes.

-Looks like piles to me.

-Don't you get it?

-What?

Grapes, hospital.

-Yeah, funny(!)

-And not any old bunch of grapes, either.

-No?

No, hand-picked by me and Chelsea at the Maison des Beaujolais,

Saint Jean D'Ardieres.

Fascinating.

-Echo went fine, by the way.

-I'm glad to hear it.

Can you let me know when you get the results? I want to update the blog.

You'll be the first to know.

Blog.

-So how far gone are you?

-Five months.

-You're halfway through, you've done nothing.

-I've done loads.

-Childcare?

-Check.

-Baby's room?

-Check.

-Really?

-All right, I'm lying.

Admit it - you've got no plan whatsoever.

Yeah, I have.

Yeah, OK. Maternity leave - discuss.

-A week, tops.

-What?

-As I recall, you only took a fortnight.

-Yeah, that was different.

You think some midget is going to halt my inexorable rise?

-A week.

-And then I foresee an Andy Murray lookalike

getting in touch with his maternal side.

Does he know that?

He will, when the time is right.

Well, I foresee you in a blind panic shopping for dummies

as your waters break.

Bore off, Mo.

Little prezzie for ya.

Late night?

What's it to you, rocket man?

-Are you ever going to tyre of that one?

-Doubt it.

-Morning, Mrs Campbell.

-On a break already?

-No.

And it's Ms. What's today's excuse?

I er...

There she is, my hero.

What are you after?

-I meant Mary-Claire.

-Oh.

-Though, obviously, you're my hero, too.

-Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Found a little old lady collapsed in the car park, didn't we?

Er...that's right.

Looked like a TIA, so MC took her to the ED.

-I see.

-Which is why she's late.

Of course it is.

You need to brush up on your skiving technique.

-D'you reckon?

-Never, ever turn up late with your coat on.

I know. Schoolboy error.

What else have you got in the excuses locker?

I like to keep on the move,

so if you want me you're going to have to catch me.

Not bad, what about props?

A coffee on the move, a quick bite of an apple says,

come on, this is a person that's too busy to take a break.

-I like it.

-And...always, always have paperwork close at hand.

If all else fails, start reading. See how conscientious I look?

Almost like a real anaesthetist.

Ah, Dr Preggers?

-Yes?

-Can you do me a favour?

-What?

-Take a photo.

Let me guess, for the blog.

Normally, it's a travel site,

but Chelsea's doing this jokey piece on me being an NHS tourist.

What's the title, Wish You Weren't Here?

That's actually really good, you mind if I use it?

-Feel free.

-Boy or girl?

I don't know.

-Me and Chels are going to have kids some day.

-Yeah?

-A bit young yet.

You're 34.

We've got a lot of travelling to do.

-Right.

-Ligurian coast next.

-Really?

-And then, when we come back, we're moving in together.

Congratulations.

I can't wait. She's...

I don't know, you know that thing

where you just love somebody so much you can hardly breathe?

Awesome.

If you think I'm dressing any child in a Day-Glo pink shellsuit,

then, you're sadly mistaken.

-There's some lovely stuff in there.

-Yeah.

For the slack-jawed, yummy-mummy, coffee-morning crowd.

-Bit of light reading?

-It's hers.

Yeah, immaculate conception.

Marg Rutter's bloods are back.

Cheers.

-Anything else?

-Nope.

-Mo, I need a favour.

-Yep, what?

Um...I've got a bronchoscopy in a bit,

-then I need to go off and have my scan.

-Oh, It's your 20-week today?

If Ethan Baines' echo comes in, then, check it's clear and kick him out.

-Will do.

-His bed-head's really starting to get on my wick.

It'll be a bit frosty down in obs and gyno when you two show up.

Jonny's not coming.

Wait, isn't this the same bloke

that you want on Nanny McPhee duties in a couple of months' time?

So?

I give up.

LIFT TANNOY: Doors opening. Lift...

I like it.

Nurse Carter.

Patient found unconscious, signs of trauma to the torso.

Oh, he reeks.

He's hypotensive, tachycardic.

He's lost a lot of blood, core temperature 35.

-I know this guy.

-He needs warm IV saline...

-Always see him in town.

-..and a urinary catheter.

-He's a pain in the...

-Would you just get on with it, please?

I'm going to need decontaminating.

-The Pri-Def team will take over soon as.

-Ugh. Pri-Def.

Oh, Lou!

I'm up to my eyeballs at the minute.

Do me a favour and take over, will you?

Jonny.

Yep.

-Have you got half an hour to spare?

-When?

-Post-theatre.

-Depends.

-On?

-Whether I spend it getting flayed alive by your acid wit.

That was the plan.

Then I'll pass.

Your loss.

What did you really want?

-Forget it.

-Already have.

You are joking me.

-New rota?

-Yep.

That is not a happy face.

New rota's up. I got the next four weekends on the bounce.

Bang goes the social life.

Ric Griffin's got it in for me.

-Surely not.

-I'm telling you.

They all think I'm a joke around here.

Then give them a reason not to.

-Like what?

-Take another look at that list.

How many of Ric's new team do you think are working weekends?

-I know the answer to that already.

-So, what does that tell you?

What is the hold-up?

Oh, Jac's back.

Is that meant to be a joke?

Well, I'm here all week, ladies and gentleman, here all week.

-Can we just get on with it?

-Sure.

First off, I'm glad to see that you've stuck with the good old NHS.

For convenience's sake only.

Ah, backhanded compliment - thank you.

What're you doing here anyway?

Well, we always wheel out the A-Team for one of our own.

Well, I'd hate to see the B-Team.

HE LAUGHS NERVOUSLY

Yes.

OK, shall we...? Here.

Ah! Don't, I can do it.

OK.

And where's our proud father? Is he..?

Practising his topspin lob.

Right. We can wait, if it's easier.

Oh, no, I don't think we should add to the air of emasculation in here.

Right! Ah... OK, good, in which case, welcome to your anomaly scan.

OK, Lou, I'll take over.

Is that a cold sore? Think you need a break.

Right! What you need is less cider, more deodorant.

You're a bit quieter than normal.

Any time I see you, you're chasing some poor mug down the street

after their loose change.

I bet you're an eccentric millionaire, really.

Don't worry, your secret's safe with me.

HE GASPS

Oh! God almighty! Let go! Oh!

BEEPING

Oh, great.

ALARM

Don't you dare die on me.

BEEPING STOPS

BEEPING STABILISES

Panic over.

I'll be the judge of that.

I was just doing his obs and he arrested, but I've got him back.

Good work.

Do you want me to tell Lou I'm staying on the case?

Mmm? Yeah, right.

It's just the one in there.

Can I...?

Yes, of course.

Come on, you. Turn round, give your mum a look.

Sex?

Ah, not right now, thanks.

You can't tell cos of the way baby's lying.

Right.

So, how's the lovely Mo doing?

Mo is the life and soul, as per.

Good, please do pass on my regards.

Whatever.

Oh! We're on the move, look.

I can feel it.

Come on, you, let's have a butcher's.

-What?

-Just...bear with me.

What have you seen?

Can you just lie back and let me do my job, please?

You answered back, it must be serious.

SHE SCREAMS

-Congratulations.

-Doctor Of The Year!

-It's only a nomination.

-For now.

Invitations to the awards ceremony.

How exciting!

-I trust you'll be representing your department.

-You betcha.

I hear the nominee from St James's has put together

a rather impressive presentation.

-Really?

-So I trust yours will be polished

-to within an inch of its life.

-Absolutely.

Oi!

Newbie.

Are you talking to me?

You're supposed to be touring the ward, not staring off into space.

-Have you heard the news?

-What?

Digby has been nominated for Doctor Of The Year.

I should think so, too.

-Brilliant, isn't it?

-Yeah. He learnt from the best.

-So, you the new F1?

-Zosia March.

Oh, hiya!

Didn't know today was dress-down Friday.

Me neither.

-Are they invites?

-Yeah.

But you are in the cheap seats. I'm with the boy wonder.

Come on.

Congenital diaphragmatic hernia.

Almost certainly.

There's no "almost" about it.

What do you know about the condition?

A defect in the left side of the diaphragm

allows the stomach and intestines

to move up into the chest cavity, preventing lung development.

Potentially, yeah.

-There's also a risk of pulmonary hypertension.

-Yes.

Plus excessive build-up of amniotic fluid.

I'm sorry.

Survival rates?

Without further complications...

um...50-50.

And if other abnormalities arise?

Well, that depends on the severity of the problem, obviously.

Right.

Thank you.

Washing out his abdomen with warm saline

should eventually bring his temperature up.

Do you want me to extubate him?

Not yet. Let's wait until after the lavage.

How's the Primary Defence scheme going, Mr Griffin?

Well, it's early days, but I'm reasonably happy.

-I think it's fascinating.

-Really, who'd have thought?

I'd love to follow a case right through to theatre.

-Is that right?

-Haven't you got a bomb to set off?

I think Dr Tressler's explosive days are over.

I don't suppose there's room on the team?

-I don't think...

-Fully booked?

No, I am looking for a nursing recruit.

Well, I'm your man.

Excuse us.

To be frank, I'm not sure that you have...

the requisite commitment.

-I have!

-You're always last in, first out.

I was late this morning because of an emergency.

These things don't go unnoticed.

-But...

-I'm sorry. We'll take it from here.

Nice try.

Jac?

You're still here, great.

-I've booked an MDT meeting for later today.

-Right.

-Do you want me to call Jonny?

-No.

-Are you sure?

-I'll handle it.

'Chantelle?'

Ooh, Mrs Handley's asking about her discharge.

Fine, yep.

What's up?

This invitation says me plus guest.

So?

So do you think that means significant other?

Oh, I don't know.

Or do you think you could bring a friend?

Um...yeah or a relative.

Or colleague?

I suppose so.

Unless that person's busy that night...

washing their golden tresses.

Golden dresses?

No, er...

Forget it.

So have you got anyone in mind?

And in direct line of vision.

Who?

You.

Aah!

Thanks!

You're welcome.

-Sure there isn't anyone else you want to take?

-No.

-No family or...?

-Definitely not.

Well, then I'd be honoured, kind sir.

HE CHUCKLES

Yes.

So, a porter will be in to take you to the other ward shortly, OK?

Why didn't you tell her she's got liver failure?

-Cos I don't know that she has.

-It's obvious from the pigmentation in the eyes.

It could be any number of things, OK?

Or are you one of those doctors who doesn't like breaking bad news?

Who are you, the grim reaper?

You're very angry about this awards ceremony, aren't you?

No.

-Do you always scratch your nose when you lie?

-I'm not lying.

Fine.

Look, do you know how many hours I put in as his clinical tutor?

-Malick.

-Yeah?

-Digby's on light duties for the rest of the week.

-Why?

Hanssen wants him in the lab polishing up his awards act.

-Who's covering for him?

-You.

Where next?

Excuse me.

Diggers!

This is the new F1.

She needs a chaperone for her first day and you're it.

-Um... Sorry, no, I'm spending the...

-You know the score.

-..afternoon...

-Show her the ropes,

-and make sure she doesn't kill anyone.

-What about my presentation?

What about it?

-We've actually met before.

-Have we?

I was the year below you at uni.

You always wore that ludicrous dickie bow.

Doc, any news on my CT scan?

What?

Had to give him a CT scan.

-Why?

-Echo threw up more questions than answers.

-What kind of questions?

-You'd better take a look.

Sorry, can I help you?

-Oh, I'm fine.

-Visiting time's not for another hour.

-Did you get my grapes?

-I hope they're going in the article.

-Of course!

-Great.

Along with a line about the lovely Scots guy

who let me in early to visit.

Please, you don't have to.

-You OK?

-Great.

So how many people read your blog?

100,000 hits last month.

And counting.

100,000?

Where's my kiss?

Right, and I'll just leave you guys to it, then.

Had a chance to look at that scan?

No, sorry.

What do you reckon?

Chronic embolism.

-I concur.

-I'll get him booked in.

-Do you want me to break the bad news?

-No. Why?

-Just wondered.

-Last time I checked, he was still my patient.

Course.

So I'm in the presence of greatness?

I wouldn't say that, Mrs Handley.

I can't wait to tell my daughter, Harriet,

that I've been treated by the Doctor Of The Year.

Well, um, this wound seems to be healing nicely.

What about the scarring?

There is bound to be some, but, hopefully, it won't be too visible.

Silly worrying about it at my age.

Oh, not at all, not at all.

So I can go home?

Uh...yes, yeah, I don't see why not.

I'll call my daughter.

That's a...lovely pen.

-Thank you.

-Antique?

New York, 1922,

with an 18 carat gold nib.

Iridium tip?

You are a pen man!

My father was a collector.

This belonged to my late husband.

I still remember filling the ink up for him.

He loved beautiful things.

I can see that.

And quite the charmer, too.

HE CHUCKLES

Um...may I?

-James was a GP.

-Really?

His patients adored him.

That's got a lovely weight.

He was never in a hurry to get them out of the door.

No.

He was the last of the real gentlemen.

Oh, I hope not.

Outpatient bloods done.

-All of them?

-All 56.

Let me guess, New York 1920?

22, actually.

-You know pens?

-Not really.

-Probably just read an article somewhere.

-Oh, photographic memory?

No such thing.

-What?

-You mean eidetic memory?

I'm sure Dr Digby knows what he means.

Then he's wrong.

I don't think you should use that tone to your superiors.

I'm merely pointing out a commonly-held misconception...

OK, can we get on, please?

Course. What mind-numbing task would you like me to do next?

Yeah, this is Jac Naylor, I'd like to delay the MDT meeting

by an hour or two, if that's possible?

Can you let me know? Thank you.

Hey, Doc.

I've got some bad news for you, Mr Baines.

Your CT scan showed up a chronic pulmonary embolism.

Sorry?

It's a blockage in the main artery of your lung.

-My lung?

-You need surgery.

What's this got to do with the valve problem?

Nothing.

You said I just needed warfarin.

-I know.

-That it was just routine.

It was.

What kind of surgery?

-The kind where we crack your chest open.

-Jac!

And unblock the artery.

-Basically.

-But I'll be all right afterwards?

You'll be on medication for the rest of your life

and your right ventricular function will be considerably diminished.

Hey, uh...

Your right lung's going to be a lot worse off.

Yeah, but I'll still be able to...

I don't know, climb a mountain.

If you want to kill yourself, absolutely.

Would you like us to explain to...?

No.

No, I'll...I'll take care of it.

Your prerogative.

I think all you doctors are amazing.

-Right.

-I mean, I've only had a bit of an insight into the job

looking after Ethan the last few months.

-Looking after him?

-You know, dealing with his condition.

His treatment was a daily dose of self-administered warfarin.

-Yeah, I know, but...

-That's not a lot to blog about.

Our blog is number 32 on the top100travelsites.com.

I can't argue with that.

What does it feel like?

Sorry?

Having something growing inside of you? Isn't it totally weird?

-No.

-Ethan's mum's always on about when we're going to have one,

like it's got anything to do with her.

-Hey, tell me to mind my own business, but...

-Mind your own business.

-How did the scan go?

-Not that that has ever stopped you before.

-Is there a problem?

-I take it you'll be joining me in theatre.

-Jac.

Diaphragmatic hernia.

Keep it to yourself, OK?

Sorry.

It is what it is.

What're you going to do?

How're you doing?

All right.

Gave me the fright of my life.

-They said I had a heart attack.

-Yeah.

You saved me?

Sort of.

Thanks.

You didn't hear anything I said before, did you?

How do you mean?

Ah, doesn't matter.

I'm Pat.

Mary-Claire.

I'm freezing.

Yeah, we're trying to fix that.

Me head's banging.

What happened?

Kids, bladdered.

Laid into me in the park.

-Do you want us to call the police?

-No point.

-Why not?

They'll never catch them.

I've seen you out and about.

-Yeah, I thought I recognised you.

-You're a noisy wee sod.

I'm an eccentric millionaire.

What?!

Gotcha.

Cheeky.

What're you looking at?

Just give me a wee minute.

I hope you're not interfering with Griffin's prize patient.

-Where is he?

-Who?

Any joy getting your weekends back?

-Ric.

-I don't know.

-Mr Griffin.

-Yeah?

-I've just been in with Pat McGinn.

-Why?

-I've noticed some blood in his catheter.

-Right.

-Could it be an intra-abdominal injury?

Possibly.

Hello, Pat.

Just need to...examine you.

-What's up now?

-It's OK.

Ah...

See there?

Penetrating wound to the abdomen.

The extreme cold stops the bleeding and it's barely noticeable.

So he's...

I'm afraid it looks as if you've been stabbed.

Eh?

Well spotted.

Let's get him in for a CT scan.

We could take the train from Manarola to Corniglia,

-but I think going up through the hills would give us so much more material.

-Brilliant.

-Hi. Have you had a chat?

-Er...

-Consent forms.

-No, um...

-What for?

Er, can you just leave them there?

You can put her in as next-of-kin, if you like.

Next-of-kin? Consent for what?

Please, can we just...?

-You still haven't told her.

-No.

How were you going to explain the ten-inch scar down your chest?

-What?

-Jac.

-You need an operation?

-I couldn't find the right moment.

Well, you've found it now.

-Wow, nice empathy.

-Don't.

Puts me in mind of another eminent medic.

Erm... Hannibal Lecter, that's it.

She is really out-Nayloring herself today.

-Give her a break, will you?

-I don't know what's rattled her cage now.

Then try and bloody find out.

Eh?

Just talk to her. The woman's having your baby.

I don't know, maybe she needs your help.

Zosia's an unusual name. Where are you from?

Kent.

I meant, originally.

Kent.

Oh.

How long have you and Dr Digby been together?

-We're not.

-Oh?

We're like brother and sister.

And you've never considered the incest route?

What?

Forget it.

-Listen, babes, this Italy trip...

-Don't talk about that now.

I'm OK if you go without me.

-All set?

-Certainly is.

-I'm serious.

-See you in there.

-I love you.

We're supposed to be going trekking round Cinque Terre.

-You know, where they had the mudslides?

-No.

Suppose you could call this a bit of a natural disaster.

Well, he won't be trekking anywhere for the foreseeable.

You done much travelling?

Not my bag, as they say.

Not even at uni?

Too busy studying.

Oh. I don't suppose you'll get much chance now.

Pat McGinn's CT scan showed a lacerated spleen

and a bladder contusion. We're taking him into theatre.

-Right, OK.

-Do you still want a place on the team?

-Sorry?

Jan Harding's called in sick, so we're a nurse down.

-Seriously?

-The theatre manager's OK'd it.

-Yeah.

You wanted a chance. Here it is.

Thank you, Mr Stinky.

Can you sign this?

Would it kill you to say please?

Please.

I suppose you think you're proving a point

by coming in here half dressed like that.

Are you one of those women who thinks we should all be at home baking?

What's wrong with baking?

Nothing. I like cake.

My husband always said that surgery was a profession for a man.

Was your husband a man?

Excuse me?

Thought so.

-What're you doing?

-Looking at your wound.

The nurse just changed the dressing.

What was the diameter of the goitre?

-Five inches.

-That's going to be quite a scar.

-Dr Digby said it won't...

-Still, I guess at your age,

it's not that big an issue.

How are we doing, ladies?

I'm fine, although...

Go on.

Your colleague could do with working on her bedside manner.

-What?

-Poking and prodding without a by your leave.

It's my job to poke and prod.

I'm very sorry to hear that.

Definitely not award-winning material.

Just because I disagreed with your world view.

-I rest my case.

-Dr March.

-I'm supposed to be in the lab by now.

-But you're being held up

-by some lonely old widow with nothing better...

-I'm being held up by you.

-Me?

-Yes. Do you understand how much

winning this prize means to the hospital?

-Yes, is there any chance of coming with?

-What?

-I'd love to sit and observe.

-No.

-Or maybe help out?

Out of the question.

-Didn't you write a paper on lower GI bleeding at college?

-Yes.

We used it as a model in our final-year submissions.

-Really?

-Though I did find your conclusion a little...

-Inconclusive?

-Yes, exactly.

Yeah, I know, it's built on far more solid foundations now.

How am I meant to know that without seeing it for myself?

I think there's some bleeding coming from behind.

-Can't find it.

-Looks like it's coming from the posterior suture line.

3-0 prolene, please.

Why is this happening today?

-Want me to take over?

-No.

-Jac.

-I'll find it.

Fine. Have it your way.

Got it.

I just...I can't get these equations to work.

I bet the bloke from St James's got his equations to work.

-How do you know it's a bloke?

-What?

-I could check the figures.

-You're not familiar with the data.

-You can get on with something else.

There isn't anything else. I have to make this add up.

Oh, well.

Fine. It's all yours.

SHE SIGHS

-We need to stop this.

-Stop what?

There is someone far more important involved than us.

-Enough about Mo.

-I'm talking about him in there.

-I can't do this right now.

-Then when?

She told you, didn't she?

-I don't know what you're talking about.

-Should have kept my mouth shut.

-Jac!

-I have to go!

-Where?

-To an MDT meeting.

-Oh, and of course that's far more important than our baby.

-It is, actually.

-Why?

-Because it's ABOUT our baby.

Sorry, sorry.

You're both here. Great.

-Has Jac filled you in?

-It's all in there.

I'm chairing the meeting,

so if you've got any questions at all just...

-Thank you.

-Great.

I think we're quorate.

I'm sure most of you already know Ms Naylor and Nurse Maconie.

So, the case is a congenital diaphragmatic hernia

detected during the 20-week anomaly scan earlier today.

'Have you no family?'

I did have. Once upon a time.

Wife?

-Had the lot.

-What happened?

I messed it up.

-Cos of the drink?

-That, and up here.

How do you mean?

I was a bad man, out of control.

Well, you don't seem like a bad man to me.

You pulled it off then.

Yeah, looks like it.

Arm out straight, please. Thank you.

I told you to stick at it.

Did you say anything to Ric?

I couldn't possibly comment.

Well, whatever it was, thank you.

You can pay me later.

Some of you may be unfamiliar with the finer details of CDH,

given that it only affects one in every 2,500 newborns.

So, we will monitor lung-to-head ratio

in order to determine the severity of the condition,

and also use MRI in order to try and ascertain lung volumes

and also which organs are actually up in the chest cavity.

So, do we have any questions at all?

Have you discussed termination?

No, I mean, our initial focus

is on discovering the possibility of associated abnormalities.

Once we've got a better prognosis, then, obviously,

we will sit down and discuss options.

-Thought you might have discussed that already.

-No, not yet.

Right.

It's a girl.

Sorry?

The baby, it's a girl.

Oh! Ah...

-Do you want to take a break?

-Please.

No, let's just get on with it.

Are you sure?

Yeah.

Scalpel.

-Nice to see a new addition to our ranks.

-Temporary.

-Can we concentrate, please?

-Sorry.

Suction.

I can't see a damn thing.

Mind out.

What are you doing?

-Retracting the bowel, what does it look like?

-Yeah, I'll do that.

-I'm fine.

-Doctor, nurse - hello?

Junior registrar - thin ice.

Carry on.

Any better?

-Much. Thanks.

-Good.

Jac. Jac!

-What?

-Let me guess, you don't want to talk about it.

-Got it in one.

-How can you be so...?

Look, I had no idea what had been discussed!

Now you do.

This is my kid, too.

-Now, we need to sit down and...

-No, we don't.

We really don't.

HE SIGHS

-Got it.

-Got what?

-If you make the calculation a percentage

rather than an equation, your figures add up.

Let me see that.

Oh, my God, you're right.

-You're right!

-I know.

-St James's, eat your diseased heart out.

-Let's celebrate.

Absolutely. I owe you a very large drink.

-I've got a better idea.

-Whoa! What are you doing?

-What does it look like?

-Um...but!

-What?

We've only just met!

-That's not strictly true.

-Well, even so...

-You don't want to?

-Er...

-OK.

-No, no.

-That's fine.

-I didn't say I didn't want to. I was just...

So you do want to?

Well... It's all very sudden.

That's how endorphins hit the brain - suddenly.

Yeah, I suppose so.

Well then.

How did it go?

You knew.

-Mr T is the best, he'll...

-And you said nothing!

-Jonny, I'm sorry.

-Yeah.

How's Jac?

I couldn't tell you.

It's bound to hit her hard.

-You'd think so.

-Where is she?

-I have no idea.

Jonny, she's going to need your support.

It's my child that I'm worried about,

not Jac Naylor.

Oh, that looks fine.

Let's get him closed up.

Well done.

Thank you, Mr Griffin.

Someone looks like the proverbial dog with two...

Oi. Less of the dog, you.

Who'd have thought it?

Our very own MC Hammer in the running for teacher's pet.

Thoroughly deserved.

Well, I couldn't have done it without Edward.

-You'll have me in tears in a minute.

-Oi, this man is a complete star.

You are too kind.

No, seriously, thank you.

Ugh!

BEEPING

Edward.

What's going on?

BEEPING STOPS

Panic over.

Oh, my God, he looks...

He's just had his rib-cage split it two.

I can't believe he's ended up like this.

The surgery went well.

It's not fair, he's such a lovely man.

-In the long run, he'll be...

-Could he get another one?

-An embolism?

-Yeah.

He's in the system now, so he'll be screened.

We've got so many plans.

You'll have to change them.

What kind of life will he be able to lead?

Lots of medication, lots of hospital appointments.

But physically.

He's going to be pretty limited from now on.

This stuff isn't meant to happen.

I'm afraid that's not how it works.

Is Dr Digby about?

No.

I wanted to see him before I left.

He's in the lab.

I had something for him.

He's working on his research.

-That young man is conscientious to a fault.

-I know.

I had a token of thanks for him.

Oh, um...he might be back soon.

Where exactly is the lab?

Sorry, you can't go in there.

-What do you think I was going to do in there?

-I know, but...

Create a new strain of anthrax?

Sorry.

-What happened in there?

-Doesn't matter.

-Of course it does.

-Forget it.

-Look, I just want to know.

It was a glitch in the meds, that's all.

-What do you mean?

-You marked one of them up wrong.

-Are you sure?

-Afraid so.

-Which one?

The potassium.

But I double-checked.

-I'll go and get them if you want,

-No.

-Don't worry about it.

So it was my fault?

-It's not about fault.

-But...

-It could happen to anyone.

SHE SIGHS

-Is he awake?

-Not yet.

-Right.

-He's been on at me for ages to move in with him.

Yes, he told me.

You know how much of a compromise that was going to be for me?

-I thought it was a done deal.

-I need my own space.

-Don't we all?

Agreeing to it now is a whole different ball game.

What, having to really care for him?

Five years I've put into our website.

Five years, 24/7.

I can't do it.

-Do what?

-Any of it.

There's too much life to live out there.

I can't be someone's nursemaid for the next 40 years!

So you're just going to walk away?

Well, you've got a career, dreams.

You're not much older than me. Surely you understand.

Bye.

Tell him I...

Urgh. Sorry, didn't catch that.

Oh! Mrs Handley.

I think she wanted you all to herself.

Um...

Whatever was going on with us...

..you should have told me about the scan.

-I tried.

-You should have told me what was wrong.

I tried!

You should have told me.

KNOCKING ON THE DOOR

I was looking for Mr Griffin.

Won't I do?

Did you tell him?

About?

-About nearly killing someone in theatre.

-No!

-Right.

-Why?

Well, don't you think you should?

-One tiny slip...

-That could've killed somebody!

Lighten up.

Don't you need to put it in the notes or something?

Put what in the notes?

He said he wanted to see the best of me.

-Which he did.

-This was a bad idea.

If it's too high pressure, then say it's not for you.

-I should never have agreed to it.

-But do not go confessing

-to something that barely happened.

-No?

Let's not forget, we did this to try and save your weekends.

'How're you feeling?'

I'm fine.

The surgery went well.

Where's Chelsea?

We've removed the embolism.

I need to see her.

There's no reason you shouldn't make a good recovery.

She's allowed in here, isn't she?

She's gone.

Where?

I don't know.

What? Did she say when she was coming back?

I wouldn't hold your breath.

What?

When I say gone, I mean...

Totally gone?

That's the impression I got.

Why?

You'd have to ask her.

You're sure you've got this right?

Yes.

-I can't do this.

-Yes, you can.

HE MOANS

-I don't want to.

-Ethan.

I've given up everything to her.

Friends, family.

I packed in my bloody job to follow her dream.

You're better off without her.

Am I?

You'll get through this.

How?

I don't know, but you will.

Otherwise, she wins.

Oh, Chantelle! Have you seen Helen Handley?

-Oh, her daughter just took her home.

-Oh, God.

-She left in a bit of a hurry.

-Did she say anything?

-She was looking for you, but I...

-I know, I know.

She left you...

Where did I put it?

-This!

-Right.

Said it was a thank you to a true gentleman.

-Mr Griffin.

-Nurse Carter.

-I've been trying to register Pat McGinn with a GP.

-And?

-And no-one'll take him without an address.

-Right.

Isn't there anything else we can do for him?

Well, beyond calling Social Services, no, not really.

He can't just go back to the streets.

Well, hopefully they'll be able to sort something out for him,

at least in the short term.

You know, this place on the team?

Yes, look, I haven't made a final decision but...

Don't bother.

Excuse me?

It's not for me.

Since when?

I'm not cut out for it.

Why?

Just a...gut feeling.

After one operation?

Sorry.

Too much like hard work, is it?

Yeah, that's right.

Typical.

What is?

You, giving up after five minutes.

I gave it a go and I didn't like it.

You've got to stick with things.

-But...

-The harder you work at it, the easier it gets.

What if you're just not suited to something?

This morning you were desperate to have a crack at it.

-What happened to your self-belief?

-Belief?

No-one here believes in me.

-And why's that?

-Oh, because I'm bone idle.

Well, perhaps if you spent less time making eyes at Dr Tressler

and more time doing your work...

And a slapper, too?

-I did not mean that.

-Thanks a lot.

-You're not getting out of this so easily.

-Watch me.

For once in your life, you're going to commit to something.

I'm putting you on that team and you will not fail, do you understand?

Suit yourself.

KNOCKING ON THE DOOR

Come in.

Jonny. What can I do for you?

Um...

-I just wanted to go over the facts.

-OK.

-Without the audience.

-Ah!

-Does Jac know you're here?

-No.

Only it'd be easier to sit the pair of you down together.

Well, that might require a cattle prod and a set of handcuffs at the moment, so...

THEY CHUCKLE

What have you done to the hand?

Um...nothing.

-OK.

-I just need to...

-..get it all straight in my head.

-Sure. Look, just pull up a chair. It's fine.

'The upside is pretty straightforward.

'The organs may move down into the abdomen of their own accord

'or we may be able to perform a plication,

'which will pull the diaphragm down into the correct position.

'And the downside?

'It's a bit more complicated, I'm afraid.

'If the lung doesn't develop, then...

'we may be looking at pulmonary stenosis,

'hypertension, mediastinal shift,

'ASD, VSD.'

But if she makes it through the delivery...she'll be OK.

You have to be aware that a certain percentage of children

don't make it to school age,

but, if she makes it that far,

then, she'll have a fighting chance.

Let's hope she's as tough as her mum, then, eh?

-Got my induction course now.

-Fine.

-Be about an hour, they say.

-OK. Take your time.

-Trying to get rid of me.

-Not at all, not at all.

-After you had your wicked way.

-Ooh...

-Calm down, Diggers.

-OK. Just don't call me that.

-Does it not fit your award-winning image?

No, no, no, I'm just a nominee for the time being.

Who are you taking to the ball?

-Sorry?

-Is there a better half?

-Um...obviously not.

-Why obviously?

Do you think what happened would have happened in the lab

-if there was a...?

-So you're the faithful type?

-Can we just, um...?

-Flying solo, then?

-What?

-At the ceremony.

No, no, no. I mean, why?

No reason.

Were you expecting me to invite you?

Expect nothing. Then you avoid disappointment.

-Because...

-Though I do think it's a waste of a seat.

-It's not.

-And I checked the date and I'm available.

-I'd love to invite you...

-That's settled then.

-Is it?

-Thanks.

What?

-Guess what?

-Aah!

-I just ordered a gorgeous dress for the awards do.

-Really?

-Cost an arm and a leg, but who cares?

-Great!

Well, how are you doing?

Bed's too soft.

I thought your toenails could do with cutting.

Could they?

-Keep still.

-Sorry.

How old are you, Pat?

I don't know.

40-odd...

-50?

-Is that all?

What age did you think I was?

Don't know, just...older.

Cheeky cow.

I'm sorry.

I'm only joking.

Not for that.

About what then?

For walking straight past you every day.

Don't be daft.

What were you?

Eh?

You know, before.

What's that matter?

Just interested.

Gardener.

Yeah?

Yeah, I used to keep the parks nice.

So, not a millionaire, then?

Good money in gardening.

Why don't I call your wife?

No.

-Let her know that you're here.

-It's too late.

-Really?

-It's too late.

I'll shut up.

You're one cracking nurse.

Nah.

Bit rubbish, really.

You're my saviour.

What if I told you I nearly killed you today?

Never.

Night-night, Pat.

HE SIGHS

I was just talking to that Zosia.

Were you?

-She's a funny one.

-Is she?

Well, I asked her what star sign she was

and she started going on about how they're all wrong,

cos they were based on how the stars used to be 3,000 years ago.

In Babylonian times. That's actually true.

I don't even care.

-No.

-It was just something to say.

Yeah.

What do you make of her?

Um...

She's got a very keen mind.

-Exactly what I thought.

-Really?

She's obviously very well in with the higher-ups.

Is she?

Well, she's going to your awards do.

-Did she tell you that?

-Mmm.

Did you tell her we're going?

No. I was too busy telling her how brainy you were.

Chantelle...

I don't know what shoes I'm going to get to go with that dress.

-Please don't buy any shoes.

-Eh?

Look, look...um...

I...

Look, I'm not sure exactly how it happened,

but I was talking to Dr March about the ceremony

and somehow she got the wrong end of the stick

and thought that I'd invited her,

and I didn't have the heart to disabuse her of the notion.

I said that she could be my plus one.

Oh.

You daft thing.

I'm sorry, I just...

You don't have to get yourself in a pickle sometimes.

I will pay for the dress.

-Oh, I can send that back.

-You sure?

All I care about is you winning.

So you don't mind?

Why would I?

Thank you. That's...great.

'Knock-knock.'

Who's there?

It's only me.

Hello.

How did it go with Ric?

Well, I told him I wanted out.

-Right.

-He wasn't too happy.

No?

Said some personal stuff.

Really?

-Knew most of it anyway.

-Like what?

I won't bore you with the details.

Did you mention what happened in theatre?

No.

Well, I'm sure it's for the best.

It's not over yet.

-Sorry?

-He refused to let me go.

Oh!

-So now I'm stuck.

-With another chance to make a good impression.

Always look on the bright side, eh?

I will get you those weekends back if it kills me.

What was that for?

For believing in me.

MOBILE PHONE RINGS

-Better answer it.

-Is it the wife?

This will work out. I promise you.

Hello, Serena.

Yeah, yeah.

Uh-huh.

Still here, then?

Your powers of deduction never cease to amaze me.

-I've been in to see Mr T.

-Why?

-I just wanted to get everything...

-You wanted to hear it all again?

-No.

-Did it sound better second time around?

-Actually, it did a bit, yeah.

Oh, good, so your glass is half-full of amniotic fluid?

I realise that things seem a bit grim at the minute.

-But?

-We still have a great chance of having a healthy...

-A 50-50 chance...

-OK, not great.

-..of it surviving.

-But good.

Screw your optimism, Jonny.

Please.

Remember you gave me a 50-50 chance once.

Did I?

Of anything coming out of my womb being the Antichrist.

Come on, Jac, that was...

One of the worst three things anyone's ever said to me.

They were just words.

Well, I'll think of those words for comfort in the wee small hours.

I just want you to know that whatever you decide to do,

I'll be there for you.

How sickeningly reasonable.

-What?

-This is your baby, too,

haven't you got an opinion on the matter?

-You're her mum, she's inside you!

-Is that it?

I only wanted to say that...

there is no wrong choice here.

I wouldn't blame you if...

What?

I just don't want you to put yourself through this on my account.

OK. You win.

Or lose.

HE SIGHS

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