“Mr Sunak…. Mr Sunak….”
“Uh, yeah? Wha’?”
“Ah, you’re with us, Mr Sunak. Good. And how are you today?”
“Where am I?”
“Hospital, Mr Sunak.”
“What??!!”
“ ICU, to be precise. Been here quite a while, too.”
“But…”
“Almost six months. It’s a miracle you’re with us at all.”
“What happened?”
“An accident, Mr Sunak. An unfortunate accident. Nothing you could have done.”
“I don’t understand…”
“Brake failure on an articulated lorry, I’m afraid. Rarely ends well for pedestrians.”
“Oh god.”
“And… you were the pedestrian.”
“Was I badly hurt?”
“Amazing you’re here to have this conversation to be honest. I mean, the list of injuries…”
“Oh god.”
“Quite extensive. Multiple rib fractures… two broken legs…”
“Things hurt.”
“Shattered collar bone… broken pelvis… we had to amputate your right arm…”
“Noooo!”
“Yes. Six months in a coma, Mr Sunak. Six months! Incredible.”
“When can I go home?”
“Home? Ah. Yes. Well…”
“What do you mean, ‘Well…’?”
“There’s good news and bad news on that front.”
“What?”
“Which would you like first?”
“What??”
“Which would you like first? The good news?”
“Er…”
“Or the bad news?”
“Ummm…”
“Entirely up to you, of course.”
“Er…”
“I don’t mean to hurry you, but I have got other people to see…”
“Oh god…. the bad news! Let’s have the bad news first!”
“A wise choice, Mr Sunak. A wise choice.”
“So?”
“So, what?”
“The bad news?”
“Ah, yes. The bad news….”
“Spit it out, man!”
“The bad news, Mr Sunak, is that you won’t be going home.”
“But…”
“The clinical staff have considered your case, and I’m afraid you’re simply non-viable.”
“Non-viable??!!”
“That’s the long and the short of it, yes.”
“You must be able to do something!”
“We cannot save every life, Mr Sunak.”
“But…”
“We cannot save very existence.”
“This is outrageous!”
“The primary goal of our health policy remains unchanged…”
“I should bloody well hope so!”
“…and in an ideal world, I’m sure we could do more.”
“So do it!”
“But we are where we are.”
“Please… help me…”
“My hands are tied, Mr Sunak.”
“I’ll be back on my feet in no time!”
“Foot.”
“What?”
“Foot. Singular.”
“Oh god.”
“Should have said earlier. Sorry.”
“You can’t just write me off.”
“We cannot save every life, Mr Sunak. We cannot save very existence.”
“Just a bit more support…”
“No can do, I’m afraid.”
“Just a little longer…”
“Sorry. As of tomorrow, we’re reducing the support for non-viables.”
“You can’t!!”
“From here on, you’ll be getting 22% of your normal calorific intake…”
“What?”
“To be reviewed after another three months…”
“I can’t live on that!”
“Reviewed downwards, should you still be with us.”
“You can’t do this!”
“I wish you all the best from here on, of course.”
“But…”
“Something will turn up. Probably.”
“Oh god…”
“Anyway, been nice chatting to you, but I must get on.”
“But, doctor…”
“Oh, I’m not a doctor, Mr Sunak. I’m just the volunteer who serves the tea, brings a little joy into the lives of people stuck here in ICU.”
“Joy???”
“It’s not quite got the same buzz as stage management, but needs must, Mr Sunak. We cut our cloth accordingly, do we not? And now I must get on with my rounds.”
“Hold on!”
“Goodbye.”
“Wait! You mentioned good news. What’s the good news?”
“The good news?”
“Yes.”
“For you, Mr Sunak? None whatsoever.”
“But you said…”
“I did, didn’t I? It appears I may have misspoken.”
“Eh?”
“But this little chat has brightened up my day no end.”
“You bastard!!”
“Do try and see the positive, Mr Sunak. And seize the moment.”
“What??!!”
“After all, you’ve not got many left.”
