All language subtitles for Casualty.1900s.S02E02_English

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.