AN: If you get the show they're talking about, then you get the title... and if not, the title should still make sense.
I rewatched series 2 recently and was struck by how few Dr. Turner's interactions were with Sister Bernadette - what little they had were all broad but so specific. Hopefully I can hint at the same beats without mimicking them completely.
"Jenny Lee - are you still in last night's clothes?!" Trixie Franklin teases loud enough for the changing room filled for the morning shift to hear and erupt in jeers and claps and laughs. "I am afraid I don't know what you mean Trixie!" Jenny huffs, shedding her clothes as quickly as she can.
"And are you saying you don't know what I mean if I mention you've got a little love bite right there?" Trixie points to the side of her neck. If possible, the room erupts into louder laughter.
"Don't worry, Jen, I've some concealer that'll fix that right up." Chummy offers, using her sizeable height to block the woman from some of the unwanted attention.
"Thanks Chummy." She mumbles, blushing red.
"Don't worry, this is still nothing compared to the ribbing I once got at school. They hung pregnancy tests from my locker and called me Chummy the Mummy for the year."
"That doesn't sound like ribbing Chum." Trixie interrupts, "That just sounds like outright cruelty."
"And you would know." Jenny sticks her tongue out at the blonde nurse as she slips into her scrubs.
"We're your friends Jen. We're just happy for you that the drought's over. If not for your sake, then for our purely selfish reasons. Two years of celibacy really is, well…" She searches for the right analogy for something so horrifying.
"Two years too long?" Dr. Mount offers from the other side of the room.
"Yes. Can you imagine?"
"It's not exactly a fate worse than death, Nurse Franklin." Sister Bernadette offers, fighting the smirk that's spreading across her face. "Some of us have been known to survive."
"Thank you, Sister." Jenny offers, thankful for the support.
"That said, on behalf of your co-workers and your patients, we're all very happy for the end of the end of your hardship." She teases, ducking to avoid the shirt Jenny launched firmly at her.
"Sister Bernadette's got jokes!" One of the nurses teases.
"Does she now?" Sister Evangelina barks, eyeing her sister as she enters the room to interrupt the cheer in the room. "Love to hear them some time Sister. Those of you starting morning shift, be quick about it, patients are waiting out there. Those of you who have finished, decent job, you've all earned your rest." She starts to leave the room before turning around again, "And Nurse Brown, please put your police escort out of his misery. He's been pacing outside waiting for you for the last 30 minutes."
And with that, the room erupts in another round of cheers.
Sister Bernadette uses the cover of this new round of hazing to escape the change room and slip into the hall where indeed there was a slight but sweet looking policeman who had the familiar look of being up all night, carrying two cups of coffee. He looks up at her, briefly and with hope in his eyes before smiling politely and continuing to pace around. It was quite obvious he had eyes for only one woman. A feeling, unnamed and unknown fills her with emptiness for a moment and when she turns away from it, she lands squarely against Dr. Turner who's arms instantly go out to steady her "Oooh - Sister, sorry, I didn't see you."
"I'm sorry Doctor, I should pay attention where I'm going."
They stand there for what feels like a moment, but could've only been a matter of seconds, before Sister Evangelina interrupts them, "Dr. Turner, if you're done bulldozing the nurses, may I speak to Sister Bernadette for a moment?"
"Ah, yes. I'm sorry." He smiles at her before dropping his arms, "See you in surgery, Sister."
"Sister, I feel I need to talk to you in regards to your insistence on changing with the nurses," Sister Evangelina begins, pulling her out of her joyful mood, pleased to be on the surgery rotation, to have had a moment with the other nurses where she was one of them, not separate. "I know you say it's because you don't want them to feel as if we are different then they are, but we are. When you're making jokes on what I suspect are inappropriate topics, it will only confuse them in terms of who we are and what we stand for. Remember that - remember what you are, Sister Bernadette and who you are."
It's these very words that linger in her mind now and for the rest of the rest of the day. Who is she, and more importantly, what is she? A woman in her early 30s. With a sense of humour and compassion. Equal parts shy and bold. A woman. A nurse. A nun. Was this all that she boiled down to? A handful of generic qualifiers, most of which would apply to every other woman in the building and in the city?
She stops her thoughts, earmarking them for a time when she has for indulgences like this. Now is not the time - with an hour before the surgery to review the case notes - it's not a luxury they have often and she will take advantage of it. Omphalocele repair on 2 week old Julie Walker (she offers a silent prayer). While not an inconsequential surgery, it is, nonetheless, one with some odds. Feeling ready, she dons her gown, scrubs up and enters the surgery where she's cheerfully greeted by Trixie Franklin preparing their OR, "Hello Sister!"
"Nurse Franklin - new rotation for you?"
"Yes, Dr. Turner is aiding my escape from A&E, fantastic, isn't it? I hope you don't mind, I was eager to-" She continues talking but Sister Bernadette pauses to take a deep breath, to examine the sudden twist of pain somewhere between her belly and her lungs. She breathes it out. She lets Trixie continue to talk as together they continue their tasks, getting the room and their tools ready.
Soon conversation fills the room as Dr. Turner walks in with Dr. Busby, the new anaesthesiologist from St. John's. Formal introductions are made, but it's clear everyone knows each other outside of Sister Bernadette, though the connection seems loose and vague. The doctors review their own stations before discussing the challenges - with patients so young and so vulnerable, the challenges are almost too many, but Dr. Turner seems to trust Dr, Busby and that will have to be enough. It's this moment before the arrival of the patient that she finds the most nerve wracking, where you're free to think of everything that could go wrong, that should and would go wrong. It's this moment where prayer never seems to be enough to push the dread out of her body or her mind. Once surgery began, those thoughts tended to evaporate, but here in the calm of the room, with the quiet rush of clean air being pushed in, the hum of the lights, where the energy hovered like low level clouds - "I know!" Dr. Turner remarks, clapping his hands together sharply, "Music - that's what we've forgotten. What do you say to Nurses' choice for this one?" He smiles towards them as Trixie rushes to the station, already pressing buttons on the device before Sister Bernadette can say anything. "If it's alright, I took the liberty - Jenny Lee had told me that Sister, you can't really listen and Dr. Turner never cares…" She tries not to wince at the harshness of the words, it's not that she can't so much as she shouldn't… She notices another sad sort of half-smile offered up in her general direction and she shrugs. She can hear the roll of the cart down the hall and she goes to stand by the door, watching for their patient. Eventually baby Walker arrives, escorted by the orderly and Nurse Miller, who runs a light finger down baby Walker's face before Sister Bernadette gingerly picks their patient up and brings her to the room.
"Hello little one." Dr. Turner whispers as an introduction, watching The Sister cradle her. "Hello friend!" Dr. Busby greets their patient cheerfully, her hands gentle as she makes final adjustments to her equipment as Sister Bernadette and Trixie hold down their patient and then lowers the plunger releasing the first of the anaesthesia.
And with that, the surgery itself begins.
Omphalocele repair is corrective surgery to repair birth defects in the abdomen wall which allowed parts of the liver and small & large intestines to be exposed. The work, like all of theirs, is delicate, requiring skill and a light touch. It requires the surgical team to work as one cohesive unit - it is unkind, Sister Bernadette knows, but she is constantly surprised by the transformation of Trixie between the jovial, brash person she is outside and the serious, skilled nurse she is for her patients. Perhaps that's what Dr. Turner saw in her when he helped her shift her rotations from A&E to surgical?
They work quickly, efficiently, as they graft and patch baby Walker's belly. It's not until they near the end, where they begin ending the procedure does the tension disperse to something more buoyant, more joyful. When surrounded by death - it's all they can do to find the light. Perhaps it's this lighter mood that has overtaken the room as Dr. Busby begins to mumble along to the music, the words hidden by her accent and her surgical mask "Sorry," She mumbles, catching herself sheepishly, "It's just one of those song, you know?"
"I know, I can't hear it without thinking of Yang leaving, you know?" Trixie asks as she takes the tools from Dr. Turner's hands, leaving Sister Bernadette to dress the wound.
"Spoilers!" He chastises, his eyes clearly smiling over his surgical mask. "Some of us are still on series eight."
"I feel like the spoilers rule is null and void after oh, three years." Dr. Busby chimes in as she strips off her gloves.
"Yes, well, life somehow gets in the way. It feels wrong to watch without Sarah." He steps back and removes his own gloves, watching Sister Bernadette's hands as she finishes her careful dressing of the wounds. "I used to give her such grief about it…Anyways, good job everyone - I think we have a truly cracker team here. Nurse Franklin, I hope you won't be opposed to more shifts with us."
"On the contrary Doctor. I'd love it."
"Excellent, excellent! Well, I'm going to grab a cup of lukewarm tea and begin my rounds. Ladies!" He nods towards them, and gently taps baby Walker's hand with his before leaving the OR.
They all split up from the OR. It's a quiet surgical day for neonatal, so Trixie is returned to A&E happier than she's been in a while, with Sister Bernadette and Dr. Turner doing their rounds and routines. They continue their day until it's time to retire to the change room that night, where the mood is quieter, it's mid-week, and exhaustion is high amongst the staff. In the quiet, Sister Bernadette can hear chatter on the other side of the locker:
"So Sarah's his wife? Did she leave?"
"No, she died. Three years ago? From what I heard though, she was sick for so long before that."
"Oh, how awful - just him and his son?"
"Isn't it just? I don't know how he does it, I mean, he does the best he can but still…You can tell they're lacking a woman's touch. Mismatched socks, mis-buttoned shirts, and those clothes… I've half the nerve to offer to take him shopping myself, especially if it gets me out of A&E."
"Ugh - don't mention that to Pats, she keeps suggesting we go shopping for new clothes for me… I suspect she's doing the same"
There's the matching slam of locker doors and the conversation moves away so she can't hear. It doesn't mean she can't feel her heart racing and her cheeks redden at the thought of anyone speaking so…no, not unkindly, but so casually of a man as good and as devoted as Dr. Turner. She hurriedly changes out of her scrubs and into her lay clothes. She'll have to hurry if she's to get back in time for Compline.
Perhaps tomorrow she will heed her fellow Sister's guidance and begin changing with the other Sisters.
