When I Grow Up Holby City

-Cancer melanoma.

-Yes. There are no wormholes here, Arthur.

A senior member of staff has expressed

a concern about your mental state today.

I can't let you assist.

Another time?

Yeah, another time sounds good.

Did you tell Mo not to take me into theatre today?

Yes.

We're finished.

And it's bad, it's really bad.

The fact is -

I'm going to die.

How am I? That's a question.

Um, one that's open to multiple interpretations.

I mean, how am I now, physically, walking along this corridor?

Pretty good, I think.

Or, how am I generally, in relation to my current treatment regime?

Well, I think the meds are settling.

Um, or how am I in myself?

As my mother is wont to ask me.

Although you're not my mother, obviously, but...

It is arguably a platitudinous inquiry, but it is designed to help

make a patient-centred assessment of your ability for work today.

Not a patient, thank you.

I'm sorry?

Still a doctor, last time I looked.

HE COUGHS

I don't like that cough.

Bring it on.

Sorry, it's not a phrase I normally use.

My stethoscope, please.

I have seen my GP.

If you'd be so kind.

"Henrik Love Hanssen".

It's pronounced "Loo-veh". Swedish equivalent of the name Louis.

Nothing to do with love as such.

Not for me to say, Dr Digby. Turn around, please.

Sorry. Rude.

Breathe.

-Just as well I didn't get one of these engraved myself.

-Shush.

Honestly, Mr Hanssen...

All right, that'll do. I'll walk down with you.

Why?

I'm lending my services to Keller today.

-Really?

-Mm.

I'm keen to avoid accruing a backlog in general surgery. Come on.

-Right.

-Come on.

-All right, thanks for dropping the kids off, mate.

-It's all right.

I remember a time when I used to call my car "the sexmobile".

Oh, mate! Please tell me that isn't true.

The sexiest thing about this motor is Mikey's light-up globe.

-Ow! What've you done to it?

-Nothing!

It was working before you dropped your rubbish on it.

Look, give us it. I'll fix it.

Sorry.

You looking for Zosia?

Why would I be looking for Zosia?

You know you're going to have to have a conversation with her at some point.

Please tell me HDU is free.

-And this is...?

-Widdows, up from the ED.

Pulmonary oedema. He just crashed in the lift.

We were in bed. I thought he was messing around.

I thought he was pretending to have a fit or something

and then he starts frothing blood out of his mouth.

-Have we got a timeline, please?

-Well, I was doing CPR on him for about ten years.

Prepare for shocking.

I just did what I'd seen on the telly.

-BEEPING

-Charging.

Clear.

Shocking.

BEEPING

He's in sinus. BP 90 over 60.

Oh, God!

You're amazing. Thank you.

Have I... Have I seen you somewhere before?

-No.

-Yes.

I was in the local paper.

Oh, I remem...

Ah. Well, they were obviously wrong about you.

I mean, you clearly know what you're doing.

Joanne, how about we go and get you a coffee?

I'm not in hiding.

Good.

She was right, by the way.

Which might come as a surprise to someone

who thinks I'm "terribly vulnerable" and "unable to cope".

SHE SIGHS

How do you get this thing open?

Yeah, I wouldn't worry about that right now. Morven needs you.

-Greg Evans. Came off his bike.

-That's the one.

Splenic bleed. Second on the list.

Pretty straightforward.

Dr Digby. Is there a problem?

Maybe we should think of it as a challenge. Like a test.

Greg was just about to sign the consent form.

-It's all right to call you Greg, isn't it?

-Greg's fine.

Sorry. What's going on?

I can't have a general anaesthetic.

I'm sure the anaesthetist can reassure you of any...

But I won't be able to wake up.

Yeah, that's the general idea.

Mr Evans - sorry, Greg - is slightly concerned that he is going...

-It's about being God.

-Sorry?

-But I know what people think.

-Can you wind back?

Greg's worried that if he can't wake up,

the universe will be in danger of...

What was it you called it again?

Existential catastrophe.

Existential catastrophe.

I'm not signing.

Morning, Dr Digby. How are we today?

Still got cancer, thank you.

Of course.

Tanya Gilmartin. Appendicectomy.

She's a child.

She's 15. Deemed competent.

-You all right?

-Why is everyone smiling at me?

I'm not smiling.

Did you know Mr Hanssen's middle name is Love?

Well, that just goes to show that the old saying

"you slowly turn into your name" is a complete load of rubbish.

Nominal determinism.

That's the one.

Yes, you're right - your name is given to you by your parents.

It has no bearing on your personality.

-Otherwise you would have been called Control Freak, which I'm sure sounds a lot better in Swedish.

-Oh!

You all right? You got a pain?

No, not mine. Um...

Mr Hanssen? Tanya Gilmartin...

Is anyone in charge here?

Regarding?

Tanya Gilmartin. No-one's said anything to us since her op.

Um...Dr Digby.

Yes. Er...hello. Let's find somewhere to talk.

Pete Widdows' echo?

Er, Mo's just doing the ultrasound.

CARA CLEARS HER THROAT

Talk to her.

-She's made her feelings very clear.

-She wants you to fix it.

Do you think it's that simple?

Compared to having a cheating undercover cop as a husband.

I agree with Nurse Martinez. Please put us all out of our misery.

Her best friend has terminal cancer.

Do you really think it's about me?

-SHE WHISPERS:

-Hey! Go on.

SHE SIGHS

Hiya. Any news on Pete?

-Er...

-Well...

Yes, we're waiting for the echocardiogram.

Right, could you, er...could you ring her?

Annette Widdows.

Yeah. I'd do it myself, only she's kind of...his wife.

Maybe not mention me just yet.

Zosia...

Dr March.

You're across this, aren't you?

Good.

SHE EXHALES

So you're Tanya's grandmother.

Her mum died of cervical cancer when Tanya was five.

No-one knows where her dad is - which is a good thing.

Um, so she had her appendix out...

But she's not recovering properly, so we've been stuck here -

and now I'm dumped with some 12-year-old.

Well, luckily for you, I'm something of a child prodigy.

Go on, then.

So...

the appendix was removed successfully.

During the procedure, Mr Shah found a lump.

You mean, like cancer?

So they sent it for a biopsy.

And is it, or isn't it?

Yes. It's cancer. I'm sorry.

What sort?

Metastatic carcinoma.

I don't know what that means.

It's multiple tumours.

It's very unusual in someone Tanya's age.

I'm sorry I was rude.

It's not important.

But it's curable, yeah? Kids are good at getting better from cancer.

If it's an early diagnosis.

She's fitness mad. She's never ill - apart from this appendicitis.

We're going to do some tests

and then we can put together a treatment programme, OK?

How am I going to tell her?

Tell me what?

You need to be back in bed.

Tell me what?

So tell me.

You've heard of dark matter?

I think I've seen a documentary.

84% of the entire universe.

Mind-boggling.

We spend billions at Cern trying to work it out,

but the answer's right in front of us.

It is?

Who can tell me what percentage of the world's population

have a religious faith?

I'm guessing you can.

84%.

The same percentage as the dark matter.

That's what dark matter is!

What, God?

The universal consciousness!

Do you remember when you first acquired this understanding?

Absolutely. None of you have seen dark matter, right?

To the ordinary Tom, Dick or Brian Cox, it's completely invisible,

but August 12th, 2008, I'm in my mum's garden,

looking at shooting stars,

thinking about the infinite universe

and...wallop - it's there.

What is, exactly?

Glowing pillars of light, far as the eye can see.

I look down...

..and I'm glowing, too.

This message comes into my head - it tells me that I, Greg Evans,

am the sole manifestation of the fabric of God on earth.

So...it's pretty important that I stay on the ball at all times.

Tell me I'm wrong.

So will it go completely... Cold!

Sorry.

..or is it one of them cancers that keeps coming back?

Lift your arms for me.

I've been on the web.

-Is that sore?

-No.

Is this about what I think it is?

Listen to this...

"Most cancers place an applicant below the medical entry standard.

"Exceptions - some cancers in childhood or early adult life..."

She's got this mental idea about joining the Army.

That's...

-16 next year.

-..ambitious.

-You need my permission.

I'll be 18 by the time I get over this, so it won't be any of your business.

You've got cancer, Tanya!

Well, it can be good to have an objective...

It's not an objective. It's an actual thing I'm going to do.

-OK. Good.

-Don't encourage her!

When do we know whether I've got it early or not?

Have you lost any weight recently?

I train five days a week.

Night sweats?

No.

And when you go to the toilet - bowel movements with any blood on?

That's good, isn't it, Doc?

Well, we'll wait and see what the scans say

and then, hopefully, we'll get you fighting fit.

Or not.

Hello, Keller Ward.

Hi.

Well, you're in luck, cos he's just here. Hang on a second.

Dr Digby for Dr Digby.

Sorry, Morven.

-Yeah, yeah, I know.

-Says your mobile's not picking up.

I'll...call her back.

-He'll call you back.

-Digby. D-I-G-B-Y.

Arthur.

Holby City Hospital.

Well, as soon as possible, please. Thank you.

Dr Digby.

Tanya Gilmartin's scans.

Oh, dear. Multiple deposits.

With no obvious primary tumour.

Well, the oncologist will give the definitive opinion.

Talk with Mrs Gilmartin first?

It won't be an easy conversation to have.

Leave it with me.

Dr Digby, perhaps, er...

Actually, no. Not important.

HE COUGHS

Viral cardiomyopathy on EF at 15%.

And you'd suggest...?

Balloon pump.

That's not your "I heart balloon pump" face.

Ventricular assist?

The Kibo?

You don't "heart" Kibos?

Too much surgical trauma. But, hey, you're the boss.

What happened last week - I was just trying to be supportive.

Yes, your idea of what the right thing is - that is the problem.

Good intentions trump honest mistakes, surely!

No, not today. Balloon pump or Kibo?

Balloon pump is a good call. Is that HEARTY enough for you?

Pete!

Mrs Widdows?

Annette, please.

So he's going to need a bypass?

Dr March will go through the procedure.

They said something about how he'd been kept alive.

I'd like to thank the paramedics.

Actually, it was...

Annette?

This is Joanne. Um...

You're Joanne?

You knew?

A Messiah complex on its own

doesn't mean he lacks capacity to make a decision about treatment.

He's blocking a bed.

They may well re-evaluate if things get more serious.

There will come a time when his medical safety takes precedence.

Only if he loses capacity - and if that point comes, we'll

reassess, but until then, well, I'm sure you wouldn't want to play God.

Oops! Scratch that. You're a surgeon.

Below the belt.

Look into my eyes - not around the eyes - into the eyes - and tell me

that power, control, they aren't part of the thrill of surgery.

Careful, I might strike you down!

HE MAKES RASPING SOUND

That was a joke.

HE LAUGHS

Let me know if anything changes.

-Sorry.

-My fault.

If you insist.

One of us should say, "You don't have to be mad to work here, but..."

Please, don't.

She's actually quite fun when you get to know her.

I never followed her up for that date.

You think you've missed the boat?

Well, she never followed me up, either.

Well, are you going to ask her out on another date?

Ask me again when I've cleaned another nappy, helped Evie with her

homework, and convinced Mikey not to bunk off school.

Still haven't fixed it, then?

I knew he was seeing someone,

but somehow I imagined...

What? That I'd be a leggy 25-year-old?

Would you mind not doing that?

So how long have you known?

I found his other phone two years ago.

What? We're both grown-ups. We decided to...

-Well, you know the sort of arrangement.

-Yeah. He said...

Well, clearly neither of us knew him as well as we thought.

-I hope I never do that.

-What, cheat?

No. Stop caring.

I saw you and Zosia talking earlier.

It looked like a little bit more than medical chitchat.

What time is Pete Widdows booked in for his balloon pump?

3.30.

OK. Any chance of nabbing a CMR scan before then?

There's a slot in 20 minutes.

For what? What slot?

I...I wanted to reschedule the scan...

What is it about this you don't get?

-You're checking up on me!

-It's not about you.

No. It's about you.

-Everything all right, darling?

-Nothing YOU can't make worse.

Maybe best just to leave it, eh?

Yeah. Turning my back on her. That'll really work.

You're saying it's incurable?

That's not a word I like to use.

We're not telling Tanya.

Mrs Gilmartin?

Mrs Gilmartin...

She knows she's got cancer. That's enough.

So the treatment will be very challenging.

She might need additional surgery.

Right now, Tanya's confident she can get over it. That's what matters.

Keeping that positive attitude.

Something I can help with?

Um...

If she asks us a specific question, we have to tell her the truth.

I'm telling you not to.

And that means all of you.

I'd rather not lie to her.

Just miss out the bad bits.

I think what Dr Digby is saying...

Tanya looks tough but she's still a little girl who's lost her mum.

-She's 15.

-And she wants to join the Army

-because she thinks she has to prove how strong she is.

-Mrs Gilmartin...

So, yeah, I'm protecting her.

And God knows she doesn't always like it.

But if I don't, who will?

I honestly don't...

I promise you that we will take your feelings into account.

Won't we, Dr Digby?

Definitely.

Thank you.

'Raf?'

Maybe the bulb's gone.

'Have you seen Greg Evans?'

HE SIGHS

They should put a sign up - "Warning - Silverbacks Bitching".

Were they talking about me?

Yes, we're all talking about you.

-Seriously. Has Hanssen said anything?

-About what?

I heard him on the phone earlier. He was spelling out my name.

It sounded official.

Unh-unh. Birthday surprise?

Is he demonstrating poor clinical judgment?

No.

But he does have a difference of opinion with Mrs Gilmartin.

Yes, a reasonable one.

If Arthur were healthy, isn't it likely that one of us

would have taken over by now?

DOOR OPENS

I didn't hear you knock, Dr Digby.

That's cos I didn't.

Can we help you?

-Is this about me?

-Yes.

-No.

Tanya Gilmartin.

She could end up with a stoma.

She needs to know why.

Her grandmother expressly requested that you don't volunteer

information that might alarm her further.

Tanya's one ambition is to join the Army.

So if she's going to consent, she needs to be fully informed.

So you believe that destroying any possibility of her realising

that dream is going to help her through this, do you?

I know that if it were me...

But it isn't you, is it, Dr Digby?

SIREN

HE WHISTLES

He's on the roof!

Greg! Maybe take a step back, mate.

The world is a beautiful place.

You need to be back on the ward.

Aw, too noisy.

It's like radio interference.

Ooh! All right. Don't worry.

This is your body struggling to cope with so much blood loss.

-Got him?

-Yeah.

I know what you're trying to do.

I hold YOUR safety close to MY heart, too.

Listen.

Right, if you've really got 84% of the universe behind you,

shouldn't you be able to fix this one yourself?

It's not the way the universal consciousness works.

If you can't actually change anything,

then how do know that you're God?

I had a row with my dad, told him I wished he was dead.

Two hours later, he falls off a ladder.

Died on the way to hospital.

Well, that must be really upsetting.

It was.

Until I realised why it happened.

And then everything became clear.

You need this operation.

You haven't been listening, have you?

I wasn't convinced the balloon pump would do the job, but the CMR

shows the cardiac reserve to be within tolerable parameters.

So we're good to go?

Yes. Always worth checking. Until you're as good as me.

What?

Nothing.

I hope you gave Jac the same tongue-lashing that you gave me.

How do you know I didn't?

Because you're still alive.

OK, well...I'll let you off.

Just this once.

Thank you.

We've been dancing around each other all week.

You can't pretend that there isn't unfinished business.

Maybe we owe it to each other to have this conversation

when we're not trying to navigate a day in the NHS.

Like a peace conference.

Er, with a reasonably priced bottle of wine.

-Don't push your luck.

-A glass of wine?

A conversation...wouldn't be the worst idea in the world.

Um...I'm going.

OK, we'll keep you posted.

Actually...don't.

Well, we might need to contact you about your husband's treatment.

Yeah, well, I'm sure Joanne is around here somewhere...

with her knitting.

What you said about blood on my...thing.

Bowel movements.

I've had those sweats, too.

How long for?

Few weeks. A month.

OK, if we're going to get on top of this, then you have to be honest.

You have to tell me.

So what if...you get me through this,

but then the Army say I've had too much cancer to apply?

I don't know what the rules are.

I could still fight. Be a mercenary.

Or...

you could use your abilities in a different way.

So I'm into military history, but I don't want to hurt anybody.

What if I said you couldn't be a doctor?

I, er...

That's how I feel about the Army.

It's like...an escape.

From?

From being the kid whose mum's died.

That's really... That's crap.

You never said what was on those scans.

Hasn't he told you? It was really good news.

It's all stuff they can get rid of. Isn't it, Doc?

That's the plan.

Excuse me.

-You all right?

-Yeah, really good, thanks.

Arthur?

It's nothing. Just the meds.

Get off.

No, I'm not having you looking like a wino.

Don't, er, say anything to Morven.

Or Hanssen. Especially not to Hanssen.

Not even as pillow talk?

Do you really want to make yourself useful?

The gay doctor said there was a call for me.

That was a way of talking to you without unsettling Tanya.

Isn't that against the rules?

It's gay doctor rules, sorry.

I did say I couldn't lie to my patient.

You haven't, though.

No, but you have.

I didn't lie.

And I went along with it because arguing in front of a scared

15-year-old isn't what she needs right now.

Don't tell me what my granddaughter needs.

She's got sepsis, which looks like it'll need surgery.

But there's a blockage in her gut

which we can deal with at the same time.

Now, I'm going to do my best to reattach the healthy intestine,

but there is always a possibility we may need to fit a stoma.

What?

A bag.

No. No, she'll never agree to that.

-Well, we don't know until we ask her.

-I'll sign the consent.

No, I need to talk to Tanya about this.

Well, you can't. I won't let you.

Perhaps I can help, Mrs Gilmartin.

I don't want him frightening my granddaughter.

I'm just trying to explain that we need Tanya's informed consent.

I want him off Tanya's case.

There's an element of misunderstanding, I think.

No-one understands my granddaughter better than I do!

Well, it can be harder when you're very close to someone.

Oh, get real! I know you mean well. But you're a kid.

I've got nephews older than you.

Come back in a few years after you've lived a bit!

Dr Digby's age is not the issue.

No, this is about Tanya

and how joining the Army is the most important thing in her world...

-What, are you a psychiatrist now?

-..because she wants to be her own person.

You need to respect that, otherwise she's going to spend the rest of her illness resenting you

and that could turn into something you'll never be able to put right.

That's enough! Dr Digby, leave the ward, please.

Three hours later, the old man falls off a roof and dies.

That's why he thinks he's God.

You know, if we're going to try and take this all apart for Greg...

It'd be like tearing up the instructions and throwing away the Allen key.

Whatever. Just get him to sign that consent, yeah?

Morven, what do you think?

Do you think that Fletch likes her?

Well, I kind of got the impression

that Fletch wasn't ready for a relationship yet.

Yeah, yeah. Well, that's what he said.

Why? Are you...?

Me?! God, no!

-Life's too short, Raf.

-For what?

-Well, everything.

-That is such a cliche.

Oh, Morven, I am s...

No, it's OK. Don't worry about it.

-Brain damage?

-The thing is Mrs Widdows...

Well, she's gone.

What do you mean, she's gone?

Are you in touch with any of Pete's other relatives?

Ah!

Look, Doctor, I really don't think this is any of my responsibility.

I...I really don't.

Oh!

Cara! Hiya.

I forgot to say, but that came for you earlier on today.

-Oh.

-You haven't seen Arthur anywhere, have you?

I tried looking for him on Keller, but...

Er...no. Why? Problem?

Oh, you know, I just fancied a gossip with my husband.

Oooh! AAU gossip?

Oh, yeah, about that.

Raf has totally got the hots for this new psych,

but I've known pandas to get together quicker than Mr Di Lucca.

Really?

I'm so sorry! That was so tactless of me!

No. Definitely not.

Well, I'll put in an order for some bamboo shoots.

-Bamboo shoots?

-Pandas? Giant pandas?

Oh! Ho-ho-ho! Yeah, of course.

There's nothing you can say to me I haven't already said to myself.

And what would that be?

I've let you down, I've let the hospital down,

I've let myself down.

Like that balloon joke.

Balloon joke?

Doesn't matter.

Oh, yes, I've heard it, it's rather amusing.

Except when it rings true.

I'm not a great fan of self-pity.

Actually, Mr Hanssen, right now,

I reserve the right to feel sorry for myself.

-That's your prerogative.

-Thank you.

Have you finished?

Look, you told me to leave the ward, so I suppose I must be.

That is not what I meant, as you are very well aware.

And meanwhile, you have a patient

that still needs your professional attention.

-But Mrs Gilmartin...

-Is not your patient!

-You said...

-I just wanted to remove you from a volatile situation.

Perhaps you'd like to have another go.

Your career is not over yet.

-Yes, that is exactly what I've been trying to tell you!

-Dr Digby!

You're right.

Self-pity's rubbish.

A-huh!

If my Aunt Brigid was here, she would say,

"Look at those two, they don't spoil another pair".

-What does that mean?

-You belong together.

Well, we might be going for a drink together later, so...

Oh. I rest my case.

You're getting very chummy with...Joan of Arc.

-You jealous?

-SHE CHUCKLES

Yeah, pretty sexy, the whole martyr thing.

The repeat scan shows a lot of free fluid and dissention.

She's more distended and more septic.

Now, I presume you're taking this?

Actually...

Hi, Tanya.

Where've you been?

The old guy says I've got to have another op.

Sorry, yeah, we'll get you ready for theatre now.

What's he doing here?

I'll be leading the operation, but it makes sense for Dr Digby

to talk it through with your granddaughter.

-I said to get rid of him.

-What's going on?

I wasn't as polite to your grandmother as I should have been.

Why, what did you say?

You don't need to worry about it.

Come on, what did he say to you?

Perhaps now you understand

why Dr Digby counselled a more open approach.

Nan?

I wasn't up front with you about what we found on the scan.

There's more cancer than they thought.

Is it going to kill me?

We need to remove part of your intestine.

And you didn't tell me?

I told him not to say anything.

It'd make more sense to do it now before it causes any more problems.

Yeah. Get it out!

If we can't reattach the rest of the intestine,

we might have to fit you with a bag.

So, what, I was just supposed to wake up with one of them things?

-I thought you'd be frightened.

-Of course I'm frightened.

But if it's a choice between me dying or me having a bag,

it's not a choice, is it?

It's just something I've got to do.

Nan?

See you on the ice.

Still here?

I don't want to stereotype, but...look at her!

I really shouldn't comment.

At first, I thought, "Well, she's no competition." Huh!

-PAGER BEEPS

-But he's been seeing her for two years.

She's not just some bit on the side.

It's your husband.

MACHINES BEEP

Right, let's have a look at this bowel.

OK, I can't quite...

Stuck to the tumour masses, isn't it?

Keeping close to the bowel wall.

Hang on.

Maybe we could bypass the obstruction

with an ileocolic anastomosis.

Certainly worth attempting, yes.

Dr Digby?

All right to continue?

Bit warm.

All right. Somebody, please.

Thank you.

-Sorry!

-Apology not necessary, but, er...

close the tear straightaway, please.

Clamps, please.

Dr Digby?

Dr Digby?

Um...please, will you take over, Mr Hanssen?

Now, it takes great courage and maturity to know when to stop.

However, in this instance...

One more go.

-MACHINE BEEPS

-OK, charging at 150.

Stand clear. And shocking.

He's in VF. Page Dr March, please.

-Annette, you might want to wait outside.

-No. I...

Charging at 150 again.

Stand clear. And shocking.

-MACHINE BEEPS

-Sinus.

Right. We need to put the balloon pump on hold.

Let's run a swift TOE and if it says what I think it will,

I'm going with the Kibo. OK?

I...had some of his things in my car.

I'm going! I'm going.

SHE EXHALES

Look...

..I'm...I'm really glad he's still in the fight.

But, then, that's Pete, isn't it, all over?

Pig-headed, egotistical.

Loving playing two women off against each other.

A-hem!

Ah.

Excellently done.

I think I need to leave the theatre now, Mr Hanssen.

Well, you must do what do you think is right.

Right, so we'll bring out the stoma.

HE HYPERVENTILATES

Ow!

Bad day?

ARTHUR CHUCKLES

That's funny.

Arthur?

Bad day.

Are you feeling all right, mate?

But there isn't an endless supply of good days

where you can put everything right and make all your dreams come true.

Which makes the days we have all the more valuable.

Never forget that.

-WHISPERS:

-Morven? Morven?

-WHISPERS:

-Arthur?!

What are you doing in here?

Er...I wanted to catch you on your own.

I've been looking for you all day.

I know. I'm...I'm...I'm sorry.

Is something wrong?

I, um...I had to give up on an operation

because I lost the...

Well, the fine motor skills in my hands.

That'll just be the meds. Once they settle down...

Morven, ssh!

I can't...I can't operate any more.

You don't know that.

Ever since I was a kid... Well, from the moment I realised

I wasn't going to be a great military strategist,

all I ever wanted was to be a surgeon.

And you are.

I didn't quite make it, but...

..that's fine.

Look, let's not make this decision just yet.

Unless I want to kill somebody.

There have been moments, um...naming no names. Dominic Copeland.

You numpty.

Hm!

There's more things to being a doctor than just wielding a scalpel.

You know that, don't you?

Yes. Hanging on by my fingernails until they're prised off one by one.

No. Definitely not.

That's not how I want it to end.

-Dr Digby?

-I'm here.

-I'm just coming.

-That's you.

-Hm.

OK. Dissecting the axillary arteries.

-May I join you?

-Where've you been?

-I need a spare pair of hands for the graft.

-I apologise.

I wasn't expecting to be in the treatment suite until a little later on,

fitting an intra-aortic balloon pump.

-Well, I paged you.

-It's fine.

You got what you wanted in the end. All's well with the world.

Pete had another arrest. I ran a TOE,

but there wasn't enough cardiac capacity available

for the balloon pump to be effective.

I've seen the results. They're still borderline.

The balloon pump was never going to be a long-term solution.

MACHINE BEEPS

He's arresting.

We need to optimise the assist.

Wouldn't want to say I told you so, but, shucks, I just did.

As my junior colleague, I need you to respect my judgment

and work with me, not against me!

-Junior colleague?!

-What is going on?!

I had to go with the Kibo.

No, what is going on with my surgeons arguing

in front of the theatre team in the middle of surgery?

Get this sorted!

Any progress?

I understand this needs resolving,

but I can't sign him off on saying he's not capacitous. Sorry.

No, no, that's fine.

I-I mean, it's not fine, but it's semi-fine...ish.

Good.

Look, er...since you're here...

-Am I?

-What?

Ah! Huh! Existentialist comedy.

-I like it.

-Very good.

Did you need some change?

Well, that depends what you mean by change.

What conversation are we having exactly?

There is...there is something that I, er...

that I want to ask you. Huh!

In private.

What?

The thing you wanted to ask me?

Yes, er...

-I was wondering...if...

-Raf!

Er...can you give me a minute?

Trouble in paradise, mate.

I think he has a secondary bleed. He's going to lose consciousness.

Greg, it's my legal duty to act in your best interests.

I expressly forbid you

to give me a general anaesthetic.

There isn't another way to do this procedure.

-Help! Call the police!

-Calm, calm, calm.

-We need to sedate him!

-You're all in terrible danger!

-Wait!

-Nurse Fletcher, how busy are you?

-What?

When it comes to running things, you're the best there is, yeah?

Er...absolutely, yeah.

We don't have time for this!

I get in your heart of hearts, you know your beliefs to be true.

-At last!

-So, as God's manifestation on earth,

I was wondering if you might be able to delegate

some of your responsibility, just for a couple of hours?

To you?

I don't expect you to trust me, I'm a psychiatrist.

-But...what about Fletch?

-Fletch?

Er...you know, if it helps you get through the operation.

Listen, seriously, if even 1% of what you've said is true...

Greg?

-OK, yeah. Let's do it.

-Straight into theatre!

Page the anaesthetist.

Wait!

What now?

There! Can you feel it?

Well, I certainly feel something.

-Good luck.

-All right, let's go!

You're NOT the Messiah.

There you are. They're all up to date.

If there are any problems... Well, you know where to find me.

Sorry?

I've cleared it with HR.

Cleared what?

I'm resigning due to ill health.

As your consultant, I would have expected you

to have talked this through with me first.

And you'd have said lots of lovely, encouraging things...

And I would've meant every one of them.

Which is exactly why I didn't want to have to argue with you about it.

Hang on. Aren't you due in theatre with me tomorrow? The triple A...

Dom's free, so I've taken the liberty of...

Of course...Numpty.

I wish everyone would stop calling me Numpty.

Right, we're knocking off soon, so, um...drinks, cakes.

PHONE RINGS Excuse me. Hm!

Keller.

Um...if it's all the same to you, I, er...just...

Some of us...

..all of us...

..are really rather fond of you.

Speak for yourself(!)

-How many?

-You've made a considerable contribution to this hospital.

Hm! Oh, I don't know about that.

I never really got hold of the whole arrogant, power-crazed despot thing.

Well, I'm sure some private tuition could be arranged.

Um...coach crash on the bypass.

Ruptured spleen in the lift and ED are sending two more up now.

I've got this.

OK, we're going to deal with this

and then we're going to hand over, so...

So, what am I meant to do without you?

-Find someone else to take the...

-Hm!

There is no-one so brilliantly gullible

and so ripe for ritual humiliation.

I'm going to miss you.

-Dr Copeland!

-Go on, go, go, go!

If this isn't about work, I...

Jac told us to get this sorted.

OK. It's over. There. Tick.

Has it occurred to you that someone maybe actually loves you?

-Someone?

-I love you!

I made a mistake. I'll do anything to fix it.

Maybe I don't want you to fix it!

It might be possible to do some reconstruction

further down the line.

I know what's going to happen.

Well, not for a while yet. Um...

I wondered if you'd ever thought about

doing some shooting competitively.

I could offer myself as target practice.

Tanya, that's not funny.

Actually, it is quite.

Um...it's, er...Arthur, isn't it?

Yes, yeah.

I know I'm a stubborn old cow,

but I've met a lot of doctors.

You're going to be a brilliant doctor when you grow up.

WHISPERS: Thank you.

How's the divine mantle?

Unable to stop a coach crash on the bypass. It's fine.

Greg's not out of theatre, then?

No. Um...look, um...Naomi, the, er...

..the asking-you-out-for-a-drink thing.

I-I know it's been a while, but, um...

Spleen all fixed.

Although why you couldn't just fix him with a click of your fingers...

Oh, I'm sorry. Am I interrupting something?

Um...it was, er...nothing.

Nothing?

We'll, er...talk about it later.

No, no, come on, mate, get your thunderbolt out.

And thou shalt have no other gods but Fletch(!)

I propose tomorrow evening, if for no other reason than to shut him up.

And I'll look after the kids. Least I can do.

Well, er...thanks, mate. And, er...I owe you one. Huh!

-WHISPERS:

-Thank you.

So I'm looking at caring for someone I...

I don't know what I feel about any more.

Means he's got through the next few days. That's a good thing, isn't it?

As long as you're not the one wiping his backside?

You don't know, I might be.

I need a drink.

I didn't have you down as the need-a-drink type.

Oh, yeah, I'm definitely crazy like that.

CARA CHUCKLES

Zoshy?

Dad, do you have to?

I haven't said anything yet.

"Oh, Zoshy, darling, have you really thought this through?

"Ollie isn't my cup of cappuccino,

"but he's an intelligent, honest, caring man who loves you."

Listen, sweetheart...

"I get that you feel betrayed,

"but even I can see that he wasn't acting maliciously."

"Don't let the chance of finding real happiness with someone

"slip away because you are too pig-headed to back down!"

If I know Valentine, he'll be waiting for you.

Just a small white wine, please.

Er...no, scratch that. Let's have, um...

..a couple of those, and tequila? Tequila.

-Really?

-Yep. If you don't want them, I will.

Better than knocking your head against a wall all day.

You know what? I've got something to celebrate today, too.

Why not?

Doesn't sound like your party voice.

Well, I've been offered a job. In Belfast.

Offered?

Yeah. I don't know what I'm going to do.

There's a lot going on here, you know?

Yeah.

Slainte.

Yeah, that.

If you're going to try and change my mind...

That would be most disrespectful.

You knew, didn't you?

I beg your pardon?

This morning, you knew I wouldn't make it through the day.

Today has been precisely what it needed to be.

You've conducted yourself admirably

under very challenging circumstances.

I've loved every single minute of working here.

I know.

-There we go.

-Thanks.

-RAF SIGHS

-Here.

Do you mind?

Well, we are all still here,

so I reckon Nurse Fletcher has done a very good job.

I never said there would definitely be an existential catastrophe.

I mean, the Middle East's still a bit of a mess.

Oh, and there's all those refugees and the coach crashes.

It's not for me or Nurse Fletcher

to solve everyone's problems.

Every man has to...make his own future.

MUSIC: Head Over Heels by Tears for Fears

POUNDING HEARTBEAT

Huh!

HE CHUCKLES AND SOBS

HE SNIFFS

These are the last ones.

Mm.

You're right. I am...sad.

You are...drunk.

No. You are very serious.

And...it makes me laugh.

That's actually very rude.

I'll miss you.

I don't even know if I'm going yet.

-Sorry.

-Not a good idea.

My dad said you'd be waiting for me.

-Zosia. That...

-Wasn't what it looked like?

Absolutely not.

Not such a martyr after all.

See, it felt like that if something bad had actually happened,

it would've been my fault. Heh-heh-heh!

-Dr March.

-You just got blanked. Oooh!

-Zosia! Please, just hear me out!

-It's not like we're attached!

If you want to snog Cara Martinez in front of everyone,

then I'm happy for you. Genuinely. Have a great night!

You...!

Cara and Oliver Valentine.

-FLETCH SIGHS

-Um... Hm. Different bar?

Yeah, different bar.

Hello, you.

-Hiya.

-Hey!

What's that?

Er...

Love.

What are you talking about?

I'm being enigmatic.

If you've got a terminal illness, that's what you do.

You're such a numpty.

Come on, then, Dr Digby, take me home.