got to do cpr for the first time this morning. it's damn hard work. you think you've been pumping for two minutes and the clock mocks you: thirty seconds. can we check for output yet? three of us formed a cpr chain. the guy made it back. cool.
started nights yesterday. it was pretty quiet. the chaos and excitement of the train crash had ebbed by the time i punched in at 10pm. the whole things sounds pretty crazy, really: what the fuck was that truck doing on the tracks? silly bugger.
*
ACT ONE, SCENE FOUR
We now find ourselves in the cafeteria. The scene is lit with a harsh fluorescent glow. There is a table with three chairs around it on the left side of the stage. A spotlight illuminates this area. In the background the former triage window now has “Kaffe Olé” written over it in an embellished neon font. GALAXY sits at the table, orientated to face the left of the stage. He pokes at a small plastic container with a plastic fork, unable or unwilling to pick up a morsel of food. He is dressed in scrubs, his other clothes having been blasted with cat shit. GINGER has washed his hair for him and swept it back over his head, creating a windblown, shifty look.
GALAXY
I have travelled far… so far…
(A microwave beeps in the background)
GALAXY
Now I stand at the end of the world, alone. Each day I awake anew, the events of the past impact not upon me. I have only the stains of memory, dried, indelible, stiffened residues. Have I not lived as a normal man? Why have the forks in my roads led me inexorably to this end? There is no life. There is no unity in experience, it is a RANDOM collection of unconnected events, each with no influence on the other. My skin is no barrier against the relentless encroachment of reality. The tendrils of mindless fate dig in to my wretched flesh. I do not swim, for I will drown.
An image of the eternal QI flashes across the scene. Scary whacked out music plays. The coins covering his eyes flip, both turning up tails.
JANE walks onto the stage and up to the window of “Kaffe Olé”. The lights soften to a warm glow. She is fairly short, dressed in a white wrap dress emblazoned with impossibly vivid sunflowers. She must have taut, muscular calves. She turns from the Kaffe window with two cups of coffee and walks towards the table.
(Technical note – the floor is actually a perforated grate. When JANE turns from the window and walks to the table, artificial grass is pushed up from underneath the stage and emerges through the perforations. Her heavenly step conjures living grass from the lifeless and besmirched cafeteria floor to suddenly create the impression that they are sitting in an open field.)
JANE sits down at the table opposite GALAXY. It is clear from the lie of her dress that she has a brilliant arse.
JANE
(Sliding the coffee over to GALAXY) You look like you could use this.
GALAXY
Thank you…
JANE
I’m JANE. One of the interns
GALAXY
I’m… (contemplates)… Dr Wong. Also one of the interns.
(Pause. A wry grin.)
We have something in common.
JANE smirks and looks off into the distance.
GALAXY
So… do you play computer games?
JANE
Hmmmm?
GALAXY
What rotation are you doing?
JANE
Surgery. My registrar is a real idiot.
GALAXY
Fuck, that is my next rotation.
JANE’S face darkens.
GALAXY
Do you like animals?
JANE
Yes! I love cats.
An image of the eternal QI flashes across the stage. He is smiling his Cheshire cat grin.
JANE
Hey, what’s your first name? I didn’t catch it.
GALAXY
It’s uh, Gary.
JANE
Are you happy Gary?
(GARY)
(Morosely, looking down at table) Gary is happy, yes.
JANE
You don’t look happy.
(GARY)
I’m having a rough night.
JANE
Well, one day we won’t have to bother with any of this. What do you want to do eventually?
(GARY)
I don’t know.
JANE
You must have some idea.
(GARY)
Well… I want to do something extraordinary.
JANE
Like what?
(GARY)
I don’t know.
JANE
Like exploring other galaxies or something?
(GARY)
I… I don’t know.
JANE
I envy you, being able to think like that at 3am on a Tuesday morning. At times like these all I can think about is travelling the world, and doing nothing of any importance whatsoever.
(GARY)
Yes, I too have travelled far…
JANE’S pager goes off.
JANE
When you do something extraordinary, let me know. (Laughs) I suppose I’ll hear about it anyway though.
GALAXY smiles painfully.
JANE
(Gets up to leave) See you round Gary.
JANE leaves the stage. The grass is withdrawn through the grate. The light turns back to a harsh fluorescence. In the background two saxophones play a minor 7th interval.
29.4.06
25.4.06
tlog part three
ACT ONE, SCENE THREE
The stage lightens to reveal control with apparently no one about. There is a faint sound of rummaging. Suddenly, from under the desk, we hear:
GALAXY
Fuck!
GALAXY stands up from under the desk, with a bluey over his head. He is holding a bag and mask in one hand and balancing a glass bowl containing goldfish in the other. He looks bewildered and frustrated.
GALAXY
Hmm… I seem to be having difficulty finding what I’m looking for.
He disappears behind the desk again the sound of rummaging is heard once again. A few seconds later, GALAXY reemerges with some towels wrapped around his head, holding a plastic model of a knee joint in one hand and a plaster saw in the other. He presses the trigger and the saw comes to life. Nevertheless, he is crestfallen. He looks left and right, clearly lost.
GALAXY
Uh, a little help? GINGER? GINGER!?
GINGER appears from one end of the stage, pulling her tight uniform around her hips and smoothing out the crumpled dress. She has sleep in her hair and that post-coital satisfaction in her eyes.
GINGER
Yes, dear?
GALAXY
Uh hi, I’m Galaxy, the intern, remember me?
GINGER
I thought your name was Uranus? Anyway, what can I do for you?
GALAXY
I’m looking for some size seven gloves? And some KY?
GINGER
Did you look under the desk?
GALAXY
(Looks at the plastic knee joint) Uh, I think so?
GINGER
Okay let me have a look for you. (Steps behind the desk and rummages) What’s all this for anyway?
GALAXY
Uh… I have to disimpact the cat in 5.
GINGER
Ah yes, I overheard. (Gives GALAXY a big wink) Well, you’re going to need a lot more than gloves and KY. Here, let me get you ready for your first arsehole adventure.
GALAXY
(Bewildered) My first what?
GINGER
(Wrapping GALAXY up in layers of surgical gowns) Arsehole adventure. Don’t you worry about a thing, my little arsehole virgin. I’ll make sure you’re water tight. Can’t do much about the smell though, sorry. We’re still waiting on that SCUBA tank to be refilled.
GALAXY
Uh… I thought all I had to do was stick my finger in and loosen the faeces?
GINGER says nothing but puts a ski mask on GALAXY’S head and some booties over his shoes.
GALAXY
(With building uncertainty) Right?
GINGER
(Leads GALAXY to the edge of the bed, where the outline of the cat cut out can be seen) Wrong. Think about the worst constipation you’ve ever had.
GALAXY thinks.
GINGER
Now think about something ten times worse. And think about it ten days later, all dried up and stuck fast. Then think about your puny, weak, untrained, unfit, virgin finger poking against that hard, dried-up, scraggy, pellety, monstrous lump of poo with tentacles wedged against all the corners of the rectum.
GALAXY’S face turns to a mask of terror. But GINGER is not finished.
GINGER
And you do know what’s dammed up behind all that hard poo, don’t you? A flood of diarrhea, that’s what. It’ll be a spray of superheated pressurized liquid faeces heading straight for your face. It’s biblical. It’s worse than the Boxing Day tsunami. All I can say is: once you dislodge that hard poo, you better make sure the pan is in position and you’re right out of the way. Otherwise you’ll be scrubbing your face for a long time.
GALAXY nods weakly. He holds up his double gloved finger. Looks at it resignedly. And gingerly reaches for the cat’s behind. As his finger reaches the cat,
Light fades.
And suddenly, from the darkness, we hear GALAXY’S scream.
The stage lightens to reveal control with apparently no one about. There is a faint sound of rummaging. Suddenly, from under the desk, we hear:
GALAXY
Fuck!
GALAXY stands up from under the desk, with a bluey over his head. He is holding a bag and mask in one hand and balancing a glass bowl containing goldfish in the other. He looks bewildered and frustrated.
GALAXY
Hmm… I seem to be having difficulty finding what I’m looking for.
He disappears behind the desk again the sound of rummaging is heard once again. A few seconds later, GALAXY reemerges with some towels wrapped around his head, holding a plastic model of a knee joint in one hand and a plaster saw in the other. He presses the trigger and the saw comes to life. Nevertheless, he is crestfallen. He looks left and right, clearly lost.
GALAXY
Uh, a little help? GINGER? GINGER!?
GINGER appears from one end of the stage, pulling her tight uniform around her hips and smoothing out the crumpled dress. She has sleep in her hair and that post-coital satisfaction in her eyes.
GINGER
Yes, dear?
GALAXY
Uh hi, I’m Galaxy, the intern, remember me?
GINGER
I thought your name was Uranus? Anyway, what can I do for you?
GALAXY
I’m looking for some size seven gloves? And some KY?
GINGER
Did you look under the desk?
GALAXY
(Looks at the plastic knee joint) Uh, I think so?
GINGER
Okay let me have a look for you. (Steps behind the desk and rummages) What’s all this for anyway?
GALAXY
Uh… I have to disimpact the cat in 5.
GINGER
Ah yes, I overheard. (Gives GALAXY a big wink) Well, you’re going to need a lot more than gloves and KY. Here, let me get you ready for your first arsehole adventure.
GALAXY
(Bewildered) My first what?
GINGER
(Wrapping GALAXY up in layers of surgical gowns) Arsehole adventure. Don’t you worry about a thing, my little arsehole virgin. I’ll make sure you’re water tight. Can’t do much about the smell though, sorry. We’re still waiting on that SCUBA tank to be refilled.
GALAXY
Uh… I thought all I had to do was stick my finger in and loosen the faeces?
GINGER says nothing but puts a ski mask on GALAXY’S head and some booties over his shoes.
GALAXY
(With building uncertainty) Right?
GINGER
(Leads GALAXY to the edge of the bed, where the outline of the cat cut out can be seen) Wrong. Think about the worst constipation you’ve ever had.
GALAXY thinks.
GINGER
Now think about something ten times worse. And think about it ten days later, all dried up and stuck fast. Then think about your puny, weak, untrained, unfit, virgin finger poking against that hard, dried-up, scraggy, pellety, monstrous lump of poo with tentacles wedged against all the corners of the rectum.
GALAXY’S face turns to a mask of terror. But GINGER is not finished.
GINGER
And you do know what’s dammed up behind all that hard poo, don’t you? A flood of diarrhea, that’s what. It’ll be a spray of superheated pressurized liquid faeces heading straight for your face. It’s biblical. It’s worse than the Boxing Day tsunami. All I can say is: once you dislodge that hard poo, you better make sure the pan is in position and you’re right out of the way. Otherwise you’ll be scrubbing your face for a long time.
GALAXY nods weakly. He holds up his double gloved finger. Looks at it resignedly. And gingerly reaches for the cat’s behind. As his finger reaches the cat,
Light fades.
And suddenly, from the darkness, we hear GALAXY’S scream.
21.4.06
townsville
a lush green town spread out between hills, a wetness in the air i can smell, the air really warm on the skin, taxi-drivers conversation riddled with "fucken", an ugly rocky island, lots of young families with kids. actually it felt kinda like a tropical adelaide: new buildings filled with no-one, empty streets lined with soul-less shops, and yellow street lamps.
sea-kayaking was fun. so was learning sign language - now that is random. a long lunch passionately arguing then pleasantly ignoring. v for vandetta. a morning spent at the aquarium. thanks dude.
*
ACT ONE, SCENE TWO
The stage is in total darkness. A spotlight comes on, illuminating the hunched figure of GALAXY sitting next to a phone. He is rehearsing what he is about to say to the surgical registrar.
GALAXY
Hello. It's Galaxy, one of the interns in the ED. I've got a 47 year old cat… er… lady. FUCK! Hello. It's William Osler, I've got a 47 year old woman with severe abdominal pain, washboard abdomen, red current jelly stool, and bowel infarction confirmed on high resolution MRI, get down here right away…
The phone rings. Another spotlight comes on revealing WAXY, the surgical registrar and amateur brain model. He speaks with an Azerbaijani accent untempered by many years in Australia. He is dressed in pastel scrubs. Behind him is a small bed. It contains a dishevelled GINGER.
WAXY
This is God speaking.
GALAXY
Hello?
WAXY
You are a chess piece on a giant interstellar chessboard.
GALAXY
I've got this 47 year old cat… (quietly) Fuck. Woman. With some pain.
WAXY
Ah, where is the pain?
GALAXY
It's…
WAXY
It is ok my friend. The pain is in all of us.
GALAXY
She has abdominal pain. She's been here for 20 hours. Please fucking take her.
WAXY
Abominable pain. I see. Does she have acute abdomen?
GALAXY
I've seen better.
WAXY
What is your name?
GALAXY
Galaxy Wong.
WAXY
Say again?
GALAXY
Galaxy fucking Wong
WAXY
Spell?
There is a click on the phone. The switchboard has accidentally conferenced the call with an angry family member ANNA waiting to speak to the on call intern about her father.
ANNA
Hello, I would like to speak to a doctor about my father's serious condition.
WAXY
Hello. You are woman, yes?
GALAXY
Who the fuck is this? You sound strangely familiar.
ANNA
Who is this?
GALAXY
Galaxy Wong
WAXY
Spell?
ANNA
Noooooo…
A voice comes over the ED LOUDSPEAKER:
LOUDSPEAKER
Paging Dr Battlestar Wong. Please review your cat 5 patient immediately.
WAXY
Patient is cat?
GALAXY
Uh… fuck.
WAXY
Non-human patients go under gen med.
ANNA
I wish we could have gotten along better.
GINGER
(yawning) Come back to bed.
WAXY
I am alfalfa male.
The light over WAXY and GINGER dims. Leaving GALAXY alone in a pool of light. He puts the phone down and sighs with a superhuman fatigue. In the background, 'Le Sacrifice du Terre' begins to play. A projected image appears across the whole stage. It shows GALAXY pushing a gigantic spiked ball up a steep incline. The image zooms back to reveal that the incline is in fact the nose of the eternal QI. His eyes are covered with coins. GALAXY struggles manfully with the ball, which grows bigger with each step. He now cannot move it at all, and the ball begins to roll backward slightly. Everything then gives way, GALAXY falls beneath the path of the ball and is impaled on a gigantic barbed spike. Zooming out rapidly we see the ball rolling down the nose and off the tip. A giant finger reaches up and scratches the nose of the eternal QI.
Lights dim.
sea-kayaking was fun. so was learning sign language - now that is random. a long lunch passionately arguing then pleasantly ignoring. v for vandetta. a morning spent at the aquarium. thanks dude.
*
ACT ONE, SCENE TWO
The stage is in total darkness. A spotlight comes on, illuminating the hunched figure of GALAXY sitting next to a phone. He is rehearsing what he is about to say to the surgical registrar.
GALAXY
Hello. It's Galaxy, one of the interns in the ED. I've got a 47 year old cat… er… lady. FUCK! Hello. It's William Osler, I've got a 47 year old woman with severe abdominal pain, washboard abdomen, red current jelly stool, and bowel infarction confirmed on high resolution MRI, get down here right away…
The phone rings. Another spotlight comes on revealing WAXY, the surgical registrar and amateur brain model. He speaks with an Azerbaijani accent untempered by many years in Australia. He is dressed in pastel scrubs. Behind him is a small bed. It contains a dishevelled GINGER.
WAXY
This is God speaking.
GALAXY
Hello?
WAXY
You are a chess piece on a giant interstellar chessboard.
GALAXY
I've got this 47 year old cat… (quietly) Fuck. Woman. With some pain.
WAXY
Ah, where is the pain?
GALAXY
It's…
WAXY
It is ok my friend. The pain is in all of us.
GALAXY
She has abdominal pain. She's been here for 20 hours. Please fucking take her.
WAXY
Abominable pain. I see. Does she have acute abdomen?
GALAXY
I've seen better.
WAXY
What is your name?
GALAXY
Galaxy Wong.
WAXY
Say again?
GALAXY
Galaxy fucking Wong
WAXY
Spell?
There is a click on the phone. The switchboard has accidentally conferenced the call with an angry family member ANNA waiting to speak to the on call intern about her father.
ANNA
Hello, I would like to speak to a doctor about my father's serious condition.
WAXY
Hello. You are woman, yes?
GALAXY
Who the fuck is this? You sound strangely familiar.
ANNA
Who is this?
GALAXY
Galaxy Wong
WAXY
Spell?
ANNA
Noooooo…
A voice comes over the ED LOUDSPEAKER:
LOUDSPEAKER
Paging Dr Battlestar Wong. Please review your cat 5 patient immediately.
WAXY
Patient is cat?
GALAXY
Uh… fuck.
WAXY
Non-human patients go under gen med.
ANNA
I wish we could have gotten along better.
GINGER
(yawning) Come back to bed.
WAXY
I am alfalfa male.
The light over WAXY and GINGER dims. Leaving GALAXY alone in a pool of light. He puts the phone down and sighs with a superhuman fatigue. In the background, 'Le Sacrifice du Terre' begins to play. A projected image appears across the whole stage. It shows GALAXY pushing a gigantic spiked ball up a steep incline. The image zooms back to reveal that the incline is in fact the nose of the eternal QI. His eyes are covered with coins. GALAXY struggles manfully with the ball, which grows bigger with each step. He now cannot move it at all, and the ball begins to roll backward slightly. Everything then gives way, GALAXY falls beneath the path of the ball and is impaled on a gigantic barbed spike. Zooming out rapidly we see the ball rolling down the nose and off the tip. A giant finger reaches up and scratches the nose of the eternal QI.
Lights dim.
15.4.06
tlog part one
once upon a time on a rainy cold april evening two interns who were not at work found themselves unwilling to stir from the house to go and watch one football team (whom one of them barracks for) get thrashed by another team. so instead they decided to write a play which incidentally paid out one of their friends which is of course just fabulous. so about eight hours and countless glasses of vodka and oranges later, they came up with this piece of shit. enjoy this first scene! (soon to be followed by other equally obscene scenes)
*
THE END
This play starts from the end. It is the product of two interns who were bored out of their brains one evening. They probably should've been at work, doing some sort of mind-numbing pointless paperwork. But, alas, they were not.
The year was 2006.
Not that this has anything to do with the play.
THE LIFE OF GALAXY
(OTHERWISE KNOWN AS, HITCHHIKER'S GUIDE TO THE GALAXY)
By Chi Li and Peter Savas
ACT ONE, SCENE ONE
A drunken young Asian man is sitting at the main control of a busy suburban hospital emergency department. He is resting his head on the desktop. He is very hung over. He did not need to be there that day. His patients did not need him to be there that day. Nevertheless, he was there. Such is the futility and pointlessness of an intern's existence.
There are a few miscellaneous staff hanging about. In particular, PANAGIOTIS, a unshaven middle-aged orderly; GINGER, an blonde-haired green-eyed possibly-buxom Irish nurse; RALPH, otherwise known as WANKER, who is the excuse for security around the place.
Control is at the centre of the stage, and PANAGIOTIS is sitting at the computer checking out his share prices. To the left of stage is a window with a sign reading TRIAGE above it. RALPH is leaning against a wall near this window, flicking through a well-read softcore porn magazine. At the other end of the stage is a hospital bed, surrounded by other associated emergency department paraphernalia, where GINGER is busy doing not much at all.
LOUDSPEAKER
Dr Wong please come to triage. Repeat, can Dr Nebula Wong please come to triage.
Galaxy turns his head with much reluctance, without lifting his head off the table, such that his ear is directed toward the loudspeaker.
LOUDSPEAKER
Dr Wong please come to triage. Repeat, can Dr Milky Way Wong please come to triage.
GALAXY
(To himself) FUCK!
Stirring himself from his desk with great difficulty, Galaxy trudges towards the side of the stage where GINGER is standing.
PANAGIOTIS
(Pointing to the other end of the stage, without looking up from the computer) Nah mate I think you want to go that way mate.
GALAXY
(Grunts) FUCK!
Galaxy turns around slowly, with great difficulty, and makes his way over to the other side of the stage.
VOICEOVER
Hi doctor we've got a cat 5 in the bay three with abdominal pain for you.
GALAXY
(Resigned) Have a nice day.
VOICEOVER
Have a very nice day.
GALAXY
No, have a very very nice day.
VOICEOVER
Why thank you.
Galaxy smirks and picks up some paperwork. An unreasonable amount of paperwork for a new cat 5 patient. In fact, it is so unreasonable he carries it in a milk crate. He heads over to the middle of the stage, where the bed is. GINGER pops up a cut out of a cat.
GINGER
Oh hi there Dr XP-3592! This is Mrs Pnong Phem Diou. I'm afraid she doesn’t seem to speak much English. Do you speak Mongolian, by any chance?
GALAXY
(Dropping the milk crate on the floor) I don't think Mrs Diou speaks Mongolian either. In fact, what the fuck, she is a cat!
MRS DIOU
(In a heavy Vietnamese accent) Meow.
GINGER
(Offended, placing her hands on her hips emphatically, the crease in her uniform accentuating her possibly large breasts) What do you mean? She is a cat 5 patient with abdominal pain! A real patient with real problems!
GALAXY
No, she's a fucking cat.
MRS DIOU
Meow!
GALAXY
(Shrugs) Yeah whatever. (Picks up some paperwork from the crate) So Mrs Diou what can I do for you today?
MRS DIOU
Meow.
GALAXY
(Rapid-fire) Right right I see. And where exactly is this pain? Is it burning? Is it dull? Or is it in fact, rather sharp? Does it radiate to your left arm or your throat or perhaps your back? Tell me, does anything make it better or worse? How long has the pain been there for? On the scale of zero to ten, where zero is no pain at all and ten is the worst pain you can imagine, how bad would you say the pain is?
MRS DIOU
Meow.
GALAXY
Uh-huh uh-huh. And who is at home with you?
MRS DIOU
Meow.
GALAXY
Oh really? That must be very difficult for you. (A moment of very awkward silence ensues) Em. Right. So. Uh. I think we need to get some. Uh. Scans of your tummy. That's it. A CAT scan of you abdomen. Right.
MRS DIOU
Meow.
It is at this point JIM enters the stage from the end of the triage window. JIM is the senior registrar on the floor today. He is a neurotic man in his late twenties wearing a very colourful tie with shoes that completely do not match. JIM sleeps very little. His hands shake from ten cups of coffee consumed in rapid succession. He is in his final year of advanced training and belongs to the new school of emergency physicians who are obsessed with costing and evidence.
GINGER
(Bats her eyelashes at JIM and sticks out her possibly large chest) Good morning Dr Jim!
JIM
Hi GINGER. Hi - uh - doctor. What's your name again?
GALAXY
Galaxy. I'm one of the new interns here.
JIM
Uh right. So what's happening here?
GALAXY
Uh. Well Mrs Diou is a 47 year old cat who presented with a two day history of worsening colicky abdominal pain. She has a background of diverticular disease.
JIM
Right and what are your differential diagnoses?
GALAXY
Uh… appendicitis?
JIM
In a 47 year old?
GALAXY
Uh yes yes of course not. Uh… (long pause) Von den Spoonerfaben's disease?
JIM
And have you any idea what the incidence of Von den Spoonerfaben's disease in Australia is?
GALAXY
Uh… no?
JIM
About one in three million. What are the other features of Von den Spoonderfaben's disease you would expect to find in this lady?
GALAXY
Look I fucking don't know alright you snobbish up-yourself fuck! Just because you've nearly finished your bloody training doesn’t mean you can make me feeling like an incompetent dick, you fuck!
JIM
(Has completely failed to register the outburst) So what about constipation?
GALAXY
(Exasperated) What?
JIM
Do you think she could have constipation?
GALAXY
Uh… I guess.
JIM
So how would you confirm this?
GALAXY
Uh… do a CAT scan?
JIM
A WHAT?!
GALAXY
A CAT scan. You know, put her through a multi-slice X-ray thing.
JIM
I know what a CAT scan is! Have you any idea how much a CAT scan costs?
GALAXY
Uh… about three dollars?
JIM
Try three hundred dollars! Three hundred and nine dollars, to be exact! Now why would you do a CAT scan to confirm constipation, when you can just stick your finger up her arse and find out the same thing?
GALAXY
Uh… well, because I'd rather not stick my finger up anyone's arse?
JIM
You'd rather not what?
GALAXY
Forget it. (Nods to RALPH) Wanker!
RALPH puts down his softcore porn magazine and saunters over to the bay.
RALPH
Yeah what do you want?
GALAXY
You want to stick your finger up a cat's arse?
RALPH
(Shrugs) What again?
Lights dim.
*
THE END
This play starts from the end. It is the product of two interns who were bored out of their brains one evening. They probably should've been at work, doing some sort of mind-numbing pointless paperwork. But, alas, they were not.
The year was 2006.
Not that this has anything to do with the play.
THE LIFE OF GALAXY
(OTHERWISE KNOWN AS, HITCHHIKER'S GUIDE TO THE GALAXY)
By Chi Li and Peter Savas
ACT ONE, SCENE ONE
A drunken young Asian man is sitting at the main control of a busy suburban hospital emergency department. He is resting his head on the desktop. He is very hung over. He did not need to be there that day. His patients did not need him to be there that day. Nevertheless, he was there. Such is the futility and pointlessness of an intern's existence.
There are a few miscellaneous staff hanging about. In particular, PANAGIOTIS, a unshaven middle-aged orderly; GINGER, an blonde-haired green-eyed possibly-buxom Irish nurse; RALPH, otherwise known as WANKER, who is the excuse for security around the place.
Control is at the centre of the stage, and PANAGIOTIS is sitting at the computer checking out his share prices. To the left of stage is a window with a sign reading TRIAGE above it. RALPH is leaning against a wall near this window, flicking through a well-read softcore porn magazine. At the other end of the stage is a hospital bed, surrounded by other associated emergency department paraphernalia, where GINGER is busy doing not much at all.
LOUDSPEAKER
Dr Wong please come to triage. Repeat, can Dr Nebula Wong please come to triage.
Galaxy turns his head with much reluctance, without lifting his head off the table, such that his ear is directed toward the loudspeaker.
LOUDSPEAKER
Dr Wong please come to triage. Repeat, can Dr Milky Way Wong please come to triage.
GALAXY
(To himself) FUCK!
Stirring himself from his desk with great difficulty, Galaxy trudges towards the side of the stage where GINGER is standing.
PANAGIOTIS
(Pointing to the other end of the stage, without looking up from the computer) Nah mate I think you want to go that way mate.
GALAXY
(Grunts) FUCK!
Galaxy turns around slowly, with great difficulty, and makes his way over to the other side of the stage.
VOICEOVER
Hi doctor we've got a cat 5 in the bay three with abdominal pain for you.
GALAXY
(Resigned) Have a nice day.
VOICEOVER
Have a very nice day.
GALAXY
No, have a very very nice day.
VOICEOVER
Why thank you.
Galaxy smirks and picks up some paperwork. An unreasonable amount of paperwork for a new cat 5 patient. In fact, it is so unreasonable he carries it in a milk crate. He heads over to the middle of the stage, where the bed is. GINGER pops up a cut out of a cat.
GINGER
Oh hi there Dr XP-3592! This is Mrs Pnong Phem Diou. I'm afraid she doesn’t seem to speak much English. Do you speak Mongolian, by any chance?
GALAXY
(Dropping the milk crate on the floor) I don't think Mrs Diou speaks Mongolian either. In fact, what the fuck, she is a cat!
MRS DIOU
(In a heavy Vietnamese accent) Meow.
GINGER
(Offended, placing her hands on her hips emphatically, the crease in her uniform accentuating her possibly large breasts) What do you mean? She is a cat 5 patient with abdominal pain! A real patient with real problems!
GALAXY
No, she's a fucking cat.
MRS DIOU
Meow!
GALAXY
(Shrugs) Yeah whatever. (Picks up some paperwork from the crate) So Mrs Diou what can I do for you today?
MRS DIOU
Meow.
GALAXY
(Rapid-fire) Right right I see. And where exactly is this pain? Is it burning? Is it dull? Or is it in fact, rather sharp? Does it radiate to your left arm or your throat or perhaps your back? Tell me, does anything make it better or worse? How long has the pain been there for? On the scale of zero to ten, where zero is no pain at all and ten is the worst pain you can imagine, how bad would you say the pain is?
MRS DIOU
Meow.
GALAXY
Uh-huh uh-huh. And who is at home with you?
MRS DIOU
Meow.
GALAXY
Oh really? That must be very difficult for you. (A moment of very awkward silence ensues) Em. Right. So. Uh. I think we need to get some. Uh. Scans of your tummy. That's it. A CAT scan of you abdomen. Right.
MRS DIOU
Meow.
It is at this point JIM enters the stage from the end of the triage window. JIM is the senior registrar on the floor today. He is a neurotic man in his late twenties wearing a very colourful tie with shoes that completely do not match. JIM sleeps very little. His hands shake from ten cups of coffee consumed in rapid succession. He is in his final year of advanced training and belongs to the new school of emergency physicians who are obsessed with costing and evidence.
GINGER
(Bats her eyelashes at JIM and sticks out her possibly large chest) Good morning Dr Jim!
JIM
Hi GINGER. Hi - uh - doctor. What's your name again?
GALAXY
Galaxy. I'm one of the new interns here.
JIM
Uh right. So what's happening here?
GALAXY
Uh. Well Mrs Diou is a 47 year old cat who presented with a two day history of worsening colicky abdominal pain. She has a background of diverticular disease.
JIM
Right and what are your differential diagnoses?
GALAXY
Uh… appendicitis?
JIM
In a 47 year old?
GALAXY
Uh yes yes of course not. Uh… (long pause) Von den Spoonerfaben's disease?
JIM
And have you any idea what the incidence of Von den Spoonerfaben's disease in Australia is?
GALAXY
Uh… no?
JIM
About one in three million. What are the other features of Von den Spoonderfaben's disease you would expect to find in this lady?
GALAXY
Look I fucking don't know alright you snobbish up-yourself fuck! Just because you've nearly finished your bloody training doesn’t mean you can make me feeling like an incompetent dick, you fuck!
JIM
(Has completely failed to register the outburst) So what about constipation?
GALAXY
(Exasperated) What?
JIM
Do you think she could have constipation?
GALAXY
Uh… I guess.
JIM
So how would you confirm this?
GALAXY
Uh… do a CAT scan?
JIM
A WHAT?!
GALAXY
A CAT scan. You know, put her through a multi-slice X-ray thing.
JIM
I know what a CAT scan is! Have you any idea how much a CAT scan costs?
GALAXY
Uh… about three dollars?
JIM
Try three hundred dollars! Three hundred and nine dollars, to be exact! Now why would you do a CAT scan to confirm constipation, when you can just stick your finger up her arse and find out the same thing?
GALAXY
Uh… well, because I'd rather not stick my finger up anyone's arse?
JIM
You'd rather not what?
GALAXY
Forget it. (Nods to RALPH) Wanker!
RALPH puts down his softcore porn magazine and saunters over to the bay.
RALPH
Yeah what do you want?
GALAXY
You want to stick your finger up a cat's arse?
RALPH
(Shrugs) What again?
Lights dim.
11.4.06
intern gastritis
annual leave means i get to sleep ten hours a day.
the first problem with this is: the more i sleep, the more tired i am. now i'm sneaking in an hour nap in the afternoon. and yet i remain lethargic. i see now what lou was going through last week. fortunately the kitchen at yuille house sucks and i do not itch to go to coles everyday. however, i did buy the hitchhiker's omnibus yesterday and have nearly finished the first of the trilogy of four. i am also spending excessive amounts of my time playing indoor lawn bowls. not good.
the second problem, of course, is this intern gastritis business. strictly speaking, it started before internship. epigastric tenderness. reflux. and now nausea and loss of appetite. this ppi thing isn't helping that much. i think i may need a scope. *sigh*
looking for a house to live in atm. i'm going to visit a couple more likely candidates this afternoon. and then i'll get to spend more money buying new beds and desks and useless decorative things. hopefully they come with free drinks. boing!
the first problem with this is: the more i sleep, the more tired i am. now i'm sneaking in an hour nap in the afternoon. and yet i remain lethargic. i see now what lou was going through last week. fortunately the kitchen at yuille house sucks and i do not itch to go to coles everyday. however, i did buy the hitchhiker's omnibus yesterday and have nearly finished the first of the trilogy of four. i am also spending excessive amounts of my time playing indoor lawn bowls. not good.
the second problem, of course, is this intern gastritis business. strictly speaking, it started before internship. epigastric tenderness. reflux. and now nausea and loss of appetite. this ppi thing isn't helping that much. i think i may need a scope. *sigh*
looking for a house to live in atm. i'm going to visit a couple more likely candidates this afternoon. and then i'll get to spend more money buying new beds and desks and useless decorative things. hopefully they come with free drinks. boing!
5.4.06
i hate emergency
the pros:
- i only work 40 hours a week
- all the skills that i'm learning
- i get to leave the arseholes behind at the end of my shift
the cons:
- the lack of continuity of care
- my screwed up sleep-wake cycle
- the arseholes that i meet at the start of my shift
the role of an emergency doctor can be summed in two questions:
1. is the patient sick?
- if so, proceed to question 2.
- if not, make some noises and get rid of them.
2. does the patient need to be admitted?
- if so, get the medical/surgical registrar/ECATT/O+G/paeds, do what needs to be done, and get rid of them.
- if not, give analgesia/antiemetics/rehydration/plaster, and get rid of them.
welcome to the medical meat grinder =(
- i only work 40 hours a week
- all the skills that i'm learning
- i get to leave the arseholes behind at the end of my shift
the cons:
- the lack of continuity of care
- my screwed up sleep-wake cycle
- the arseholes that i meet at the start of my shift
the role of an emergency doctor can be summed in two questions:
1. is the patient sick?
- if so, proceed to question 2.
- if not, make some noises and get rid of them.
2. does the patient need to be admitted?
- if so, get the medical/surgical registrar/ECATT/O+G/paeds, do what needs to be done, and get rid of them.
- if not, give analgesia/antiemetics/rehydration/plaster, and get rid of them.
welcome to the medical meat grinder =(
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