All language subtitles for My-Happy-Ending_2023_English-ELSUBTITLE.COM-ST_70612983

Ugh.

I'm dying in here.

This tastes like shit!

As if metastatic cancer
isn't torture enough.

What is it, Judy?

Camel milk.
Strengthens the immune system.

Not sure how it tastes
so disgusting.

It must be healthy.

Erm, use the oven,
not the microwave...

Good morning, Ms Roth.
I'm Emilia.

I'll be taking care
of you today.

Please, let's go through.

In here? No, I can't
go in there.

I need privacy, you see?

Don't worry, every infusion station
has curtains to ensure just that.

Oh, no, seriously,

I... I need a room of my own.

- There are no private rooms.
- I can wait.

I'm sorry, Ms Roth, but we don't
have private rooms at all.

Dr Fletcher personally arranged for
me to come to this remote location.

He seemed to understand

the importance
of maintaining my privacy.

Could you get him, please?

I'm afraid Dr Fletcher's
at his London hospital today.

Jesus Christ!

I understand coming here for the
first time is extremely difficult.

Dr Fletcher left specific
instructions for your care,

and you're in very good hands
with Dr Hanson.

Now, if you'll allow me, I'd
love to help get you started.

Did you see who that was?

Who?

Bloody hell!
What would she be doing here?

I read she was doing
a West End play

that opened and closed
the same week.

Vicious reviews.
Meaner than you on a bad day.

Who is that?

She used to be fucking huge.

Ladies, please, let's have
some privacy here, shall we?

Sorry!

It isher!

Don't worry.

I'll speak to them.

They won't talk.

This is a fucking disaster.

Once I'm done,
whomever you're here with

- can come sit with you.
- It's just me.

- You're here by yourself?
- Yes.

But someone will need
to take you home.

You're gonna be getting
some very strong drugs today.

It's OK, I'll call a cab.

You haven't told anyone?

Can we start, please?
I'd like to get this over with.

Ms Roth, chemotherapy's
not something

that you can just get over with.

- Your family will notice...
- Look, I appreciate it.

I really do. Can
we just do this?

Of course. Can you roll
your sleeve up for me, please?

Thank you.

Oh.

OK.

OK, we'll start you off
with some ondansetron for nausea

and omeprazole for heartburn,

before we move on
to the actual treatment,

oxaliplatin and 9-FU.

Here's some more ondansetron for
home if you're still nauseated later.

Now, ondansetron
might cause headaches,

so here's paracetamol,
which might cause weakness,

so here's dexamethasone,
which might cause insomnia,

so here's some diazepam.

Diazepam might make
you constipated,

so be sure to take
the bisacodyl.

In cases of severe diarrhoea
caused by the bisacodyl,

here's some sicodium,

and cortisol for haemorrhoids
caused by the diarrhoea.

Hair might start to grow
where it's not supposed to,

like a beard or a moustache,
but it goes away eventually.

Oh, I'd just like to stress,

there's no restriction
regarding sexual activity.

Great! Now I just need to find
someone who's into bearded ladies.

OK. We're gonna go for
a slow drip here...

Can, erm... can we take a break?

Of course.

I'll check in on you later.

If you need anything, be sure
to buzz this button here.

You ladies behave.
Do you hear me?

What did Annie put in your
lunch box today, Mikey?

Erm...

cucumber sandwiches
and carrot sticks.

Oh, and... a unicorn sticker.

Judy, we're running
a little late...

on your prescription.

I'll drop it off
when it's ready.

OK, you, out with it.

Shut up. Leave me alone.

What's up with your
hair, anyway?

Oh, dammit.

You know, the cat chews on it
in her sleep.

She's ruined it.

I think she thinks
it's her mother.

Oh, fuck it.

I'm getting a new one
today, anyway.

Oh, that's better.

I prefer going "Baldilocks",
to be honest.

It's just, genuinely,
it upsets the cat.

Eggheads of the world unite!

Why aren't you picking up?

How's your cold?

I don't really have a cold.

I knew it. I can always
tell when you're lying.

I have colon cancer.

And I'm in chemotherapy
right now.

What?

Those stomach aches...

Last Wednesday,
when you met with the producers,

I went to see Dr Fletcher,

and he said that I could come to
this small clinic outside of London

to keep a low profile.

And I didn't wanna worry you,

but they put me in a room
with other people,

so I need you to come now.

- Nance!
- I'm on my way.

Jesus, Jules!

You didn't wanna worry me?

- Me?
- Don't yell at me.

I get it.

I need you to get here.
People saw me.

Just stay away from anyone.

But I really need to pee.

And... what, there...
there are no bathrooms there?

There are, but they're
on the other side of the room,

and I have to walk past
all these women.

Who can hear you loud and clear!

Who can hear me loud and clear.

What if they heard
everything I said?

- They did!
- Judy shh!

Oh... my God!

- Nance...
- OK, honey,

look, take a big breath
and go pee.

OK? I'll be there
as fast as I can.

GASPS

Oh!

I am so sorry.
Before you had on your...

I'm a jerk.

Please forgive me.

It's fine.
I'm so sorry we scared you.

- We should've given you a heads up.
- Don't worry about it.

I'm er... Mikey, by the way.

- Massive fan.
- Aww, Mikey!

I really appreciate that.

Fuck me! I can't believe
this is happening!

Julia Roth!

In the flesh, standing
right here.

This is so cool!

Not that you being here
is... is... is cool.

Of course. Erm...

Mikey, if you don't shut up,
her bladder's going to explode.

No, no, no, it's fine.

I really appreciate it, Mikey.
It's just so sweet.

But I need to, erm...

Go for a whizz.

Oh, for goodness...

Why are you getting so worked up
over an old Hollywood has-been?

Julia Roth is not a has-been.

She did that film
a few years ago, remember?

The one with what's-his-face,
the one in space.

That was terrible.

Yeah. Yeah,
it fucking was.

She has such beautiful hair.

Always has had.

Soon she's gonna look
like the rest of us.

Julia Roth
is never gonna look like us.

- Oh, yes.
- Never gonna look like us.

Ugh.

Look, I am...
really sorry about before.

Ugh.

Ugh.

Don't worry. You know we're not gonna
tell anyone about you being here.

Thank you.

What's wrong with her?

Oh, er, chemo can be
a bit tough at times.

A bit?

Judy, can Julia come with us? Please?
Please, please, please...

Oh, I can't leave.
I'm waiting for my manager.

Oh, we're not going anywhere.

Well, we are, but we're
not leaving.

You'll see. Just give
me your hand.

Don't mind me
while I'm suffering here.

It's OK,
I promise. It's gonna be fun.

Oh, God, so soft.

Oh! Nice tattoo.

- Mikey, shut up.
- Sorry.

OK, here we go. Er,
close your eyes.

OK, Judy, where are we?

We're on a beautiful island

in the middle of a rainforest.

There's a light wind.
A tender wind blowing.

I can feel it. So nice!

Shh! Mikey!

Just listen to the animals
in the distance.

Now...

I'll tell you what
we're going to do.

Judy, wait. We've lost Julia.

I've got to go back.

JUDY SIGHS

Poor Julia.
You must think we're crazy.

I'm just... wondering
what's in your IV pack.

I wish!

No, it's just a little thing we
do to take our minds off the pain.

But it works.

It's like a game, like
make-believe, like pretending.

Like acting.

Shh, Judy.

- So sorry. She's in a lot of pain.
- OK, we will be there soon enough.

OK...

We take a deep breath in.

And let it slowly out.

Let every muscle in
your body relax,

from your eyebrows to your toes.

OK. We're back on the island.

There's no beeping of monitors.

No hissing of fluorescent
lights.

No dreadful moaning.
It's all gone...

far, far away.

All you can hear is
the sound of waterfalls...

and animals in the
forest behind.

Now, that's better.

Welcome to Judy's holiday.

Where the sun never shines,

and where Judy bosses
us all around.

Well, come on, ladies.

Chop chop! We haven't
got all day.

Wait for me!

Don't slip.

No, thanks.

Quiet! You'll
scare it away.

Scare what away?

Look, here's the plan.
Mikey, you grab it.

Imaan, you hold the knife.

- Jesus!
- Don't worry.

- We don't kill it.
- Kill what?

And don't worry about the poison.
That is what ignites the healing.

Poison? Can we go back now?

Are you missing chemo already?

What do you think's
in that IV bag? Tea?

OK, meanie.

You tell me right now
what is bothering you today.

Hey, maybe we should
just give her some space.

Chop chop!
Let's get on with it.

This is how you relax
from chemo?

You don't know Judy.

You don't know chemo!

Hi. Hello.

- Hey. Where's the blue dummy?
- What, you can't find it?

I've looked everywhere.
He won't take anything else.

Maybe try the, er...
you know the third drawer...

- Yeah, wait, wait, don't hang up.
- Yeah, go look. I'll wait.

I swear to God...

It's an old tribal ritual.

You apply the frog's venom
into an open wound,

and it makes the body
so sick that it...

purges the toxins.

Mikey!

First, you tell me
what's up with you today.

Fine.

Promise me you won't
get excited. OK?

I had a CT scan this morning.

My tumour might be shrinking. I'm
still waiting for the results.

Oh, my God! Judy, that's
so exciting!

Mikey, dammit!

Oh, shit! Sorry.

OK, call me if you find it.
Yes, I'm so sorry.

Abed can't find that blue dummy
and the baby won't fall asleep...

Jesus Christ!

Could we, once, just once,

focus on catching
that bloody frog?

This is my holiday.

And it's gone.

Again.

Don't move.

Imaan.

Yoo-hoo!

Ladies?

Coming through!

- Joey!
- The one and only.

- Did you get it?
- Oh, yeah. I've got it right here.

Oh, I think I am in
actual love with you.

Barking up the wrong tree, dear.

Julia? Julia Roth?

No, you're confused.

Oh, come on, I'd recognise
that beautiful hair anywhere.

It's Joey. I did your hair
on that Jane Austen movie.

It was years ago.

Right. That's right.

What are you doing here?

- Oh, no. No.
- No. Research.

For a new role.

Wait, what's in your IV?

- Vitamins.
- Vitamins?

Vitamins.

Oh, phew!

Thank God! I nearly
wet my knickers.

I thought, "Oh, no, no, please!
Not Julia Roth! No!"

What a relief.

Isn't it?

Well, let's get you into
character right away.

Oh.

No, Joey,
I'm not sure that's such a...

- Is it?
- No!

Yeah, let's do it.

I gave up the film business
years ago.

I got tired of waiting for the
gigs, surviving the dry months.

But here it's always pouring.

I mean, this job is so dynamic.
The customer turnover is amazing.

Hold still.

I could swear you were dying.

What the hell?

Jules... what have
they done to you?

- Relax, Nance.
- Oh, Jesus fucking Christ!

You think that's funny?

OK, er... meet and greet is over.
Everyone back off.

Hey. Found it?

No. It's quite the drama.

Yeah, there's his mobile
with, like, dolphins.

- Yeah...
- Out of battery.

- Oh. OK...
- You.

Who are you talking to?

- Keep your hair on, missus!
- Hello?

- No-one cares.
- Hello?

OK, bye.

Yeah, so get that one.
That puts him to sleep...

Now... who else knows? The kids?

Oh, God, no. And you
can't tell them.

What...?

You're supposed
to FaceTime Cassie later.

She wanted to see your dress
at the fitting today.

Oh, God! No, the fitting...

Shit, Nance!

Cass can't know about this
before the wedding.

I'm not gonna tell Nate either.

Just tell her I don't feel well.
No, don't do that.

Tell her I have to work, or...

Jules... relax.

I'll deal with Cassie.

So...

I did some research,
and once we get back to the US,

there's a doctor you have to see
in New Mexico

who's also a shaman.

She developed this, erm,
herbal therapy.

It supposedly crushes
cancer cells.

Something with turmeric...

- It's sage, actually.
- It's not sage, it's thyme.

Can't believe they didn't
let you have your own room.

That's what I need
you to fix, Nance.

And no New Mexico shaman.

You know I can't stand turmeric.

It might be sage.

And I'm not gonna go back to LA.

What, so they can high-five
Julia Roth

for having her West
End play killed

and getting colon cancer
in the same week? No.

I'm gonna stay here, away
from the press and everyone,

and then, when this
is all over...

I'll fly back to LA
in time for the wedding.

Screw that piece-of-shit
West End production.

Good riddance.

Now you'll have time
to prep for the pilot.

What pilot? Hello?

Well, you... you mean they won't
hire you cos you have cancer?

- Right.
- Wrong.

They could never not hire you
cos you have cancer.

That would make them...

What's that word for racist
against cancer?

- Cancerist.
- Cancerist?

And no-one wants to look like
a cancerist.

No-one knows what
a cancerist is.

And no, you're not gonna tell
the network.

Not the network.

The world.

- What are you talking about?
- You wanted me to fix this.

Not only are we not gonna hide it, we...
No, you...

will be sharing your journey
with the public.

You'll be the face of cancer.

Providing hope and inspiring
millions of patients

across America and
around the world...

The face of cancer?

I'm talking about
your long-overdue memoirs,

with a new ending chapter titled
"How I Beat Cancer".

You're talking about using
my cancer as a comeback?

Am I that desperate?

God... No, no, Nance.

I told you not to say comeback.
You never left.

And we'll wait till after
the wedding.

Of all the crazy ideas...

Thank me next year
in your Emmy acceptance speech.

Well... first I have
to get the part.

Oh, gimme a break!

Sharon told me the reading
was just a formality,

the Kate part is practically
yours.

You mean Lauren.
Kate's the neighbour.

She's only in one scene.

You are fucking kidding me.

Those fucking assholes!

Jules, I'll fix this.

I promise.

Either way, they're asking you
to dye your hair.

Well... next month,
there'll be no hair to dye.

Excuse me? Some privacy, please?

Ms Roth,
today's entrée is now served,

oxaliplatin.

Also, it's time for
doctor's rounds.

Dr Handsome, too?

Yes, Mikey, Dr Hanson, too!

How is this silly
joke still alive?

Chemotherapy.

Who's Dr Hanson?

Oh, he's a star.

Captain Chemo! Smexy as hell.

He's our very own Julia Roth.

There's only one Julia Roth!

And I'm gonna get
her her own room!

Actually, when I'm done, you'll
have your own goddamn wing.

Thank God you're here, Nance.

I got this, Jules.

Face of cancer, seriously?

I'm picking up
some very good vibes.

What on earth
are you talking about?

Good morning. How is everyone?

- Cool.
- Shit.

- I'm fine.
- Oh, good. Sounds like usual.

I hope they're not distracting
you from your studies?

No, they're not,
but my chemo brain is.

Wait, Doc?

What about Judy's results?

Ah, yes, we're still
waiting on that.

And that is completely OK,

because we already know
that they are good.

Dr Hanson, have you met
your colleague, Dr Good Vibes?

Professor Good Vibes, please.
Enchantée.

That's a really nice wig,
Professor Good Vibes.

Thanks, Doc!

- Good morning, Ms Roth.
- I've had better.

I can imagine.

We'll try to make this
as comfortable as possible,

under the circumstances.

- Now, Dr...
- I've also had worse.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

Never mind.

Julia Catherine Roth,
58 years old...

Well, you know,
the secret to staying young...

- live honestly, eat slowly and...
- Lie about your age.

Lucille Ball.

Never mind. Erm...

can we continue, please?

Colonoscopy and PET/CT shows

stage 4 metastatic colon cancer...
- Jesus!

Oh, fuck!

Adenocarcinoma
originating from the colon,

with multiple metastases
in liver and lung.

Receiving neoadjuvant therapy.

- May I say something?
- Yes, Ms Roth.

I need you all to keep my
being here today to yourselves.

Right. Well, rest assured
that we will, Ms Roth.

Dr Blake.

Candidate for right
hemicolectomy, left hepatectomy

and radiofrequency ablation
of lung metastases.

First-line therapy ideas?

- We have...
- Excuse me.

My manager has non-disclosure
agreements for you all to sign.

You too, Dr Handsome.

Hanson.

Dr Hanson.

Ms Roth, erm...

I'm not sure what
you're accustomed to,

but here, we doctors are discreet
about all of our patients.

Regardless of who they are
or what we sign.

- Well, I just...
- Any questions about your treatment?

Yes.

I need my own room.

Well, Ms Roth,
I assure you, in this country,

we deeply appreciate
the need of a room of one's own.

But this is a public hospital

and we are unable
to provide one.

But what we are able
and very determined to provide

is the best possible
medical care for you.

Now, do let us know
if you have any...

medical matters that you wish
to discuss with us.

OK. Thank you.

Moving on.

Ladies.

Oh, God.

What a dick!

Who does he think he is?

I haven't cried since
last Wednesday,

and now this smug, asshole,
piece-of-shit doctor...

He's a very good doctor.

Medical questions, my ass!

Who could understand
a word they said?

They do that on purpose.

God, Nancy!

Where the fuck are you?

Fuck! Fuck!

- Hey.
- Hey, Abed, did he fall asleep?

I've already tried everything.
He won't go down.

Oh, no, I just... I just...

found the dummy in
my pocket, so...

- Thank God!
- Yeah. I'm so sorry.

Erm, yeah, just come.
I'll give it to you.

OK. Sorry.

So how many stages are there?

Er...

What do you mean?

When they said stage 4,
you all groaned.

So, it's...
four out of how many, exactly?

Well?

Maybe you should
speak to Emilia.

Didn't your doctor
give you the talk?

He did.

He told me I had cancer
and I fainted.

And then I went back
to the hotel...

turned off my phone and...

self-medicated,

with a month's supply
of antidepressants

and a case of vodka.

So... how many stages
are we talking about?

Look, it's just numbers, OK?

It's all about your spirit,
which can't be graded, right?

Well... what are your numbers?

- 3C.
- Oh, there's letters, too.

Yes, I... I'm 3A.

At least...
until my scan results come back.

- 2B.
- Oh, I'm in the lead.

All I get are supporting roles
these days.

We love you, Julia.

I appreciate that.

So, erm...

there's no stage 5, huh?

Well, how do I know
if I'm 4A or 4D?

There's only one four.

I see.

Wow! Aren't
you one lucky gal!

No private rooms, my ass!

Tell that to your
new, beautiful, private room,

thank you very much,
yeah, that's right.

OK, Jules, let's get
you outta here.

I got your bag, your jacket.

Oh, I got you some tea.

There's a lady outside
giving it away for free.

Honestly! I don't get
the healthcare system here.

So bizarre.

Let's go, Jules.

Just got off the
phone with Hugh.

I didn't say anything.
Just feeling the water.

They'd love to have you on.

Come. Come see your new suite.

OK. Here we go.

I talked to Sharon
at the network.

The Kate part isn't small.

It's a cameo.
They wrote it with you in mind.

That's why it's the
funniest one.

Hey. This is a nice room.

Jules?

I can't stay in this room.

What? Why?

It stinks.

Seriously, I can't
smell anything.

I don't know, maybe
it's the chemo.

Oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry.

I'll fix this. I'll get
new a new room right away.

Don't forget your tea.

No place for
fainters on this front.

You certainly raise
the bar for being tough, Judy.

Fuck a duck! Did you hear the
surgeries they've got her down for?

That's not surgery,
it's butchery.

Well, she has stage 4.

I mean,
there might not even be any...

point in operating... I know...

Let's hope they find out
before they open her up.

Yeah. I just hope she gets
through the day all right.

Listen, what we said,
it's really not that bad.

Especially if you believe in karma
and the power of the mind to create.

I don't.

So...

tell me about the butchery.

Oh, don't be so dramatic.

It's just a few surgeries.

I've had my uterus, ovaries,
fallopian tubes,

spleen and gallbladder removed.

My mouth's practically
connected to my arse.

Which explains all the shit
coming out of it.

Plenty more where that
came from, darling.

I got us a new room.
Come smell it.

Never mind. I don't need a room.

Well, of course, you do. We can't
risk more people seeing you.

Nance, no-one cares.

Oh, come on, Jules.
This is ridiculous.

Well... whatever you want.

Oh! It's, erm... It's
Harriet's last chemo session.

Oh, it's today?
I'm gonna cry.

- Let's go. Come on, Julia.
- Come on.

Erm, don't worry,
we'll keep our distance.

Brrrrrrr!

Harriet!

There she is.

Harriet!

That's you next week, Judy!

OK, what are we all gonna wear?

Don't jinx it!

Of course, I'd love to
hear that bell again.

"Again"?

Wait, you've been here before?

Oh, yeah. Four times.

- Me, too. Twice.
- Still working on my first.

But you're both back?

Yeah. And soon enough,
we'll be back there.

- Ringin' that bell.
- Inshallah. Can't wait.

You know, Annie's already
picked out our matching outfits.

Of course, she has!

What's wrong, Jules?

I got cancer.

Funny girl, aren't you?

I wanna call Cassie,
make sure she got my text.

Wait, what time is it in LA?

Nope. Still too early
for Cassie.

Wait, you two a couple?

- Aw, that's so lovely!
- No.

Jules was married
to my brother years ago.

And Nancy's my compensation
for that marriage.

Strictly platonic.

So why the tattoos?

Oh, it's kinda silly.

We got them for our
40th birthday.

Well... my 40th.

I was devastated,
and Nancy came up with this idea

of tattooing a circle for each
decade to celebrate our growth.

- Like trees.
- Like trees.

So... that's our 40th...

and our 50th...

and... still counting.

Did I mention we were
really drunk?

Well, I think it's beautiful.

That's the network, folks.
I'll be right back.

Oh, Nance, I don't wanna do it.
Please.

Nancy Green. Just a second.

Just starting a conversation.
That's all. No commitment.

- Dr Ambrose?
- Yes. Hi, Ms Green.

Thanks for calling me back.

Look,
about your friend's situation...

- Er, yes, it's sad.
- ..I'm not going to lie.

We're talking a 7% chance
of recovery here, realistically.

But you don't know her.
She's a fighter.

- I'm sure she is...
- If anyone can land in...

that 7%, it's her.

Ugh.

Are you OK?

It's just pain.

We're old mates.

Here we go.

Judy hates that
I don't hate the pain.

I just reckon it's there
for a reason, so...

there's no point ignoring it.

"Ignore it". I say kill it!

Mikey?

Do you want to go on holiday?

- Hell, yeah.
- OK.

Come on.

Where are we?

In the happiest place on earth.

Not again!

Judy would whack me
for saying this,

but if you choose to accept it,
cancer can be a gift.

Does it come with
a gift receipt?

I mean it.

Well, it certainly helps you get
your life priorities straight.

And then you die.

No-one's dying!

At some point, you're gonna have
to stop resisting

and start accepting.

What's so damn great
about accepting?

Mikey? Mikey, I cannot keep on
coming on holiday with you.

I've got other patients
to care for.

I'm sorry, Doc.

And also, I'm very concerned
about your drug consumption.

Why is he a dick
even in your fantasy?

I have man issues.

Me, too.

Mum?

Mum!

Mum!

Are you OK?

Mum!

- Mum!
- Annie!

Mum!

Annie!

- Mum?
- Annie!

- Annie!
- Mummy?

- Annie! Annie!
- Mummy?

- Annie!
- Mummy?

- Annie!
- Mummy?

Ali?

Ali?

Hey. Sorry, I just...

No, it's OK.

Hey. So sorry Mummy
took your dummy.

I'm so sorry.

Silly Mummy. Hello, Ali.

Sama...

Oh, they called from school,
on our way here.

She's a little feverish.

And she knows she mustn't get too
close to Mummy and her friends.

It's OK, she's been
really brave about it.

- Like a real big girl.
- Hey.

So sorry, my darling.

It's not your fault, OK?

It's Mummy's fault.

It's no-one's fault.

Sama, life sometimes gets
a little shitty, you know?

Oh, erm... er, this
is Julia Roth.

- You probably recognised her.
- No, I'm a new patient.

- Hi.
- Nice to meet you.

I hope you get better soon,
sweetheart.

- We should go.
- Yeah.

- We'll come pick you up later.
- OK.

Oh, no. No, let Sama rest.

Annie and I will drop Imaan off.

We're taking Judy, anyway.

It's our chemobile.

- Yeah, it's fine.
- OK.

That'd be really
nice, thank you.

Hey, listen to me.

When you feel better, weare going
to do something really nice.

OK?

Just you and me.

I love you.

OK.

Yeah. OK.

It's just a little bit of
temperature.

She'll be fine by tomorrow.

Yeah.

Yeah, but then the baby
will get it and...

I'll have to stay in bed for a
week so I don't get an infection.

There's my Bar exam.

Abed will have to take care
of them all by himself.

And by the time everyone's
healthy again, I'll...

I'll forget that I promised Sama
our one-on-one time

and she won't mention it because
she knows she needs to be... brave.

And to behave like a big girl.

She's five.

Sometimes life can
be really shitty.

You feeling sick or...
acid reflux?

It's awful.

- Poor love.
- The awful hasn't even started yet.

Nurse Emilia gave me something for
it but I don't know what it was.

Doesn't matter.

Couldn't help, anyway.

Sorry.

God!

How do you guys do it?

We go on our holidays.

- Do you want to try?
- I don't know how.

Oh, that's OK. We'll
show you how.

Right, so where do
you want to go?

Bet you know some dreamy places.

Now, don't overthink it.

Hey. Close your eyes.

OK.

Relax all your muscles.

Now take a big breath.

You girls want to see dreamy?

Woo hoo! Bonjour!

Go, girl!

Julia!

Give us a smile, Julia!

- You look gorgeous today!
- Julia!

- Julia!
- Julia!

- Julia.
- These holidays are meant for you.

Yeah, don't waste them
on impressing us.

- Julia!
- Julia!

BIRDS CHIRPING

Oh.

You may now kiss the bride.

- This is where I really wanna be.
- Oh, Julia, this is lovely. Really.

Oh, she's gorgeous.

I can't believe they started
without me.

Oh, Cass!

Cass! Sweetheart! Cass!

Nance! Nance!

Nurse.

Nurse.

Nurse.

Nurse!

- Jules, are you OK?
- What's the matter Ms Roth?

I want to stop treatment.

What?

I wanna go home. That's
where I wanna be right now.

Oh, thank God!

OK, I may have already
booked a flight to LA.

And we can get you admitted
into Cedars-Sinai right away.

No. You don't understand.

I don't wanna do chemo in LA.

I'm quitting chemotherapy.

Altogether. I just
wanna go home.

What did you say to her?

It doesn't have anything
to do with them. It's me.

Please, disconnect me.

I don't understand.
What happened?

I got a peek down the
rabbit hole, and I want out.

Ms Roth, what you're going through
is typical for a first treatment.

- Typical, Jules.
- Trust me. Once you get used to it...

- Gotta get used to it, Jules.
- I don't want to.

That's the whole point.
Please. Disconnect me now.

I can't.
Not without Dr Hanson's order.

Are you kidding me? That jerk?

Or we can forget about the whole
thing and you'll be finished in...

- less than three hours.
- Sounds good. Let's do that.

- Get him.
- Don't get him.

- Get him.
- Jules, listen to me...

May I please see Dr Hanson, now?

- No, you may not.
- I'm not playing this game.

I have to get the doctor if
that's what the patient wants.

That's what she wants.

Keep an eye on her.

Chemotherapy won't cure me.

But it'll buy you time.

Time spent on chemo,

buying more time to spend on chemo.
It's like a Ponzi scheme.

Time for scientists to make
breakthrough discoveries.

Like that cancer-crushing
turmeric?

I thought it was sage.

Look, either way,
science is advancing.

All the time. And chemo,
it gives you more time.

How much?

- Could be years.
- How many?

- Ten?
- Ten is maybe a bit optimistic.

Five?

- Let's say three.
- Let's.

And without treatment?

A year. At best.

Can I suggest you think about
it, take a little bit more time?

What the fuck, Jules?

I can't do it, Nance.

Yes. You can.

I've been talking to Dr Ambrose
at Cedars-Sinai...

What?

I... I told you not
to tell anyone.

Jules, you gotta let
me fix this, please.

You can't fix stage
4 cancer, Nancy.

You can't even fix
my casting calls.

That was a cameo.

Bullshit!

I literally don't have time
for bullshit.

I can't do it.

The night Cassie was born,
you also said,

"I can't do it, Nance."

And you did.

And now that baby's
getting married,

and soon enough,
she'll have her own baby.

Who'll need their grandma.

Grandma?

What are you talking about, Nance?
I'm not gonna be anyone's grandma.

OK. I'm calling your shrink.

Please don't.

- I actually feel quite uplifted.
- Oh, you feel uplifted?

Yes.

And powerful.

I'm not resisting,
I'm accepting.

Damn true what they say about cancer.
It gets your priorities straight.

If that's what you want.

It is.

I better call Dr Ambrose.

- Tell him we're holding off...
- Not holding off, Nancy.

We're calling the
whole thing off.

- OK?
- OK.

That was not what I meant.

Aren't you scared?

I wish I could say I wasn't.

Then do something
about it, coward.

I'm not a coward.

What's the matter?
Is this too hard for you?

Are you scared, you wanna go home?
Well, tough shit, missus!

Welcome to cancer.

Judy...

You know, my doctor only gave me
two years, two years!

That was six years ago.

Every new drug on the market,

every clinical trial,

every surgery...

I decided that I would be
my cancer's cancer.

And by the time I'd finished,

my cancer's gonna I
wish it was dead.

I have stage 4.

For me, it's not a matter of if,
it's when and how.

And as lovely as you
ladies are...

and you are lovely...

This isn't how I wanna spend
the time I have left.

Well... how do you
want to spend it?

Well, I can tell you one thing.

I'm gonna eat 25 years' worth
of carbs.

I'm not joking.

OK, so this is so great.
So you grab a sponge cake

and then you come back here
to have your chemo.

No.

There's so much more.

I know.

One last grand love affair.

Just like in the movies.

Oh, no. No, no, no, no.

God, no! I've had enough love
affairs to last three lifetimes.

But you know what
I wouldn't mind?

One last first kiss.

Or not even the kiss, the
moment right before the kiss.

You know, when you get
all kinda tingly inside

and you get butterflies
in your belly.

And you feel like
just a tiny bit queasy.

Oh, God, I would love
to have that feeling again.

If you enjoy being queasy...

I suggest you seriously
reconsider quitting chemo.

But what I really wanna do is...

spend time with my children.

Not doing anything special.

Just... hangin'.

So, Judy, how about you?
What are you gonna do?

Eh?

If next week is your last chemo,
if it's your last session.

Wow!

This is genuinely the first time
I've ever seen Judy speechless.

Hey, it's OK. You have plenty of
time to plan some wonderful things.

OK?

Nurse Emilia?

Nurse Emilia, where
is Dr Hanson?

Attending an emergency,
a real emergency, Ms Roth.

- Your agent's in the cafeteria.
- She's my manager,

and I don't need her,
I want Dr Hanson.

Don't we all, love!

What will your kids say
about you quitting chemo?

Erm...

I hope they'll understand.

Losing your mother is sad
but natural.

I mean, what else have
I got to give them

if not a happy memory of me?

Millions of dollars,
real estate, royalties.

OK. But besides that.

I've got nothing to leave Annie
except a wig-eating cat

and breast cancer genes.

And debts.

And she's got accepted onto
this PhD programme in Edinburgh.

It's like a really good one,
apparently.

But she's turning it down so she
can stay home and look after me.

I know I should tell her she
doesn't need to but... I haven't.

Forget it. She's not going.

Easier to separate
conjoined twins.

You think you know everything.

You know, before cancer...

Annie hadn't spoken to me
for five years.

- What?
- What?

Seventeen to twenty-two,
not a word.

She moved into a friend's house
in the next street.

Why? What had you done to her?

I'm sorry.

Oh, I've got the full house
of excuses.

You know, I was a single mum,
I was young.

I didn't particularly change
my lifestyle when I had her.

I just...

I just wasn't that into it.

I wasn't into her. Just...

wasn't into being Annie's mum.

I know it sounds awful.

But then the universe
threw me one last lifeline.

A lump in my breast,

that gave us both
a second chance.

Cancer worked a kind
of tragic magic.

And I love it.

I know I should tell her
to go to Edinburgh.

And yet I still don't tell her.

I guess once a shit mum...

Maybe... she's not
doing it for you.

Shitty mum or not,
you're the only mum she's got.

Maybe she wants
to spend time with you.

Well said, Ms Roth.

You know, watching all you mums
makes me feel almost fortunate.

I'm no-one's burden.

So I'm guilt-free.

And when I go...

I'm not abandoning anyone.

Oi.

What about us?

Right, Imaan?

Oh, honey!

Sweetheart, are you OK?

Come on, ladies.

Breathe in.

And out.

Abed?

Sama?

They found my tumour on
a routine pregnancy check-up.

So, thanks to being pregnant,
I was diagnosed relatively early.

Usually, I never make time to go
to the doctor for my own check-ups,

but I did it for
the baby, and...

it's what saved my
life. A miracle.

Inshallah.

So God giving you cancer
while pregnant at 26...

is God miraculously
saving your life?

Mm.

Oh, you think I don't
have questions.

Because I do.

Every night before I fall
asleep... if I fall asleep...

I lie awake and ask God
all kinds of questions.

Is this a test?

And if so, is it personal
or more like a random survey?

And why are my children
to blame?

You know... you know?

Sorry.

But I can't just stop loving God
because I got sick.

It doesn't work that way.

And now, more than ever,
whenever I'm scared or...

or I'm in pain, I have no
greater comfort than my faith.

And miracles happen.

Here we go with the
miracles again.

Can you help me out, Judy?

I was born in Auschwitz.

Three months before liberation.

And do you know what the odds were
for a baby to survive in Auschwitz?

The odds for a healthy adult
surviving in Auschwitz...

was half a percent.

Half a percent!

And a baby's odds
were a tenth of that.

One tenth of half a percent.

There's no such number.

Yet here I am.

Maybe miracles do happen.

Damn, Judy!

Now anything I say is gonna
sound stupid and childish.

So? Never stopped you before.

Oh, no, not here. It's
your holiday.

You can't keep on
doing everything.

They'll be just fine
without you.

That's exactly what
I'm scared of.

- Hey.
- Everything OK?

- Yeah, yeah. You got a minute?
- Yeah, no, it's fine.

You said to call
when I'm making lunch.

- Yeah, er, get the eggs.
- The eggs...

There you are.

- I've been waiting for you.
- Sorry, Ms Roth. Just a moment.

Ms Schwartz...

- Can we, erm?
- Come on, Doctor, spit it out.

It's still growing, isn't it?

It's not growing.

I knew it.

- Is it shrinking?
- Yes. It is.

Significantly.

And if the shrinkage continues
according to our predictions,

and I don't see why it won't...

then in two weeks, Judy,
you can be out of here.

Judy, congratulations.

What did I tell you?

Woo hoo! Go, Judy!

Judy?

Ms Schwartz, are you all right?

Hey, hey, hey. It's OK.

Did you hear what Dr Hanson
just said?

Your tumour's shrinking.

You did it.

You did it.

Well, what did you expect?

Bloody tumour!
No idea who it was dealing with.

- Poor thing.
- She's back.

Congrats, Judy.

Oh, thank you, Julia.

Yes, Ms Roth?

Yes. I'm finished, too.

I wanna stop chemotherapy.
Right now.

OK, OK.

Erm... right. Erm...

Can we...?

Come on, Doc.
What are you waiting on?

Disconnect me.

I'll put it into words
that you can understand.

If you quit chemo,
you'll regret it.

Maybe not today, maybe
not tomorrow,

but soon
and for the rest of your life.

Well...

it's a good thing the rest of my
life is only gonna be one year.

Sorry to interrupt.
Dr Hanson, the consent form

we all signed before
starting chemo says that

patients can stop treatment
at any time.

It does?

- Is that true?
- Why are you helping her?

You know what quitting
means for her.

Yeah, well, it is
her legal right.

Yes, it is. Thanks.

Yes, and it's also your right
to have your doctor

make sure you're not putting
your life at risk.

- My life is at risk.
- Yes, exactly.

Exactly,
and in a situation like this,

it's very normal to have
feelings of anxiety and fear,

- as you must be feeling...
- No, no.

Don't you give me your bedroom-eyes,
soft-voice, sexy-accent thing.

That might work on them, but I
simply do not have time for that.

I have stage 4 cancer.

Yes, I'm aware of that, yes.

But even at your stage, you
can afford another half an hour

- just to think things through.
- But it's my right.

And it'll still be your right
in 30 minutes.

- Wait. No!
- I'll come back then,

- and we can discuss it.
- No, you gotta disconnect me!

Come... Fuck him!

Who the hell does
he think he is?

- Hello?
- Barnie.

- Who is this?
- Julia.

Julia, what time is it?

Listen carefully.
I'm being held against my will

at the Grove Memorial Clinic,

attached to highly-toxic
chemotherapy by Dr Ben Hanson.

- Julia, are you joking?
- No, I'm not joking.

I need you to call your London office
and have someone sent over here.

- What are you doing?
- Get Emilia.

You could get Dr Hanson fired.

Fired? I'm gonna get him
thrown in jail.

What are you talking about?

He is saving our lives.

I thought that was God?

Please don't talk
to her like that.

You spoiled, ungrateful...

Hollywood has-been,
yeah, I know I heard you before.

- Well, guess what...
- What's going on?

Thank goodness!
She's gone completely nuts.

If you don't disconnect me now,
I swear I'm gonna make sure...

Your agent asked us
not to do anything

until she gets hold
of your shrink.

- What are you talking about?
- It's her manager.

- Oh, right, sorry.
- Fuck that!

What did she say? Tell me.

That you'd been emotionally
fragile

and consumed a large dosage
of tranquillisers

and alcohol over the weekend,

and have a history
of mental instability...

Who did she talk to?

Well, me, Dr Hanson,
the hospital trust...

and the tea lady, I think.

Regardless, we strongly advise

against terminating treatment
mid session.

I'm here, Jules.

I begged Hanson to come
but that jerk is just...

I'll get Dr Hanson.

You told them
I was mentally unstable?

Jules, calm down...

What, are you mad at me for
messing up your comeback plans?

I told you not to stay comeback.
You never left.

I'm not talking about me.
I'm talking about you.

- What?
- Look at you.

All in your element again.

Phone calls, media exposure,

talking to my doctors behind my
back, just like the good old days.

My cancer's the best thing
that's ever happened to you.

OK, you are crazy.

I'm not crazy. I made a choice.

It's a stupid choice.

One that you'll regret
by tomorrow.

If not this afternoon.

Who are you to decide?

Who am I to decide?

Are you kidding me?

Where have you been
for the past three decades?

Who am I?

I'm the one cleaning up,

after every stupid, childish,
irrational choice you make,

that's who I am,
you self-centred lunatic.

I'm the one who goes,
"I'll fix it, Jules,"

then runs backstage
to do damage control

and pick up the pieces
after Hurricane Julia.

I'm the one who flies down to
Cabo on your wedding night,

after you've sobered up.

And I'm the one taking care
of the annulment

and handling the press

while making sure
you don't OD over it.

I'm the one who goes
to Nate's parents' weekends

so that you don't miss
an award ceremony,

and spend that entire weekend
talking him into forgiving you.

Yeah. Oh, and of course,
I'm the one

who gets a tattoo
for her 40th birthday...

at fucking 37.

That's who I am.
And that's why I get to decide

that quitting chemo is the most
batshit-crazy and delusional idea

you ever came up with
and that we're not doing that.

Bullshit.

You're just scared
of me leaving.

You're scared of being alone.

Yeah. Yeah, yeah.

Of course, I am, you idiot.
I'm terrified.

Well, you don't get
to be terrified.

I'm the one who's
dying of cancer.

Not you.

Stop feeding off of my drama.

And get a life.

You leech.

Fuck you.

Go ahead.

Kill yourself.

SOBBING

SOBBING

Do you want to try
going on holiday again, Julia?

Hm?

Come on.

Where are we?

I don't know, Mikey.

Seems to me...

you're in a chemo room
for the third time...

fighting a disease
that keeps coming back,

stuck with a Hollywood has-been,

who just wants to get
the hell outta here.

Nope. That's not it.

So what were you saying about
eating 25 years' worth of carbs?

It's beautiful.

Thank you.

Oh!

Look at that!

Do you think she's gonna be OK?

Yeah, give her a moment.

Carbs can cure anything.

Except cancer.

Oh, my God!

What did I tell you?

You really are Dr Good Vibes.

So why did you stop
making movies?

You think stage 4's terminal?

You should try being a woman
in Hollywood over 50.

- So sorry.
- Me too.

But if it's over...

- thisis the way to go.
- Right?

Oh, my gosh!

I love those.

I used to look at them in Paris
all the time.

What?

How did you...

Guess I'm one stubborn
leech, huh?

You know, we could really do
with that Nancy leech

for our next frog expedition.
Don't you think?

Here you go.

- Do you take sugar?
- Do I take sugar?

This wasn't the plan, Jules.

That was the plan.

And I need you to stick with it.

Add those circles up.

But on your birthday, not mine.

I insist, Nance.

You insist? So I'm supposed to follow
your orders even when you're dead?

Talk about leeches, Jules!

Fuck you. Call it a dying wish.

That's what it's called, is it?
And also fuck you.

There is something I, erm...

really do need you to do for me,
Nancy.

What's that?

I need you to be
the grandmother.

Jesus, Jules.

You know...

every kid needs a wacky
grandmother.

And Jack's mum
is just way too straight.

Are you insane?

You told them that
I'm holding you hostage?

- Listen up, buddy...
- Nance.

I've got this.

Yes. You're holding me
against my will,

and these are my chains.

All right, enough of the drama.
This isn't one of your films.

If it were,
they'd totally kiss at the end.

- Is everything OK here?
- I insist you unplug me, now!

Why don't you fight cancer
the way you fight treatment?

So you can go home
and change your mind?

I'm not gonna change my mind,
I swear.

I'll sign anything
you want me to.

Well, you can't sign anything
in your state.

Oh, he's right, actually. Erm...

any statement you sign now
wouldn't be valid,

because you're under the influence
of some very strong drugs.

So, because of the drugs I'm on,
I'm not competent

to decide to come off
the drugs I'm on?

Are you serious?

As we already told
your agent, it's...

You know what you
are? A cancerist.

- That's right, a classic cancerist.
- A what?

Oh, that's someone...

Oh, shit.
I need everyone to be quiet.

- It's Cassidy.
- Shit! I forgot to call her.

- Oh, my God.
- I'm serious.

Best chemo session ever...

Shut the fuck up!

It's my daughter.

I really need you to be quiet.

She can't know I'm here.

Mum! I found the perfect shoes
for the ceremony part.

Oh, you did? Show me.

Listen to me talking about shoes
like it's the most important thing.

Can't think of anything
more important right now.

Right? OK...

- Are you ready?
- Fill me in.

Ta-dah!

Those are so pretty!

Thanks.

Where are you, anyway?
I thought you had the fitting.

Erm... that's tomorrow.

Nance, come say hi to Cassidy.

Come on, Nance. Come say hi.

She's coming right now.

Hey, Cass-Cass. What's
up, sweetie?

Hey, Aunt Nancy.

- Are you OK?
- Yeah, I'm fine.

Yep, we're all fine.
Everything's fine.

Oh, Nance, you've got that call,
You know, you've gotta make a call.

Oh, Mum, guess what.

Jack and I can make it
on Thanksgiving after all.

You can?

Oh, but next year
we have to go to Jack's.

- Who cares about next year?
- Exactly.

OK, Mum. I love you.

I love you, doll-face.

Oh, Mum, wait.

- What is it, sweetie?
- I just...

I feel like you haven't been
completely straightforward

about just how...

amazing my wedding shoes are.

Those are the most beautiful,
one-of-a-kind white shoes

that I have ever laid my eyes on
in my entire life.

Right? Thanks for clarifying.

No problem, sweetie.

I love you.

Bye, Mum.

Wow, she's really good.

You shitting me?
That's Julia fucking Roth.

I don't wanna die.

But I am dying.

So I'd like to do
it right. My way.

With my hair, no holes in my
body, no poison in my veins.

Ever even if you think it's a...

selfish, vain choice...

Fuck it.

It's my choice.

My life, my death.

My last little attempt...

at a happy ending.

Even if I'm wrong.

I didn't say you were wrong.

What?

But I did assume that you were
making this choice in a...

in a state of anxiety and confusion
without giving it much thought.

And clearly, I was wrong.

And I'm sorry.

Come again?

Not a chance.

Right, er... let's
get you unplugged.

Really?

Really.

Right, this won't take long.

What's the rush?

MOBILE PHONE RINGING

They'll manage.

I'm in chemo.

- Yes, you are.
- Hallelujah!

Miracles do happen.

What have you done to my ward?

May I make one final request,
Dr Hanson?

Anything, Ms Roth.

Can I have my arm back?

I'm so sorry.

There's a cab outside
waiting for you, Jules.

Go back to the hotel.

I'll fix this.

Thank you, Nance.

I don't know how to say goodbye.

Well, luckily, there's protocol.

Brrrrr!

- Julia!
- Brava!

Colon cancer is torture enough.