tlog part nine

ACT THREE, SCENE ONE

GALAXY sits in the residents’ quarters towards the end of a long cover shift. The TV is blaring. GALAXY is slumped on the couch, extremely tired. Around his neck is a thick chain with a large, brick like pager. It has a large bell and hammer on it. The security guard RALPH is also sitting on the couch.

RALPH
(On the phone) Hello, switchboard? Can I have a 1900 number please?

GALAXY’S pager rings like a school bell. He swears loudly.

GALAXY
FUCK!

He grasps the handle on one side and begins winding vigorously. The ringing stops and a small print out emerges. GALAXY peruses it.

GALAXY
Another fucking IV resite…

RALPH
(Into the phone) Hello baby? Yes my name is RALPH. I’m a doctor. Yeah of course I’m a real one, save little kids and everything. So tell me, what are you wearing?

Lights dim.

Lights come back on to reveal a patient in their cubicle. MARTHA is 97 years old and confused. She is having hallucinations, pointing around at the bare walls randomly. There is blood all over the sheets from when she pulled out her previous IV.

GALAXY plods in from the right of stage wheeling an IV trolley.

GALAXY
Hello. My name is GALAXY, I’m one of the doctors. I have come to put a drip in.

MARTHA
NOOOOOO! (Throws herself back into bed) Stay away!

GALAXY
(Sigh) Come on Mrs… whatever. It’s just a small needle.

GALAXY walks over to the side of the bed and tries to take MARTHA’S arm. She hisses at him.

MARTHA
You… parrot-eater. Stay away. I can see the feathers in your mouth.

GALAXY tries to apply the tourniquet.

MARTHA
No, what are you doing, get away from me! Get away!

GALAXY
Fucking hell, I… (Pauses) Martha, you are in hell.

MARTHA
Say what?

GALAXY
(With the voice from the crypt) You died. You’re dead. And you’ve gone to hell.

MARTHA
Oh… but… why?

GALAXY

For fucks sake I don’t know. I don’t why I am here either. The fact is you are eternally damned. And I have to put this drip in. So you can have the unspeakable torture that is… (Looks at fluid chart) Normal Saline. 24 hourly.

MARTHA
24 hourly? Not 24 hourly! Anything but 24 hourly! Oh dear… So who are you then? The devil? (Cackles) You look a bit harmless for the devil.

GALAXY
I am also in hell.

MARTHA
What did you do then, that was so bad?

GALAXY
If only… I knew. Your arm please.

MARTHA
How bad is this Normal-Saline-24-hourly?

GALAXY
Actually, it isn’t too bad. It’s more to keep you alive so we can perpetrate even more unfathomable horrors on your person.

MARTHA
I refuse!

GALAXY
You can’t… er… the vile Poororal, commands you. Besides, it’s hell, what are you going to do? Discharge yourself?

MARTHA
I don’t like needles.

GALAXY
You have to understand that doesn’t matter. We are in hell. What we like or don’t like, what we want to do, what we don’t want to do is irrelevant. Someone or something else makes the decisions.

MARTHA looks away. She begins to cry, moaning loudly. GINGER hears the sound and walks in to the cubicle.

GINGER
What is going on here?

MARTHA
I’m in hell! Help me, I’m in hell!

GINGER
(Scowls at GALAXY, which somehow makes her possibly large breasts even more prominent) It’s all right dear. You aren’t in hell - you’re in hospital. We’re all trying to help you.

MARTHA
He said I was in hell, and he is going to torture me!

GINGER
Did he now?

GALAXY
I…

GINGER
What was your name again, doctor? Betelgeuse? Something like that?

GALAXY
Gary. Gary Chiang.

WAXY enters the stage.

WAXY
Spell?

MARTHA
It’s an angel! Come to save me, from Poororal!

GINGER
Who?

GALAXY
Fuck!

WAXY
GINGER, baby, lets get down to my quarters. I think it’s about time you put the drip in, sun.

GALAXY
What are you even fucking doing here man?

WAXY
What does it look like? (Slaps GINGER on her generous rump)

GINGER
Ooooh! I’m not sure I can leave the patient with this guy…
(Glares at GALAXY)

WAXY
Relax, he’s great, he’s the best intern in universe, whatever.

WAXY and GINGER leave GALAXY alone with MARTHA. GALAXY clenches his teeth. He grabs MARTHA’S arm, and picks up a cannula.

Lights dim.

i'm moving...

a couple of blocks down the street, closer to the pub, the supermarket and the hospital. sweet!

despite my doubts, all of a sudden, things were moving pretty fast. jono and i saw the place on tuesday, applied on wednesday, signed the lease on thursday, and got the keys yesterday. i've been running around buying furniture and hiring whitegoods. everything is arriving and getting connected on monday. it's all happening! luckily i have monday and tuesday off, so fingers crossed i'll be installed in my humble (and it certainly is that) abode by tuesday evening.

one more thing: sucked in, cheeseman!

*

ACT TWO, SCENE FOUR

We are in a bar. It's a neat little up-market affair that can be found buried amongst the lanes in the bowels of most major cities. There are the usual pink and purple light shades, the fake leather couches and ottomans, the lounge music tinkling in the air, and obligatory wanker of a barman who looks suspiciously like RALPH. On a couple of stools slightly off-centre of the stage are GALAXY and PANAGIOTIS. They are both drinking beer, and they are both a little drunk. GALAXY is wearing the uniform of the urban twenty-something's male: the tight-fitting printed T-shirt with a pointless message and dark jeans. PANAGIOTIS, on the other hand, looks surprisingly good in a dark suit with an undone bow tie, as if he has just returned from a wedding.

They sit in silence. PANAGIOTIS has retreated into the moody reserve that typifies his drunkenness. GALAXY, on the other hand, is simply exhausted. They continue to drink in silence, until:

GALAXY
I don't know.

PANAGIOTIS
Yeah, it is difficult.

GALAXY
It's been six months now and still I feel impotent.

PANAGIOTIS
Impotent? That is a very potent word, if you don't mind the pun.

GALAXY
I do.

PANAGIOTIS
Sorry.

GALAXY
That's okay. (Pauses) What are we talking about again?

PANAGIOTIS
I thought we were talking about whether or not the US is going to bomb Iran?

GALAXY
What the fuck? We were?

PANAGIOTIS
Yeah.

GALAXY
Well, why would they? They just want to make nuclear power.

PANAGIOTIS
You stupid boy. Do you really think that's all they want to do?

GALAXY
No. But. You can't just go and bomb the fuck of someone's country!

PANAGIOTIS
That's hardly the point. Iran is evil man! Once they have the bomb anything could happen!

GALAXY
Well, I still figure this is all a long way from Australia.

PANAGIOTIS
Yeah, well. (Pauses and drinks) What the hell did you think we were talking about?

GALAXY
What? Oh, life. My job.

PANAGIOTIS
Your job. Bah. You are a slave. A mindless slave.

GALAXY
I certainly don't feel like a doctor.

PANAGIOTIS
That's because you're not. You are a paperwork bitch. You are the faecal finger that digitally disimpacts. You are the poor excuse for a retractor holder. You are the human punching bag that buffers the consultants and their patient's crazy families.

GALAXY
You're right. I feel like shit.

PANAGIOTIS
Take me, for example, I am a lowly orderly. However, I am much happier than you are. My job has a defined useful purpose. I know what the purpose is. Everyone knows what that purpose is. I get an hour off for lunch. I have time to practice my saxophone to play at weddings for a hundred bucks an hour. Then I get to have a crack at the bridesmaid. My life is filled with happiness. Yours is filled with frustration and sorrow. When was the last time you had a good fuck?

GALAXY
I think I said fuck thirty-seven times today.

PANAGIOTIS
(Shakes head) See what I mean? Your penis is shrivelling with disuse.

It is at this point JANE enters the bar. She is alone. She is stunning in a red dress that shows off her runner's legs: long and brown from the sun. She exudes health and good vibes. She sees GALAXY at the bar.

JANE
Hi there. Gary, right?

GALAXY
(Is suddenly very sober) Uh yes. Am I worthy of your attention?

JANE
What? Don't be silly. Remember me? I'm JANE. We're both interns at the hospital.

GALAXY
Ah yes, our common denominator.

JANE
Who is your friend?

GALAXY
Who? PANAGIOTIS? He's not my friend, he's my wingman. I mean, yes he is my friend. He works at the hospital too.

PANAGIOTIS
Lovely to meet you, JANE. Your beauty dims all the lights of this room and all other girls pale in comparison.

JANE
Thank you.

GALAXY
Uh. He's also intellectually impaired.

PANAGIOTIS
My friend, that is grossly unfair. I simply speak the language of love. But alas, I must fly, for I have a hot little Nordic package waiting for me in a hotel room nearby. One must not keep a lady waiting. Yasou!

PANAGIOTIS tactfully retreats from the stage

GALAXY
I thought I was drunk, but now I feel strangely sober. I need another beer. Can I get you anything?

JANE
How about a cowboy?

GALAXY
I'm sorry?

JANE
Never mind. Get me a Kahlua with coke.

GALAXY
Uh sure. (Gets up to go to the bar)

RALPH magically turns up to the couple with the drinks without GALAXY having to order. GALAXY is confused but hands over some cash. RALPH retreats back to the bar.

JANE
(After taking a sip from her drink) So how's work?

GALAXY
It's a tragedy. I hate medicine.

JANE
That's a shame. We've hardly done any medicine and already you have rejected it. How can you reject something you hardly know?

GALAXY
It's… It's just that there is so much crap in the way. I feel like doing something and a hundred things thwart my attempts, belittles my struggles against the stupid system. I feel so puny and useless.

JANE
Poor Gary. (Looks deeply into his eyes) It won't always be like this. You just got to keep that fire going. If you let the system smother you, then you let them win. And we can't let that happen.

GALAXY
We… (Contemplates the situation while looking at JANE'S thighs) How are you doing this anyway? How can you stand it?

JANE
I run. Running makes me feel good again after a shit day at work. I put some good tunes on my iPod and do a few k’s. It's very therapeutic.

GALAXY
Sounds good. I haven't gone for a run since… before our finals exams last year. That's like, eight months ago.

JANE
It's important to stay fit. If your body is wasting away, how can your mind work properly? It's war out there, man! We must be prepared for those bastards.

GALAXY
You're right. (Takes a long pull at his beer, then signs) I'm so tired, though…

JANE
I'll tell you what, I run most days after work. About seven o'clock around the park next to the hospital. If you want give me a page, we'll run together.

GALAXY
Cool. That sounds great.

JANE writes her pager number on the back of a coaster and hands it to GALAXY.

JANE
Here we go. Catch you later!

JANE saunters off stage, leaving GALAXY grasping the coaster with both of his hands, his eyes lingering over the spot where JANE disappeared.

Lights fade.

the great melbourne escape

wednesday i caught the train into town. got a terrible lopsided haircut for $15, except of course i didn't know it at the time, as i was preoccupied, wondering where the organs would go in the girl who was cutting my hair, her waist being miniscule. i went to buy a pair of shoes and couldn't decide between two. so i got them both. lou would be so proud of me. galaxy and i met up for lunch at spicy fish, then we went and bought some brewing suppies. finally, we went to pick up my car from the depot in laverton. at last i was driving around on my own, in peak hour traffic, doing 6km an hour. fantastic. dinner with the gang. pete and gal weren't happy with the chilli steamboat. they had stomach pains. i think my stomach linings have already been stripped away and replaced by scars, for i didn't feel a thing.

thursday pete and i wasted a day at the local shopping centre. we spent an hour looking for a new wallet to buy. and another hour playing eighties arcade games. finally we saw the new mission impossible movie. it was good action. afterwards we went to footscray to have dinner with gal, and we rented the life aquatic dvd. it was a wonderful way to spend an evening.

today we went to the art gallery and saw a french film. it was called playtime. hilarious in the usual european manner. we did the zissou dance (ie a jig accompanied by the theme song of the movie from last night) a number of times at inappropriate locations, attracting several humorous glances. i think they must be jealous of our happiness.

*

ACT TWO, SCENE THREE

The stage is set for pre-admission clinic. There are three chairs on the left of stage, where the cafeteria scene in Act One took place. GALAXY sits across from a man in his early sixties, MR VLADMIR TOMIC. He is accompanied by his daughter, ANNA, an anaemic anorexic annoying girl in her mid-twenties. She has very proptotic eyes, which are emphasised by a pair of incredibly large, incredibly pink spectacles. The trio are in the middle of a heated discussion.

ANNA

(Waving her arms all over the place) I just don't understand why my dad needs to have this operation!

GALAXY

Uh. Well, actually I don't really know either. (Stops and quickly realizes this is less than satisfactory) Basically, we're here to make sure Mr TOMIC is fit for surgery. As an intern I'm not really here to talk about the pros and cons of the procedure. I’m sure the surgeon has already discussed all that with your father in detail -

MR TOMIC

Call me Vlad. My friends all call me Vlad. It's short for Vladmir.

GALAXY

Uh sure Vlad.

ANNA

Anyway. But what do you mean pros and cons? How can we agree to have surgery if we don't know what the pros and cons are? We don't even know what the procedure is!

GALAXY

Well, um. Let's see. (Peers down at the clipboard on his lap, flicks through several pages, and then pronounces with great difficulty) It's called pan-sigmoido-jejuno-cholecystectomy with an ileo-neocolon reconstruction.

MR TOMIC

MR WAXY assures me it will make me a new man. I shall once again have the sexual prowess of five stallions. I will be able to wield my penis like a light sabre, as I did in my younger days. Did I ever tell you that story about me and four ladies in a tin shed?

GALAXY

Uh, I'm not sure.

ANNA

Dad!

MR TOMIC

It was when you were made, my little one. Although I cannot remember which one your mother was. Let me assure you they were all very good.

ANNA

(Sighs) So tell us a bit more about this operation.

GALAXY

Well, it basically involves removing a large section of Vlad's bowels. Uh, I mean, a moderate section. Actually, what I mean is, just the necessary sections of Vlad's bowels. So that as much of the cancer is removed as possible. But because so much of the bowels are removed. Uh I mean, because it is impossible, uh, I mean, technically difficult, to rejoin the ends of the bowels, we will make a new rectum from a piece of the gut, and connect that up to the anus.

ANNA

Right. This all sound very complicated.

GALAXY

Oh not at all. We do these operations all the time. I saw one last month. I mean, yesterday.

ANNA

Okay. Well, are there any risks associated with this procedure?

GALAXY

(Immediately) None that I know of.

NATLIE

What? That sounds. Incredible.

GALAXY

Uh, well, actually there are the usual risks associated with any procedures. There are the risks of the general anaesthetic, bleeding, infection, and death. (Quickly adds) But these are all very rare.

ANNA

Death?! What?! You mean, my father may die from this operation?

GALAXY

Yeah it's a possibility. But it’s, uh, a very remote possibility. I haven't seen anyone die on the table yet. So, it's probably just a myth they tell us as junior doctors to scare us.

ANNA

(Starts to cry) We didn't know he might die from this…

GALAXY

(At a complete loss as to how to deal with this, talks to himself) Uh, when all else fails, retreat to that biopsychosocial bullshit we were taught in first year. (Turns to ANNA) Let's see, he has cancer. He is going to die anyway. So if he dies on the table, then he dies as planned, just a bit earlier.

ANNA

What are you talking about! FUCK!

GALAXY

Uh, what I mean is, psychologically speaking, your father is ready to move on. He is suffering, don't you see? He has cancer. He is already dead inside, no? This will merely be a formality. Uh, I mean, a part of the life continuum. A normal part of life, that is.

ANNA

A normal part of - (Stands up and points her finger at a startled GALAXY) You have no idea what you're talking about! What the hell are you saying? Listen to yourself! FUCK!

GALAXY

Oops. I mean, socially, if anyone had to live with an ugly daughter like yourself, they're probably better of dead anyway, wouldn't you agree? (Turns hurriedly towards MR TOMIC, looking for support) It must have been very difficult for you.

MR TOMIC

I don't know what happened. I only ever shagged good-looking women with enormous breasts who cooked fantastic bacon and eggs and were unable to speak. That's the secret to a good marriage.

ANNA

(Exasperated) This is too much! I am going to make a formal complaint about this. This is ridiculous!

GALAXY

Well, it's lucky I paid my medical indemnity insurance last month, isn't it? And my AMA membership! Did you know I can salary package these things?

Blackout.

tlog part six

ACT TWO, SCENE TWO

The reception desk has been replaced by a surgical table. On the table is a cut out of MRS DIOU, its four limbs tied to the corner of the table with rope. There is the sound of mechanical ventilation and the obligatory pointless beeping machine associated with medicine. GINGER stands towards the head of the table, acting as both scrub nurse as anaesthetist. Despite being in surgical scrubs, her possibly large breasts appear even more accentuated than ever. WAXY, covered in blood, is busy over the prone body of MRS DIOU, wielding the tools of his trade. GALAXY holds a gigantic retractor. He looks dead on his feet. The massive clock above their heads read 2230 hours.

WAXY
Artery.

GINGER hands him the artery forceps.

WAXY
Gauze.

GINGER hands him a wad of gauze. There follows a moment of silence. This is interrupted by GALAXY falling asleep and losing his grip on the retractors.

WAXY
What the fuck are you doing? Hold those damn retractors!

GALAXY
(Snaps awake) FUCK! I mean, sorry sir…

WAXY
Is this all too boring for you? (His voice builds in a crescendo) Do you not appreciate the excitement and technical difficulties of this operation? Do you not stand in awe of my astounding surgical prowess? What is wrong with you?

GALAXY
Uh no sir. I -

WAXY
(Cutting him off) Bah! How can you guys call yourself doctors? You new interns are all the same - absolutely useless! In my days we had to work and sleep on the job! Forty-hour shifts were the norm! Weekends off were unheard of! Medicine was our life! We breathed and ate and shat and fucked medicine! (Gestures with his scalpel) It was a trial by fire. We earned our right to be called doctors. Now look at you. You puny, insignificant, ignorant little worm. What good are you? You cannot even last four hours holding a retractor! Bah!

GALAXY
Well it's not exactly very stimulating holding this retractor.

WAXY
Oh, are we boring you? Would you like me to make this more interactive? Fine, I will. Tell me, what are the layers that we've cut through to reach the peritoneal cavity?

GALAXY
Uh - skin? Muscle?

WAXY
SKIN! MUSCLE! Which skin? Which muscles?

GALAXY
Uh - the abdominal skin and muscle?

WAXY
(Shakes his large Soviet head sorrowfully) And what is this structure I'm indicating with my scalpel?

GALAXY
It looks like a pink tube? Is it - Can it possibly be - the gut?

WAXY
No! It is the abdominal aorta! Don't you know any anatomy at all? Don't they teach you anything in medical school these days? (Stabs his scalpel through the air accusingly at GALAXY) What is the world coming to? How can you call yourself a man?


GALAXY
Well, you see, we are part of this new medical course…

WAXY
(Full of Azberjiani contempt) Ah yes, this new medical course. I have head about this. You spend two weeks roaming the countryside learning about volunteer car driving and appreciating community psych services. Bah! I defecate on your new medical course!

GALAXY
Can I join in? I really need to go to the bathroom.

GINGER
Doctor Wong! That is disgusting!

WAXY
Bah! Begone! I am done with the like of you! Stich up the patient with one handed Grasby ties of the European variation. It is very important. I don't want any knots! Do not let me find them messy in the morning, or I will make you retie them all again.

WAXY strides off the stage, flicking off his surgical cloves and tossing them at GALAXY. One of them hands on his head.

GALAXY
(Looking after WAXY, then turning to GINGER) What the fuck are Grasby ties?

Blackout

tlog part five

ACT TWO, SCENE ONE

The light brightens to reveal a pink ward reception desk, surrounded by the usual ward reception desk junk: flowers, cards, staplers, boxes selling lollies fundraising for another obscure cause. There is a gigantic clock overlooking all of this. The clock reads six am. There is no one about. Silence is total. It lingers on for a few more seconds, and then GALAXY walks on to the stage. He is wearing scrubs. His hair is very messy. There is a massive bit sticking up at the back but he is oblivious. His shoulders are more drooped, his gait more shuffled, his back more bent. This is a man exhausted and resigned to his horrible fate.

GALAXY
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…

VOICEOVER
Dr Wong to ward two north please. Repeat, can Doctor Asteroid Wong come to ward two north immediately!

GALAXY
FUCK!

GALAXY runs off towards one end of the stage and disappears. He reappears at the other end and stops at the reception desk. It remains deserted. He looks about. He is confused. He returns the way he came and disappears off the other end of the stage. At this point GINGER, our buxom Irish nurse strolls on to the stage and settles down behind the reception desk. From off the stage we hear…

GALAXY
Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!

GALAXY runs onto stage and stops dead. He sees GINGER. She gives him a measured look. He grins sheepishly.

GALAXY
Hi GINGER.

GINGER
(Full of ice and sarcasm) Good morning Doctor Wong. Nice of you to come along. We always wait upon your eminence's pleasure.

GALAXY
Uh… sorry I'm late I was uh busy uh picking up little bits of rubbish off the floor.

GINGER
Whatever. Here (shoves some paperwork in front of him) sign here and here and here.

GALAXY
What is this?

GINGER
(He is too stupid to live) Drug orders.

GALAXY
Why does Mrs Calloway need ten grams of ondansetron?

GINGER
She is feeling nauseous.

GALAXY
Uh. Ten grams?

GINGER
She is feeling very nauseous.

GALAXY
Uh. I don't know. Can I look up MIMS?

GINGER
Suit yourself.

GINGER drops the paperwork on the floor and walks back behind the desk. Paper scatters everywhere. GALAXY looks after GINGER incredulously, sighs, and bends over to pick up all the paperwork.

At this point WAXY virtually skips on to the stage from behind GALAXY, whistling to himself. He is wearing a suit. He knows he looks good. He knows this is his domain. He is very pleased with himself. He walks up to GALAXY, looks down at him scrambling to pick up bits of paper, winds back and gives him a massive kick on the arse.

GALAXY
FUCK!

WAXY
What are you doing on the floor you scum? Why are you picking up little bits of paper? That's the nurse's job you poor little fool! We have patients to see! How will I get to theatre if you fuck around like this? (Shakes head in disgust)

GALAXY
(Picking himself up from off the floor) I didn't drop…

WAXY
No matter. Let's go.

GALAXY
I've got to…

WAXY
Come on! (Marches off towards the end of the stage)

GALAXY
Uh…

GALAXY scrambles to sign off his drug charts and then rushes off after WAXY. GINGER looks after them with contempt.

GINGER
Bloody doctors.

VOICEOVER
Doctor Wong to ward two north please. Repeat, Doctor Dwarf Star Wong to two north immediately.

GALAXY runs on to stage.

GALAXY
Uh hello GINGER did you want something?

GINGER
I didn't page you.

GALAXY
Right. So… do you know who did?

GINGER
No.

GALAXY
Okay…

GALAXY isn't sure what to do. He does the little lost boy routine. He looks around. He is exuding hopelessness and vulnerability. GINGER simply ignores him. Finally, GALAXY decides it's not working, turns suddenly, and marches off to one end of the stage. But as soon as he is gone from view, we hear:

VOICEOVER

Respond blue, ward two north. Respond blue, ward two north. I repeat, respond blue, ward two north.

GALAXY runs on to the stage. He stops at the edge, suddenly realises that perhaps he does not want to be the first person to a code blue. He proceeds to takes large small steps towards the reception desk, but there is no one else coming. GINGER is in a fluster, trying to find the patient's folder. She sees GALAXY approaching.

GINGER
Doctor Wormhole! Doctor Wormhole! Quick -

GALAXY
Before you say anything, I should point out I have been a doctor for a mere three months, and the chance of me successfully resuscitating this patient is less than zero. The fact of the matter is, I may do more harm than good. Now where is this patient?

GINGER
Uh. Bed seventeen.

GALAXY
Take me to him! March!

GINGER
Her. It's Mrs Diou.

GALAXY
Oh no! It's the cat!

The other end of the stage lights up to reveal a cut out of a cat on the hospital bed. The cat is upside down, with its legs sticking up towards heaven. This cat is very sick. GINGER rushes to the bedside and busies herself looking helpless and distraught. GALAXY, on the other hand, stands at the end of the bed, also looking helpless and distraught.

GALAXY
(To himself) The first thing to do at a scene of an arrest is to take one's own pulse. (Does so) Hmm, I'm a little tachycardic.

GINGER
Aren't you going to do something?

GALAXY
Sounds like a good idea. Let's see… DR ABC… D… D… Danger. Is there any danger?

GINGER
What?

GALAXY
Except for the useless psycho bitch with the good set of jugs standing over there, I should say not. Next comes R. Response. (Walks up to the cat) Mrs Diou! MRS DIOU! Can you hear me? I'm Doctor Wong! (Does the sternal rub) Are you alright Mrs Diou?

Mrs Diou definitely does not seem alright.

GALAXY
Right, no response. Airway. Airway. (He peers into the cat's mouth) Ergh. Vomitus, the bane of my existence. Woe is me! Now how does this suction thing work?

GALAXY struggles with lengths of plastic tubing. He is trying to find the end of the tube, the tip of the suction device, but the tubing seems endless. He fumbles and loses his place, and has to start again. It is at this point that WAXY strides onto the stage.

WAXY
What is happening here?

GALAXY
Uh, Mrs Diou is a 47 year old cat who presents with -

WAXY
What? I thought there was a code blue?

GINGER
Oh yes! Quick! Mrs Diou is unresponsive! She is dying!

WAXY
Right!

He springs into action, peering intently all over the cat. Suddenly he winds his arm back and delivers a blow to its abdomen. GALAXY and GINGER jumps back and gasps.

MRS DIOU
Meow!

Blackout