Bonnie Sveen Fan, thank you for your review. I've always loved Connie's softer side, but it's so rare to see it. I think now, she's completely switched off from work and all we're seeing is Connie the human being. It's horrible seeing her so unhappy, but at the same time, I do love this Connie!
westlife4ever80, don't worry - you can't help being busy. I'm really happy and grateful you're still finding the time to read and review this story. Luckily, Connie can see there's a genuine problem, rather than just Cal being difficult again! But a lot of bosses don't care and just see it as an annoyance. Connie expects professionalism, but she doesn't expect Cal to be superhuman. Thank you for your review.
Guest, thank you for your review. I don't want to give too much away, but it's definitely not my intention for my story to have a sad ending! I was disappointed that Max didn't leave with Zoe (though I'd have liked it even better if he'd convinced Zoe to stay).
Tanith Panic, some of my favourite episodes are the ones where Ethan suffers, but I'm definitely not sitting there smiling as I watch! The English language does fall a bit short when it comes to our feelings about a sad story. I really am happy you were gripped and that you enjoyed Zoe and Dylan. Thank you for your review.
X-Sammii-X, I think Connie can be wonderful with patients and relatives. She wants everything to be done in the right way because she has to consider the hospital as well as Ethan, but she does care about her colleagues. Zoe and Dylan do have a great friendship - I think she'd take a lot more criticism from Dylan than everyone else! Thank you for your review.
LoveFiction2016, yes, Zoe and Dylan have broken up now, so Dylan is free to make his move on Angela. I'm sorry it wasn't clear. Thank you for your review.
Ezeiel, thank you for your review. I'm so happy you enjoyed it. I'm sorry Ethan is making you feel sad! I don't think he actually cries in this chapter and he isn't in the next one at all, so I hope you won't feel quite as sad. I'm glad Zoe isn't completely loathsome. I like Zoe, but she's not short of flaws and she's made some big mistakes.
Cal really couldn't be bothered today.
Everyone he saw seemed to be a time-waster. He'd lost count of the number of times he'd had to say: "No: all your tests have come back clear," and "You really should have gone to your GP about this, you know."
He did have a certain amount of sympathy with the GP situation as they would probably have to have waited three weeks for a normal appointment, but they could have asked for an emergency appointment. Cal had managed to make one for Ethan easily enough.
He sighed and went to see his next patient, who'd presented with suicidal feelings. "Hi. It's James, isn't it? I'm Dr Knight. And you're having thoughts of suicide."
James nodded. "Yeah, and they just aren't going away. Every minute, they're in my head. Buzzing away by little flies. I would say they were driving me mad if I wasn't convinced I'd reached that stage years ago."
Cal stared at him. How could a suicidal person be making jokes? Ethan could hardly even smile, and even when he did, it wasn't genuine. "Have you acted on these thoughts at all?"
"Not this time; not so far," said James. "But a couple of times in the past, I have given into it and got myself into a pretty bad state. So I thought the best thing to do would be to come and see you before I caused myself a serious injury."
"Look, we are here to treat injuries and illness, you know," said Cal. "If you cut yourself or took an overdose, we can sort this out. What do you expect us to do for you now?"
James shrugged. "Make me feel better, I suppose. Listen, it doesn't make much sense to me either. All I know is I phoned the mental health team and they told me to come here. So here I am!"
He smiled. He actually smiled. And he was speaking to fluently and clearly and logically, while Ethan was struggling to produce every word.
Ethan needed to be able to make a phone call to assess whether he required medical appointment and this guy was just expected to walk in and ask for it?
"Okay," said Cal. "I can understand that you're concerned and I realise you're only following instructions. But you must see there can't be too much wrong. I mean, you were able to make a phone call to ask for help; listen to the instructions you were given and understand them; get yourself all the way over to the hospital without making any kind of attempt on the way; explain clearly why you're here and even make jokes about it. I really don't see what we can do and in the meantime, you've wasted time while genuinely injured and unwell people are sitting out in that waiting room, waiting."
James stared at him. The colour started to drain from his face. "So, that's what you think. That I'm wasting your time."
"As I said, I can't blame you for doing what the mental health team tell you to do, but basically, yes!" said Cal.
"Right," said James, getting to his feet. "I won't waste any more of your time."
"Thanks, James," said Cal. "I'm glad you understand. But while this isn't in any sense an emergency, I do get that you're not feeling great and I genuinely hope you feel better soon."
James walked out without acknowledging his words.
Cal didn't mind. Considering he'd just been told he was a time-waster, James had taken the news rather well.
Dylan was just leaving a cubicle when someone rushed past him.
He didn't seem aware of Dylan's presence at all. He ran so close to him, he knocked the file out of Dylan's hands and didn't seem to hear his shout of annoyance.
Dylan bent to pick up the file, hearing more shouts from colleagues, requesting the running person to stop, but they weren't able to catch him. As he reached the lift, he hurled himself through the rapidly-closing doors and Dylan heard the sound of the lift moving upwards.
He didn't think too much more about it. He thought the behaviour was bizarre, but it really was none of his concern and he wouldn't be the first visitor to the ED to run to the lift – he'd probably been told that the person he'd been visiting was in surgery, so he'd hurried upstairs to find them.
He jumped as a hand touch his arm. "Ready for a break, Dylan?" said Zoe.
"If you mean am I ready to pass a few minutes in the company of a friend, then yes," said Dylan. "If you expect me to stand beside you, polluting my lungs while you desperately try to get the attention of another man, the answer is no."
Zoe sighed. "Relax, Dylan. I have no idea if Max is even out there."
"But I imagine you do have some interest in finding out," said Dylan.
A slight smile appeared on Zoe's face. "Would you believe me if I said I don't care one way or the other?"
"No."
Zoe laughed. "Fair enough. But I would like a break whether Max is there or not and I'd love to spend it in the company of one of my best friends…"
Dylan relented. Zoe as a girlfriend was terrifying, but there was something irresistible as Zoe as a friend. "All right."
Zoe was smiling as they left the ED together. She stopped smiling as Louise ran towards them, panic on her face. "Zoe, Dylan, there's someone on the roof!"
Phone call. Phone call.
Was he supposed to be making a phone call?
The thought swirled in Ethan's head. He didn't think it would be there unless there was a reason for it, but he couldn't remember who he was supposed to be phoning. After a moment or two of confusion, he remembered he had a mobile phone and that there might be a clue on there somewhere. He even knew the phone was likely to be on his bedside table, but he couldn't remember how to get it. He knew the phone went against his ear and he spoke into it, but he couldn't remember how it got there.
That was wrong. Ethan was sure he used phones all the time. How could he have forgotten that?
He closed his eyes and tried to imagine using his phone. A picture finally came into his mind: he held the phone against his ear with his hand. So he probably picked up the phone from his bedside table with his hand.
Ethan tried to move his hand, but it was difficult. He knew that there were two groups of motor neurones in his brain, the pyramidal and extrapyramidal tracts, which were responsible for sending the signals for his hand to move. The pyramidal tracts were the ones he'd mainly be using in this instance as his hand movement would be voluntary, though the extrapyramidal tract would help with co-ordination and fine movement, ensuring he was able to move his hand to the right place and pick up the phone.
Not that his extrapyramidal tract would be able to help at all in that regard for too much longer. In a few years, he'd do well even to knock the phone off his bedside table because at least then he'd have moved his hand in the right direction.
Ethan lifted his hand, but it felt so heavy. He let it flop back onto the bed.
Why was picking up his phone so hard?
He was useless. Completely and utterly useless and his symptoms might not even have started.
He really would be better off dead.
Dylan burst out of the lift and ran to the door leading to the roof. He wasn't quite sure why he was the one doing this. Whoever the person on the roof was, Dylan doubted he was one of his patients. Two of his current patients were unable to walk. Another he knew for a fact to have a severe fear of lifts, while the fourth was female. Louise was sure the person on the roof was a man.
Dylan arrived on the roof. The man was standing close to the edge, looking down. Even from a distance, Dylan could see he was trembling hard. Even if he had no intention of jumping, falling was a real possibility.
He walked slowly towards him. He knew that any sudden, unexpected noise would startle the man, yet Dylan knew he had no choice. He would have to speak to him and that would startle him.
Why am I even doing this anyway? thought Dylan. He wasn't exactly known for his sensitivity, yet he, and not Zoe, was the one on the roof.
"Hello," said Dylan. "I'm Dr Keogh. I … er… I very strongly advise against jumping."
His heart thudded in fear as the man swung to face him, the movement sending him slightly off balance, but he didn't fall. "What do you care?"
"Well, I don't particularly want to have to scrape up your remains from the car park," said Dylan.
The man looked at him a bit blankly.
Dylan thought that was just as well. His comment probably had been a bit insensitive. "I also don't want a waiting room full of hysterical people who saw you jump."
"So it's all about you?" said the man, but not aggressively. "Because you're more important than me?"
"To be quite honest, at this moment in time, yes," said Dylan. "There are people here who need their lives saved - including you - and I'm one of the relatively small number of people who actually knows how to do it."
The man was silent for a moment. "I wanted to be a doctor."
"Then unless you think heaven has its own medical school, in which case I'm not allowed to comment as you're entitled to your beliefs, your chances of becoming a doctor will be absolutely zero if you throw yourself off this roof and die," said Dylan.
"But no-one cares. No-one wanted me to be a doctor."
"No-one wanted me to be a doctor either," said Dylan. "But I still became one. I don't care what anyone else thinks. You shouldn't either. This is about you, not them."
There was a surprised silence. "Aren't you going to tell me my family love me and they'd be devastated if they lost me?"
"How can I possibly know what your family think?" said Dylan. "From what you've said, they didn't care enough to support your medical ambitions so there is a chance they don't love you."
The man turned to face Dylan. "You listened then. You listened to what I said. You didn't come out with the usual rubbish. You didn't go on like you know my family better than I do."
"It is possible to misinterpret other people's feelings," said Dylan. "But it's also possible that you're completely right. Some families aren't supportive. But that doesn't mean you're not worth supporting. It might mean their support isn't worth having. So why not come with me and I'll try to help."