Original subtitles

Theatre in ten minutes.

(BELL TOLLS)

(DOOR HANDLE TURNS)

-Good morning, Sister Russell. -Good morning, Matron.

-You should take all this in your stride. -I'll do my very best.

MAN 1: "Day after day, day after day

"We stuck, nor breath nor motion

"As idle as a painted ship, upon a painted ocean

"Water, water, everywhere And all the boards did shrink"

"Water, water, everywhere Nor any drop to drink."

MAN 2: Enough.

I'm thirsty.

(HE PANTS)

"Water, water, everywhere."

Ladies and gentlemen, you will all be seen.

We must have order according to clinical urgency.

-Medical cases over chronic. -"Water, water, everywhere..."

-Next. -"and all the boards did shrink."

SISTER RUSSELL: Next.

Sickness?

Take a seat, the doctor will be with you shortly.

NURSE: Next, please.

Queue three, examination room two, non-urgent.

Sickness or injury? Which is it?

-It's me brother's arm, miss. -What's the matter with it?

I can't feel it.

(SHE SOBS)

Doctor, it's no good!

What's no good?

Gin, or falling in St Katharine's Dock,

having drunk too much of it?

-My life! -Ah.

I felt the same when I watched England go down 9-3 against Australia

at Blackheath on Saturday.

Bandage.

-(WOMAN SOBS) -Thank you, Nurse.

-Are you still doing this? -Mrs Anderson toppled into the Thames.

Cleaning the wound of the mud was itself a major operation.

Dr Ingrams, I could have reset all ten in the time it's taken you to address this one.

-Were you at the rugby on Saturday? -No, I was working

Nurse Bennett, would you come with me, please?

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

It's no good, Doctor, it's no good.

There, there.

I have been profoundly impressed by the way stovaine seems to have abolished

the condition of surgical shock,

in a way that chloroform and ether does not.

Now, for those of you familiar with testicles but unfamiliar with carcinoma,

feast your neophyte eyes!

How is your tea, Mr Lawrence? Not too hot?

Perfect brew, Doctor. Just right.

Observe how the possibility of surgical shock,

which was previously common in abdominal surgery,

has been all but eliminated by the use of stovaine anaesthesia via lumber injection.

And thus... scalpel, please.

..we can relieve Mr Lawrence of his carcinoma

with a little more physiological distress

or personal discomfort than, say

-clipping his toenails. -(STUDENTS CHUCKLE)

You've given Mrs Anderson a change of clothes, I see.

-Yes, Sister. -And hot coffee.

Now here are two half-crowns from the Christmas fund.

Oh, I can't thank you enough, truly...

Thank the kind soul who donated this by spending it

on health-giving provisions, Mrs Anderson.

-Not gin. -The Lord be my witness

I shall, Sister. I shall.

MAN: Assistance!

(WOMAN MOANS)

A cabbie dropped her off outside, Sister.

Said she'd taken drain cleaner.

-(WOMAN RETCHES AND MOANS) -Gently.

Feel that?

Can you remember the last time you felt anything in your arm

or in your hand and fingers, Joe?

About a week ago. (KNOCK AT DOOR)

Dr Culpin, there's an emergency.

Take precise details

and make an appointment for Joe to see Dr Head in Neurology.

I understand.

What's wrong with him, Miss?

Well, I think it's...

That's what the doctor is going to find out.

(WOMAN SHRIEKS)

Prepare a treatment of diluted lemon juice. One ounce juice to five ounces water

-Yes, doctor. -And some olive oil to bathe her stomach.

She's hot. Has she vomited?

-Not since admission. -Let's try and keep it that way.

Her oesophagus will be burnt from the ingestion of the caustic soda.

Er, flush the scalds around her mouth with sterilised water,

though I suspect they'll prove the least of her woes.

Doctor, if she took soda she obviously...

Our job is to try and save her life, Sister Russell,

not speculate on why she may have tried to end it.

Nurse Goodley?

Any discomfort from the operation or the catheter, Mr Lawrence?

No, I can't feel a toffee.

-Mr Dean is one of the best. -Bed number three, please, Porter.

Mr Dean even had one of his students trim my toenails.

(SPEAKS FOREIGN LANGUAGE)

Excuse me.

(HE GASPS) My head is killing me.

Probationer, will you fetch an ice-cap for Mr Stoll?

Danke.

(SPEAKING FOREIGN LANGUAGE)

Will her stomach recover?

Yes. A full or partial recovery is to be expected,

though strictures are a distinct possibility.

(DOOR OPENS)

Now, we invert the funnel and...

We do this why?

-To carefully siphon out the stomach's contents. -Precisely.

(WOMAN RETCHES)

-Matron would like to see you, Nurse Bennett, in her office. -Why?

No doubt Miss Luckes will explain everything.

She must have indicated why I'm being summoned.

She didn't, but do you know why?

-No. -Ada.

I swear, Ethel.

Sister?

(KNOCK ON DOOR)

Who is it?

Nurse Bennett.

Take a seat.

May I ask who reported it?

-The cabbie who brought her in. -Christian fellow, no doubt(!)

We don't make the law, Sister, we're simply charged with upholding it.

The ingestion of caustic soda is not of itself proof of attempted suicide.

You know as well as I do,

the only people who knowingly take it are those who seek to kill themselves.

Which is against the law.

I do respect your position.

I'm asking you to understand mine.

May I ask if my work has been found wanting in any way?

No, on the contrary,

the daily reports I receive from Sister Russell

show you to be a great asset to the receiving room.

Then I'm afraid I don't und...

It's my understanding that it's the nurses who struggle on the wards

who are traditionally put out to private nursing.

The London has many patients, rich and poor.

Don't they all deserve to be cared for by our best staff?

Yes, but with all due respect,

my place is in the receiving room.

Nurse Bennett, your place is wherever I say it is. Do I make myself clear?

Yes, Matron.

Details of the location and nature of your first four patients

with letters of introduction to each.

Now finish your day in the receiving room,

and start your first appointment at 8 am tomorrow.

"The Reverend J Edwards of Tutting...

"Condition...haemorrhoids."

Remember to warm your hands.

(KNOCK ON DOOR)

(DOOR OPENS)

Oh, come on.

Come on! This is the last thing this woman needs.

I'm arresting you on suspicion of attempted suicide

and ask you to accompany me to the station.

-She's in no fit condition to accompany you anywhere. -If she can walk,

she can walk with me.

Up you get, miss. Come on.

There we go.

Mind your feet. Come on.

-I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I can't allow this. -Dr Culpin?

Please move out of the way, Doctor.

Oh come on, man, come on. You could caution her here now

and no-one would be any the wiser.

-But the law would be poorer for me turning a blind eye. -You really believe that?

-Please, step aside. -It's immoral.

I'm a policeman, not a philosopher.

Dr Culpin, there's nothing we can do.

Thank you, Sister.

Good day, Doctor.

Dammit!

How was he overnight?

-He woke four times, crying. -Poor lad.

Chronic empyema, gentlemen.

From the Greek...

"Empyein", meaning suppurating or pus-producing.

In this case from a tubercular abscess.

-Treatment? -Surgery?

Surgery, question mark.

Presumably you would hand a broken timepiece to a clockmaker,

with the similarly detailed instruction, "fix it".

Ah, how are your young blades today, Henry?

Sharp. Could be sharper.

Indeed.

We can all always be sharper, gentlemen. Thank you, Sister.

Knowledge is the ever-expanding horizon. Learning..

..is our endless march towards it. Come!

And how are we today, Mr Stoll?

Better, I think, Doctor.

Good. That's what we like to hear. Any discomfort?

No. Only with the headache.

Persistent or does it come and go?

They come and go. Persistently.

Mr Stoll has complained of severe headaches

since the stovaine wore off, Mr Dean.

How severe, Mr Stoll?

I don't like to kvetch,

but, um,

it is like a Messer, a knife, being slowly twisted in my brain.

Their intensity doesn't appear to be weakening.

How do you find the ice-cap?

Cold.

-But does it bring any relief? -Not so much as I like.

Well, keep with the cap for now.

And give additional pain relief if required.

Yes, Doctor.

Your headaches will pass as you regain strength, Mr Stoll.

Danke, Herr Doctor.

-Doctor? -Mr. Lawrence?

I was just wondering...

When will I regain the feeling in my legs?

It's not a democracy, but a hypocrisy,

a hypocrisy not democracy or theocracy or meritocracy

because the lamb, the lamb would never lie down with the...

Rrrrr!

The lamb will never lie down with the lion because the lion will eat...

-The lion will eat everything... -Daniel, please, shh.

Sickness or injury?

Am I sick or injured, injured or sick? We don't know.

Cos the powers that be are all-powerful, and they know everything.

They know everything. They know who I am and where I am and where you are, Sister.

Where are you, Sister? Be in my arms, Sister. Be in my arms!

Please, please, my son is perfectly harmless but I can't stop him.

On and on like this, day and night.

Sleep! Perchance to dream. Do you know Shakespeare, Sister?

Do you know of Shakespeare's sister, Sister?

Take him directly to the ward, make a note of his admission when you return.

Come along.

-Take me to the ward to ward off evil spirits. -This way.

Measure my spirit with a spirit level. Level them off,

and don't spare the horses, it's because the hearses are waiting,

the hearses are waiting, the hearses are waiting for us all.

-Ada, how could you? -How could I what?

-Recommend me for private nursing? -What?

Now, what is all this?

I am to nurse a clutch of suburban maladies.

-And what makes you believe I have anything to do with it? -I believe you are envious

of my professional relationship with Dr Culpin and would like to see us split apart.

That is ridiculous!

To that end you have indicated to Miss Luckes

that I'm not suited to work in the receiving room.

-She told you that? -Of course not.

She told me you gave her exemplary reports of my work.

-But of course, she would cover for you. -Ethel you...

(KNOCK ON DOOR)

Excuse me, Sister.

Ethel, you are obviously upset by this development,

but I can assure you Ms Luckes's decision had nothing to do with me.

Swear on our friendship.

If you insist. I swear.

-Then why would she do this? -Didn't you ask her?

She merely told me it was her right to make use of me as she chooses.

Perhaps rumour of your closeness to Dr Culpin has reached her ear but not from my lips.

Now if you'll excuse me...

-Not too tight? -What?

-Not too tight? -Tight enough.

Don't you think the fact that Ms. Luckes gave me a wholly inadequate reason

for putting me into private nursing suggests she...

wishes to conceal her true motives from me?

Doing it to separate us seems rather excessive

when she could simply reassign you to any ward in the hospital.

-Scissors, please. -What?

I was talking to the nurse.

Does she know about your extra-curricular study?

The first thing you learn as a probationer - Luckes knows everything.

The odds will always be against you, Ethel,

studying to be a doctor.

Do you think I should give up my ambition?

-Do you? -Never.

How's your anatomy coming on?

Well, I think.

Have you memorised the facial muscles?

Where would you like me to begin?

Well, how about with those responsible for making you smile

Risorius. Orbicularis oris.

Zygomaticus major.

Levator labii superioris...

-What was that you said? -Levator labii superioris.

Sounds painful.

Nothing can stop you, Ethel.

Nothing, and no-one.

(KNOCK ON DOOR) Come in.

Please may I have a word, Sister?

Of course.

The ward is very heavy, Nurse.

We both have plenty to be getting on with.

Sister, from our very first days as Probationers,

we are taught the art of observing patients,

to glean clinical information from them.

Yes?

Mr Stoll is one of Mr Dean's patients.

Is this what you've observed?

Mr Stoll's current condition, of severe headaches,

and degree of severity, is in common with other of Mr. Dean's patients

who have been operated on under the new anaesthetic, stovaine.

In bed four, Mr Lawrence has just returned from an operation

under stovaine with no feeling in either leg.

I fail to see your point.

Other patients of Mr Dean's

who have been operated under Stovaine have died subsequently.

This concerns you?

Greatly.

If there were any substance to your concerns,

do you not think Mr Dean would already have it under consideration?

I have also observed Mr Dean on the ward.

He behaves almost as if these effects have scant consequence.

Do you believe you are in any position to question

a surgeon's clinical judgement, NURSE Goodley?

I'm sorry.

Well, I feel it is my responsibility to report to you what I've observed.

I feel stovaine is... well, questionable at least.

Well...

having reported that, I would like you to return to your duties.

May I ask...

..what will you do with what I've said?

For the sake of your career...

..precisely nothing.

He asked me to go to the boating lake with him.

-You can't just do that. -Why can't I?

You can't just go stepping out with him.

Is it feeling any easier, ma'am?

Not greatly.

Massage is generally more effective when applied directly

to the affected area.

Directly?

I fear your clothing and the blanket may be absorbing

some of the benefit, ma'am.

The heat from my fingers may have a direct effect on the damaged tissue.

Are you familiar with the naked leg of a duchess?

If you wish, I could avert my eyes during the procedure.

Very well.

Leave the room, and I will call you back

when I wish for you to continue.

Yes, ma'am.

There's still no feeling in the old pins, I gather?

No, Doctor.

It's a possible after effect of the Barker's needle.

It creates a temporary hazing of the electrical signals passing along the tissue

which can take a period to clear.

How long, Doctor? It's been over two days.

It varies from patient to patient.

Thank you, Doctor.

He's receiving strychnine injections every four hours?

Yes, Doctor.

Every three, two thirds the current dose.

Yes, Doctor.

Well, thank you, gentlemen.

And we shall reconvene after luncheon.

I thought he might interest you particularly, Dr Head.

Well, after you brought the arm to my attention,

I sent the boy to have his nerves tested by the electrical current.

The report suggests

damage to a large nerve, between his shoulder and neck.

I then sent him to be X-rayed for its cause, and discovered

this wonderfully rare little protuberance here.

It rather resembles a rudimentary rib.

Exactly, Sir.

Known as a cervical rib as it derives from the cervical vertebrae.

Extremely rare in a child. Unknown, in fact. Marvellous, isn't it?

So it compresses the nerve, blocking the neural pathway?

The boy suddenly lost all feeling in his arm,

the very moment this development caused the rib

to squeeze all functionality from the nerve.

-Is it treatable? -Oh yes, amputation.

-Of me arm? -Of your rib, young fellow.

Your deliciously spare little rib

(SCREAMING)

Gangrene. Get Mr Dean.

-How many more, Sister? -Get Mr. Dean

Bring morphine.

Mr Lawrence, try to keep calm. Steady.

Try to keep calm. Keep breathing.

(TELEPHONE RINGS)

Dean?

I'll be right with you.

(HE BREATHES DEEPLY)

Thank you.

I absolutely loathe private nursing.

Not a good day, I gather?

Left hand worn out from massaging a naked leg of a very bad-tempered Duchess.

Right hand simply suicidal after spending the best part of the evening

soothing a vicar's piles.

I'm sure they were both most grateful to you.

It's not what I want to do.

Why is she doing this to me?

Miss Luckes moves in mysterious ways, Ethel.

It's as if she wants to crush my spirit. I'm wasted out there.

And more to the point, I'm needed at the hospital.

Needed by?

The patients!

Where's Laura?

Had a light supper and went to bed.

Difficult day.

Oh, until she's had to endure a lecture on the role of God in science

while staring at an inflamed rectum,

she really doesn't know what difficult is.

(SHE SIGHS)

-Can I help you? -Miss De Burgh?

Yes.

I am Nurse Ethel Bennett from the London Hospital.

I'm here to prepare a room for your operation. My letter of introduction.

You look every bit as you should, my dear,

and that is good enough for me. Come in out of the cold.

Thank you.

-It is frightfully chilly today. -Yes

I expect you could do with a hot cup of tea before you get down to work.

Perhaps even a Garibaldi biscuit.

I have a packet of Peek Freans newly opened.

What I admire about surgeons, and Lord knows there isn't much,

is the courage required to commit to that first incision.

Perhaps for the first few procedures,

but courage soon gives way to the reassurance of routine.

I imagine it must.

Of course, under ACE my patients aren't awake,

scrutinising my every move.

-You've never considered spinal anaesthesia? -I did.

But it was like tackling a lamb chop with the lamb looking over your shoulder.

I much prefer to rummage around in peace.

To which end, gentlemen...

to access the cervical vertebrae,

we must first negotiate both the anterior and posterior..

-Triangles. -Correct.

Comme ca.

Just one slip and...

Less than helpful, old chap.

Sorry.

My goodness!

For my first three months at the London

I felt as if I did little else but scrub wards.

Poor child, you must be exhausted.

A small room like this is nothing.

And that is the table upon which I shall lie while Mr Fenwick cuts into me?

Yes.

The same table on which I myself have cut into many a joint of beef down the years.

A strange way to look at things, Miss De Burgh.

Many delude themselves otherwise, but eventually

we are all meat for the worms, my dear.

Such a gloomy thought!

On the contrary. Death is surely the spur to a fulfilled life.

It reminds us of our human duty

to wring as much meaning from every moment as we can.

Another Garibaldi?

Thank you.

You deserve it.

-You're late, Nurse. -Sorry, Sister. I was...waylaid.

I will have to note it in the ward report.

-Yes, Sister. -Well, get on.

The top dressings on Mr. Lawrence's wounds need changing.

Where...where did they amputate?

-Below or... -Above the knees.

Both legs.

JOE: Nurse?

The boy's is just regaining consciousness from anaesthesia.

-See to his comfort. -Yes, Sister.

JOE: Nurse?

(TELEPHONE RINGS)

Is Mr Holland in his office?

Would you tell him I wish to speak to him as a matter of some urgency.

No, not on the telephone. In person.

Thank you.

Move back! Gentlemen, calm!

-(SHOUTING) -Dr Culpin! Dr Ingrams!

A gin fight. With bottles, no less.

Well, neither appears to be bleeding excessively, Sister Russell,

but we can't stitch them up till they calm down.

Send one to cool off in the padded room, the other to remain in here.

-Give it, what, ten minutes? -I can smell their breath from here.

-Twenty then. -Agreed.

(SHOUTING CONTINUES)

Take her outside and walk her on the yard until she has calmed down.

You, sit down and be quiet.

This is a hospital. Not an ale house.

Remind me never to mistake in your company.

The projection of authority is a trick I picked up from Miss Luckes.

But is it still a trick, Sister Russell? Or is it now you?

Sister?

Is there somewhere we can speak?

She's dead, isn't she?

-Please... -How?

She, er, somehow managed to hang herself in her cell last night.

When you led her away, there was every indication Dr Culpin had saved her life.

Saved from the caustic soda, but not, it would seem, from the law.

Had you left her, we would have placed her

under round the clock supervision and care.

It wasn't my job to leave her here.

And now your job impels you to come and ask

-that we give evidence in your favour at her inquest. -Yes.

To help the police by suggesting she was deranged and beyond saving.

CULPIN: Suicide during temporary insanity.

You scratch our back..

And the society which drives such women to drink poison

takes no responsibility.

The world is harsh and remorseless, Sister.

You see it. I see it.

It drives some people mad.

When you find out her history,

I wonder if you will still think her mad for cutting it short.

History isn't my business.

-Your business is harsh reality. -That's right.

The harsh reality here, Constable, is that you could have

saved the life of that poor soul by leaving her with the people

equipped to care for her.

I did my duty, Doctor.

Excuse me.

I have my work to do.

Will he give evidence?

I think you'll find Dr Culpin is also a man of duty.

Now if you'll excuse me...

Artery forceps.

In a moment, I shall need you to get a bowl ready...

To receive the breast tissue.

Is it your habit to complete the sentences of every doctor you assist?

Or is there something about me that renders the urge irresistible?

I'm sorry, Mr Fenwick.

Incidentally,

this is by far and away the best-prepared domestic room I have ever operated in.

Thank you.

The patient too has undergone textbook preparation for removal of the breast.

Receiving bowl.

Oh, my. How much this dear lady must love life

to endure all this at her age.

Swabs.

My God.

We're under enough pressure from the press as it is.

If they got hold of this, the outcry would be deafening.

Assuming it's true, of course.

I have yet to speak to the author but I have every confidence, it is.

-How will you speak to them? They've scrubbed their name out. -I erased it to protect them.

You know who wrote this?

It's because I do I can vouch for their integrity.

I had hoped that we'd weathered the anaesthetics storm.

Spinal anaesthesia is in its infancy, Sydney.

Stovaine is a new drug.

New methods can often bring new problems and they take time to manifest themselves.

But Henry Dean is one of the most eminent surgeons in London.

He's been at the vanguard of spinal anaesthesia since it came over from France.

He lectures on the subject, for pity's sake!

That may make him reluctant to find stovaine responsible

for complications it's alleged to cause.

Key word here, alleged.

Would you ask Mr Morris to come to my office immediately?

Thank you.

What do you intend to do?

If this is true, everything in my power to prevent it becoming a major scandal.

Mr Lawrence, your wife is here.

Mr Lawrence?

Your wife.

Hello, love.

I'm... I'm still alive, Mary.

I'm still alive.

(SHE SOBS)

Good morning, gentlemen.

Gentlemen,

you are all familiar with the contents of the letter

received by Miss Luckes earlier this morning.

Please sit.

The letter lists case after case of alleged complication

following surgery carried out under the anaesthetic stovaine

administered by injection into the spinal cord.

In response, I have set Mr Morris the task of cross-referencing the records

to ascertain whether there is now a genuine cause for concern

about the use of stovaine here at the London. Ernest.

The last confirmed death following an operation under stovaine

was of a Raphael patient operated on by Mr Lette

two weeks ago for umbilical hernia.

After swift examination of the ward reports, I have taken the view that

the list of unsatisfactory results following the use of stovaine

does indeed stand scrutiny.

Well, gentlemen,

I've heard sufficient to move that we immediately ask our medical council to advise us

at the earliest opportunity on whether stovaine should in fact be used

in this hospital. All in favour...

I further move that, until that decision is received,

we ask our surgeons to abstain from the use of this drug.

Ah, the surgeons won't like it.

The surgeons are not my prime concern,

the reputation of this hospital is.

All in favour.

NURSE GOODLEY: You see how I'm buttering the bread? JOE: Yes, Nurse.

Evenly, without meanness or extravagance.

The bread bin is cleaned and emptied everyday and kept well covered.

Any bread that isn't eaten, we cover up and use it the next meal. What is it?

Don't let me interrupt your work, ladies.

I've managed to unchain myself from paperwork for a few minutes to do some rounds.

You look tired, Nurse Goodley, I trust you're getting enough sleep.

Yes, Matron.

It's easy to allow things we encounter on the ward to develop a grip on us

and leave us feeling only WE are thus affected,

but more often than not, others have the same concerns.

Sharing the load. That's the key.

Thank you, Matron.

Carry on.

-Patients in... -Is it true?

Might we continue this conversation another time? Most kind.

Editor of the Times in search of another wrong tree to bark up.

Is it true?

The House Committee has taken it upon itself to suspend the use of stovaine?

My dear Mr Dean...

..in light of recent concerns,

the committee has asked for a Medical Council directive on the use of stovaine

and simply asks surgeons to refrain from its use until that directive...

-In other words, a moratorium? -Moratorium.

Such a long word, don't you think?

The remit of the House Committee extends to questions of hospital policy, not medicine.

Might one not, under certain circumstances,

expect the one to affect the other?

Nevertheless, and with all due respect,

a lay committee is not qualified to deliberate on medical matters.

Does one need to be a doctor to identify an untimely corpse?

Actually, yes.

Might I ask from which quarter this sudden concern over stovaine emanates?

Mr Morris has been monitoring deaths from anaesthesia since the rate spiralled

from 155 four years ago to over 230 last year.

Only there is talk of an anonymous letter.

Well, even if that were the case,

the anonymity of the author wouldn't render the letter's contents

any the less serious if found to be true.

-I shall protest, Mr Holland. -As is your prerogative.

As will every doctor in the house.

-Expect a fight. -I always do, Mr Dean.

I always do.

(KNOCKING)

I, um...

I thought perhaps if Mohammed couldn't come to the mountain, that, er...

-the mountain might.. -And you are the mountain in what sense?

Of medical knowledge.

As much as I would like to let you in, I'm afraid it would be inappropriate.

Are you sure? I am a doctor and, er...

..I have cakes.

And I have an anatomy text book and Garibaldi biscuits.

I miss you in the receiving room.

I missed it terribly at first.

And now?

I've come to appreciate how far I have succumbed to my own liking of excitement

over the patients' needs.

-Luckes? -Luckes.

-Sure I can't tempt you? -Not with the cakes.

Good night, Millais.

Chloroform and ether is first directed upon the higher nervous centres,

especially those associated with consciousness,

and then, step by step, it affects the centres for maintaining life itself.

Stovaine avoids these dangers.

During the operation, perhaps,

but post-operative complications?

Technicalities that time will resolve.

Would you tell Mr Lawrence in Raphael that the loss of his legs is a technicality?

Advances are rarely without cost, Mr. Holland.

A moratorium on stovaine is a moratorium on progress itself.

Oh, come on!

DEAN: 'I have seen what stovaine can accomplish.

'At Fribourg, a thousand operations with stovaine have been performed

at the Women's Hospital without a single death or serious complication.

At University College Hospital,

Barker has performed 400 operations using stovaine.

The first 300 went well. Just two deaths in the last 100.

-Two too many. -Of course, of course!

No-one is claiming that stovaine is suitable for all operations, but for those it is,

it brings great benefits.

The benefits aren't in question. The risks are.

And they should be worked at and eliminated,

but how will that be possible if we simply abandon stovaine and spinal anaesthesia

without giving them a chance to establish themselves? No, I stand with Dean.

Mr Lawrence, Raphael Ward.

SMITH:'I have performed too many autopsies on patients who expired

'after alcohol and ether sent them so deeply into unconsciousness,

'they could not be recovered.'

We must move forward, for this reason, I choose to stand with Dean.

-MEN: Me too. -Mr Fenwick,

as Chairman of the Medical Council,

where do you stand on stovaine?

The evidence on stovaine is contradictory.

When it works without complication, it is uns...

But the incidence of complication is significantly frequent.

FENWICK:'In an attempt to broaden my understanding,

'I made enquiries at other London hospitals

'regarding the wider use of this drug.'

Your future rests on how you answer the following question.

Did you or did you not surreptitiously report your personal concerns

regarding stovaine anaesthetic?

At the Middlesex, St Thomas', Guys', stovaine is hardly ever used.

-As is anything... -Indeed, it is looked upon with grave suspicion.

As is anything new by those interested in maintaining the status quo.

Nevertheless, I have acquired a list of recorded sequelae

following the use of stovaine, from just one doctor at the Middlesex.

'Three cases of acute mania, a case of epileptiform attacks,'

five cases of incontinence of faeces...

Is this all you have, Fenwick, a list?

One case of paralysis of the lower limbs,

lasting until death several months later.

This doctor concludes that

"the number of recorded cases of escape from imminent death is so great

"as to inspire a profound distrust

" of the anaesthetic employment of stovaine."

If you lie to me, Nurse Goodley,

I will see to it that your nursing career is over.

Not merely at the London - I will ensure you never wear the cap again.

I sense you're considering a degree of obfuscation.

I warn you again - do not.

I have made a speciality of rooting out deceit.

It appears as a quality in the eyes that a liar cannot conceal,

however hard they try.

-HOLLAND: Your own view, Hurry? -I am against its use.

You stand against your own profession?

I'm unconvinced by the arguments.

Or are you more convinced that by aligning yourself with the lay establishment

-it may better feather the autumn of your career? -Mr Dean!

If I were ten years younger, I would invite you outside for that remark.

If you were ten years younger, you too would realise that stovaine is the future.

All those in favour of stovaine, say aye.

MAJORITY: Aye.

We've had the fight, Mr Holland, now you've witnessed its outcome.

Progress or stagnation. What say you?

Nurse Goodley,

did you or did you not sneak behind Mr Dean's back

to report your concerns about stovaine?

Look at me, Nurse, and answer my question.

(KNOCK AT DOOR)

-Miss Luckes. -Would you leave us, please, Sister?

I was just speaking to Nurse Goodley.

But now I wish to speak to her, in private.

-In private? -Now, please, Sister!

As you wish...Matron.

Well, your letter has caused something of a stir.

The surgeons and the House Committee

are doing battle over the use of stovaine as we speak.

You've been brave, now you must be sensible in equal measure.

Be assured Mr Dean will seek out whoever wrote that letter.

He will claim he cannot operate in an atmosphere

where his clinical judgement is questioned and mistrusted.

He will sniff out and hound the author from the ward,

then from the nursing profession itself.

-But there's proof... -He will destroy you, Nurse Goodley.

And there will be nothing I can do to prevent it.

Which is why I am offering you a place in my office...

..under my personal protection.

Now, Mr Dean is due a leave of absence.

We should be certain that you are not here on his return.

I... I don't know what to say.

Well, I'm afraid you have little choice but to say yes.

And to say it now.

"Reporting on the value of the new anaesthetic, stovaine

"the House Committee of the London Hospital states

"that enquiries into its use show that it's introduction is a benefit to humanity

-"The committee believes..." -No!

To believe in something is to suggest an element of faith, which in itself

raises a question mark over the certainty surrounding the thing.

No equivocation. The committee STATES. State it without doubt.

"The committee states that the great advantage of stovaine

"is that the shock to the patient is far less

"than the shock from ether or chloroform.

-"It has been decided..." -Not "decided", "agreed".

You shall have your way, Mr Dean,

but not at the cost of seeing this committee's authority publicly diluted.

Very well.

Mr Morris.

"It has been decided

"that the use of stovaine shall continue at the London Hospital."

(MURMURS OF CONGRATULATION)

-Hello, Joe. -Hello.

How's your arm?

Excellent!

(DOOR OPENS)

-Nurse Goodley. -Mr Dean.

Now, you must do everything the doctors tell you, Joe.

They know best.