Ric's career is seriously threatened, Mo is compromised when Albie begs her to treat his dying wife and Chrissie is underwhelmed by Sacha's Christmas plans!
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Is that my results?
Yes, it's a fail.
She reckons he asked her to go above and beyond.
She didn't, and now she's worried that's why he failed her.
Do I look as rough as I feel?
No, you look great, actually.
You want to sleep with a married man, you go right ahead,
but take my word for it, it'll all go pear-shaped in the end.
Chrissie, will you take Sacha to be your husband?
Oh, that's so exciting. Of course. Why wouldn't I be?
No, I'd love to have them. Yeah, we'd love to have them.
Oh, er... No. Nothing. Look, you get on.
Yes, I'm thrilled, yes, for you.
And it's cool...for us, I'm sure.
Yeah, it'll be a cool Yule.
Oh, that's unusual.
So, my lovely ex-wife has found herself a lovely new man.
Who wants to whisk her to a luxury hotel in Norway for Christmas. So...
-Coming to us!
You don't mind?
It doesn't really affect me.
-Still, it's, you know...
-Christmas dinner is down to you.
I'll be here having mine at 10 o'clock at night on the ward.
-Like most years.
-So you're sure?
OK, present from ED.
59-year-old female found unconscious
and bleeding in a suite in the Gibson Hotel in Loweswater Road.
Nice digs. Right, straight into bay two, please.
Internal bleeding, rectal pool of blood on the back of her nightgown.
OK. I want full bloods, U's and E's and ten-minute obs...
Can you imagine you and me...
you know, me in baggy shorts and sandals,
you in a sort of itsy-bitsy bikini, sipping tall drinks?
"I just think we'll hove-to around Cap D'Antibes tonight, darling.
"I do so love the escargots at the bistro."
When we retire, eh? Kids are all flown. We sell up.
Buy one of these, take to the seas.
And I thought we were day-dreaming about this Christmas!
A fortnight in St Tropez... not in 15 years' time!
# Santa baby, just slip a sable until the tree for me... #
Christmas songs are like sit-ups. Do them once a year,
make you feel good for about five minutes,
-then you forget them for the next 11 months...
-It's Nurse Macoine.
-What's he want?
-He says it's urgent and personal.
Tell him to rub some cream on it and I'll see him
when I'm back on the ward. Kind of got my hands full here.
Let me be absolutely clear, so I know what you're saying...
Nothing has happened?
I just want to get back to work. End of.
Of course. I appreciate that.
Back to work, on Keller?
With Mr Griffin?
I do know how hard it can be working in a hospital hierarchy.
There are pressures and personalities, obligations,
If you want me to help you, I need you to be entirely honest
with me about anything that has happened.
I just...don't want any trouble.
You're not in any trouble.
Should you feel uncomfortable or compromised in any way,
please do not for one minute think that it's your fault.
What's going on?
-Smoke inhalation incident at a car plant.
-What about ED?
They're up against it, half their staff have called in sick.
All right, listen.
This is how it's going to work.
I need you all to wait over there. You'll get seen as soon as we can.
Emergency enema, bay 3.
Ah, this guy's been bounced up from the ED.
Severe abdominal pains, possible bowel obstruction.
Let's find him a bed. I'll take a look at him when I get a chance.
The quieter you are, the quicker you'll get seen!
I hate this time of year.
-Well, at least you've got something to look forward to.
-What, an enema?
Christmas. Read the rota.
No, I just want to pretend it's like any other normal week
then I won't be disappointed.
-You really haven't looked?
-Imelda Cousins, patron saint of nurses.
Yep, certainly looks after her own.
-Take a look at the e-mail.
Oh, hi, er, that was me, erm... sorry.
I don't know if you got my earlier calls. I...
I left messages because...
I've been told not to speak to you.
I can't talk to you. One-on-one. Alone.
By whom? Who told you not to speak to me?
Mr Griffin, my office, if you please.
Miss Effanga, this is Albert Cheshire and his wife, Jan.
Jan, Albie - Miss Effanga. Her notes. Her scans.
So, you're Mo?
-Hello, I'm Jan.
Albie's told me a lot about you.
Oh, hello! Are you waking up?
I'll just go and get you a doctor.
I'm sorry. I don't understand.
I'll just go and get Mr Malick, he's your doctor. Try and tell him.
She's waking up.
OK. Let's have a look.
She keeps saying something... McGeffen or something.
Mrs Thorner. I'm Mr Malick, registrar here on this ward.
You were in quite a state when you came in.
Lost a lot of blood. But your vitals are stabilising.
BP's falling. 80 over 55...
Pulse back to 100.
We're going to run a few tests and find out why you're bleeding,
and then we're going to keep trying to contact
the hospital on your wristband, find out what's been going on, OK?
Ric Griffin? Are you saying Ric Griffin?
At this stage, any accusation is unsubstantiated and unofficial,
but because of its personal and sensitive nature,
I'd like to follow strict protocol.
I'm sure you understand.
-This is ridiculous.
Personal? What do you think, that I...
I...sexually harassed her?
So, um, Jan has a history of emphysema.
She's been diagnosed with Alpha-1 antitrypsin deficiency
and she is a refugee of the private health service.
These are the best-presented notes I've ever seen.
Beautifully bound with corner reinforcements.
And of course, Jan is Albie's wife. Hey, Albie.
-So now, you know about me, too.
D'you know, I was just off the top of my head thinking,
would Ms Naylor be a better fit for Jan's condition?
On special occasions,
you drink white rum with diet Coke, ice and a slice.
You can't be trusted near a bowl of dry roasted.
Although you don't eat pork scratchings,
and not for religious reasons.
And it seems you make Albie happy.
So I'll page Ms Naylor, then. Yeah?
She knows about us. That's what she's saying.
Yeah, I get that, thanks, Albie.
So...this is uncomfortable. Right. Ms Naylor?
A better fit?
-I'd rather have you.
You know lungs. Says so on the web.
I Googled you - very impressive. On paper.
-Albie likes you, so why shouldn't I?
-Because you might think that I'm...
-We've been married for 22 years.
We don't have secrets. And we don't have sex.
-This is officially...
-She doesn't need to know that.
I don't want her to feel awkward or weird.
Awkward and weird hardly scratches the surface of what this is.
After the private medical insurance max-ed out,
we didn't know what to do.
So you thought you'd come to me.
Most patients with acute A1AT don't last past their 20s
without a transplant.
Well, I am a lot older than that.
So I'm a little bit beyond embarrassment.
This is not going to happen.
At what point did you think it was a good idea bringing your wife
to your girlfriend's place of work?
The point where I thought she was dying
and didn't know who else to turn to.
Like she said. How embarrassed can we afford to get,
if the choice is her suffocating to death?
I'm...I'm sorry, love.
I wouldn't have done this...
I didn't know what the hell else to do.
I'll look at her case notes. Nothing more.
I regard this as defamation, extreme defamation.
Let me make myself absolutely, totally and crystal clear.
As yet, there has been no official complaint. Please sit down.
So, why are we...
There's been some suggestion that a situation may have occurred
during, shall we say, after-hours tutoring?
Everyone in this hospital works after-hours at some stage.
Even though the junior doctor involved had already been
removed from your team, by myself, as I recall?
What exactly did she say?
Oh, come now, Mr Griffin.
You don't for one second expect me
to divulge the contents of a personal conversation!
So, there's no official complaint.
And yet, you seem to be suggesting there's no smoke without fire?
Your words. Not mine.
Of course, there's no way you would even pretend
-to consider actually taking this case.
-I mean, there's no need to say why.
You're sleeping with the patient's husband.
I thought you didn't need to say it!
Look, I'm just looking through what's here, OK?
So there's no need to be all... Just looking through the notes.
There you are! Do you know a lady...
-Not now, Chantelle, please.
-..called Mary Thorner. Sorry.
-Are you busy?
She says she was in chemotherapy with you when you were ill.
-She's here. She's been asking about you.
-Mary's here, now?
She was admitted earlier. Found unconscious in a hotel suite.
She was very poorly when she came in, but her obs are stable now.
IV fluids helped.
Ric Griffin. Even for a doctor, that is pathetic.
-The look on your face. Horror mixed with...unbridled pity.
I know I look terrible.
No, you don't! D'you want me to get you a mirror?
-Only if you want me to smash it.
-You were doing so well.
You, though...now, you look amazing, like Denzel Washington.
Get even more gorgeous with age.
The all-clear turned out not to be all clear.
So, I moved up to Edinburgh to be nearer to my daughter.
Sophie. And...erm twins, your grandchildren. Madison and...
-Madison and Freya...
You were always such a good listener.
So sexy in a man.
Eventually, the hospital up there told me it was inoperable.
They offered me a place in a hospice, nice facility, but...
You missed Holby.
I couldn't give a toss about Holby.
No, it was the children, Ric.
I didn't want them watching their gran
turn into a sad, old, sick woman.
Even though I have apparently been lucky enough to keep all my hair.
We need to run some more tests.
Let's get the notes up from the Edinburgh hospital.
Why were you in a hotel?
The hospice didn't have a mini bar.
Some swelling... distended abdomen...very tender...
clearly causing quiet a bit of pain...
OK, full bloods, U's and E's, LFT's,
Amylase, group and save and clotting.
Let's give him 5mg of morphine and saline IV
and run an abdo X-ray.
-So, what d'you reckon?
-Well, it could be appendicitis...
but let's wait and see what the pictures tell us.
I've been having these niggling pains for some time...and...
a lady friend of mine suggested I try an alternative remedy...
Could that have done any harm?
Like I said, let's wait for the X-ray.
I saw you staggering from your car.
-You looked like you were in a lot of pain.
I'm driving down the motorway, right as rain...
next thing I know it's like... I'm in that Alien movie,
something scary's about to burst out of my stomach.
If I screw my eyes up tight...
you could easily pass for a blonde Sigourney Weaver.
Only of course, you're much more beautiful...
What did you have for breakfast - magic mushrooms?
So what are you doing for Christmas...?
Er, not sure yet.
If I was your man... I'd whisking you away to Antigua...
it's my favourite Caribbean island...
Er, all right...I need a heads-up. I got the boss-lady on the phone.
Apparently someone's boat is messing up her car park?
You might want to get on it. Security is going to move it ASAP.
Right. You might want to give me those keys.
Are they in here?
So, where were we...? Oh, yeah, Antigua.
So, this is where you tell me that, having looked at her files,
you're now transferring her to another doctor...
Not only because you know they can do a bang-up job,
but also because we all know that you're a soft touch
for a worthy cause, and of course you would never want to do anything
highly unethical. Anything that might jeopardise your entire career.
What would you say is the life expectancy of an emphysema patient
with a FEV1 reading of 30%?
A month. Maybe two at the outside. What happened to...
I've seen geraniums that could absorb more oxygen than her lungs.
Mo, she's dying and that's horrible. But it's not unusual. Not here...
What is unusual is that you'd be willing to throw your job away
by pretending it's OK for you to consult on a patient
with whom you have a warped relationship!
Get over yourself! I'm running some tests for a friend...
-It sounds like you're charging mates' rates.
-No, trying to make a realistic prognosis.
You studied the note-file from the private hospital?
Help if they'd learned to use the fancy diagnostic equipment they've got.
Most of these readings are bogus.
Mo. I mean it, don't do this.
-Yeah, it's where we use a camera to...
I know exactly what one is!
You don't think I've come this far without having one?
It'll help me find the cause of the bleed.
I'll tell you the cause.
I have a tumour the size of a puppy wedged in the middle of my giblets.
That much I do know!
If I can find the cause of the bleed,
then I might be able to do something about it.
I checked out of hospital. Dodged hospice.
Hid away in a hotel suite, in order to avoid anything medical.
You think I'm going to let you stick a scope up my sheriff's badge.
Jog on, Ric. What...what?
just how funny you are.
And I'd forgot what a stiff you are! Ric...
Whack me full of heavy-duty morphine and stick me in a side ward.
Nope. Not until I've conducted a thorough examination of your bowel.
..you always were a silver-tongued bastard!
Right... I just need to take an arterial blood sample.
I'll go and wait elsewhere...
-There's no need...
-Yes, there is.
-Yes, there is.
He doesn't like needles.
There's a lot you don't know about him, isn't there?
I'm going to insert the needle into your artery...in your wrist,
draw some blood and test it to see how much oxygen is in it.
I'm sorry...it's going to hurt.
I doubt it.
It's OK. I'm fine.
-We never had children.
No, Albie would have loved them. He wanted three boys!
He's from a large family, you see.
-He'd have been a fantastic father.
But I chose to get sterilised.
-Because I'm a gene carrier.
It killed something in our marriage. Not the love...
So, he helped me run my business. I helped him run his.
We raised businesses, not children.
He's a very good man.
-Too good to be left on his own.
I'm just going to have to hold it here for a few minutes... till it clots.
I really shouldn't be doing this.
Then walk away. I'll understand.
Hiya... I thought you'd be on Mr Griffin's team today.
-Interesting case, apparently.
-No. Not today.
Is there still something wrong between you and Mr Griffin?
-Because, if there is, you should just talk to him.
Honestly, he's ever so understanding and kind. Really.
Am I what you expected?
Come on. Bet you had me down as a right chubby little munter.
-Or a skeletal career woman with too much make-up.
All right... I thought... super-skinny...
Well...hoped. Brittle. Stuck up. No fun.
Oh...sorry... I didn't mean that.
You must really hate me.
If this was the other way round...
and you knew you wouldn't see another Easter egg again...
what would you want?
Honestly, I don't know.
You'd want the man you love more than anything
in the whole wide world to be OK. To find someone.
-But he's YOUR husband.
-He's my best friend.
And I know that when I'm gone, and he meets someone, then...
..his heart will always be mine.
You do know that I had no idea you were ill, right?
I wouldn't have gone anywhere near him if I'd known.
And I wouldn't have let you, if I wasn't.
How do you think I'll do?
Bed 5. Michael said could you take a look at his x-ray.
Bed 5, the x-ray.
You lost your key?
Um...no. Ah, you mean my car key? Yeah,
er, the boss lady sent down for it. To move my boat
Oh, of course. You're him! Ah, what a lovely boat!
Not that I know anything about boats.
Nearest I've come is the cross-channel ferry.
-Nice buffet, though.
-Erm, my key...?
Ah, yes, sorry. Your key. I found it.
-In your colon.
It would explain the pain and the temperature.
Looks like it's about to burst into your small intestine.
Yeah! I did swallow a key once.
-20 years ago.
-20 years ago?!
Yeah, the Munich beer festival. For a bet
with the bosun of the German transatlantic team.
-I mean, I was young then...
-So, it never cropped up since?
Well, I just assumed it had sailed on through.
No such luck. There'll be no Christmas pudding for you this year.
That's not a problem. Can't stand the stuff. All that stodge.
Ooh, I love stodge! Christmas time. I say, bring on the stodge!
Bread sauce. Stuffing. Christmas pudding, cake.
Lashings of brandy butter and the Queen's speech.
Now that, my friend, is Christmas...
Oh, better go.
Bread sauce? Urgh!
I know! Whoever thought about making a sauce out of bread?
Well, that doctor just described my idea of Christmas hell.
This a private party? Because I didn't seem to get an invite.
Miss Effanga... Professor Hope said he'd be happy to stand in when I explained
about your clash. Your other commitment?
where the emphysema is compressing the healthy lung
so it can't absorb oxygen...
It's not good news, I'm afraid.
A healthy set of lungs has five lobes that absorb oxygen...
-Jan's operating on two.
-What are her chances?
-Without a transplant?
And the prospect of a suitable pair of lungs in time?
She's not on the transplant list.
We'd have to take her through the MDT processes and assessments. It takes time.
-There anything you can do?
-Lung volume reduction.
Might buy her some time.
-You can do that?
-Mo can't, but...
I hear you have a clash?
No. Not any more. Just rescheduled.
Right, good. I'm sorry it's a gamble, Albie.
But this is a good team. She couldn't be in better hands.
So, your union rep says moving boats isn't in your job description?
Sorry, not my problem.
I feel like royalty.
I bet not many patients get to see the inside of Mr Griffin's office.
-Only the very special ones.
-We having a party?
If discussing the treatment now I've got your results counts as one...
Wow, you really know how to let your hair down.
Mr Griffin. Excuse me. Can I have a quick minute?
I'm sorry. I just want to explain.
Hello. Something going on here.
Nothing to see here, Mary.
Now, I'd like to introduce you to my number one surgical team
and explain a procedure to you.
It's a fairly radical operation, called the Hartmann's procedure.
So, you want to cut up chunks of my lungs?
-You don't have to agree to this.
-What's going to happen?
I'll be cutting out bits of dead lung. The bits that don't work.
And that'll give the good bits more of a chance to function.
Like weeding a veg patch?
Oh, you're sweet. You make it sound nice.
But I think her version of events - chopping up chunks of lung -
is probably more accurate.
-What's the risks?
Chest infection, air leaks, respiratory failure
and, of course, there may be no reduction to your symptoms.
So, it might not be any use at all?
There's no guarantee that we'll be buying any time.
Lung volume reduction surgery is only suitable
for a minority of emphysema patients.
About 20% or less.
So, you don't think I should do this?
It's not that I...
That's not a problem. Quite the opposite.
She owes me. So, today, now,
in this hospital, who could do it better? Anyone?
So, basically, you remove all my entrails.
Gut me like a fish.
Turn me into a pyjama case?
We'll attach the end of your colon to the wall of your abdomen
and create a stoma.
You'll have a bag.
And you expect me to agree to this?
Mrs Thorner, the Hartmann procedure is very radical.
But please don't worry, you're in good hands.
If the boss-man here did private medicine,
people'd fly from all over the world to go under this knife. Trust me.
You got a loyal crew around you, Griffin?
I'd like to think so.
You seriously think that hollowing me out
and fitting me with a...
a business bag is going to make any difference?
I think - if it works - it could give you several more years of life.
Life where you'll be able to function perfectly normally,
wear whatever clothes you like,
and be as active and as cool a granny
as Madison and Freya could ever wish for.
I hate you, Ric Griffin!
-Is that a yes?
-Yes, yes, yes.
Chrissie's going to love it.
See, I just believe in doing it to the max, you know?
Christmas saturation. Total immersion.
Mum makes this Christmas chocolate cake, you know,
it's so rich it could suck the teeth right out...
Ah, Mr Hemmingway... so this is where you hide?
-It seems I have a bone to pick with you.
What's going on? Dr Birdwood.
There was a misunderstanding.
There was...a situation,
which, I don't know - through a series of Chinese whispers -
wrong end of the stick just got blown up into something more.
Oh, good. Well, that's all sorted, then.
-Complicated? I get that.
What happened? What's going on?
-Don't say nothing! Come on, Ric!
Dr Birdwood has lodged an... informal complaint against me.
What?! How? What happened?
Absolutely nothing. Really.
It's just been blown up out of all proportion.
OK. Cool. Well, that's good enough for me.
Come on, Albie, my darling.
I need you to man up.
I need you to be strong for me.
I can see your feet.
Sorry to interrupt...
I'm just dotting I's, crossing T's. You OK?
I'm fine. Can I ask you something?
Yeah, of course - anything.
Albie. I need you to go for a minute.
I need to talk to Mo on my own.
-What if it goes wrong?
Like I end up a vegetable.
If you have any specific instructions in relation to your care,
-in the event...
-Yeah, I do, I do.
-Well, then, we need to discuss it,
-and you need to discuss it with Albie.
He's a lovely man. But he's going to buckle
and if I need someone to pull the plug,
-I can't rely on Albie.
-He's your husband.
Which is why he won't do it.
Our marriage might not be at its best,
but he loves me too much to let me go.
I need you to be in charge.
Where are you going?
I'm trying to get myself to the loo, if you must know.
-Well, you'd be better off waiting in bed.
-I'll get you a nurse...
-..and a bed pan.
-I said no!
OK. You're a feisty one, aren't you?
I'm about to have my bowel removed and a bag fitted -
this could possibly be the last occasion
I ever get to sit on a toilet and go out of the appropriate holes!
I am not using a bed pan.
OK. I hear you.
Thank you...very much.
I told you. Didn't I?
I told you this whole Albie thing was going to end in a train wreck.
I just thought you'd get all bent out of shape
and comfort-eat on doughnuts for a month.
Not flush your career down the toilet.
I can't help it. It's a long shot as it is.
Don't do this just because you feel obliged to Albie.
I'm not! It's not about him! I'm doing this for my patient.
I just...paced outside. OK?
And I came to the conclusion I can't have anything to do with this.
OK. I understand. No hard feelings.
But now that I see what a total basket case you are...
So, you with me, or...?
Am I with you? What are we? The A-Team now?
Ms Effanga is performing a VATs procedure,
so we need the scope from theatre 2.
Right? Because we all know that's the good one!
The patient has arrived, so bleep the gas-monkey. Now!
My advanced directive...
"If I am not able to breathe on my own,
-"it is my wish to be allowed to die with dignity."
How long have you worked with Ric?
Not long. Few weeks. To be honest,
I didn't know till just now he even HAD cancer.
Oh, yeah, been there, done that, worn the T-shirt.
I tell you, if it's a fight between cancer and Ric,
cancer better watch out.
You must know him pretty well.
Spent hour upon hour with someone in chemo,
being pumped full of evil chemicals,
you tend to scratch beneath the surface.
A prince among men.
I'd heard about him before I arrived. I really admired his work.
Mary...? Mrs Thorner? You OK?
Oh, sweet... No, no, no, no...
Can we get some help in here!
-Mary, can you hear us? Mary?
Mary, it's Chantelle, can you hear me?
All right. Straight to Theatre.
-No, not you.
-But I want to...
There it is.
Pulmonary stapler, please. How's she doing?
Stats are good.
Well done, we may just be buying her some more time.
It's quite simple. We don't look after the nursing staff,
patient welfare will suffer. Oh, Dr Birdwood?
He kissed me.
I'll catch you up.
I want to make it clear. That's what all this is about.
Shall we take this elsewhere?
I didn't want to say anything before, I didn't want to get anybody in trouble.
-I think this would be best discussed in private.
-He kissed me!
-When we were in the wet lab...
-You don't need to go into detail here.
-I didn't want it to happen.
I didn't want any of this to happen.
-Any of the bowel we can save?
-Enough to fashion a colostomy.
Tumour is up into the colon,
bladder, uterus is wrecked...
She needs an en-bloc resection.
I think you're right.
Right, Jonny, IV diazepam. Quick as you can.
OK. All right, Jan.
Albie, we need you out of here now, please.
I need you to understand, Dr Birdwood,
that, as your manager, I have a legal duty -
a professional expectation -
to protect you against bullying and harassment in the workplace.
And it is for that reason and that reason alone,
that I'm going to have to ask you to go home.
-What, to Australia?
-No, no, no. Of course not, my dear!
No, no, not "home" home. I mean to your digs, your quarters.
You don't need to worry about him any more.
What will this mean for him?
This is now a formal complaint of sexual harassment
and professional misconduct,
as I believe, from what you have told me...Lilah...
Shall I call you Lilah?
..that there is sufficient substance in your allegation
to commence an investigation,
in accordance with Trust disciplinary policy.
I'm sorry, my dear, that sounded like SUCH a mouthful,
but at a time like this, protocol needs to be followed to the letter.
She's arrested, she's gone into VF.
And we're off.
Right, so I finally can get to tell you
that I am off all over Christmas.
I've got to work New Year's Eve,
but I am off Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, Boxing Day,
-and two days either side!
-Oh, wow, that's fantastic!
I was thinking we should do something different. Something exciting.
Ah! Like a four-bird roast!
A duck inside a chicken inside a turkey inside a... No, wait.
Hang on, must start with something smaller.
Anyway. I love it! Anyway, it's great.
No, that's not what I was thinking. I thought we could try and...
Ooh, a karaoke machine! Ah, if we're all together,
it'll be brilliant! You want to hear the girls do Sister Sledge...
# We are family... #
No. I thought maybe we could go away...
-Oh, my good God!
No wonder he's in so much pain!
Key's twisted and perforated his bowel.
Right. Saline flush, please, and two Robinson drains.
Probably lucky it happened here.
If it had happened in the big ocean,
could've really scuppered his chances.
Right, 4-0 vicryl, please.
No pupil response to intense incident light.
The final test is the gag reflex. She should respond automatically.
Gag reflex - negative.
Jan has suffered a pneumothorax,
which has caused respiratory arrest and hypoxic brain damage.
Her brain's damaged due to a lack of oxygen.
OK...OK, she's, erm, she's in a coma.
-So, what do we do now?
-It's not a coma, Albie.
We've taken her off the ventilator
and she's unable to breathe for herself.
We'll put her back on the ventilator, temporarily, until...
Until you work out what to do?
You know Jan left very clear instructions
-in the event of something like this...
-I don't care.
I'm her husband.
I love her.
I've lived with her illness. I can live with this too.
You're not switching her off!
You said she had a chance.
We all agreed. Jan did too.
Lung volume reduction was worth a try.
If we hadn't, she'd still be here, fighting for every last breath
before her lungs turned solid.
She didn't want to end up like this.
-If she'd known she was going to end up...
-She knew the risks...
..that's why she wrote this.
D'you want us to read them out together?
She doesn't want her life unnecessarily prolonged
That's what it says.
-"If I'm no longer able to breathe..."
-I know. I can read.
You...you shouldn't have been treating her.
-How do I know that you...
-Albie, Mo did everything she could.
I could have you struck off.
And I'm telling you now, absolutely and categorically,
Professor Hope couldn't have done more for Jan.
And now Mo is trying to do exactly what Jan wants.
It's not what I want.
All the more reason Jan should trust Mo.
Because she knew, as a professional,
she would carry out her wishes to the letter.
It doesn't matter what you think of me.
All that matters is that we do exactly what we promised Jan we'd do.
She wanted dignity.
She loved you so much and knew you so well.
She knew you'd never let her go.
So, she made sure I would.
I got it.
Mr Griffin, just wondering if you could give me an idea
of when you might be finishing up?
At this stage, impossible.
Or a moment...if you're having a break, say,
when we could talk?
Ah, why don't you put the kettle on?
I'm sure we'd all like to nip out for a cup of tea and a biscuit!
I'll come and find you when I'm done.
It IS a matter of urgency.
Mr Griffin, that is...
When do I switch her off?
Up to 12 hours after the brain stem test.
Do I wait until the last minute?
It's up to you.
Does it make it any easier...
..if I hold her hand for the next ten hours?
Will I feel better then?
There's, erm, a reason
Jan stipulated 12 hours in her advanced directive.
In case she woke up?
Half a day to pull off a miracle?
-..for organ donation.
We technically shouldn't even be speaking to you about this
because we're your friends,
but our colleague here can answer all your questions.
-You can discuss anything with her, anything that concerns...
Jan signed her donor card, but the final decision's yours.
-Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Just a lot of very tight stitching.
We got ten minutes till the bloods arrive. All going well, though.
-This is bang out of order.
-Have we done yet?
What's the problem? This about Lilah Birdwood? This because we both failed her?
Look, she failed.
I failed her. He failed her, because she's not up to scratch.
-It's not about the assessment. Or you, Mr Malick.
What is it? We've already had a complaint from a patient about her.
She doesn't turn up for her shifts. She's a flake.
Malick, I can deal with this.
Once this operation is finished, I need to talk to you in your office.
Oh, come on! We all know who the valuable one is here.
Mr Griffin's just done the most complex Hartmann's procedure...
so who's worth more to this hospital. Him?
Or some jumped-up CT1 with a case of the "poor me"s?
-I'm not sure I like your attitude!
-Tell her what you told me.
Nothing happened, all right? Isn't that right, Mr Griffin?
A word of advice.
If you're going to robustly defend someone,
make sure you get all the facts first.
You said nothing happened.
Yours, I believe?
A man called Heinrich Spitz swore I'd never swallow it.
Ah! And who said youth was wasted on the young?
Look, this is going to sound really, really cheesy,
but if I don't ask, I'll be kicking myself.
Go on, what?
I always need new crew, especially crossing big water.
More hands the better. If you wanted to join me, it'd be a six-day trip.
Yeah, sorry. Like I said, if I don't ask...
That's really very...very kind,
but I'm married and I've got a two-year-old son
and two step-daughters and a mother-in-law.
He's a lucky man...whoever he is.
You've actually met him.
Ah, right, yeah, the cool Yank with the stubble and the moves.
No. The one who removed your key.
Oh. Oh, right. Well, he's...
a really nice guy. Really nice.
-You sound surprised.
I just... I didn't put you and him...
He's a very, very lucky man.
Guess what? Spoke to Ma Levy... talked through a few things
said she couldn't borrow a karaoke machine - but better. Much better...
Wait for it... she can get her hands on a catering-sized chocolate fountain!
Can you imagine?
-Says it's so big you can chocolate-coat a small dog!
Ah, I'm so pumped! The girls are gonna love this.
-Where are we going to put it?
Sorry... I've just got to go and DO something.
Chocolate fountain? I'm due a karaoke machine!
There must be some kind of muddle-up...
I'm sure it'll all get sorted out.
Oh, you can bet it will be.
-Her B/P's through the floor.
-Pulse is up. She's cold and clammy.
It's a bleed...
We need her back in theatre. Get Ric.
-Just get him now!
So did I...? Did I apologise enough?
Yeah. Don't worry about it. You're not the first patient to ask me out.
And I bet I'm not the last!
First one to ask me on his boat, maybe.
D'you know what, I envy you.
Yeah. I may be moored in a sunny harbour over Christmas...
-spending the afternoon on deck...
-All right, thank you!
But, I'll be alone.
And you'll have your Dr Levy...
-What can you see?
-I can't SEE anything. Suction!
-Where's the bleed?
-In the pelvis...by the looks.
A sidewall vein.
I thought you'd gone.
I can't get to it. The stitches just aren't holding.
You need to under run.
I can't. Look, she's going to bleed out.
Ric... I need you in here.
You have 47 minutes till the end of your shift.
After that time, I need you to leave the building.
There you go. I moved it.
Well, Security refused to do it... Jobsworths.
And the powers-that-be were about to call the police to tow it away...
Ah, thank you - thank you, so much. Well look...
there's something on the boat, in the fridge,
I was saving for Christmas, but I'd really like you...
and your wife to have it. It's just a little thank-you.
You happy now...?
Zipped me open, pulled out all my stuffing...
Can't wait to get on the bathroom scales!
Me - Weight Watchers Slimmer of the Week.
I got it.
What's all this about?
I'm going home now. I'm not sure when I'll be back.
But Mr Malick...
This about this girl, isn't it?
Don't get coy with me, Ric Griffin! I know your secrets.
Remember? All those sessions.
I know when you lost your virginity
and about the love poem to Shirley Bassey.
You're being suspended for having an affair with a junior?
It wasn't an affair. It was just a kiss.
One stupid kiss.
How long you been a doctor?
And they're prepared to throw all that away, for a kiss?
D'you want me to stay?
We might have a boat of our own, you know...
sail off somewhere safe. Like, you know,
the Isle of Wight, or Norfolk Broads...
Nothing too grand... as long as we're together
The Isle of WIGHT...?
I do know I'm not quite the man of your dreams...
No, I'm big, I'm loud.
I have a big, loud mother.
I'm not quite as ambitious as you'd like me to be...
I love you just the way you are.
Barry White! You know...
# I love you just the way... #
No, it could be your karaoke opener...
If we were still having a karaoke machine...
-No, the girls aren't coming now.
-Helen's new boyfriend offered to take them to the ice hotel too.
Bit of a money-bags apparently.
Oh well. I guess it'll be easier...
It'll still be nice. Christmas with you, me and Daniel.
And your mother....
Well, Imelda Cousins found out about the camper van...
Hospital car park isn't an appropriate place to park it.
-So, she's served him with an eviction order.
I know! Five days and it gets towed.
So... I said he could park it outside the house.
Just until he finds somewhere safe.
And then, of course, I said, we'd love him to come and spend Christmas with us too.
Go on. Say it. You know you want to...
I told you so.
Yeah, that must feel better.
Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd
The atmosphere is strained between Ric and Lilah because of their kiss. When Imelda gets involved, she only serves to antagonise an already fragile situation, resulting in Lilah making a formal complaint against Ric.
Mo's boyfriend Albie brings his dying wife to Holby for treatment. Jonny is determined she shouldn't get involved - but will Mo listen to him?
When a patient towing a yacht arrives on AAU, Chrissie finds herself fantasising about a Caribbean island Christmas - unfortunately for her, Sacha is only dreaming of family karaoke and chocolate fountains!