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Back Going Under Save as PDF
Chapters (70)
  1. COVER PAGE
  2. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  3. DEDICATION
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. PART I BIRTH
  6. ONE
  7. TWO
  8. THREE
  9. FOUR
  10. FIVE
  11. SIX
  12. SEVEN
  13. EIGHT
  14. NINE
  15. TEN
  16. ELEVEN
  17. TWELVE
  18. THIRTEEN
  19. FOURTEEN
  20. FIFTEEN
  21. PART II LIFE
  22. SIXTEEN
  23. SEVENTEEN
  24. EIGHTEEN
  25. NINETEEN
  26. TWENTY
  27. TWENTY-ONE
  28. TWENTY-TWO
  29. TWENTY-THREE
  30. TWENTY-FOUR
  31. TWENTY-FIVE
  32. TWENTY-SIX
  33. TWENTY-SEVEN
  34. TWENTY-EIGHT
  35. TWENTY-NINE
  36. THIRTY
  37. THIRTY-ONE
  38. THIRTY-TWO
  39. THIRTY-THREE
  40. THIRTY-FOUR
  41. PART III DEATH
  42. THIRTY-FIVE
  43. THIRTY-SIX
  44. THIRTY-SEVEN
  45. THIRTY-EIGHT
  46. THIRTY-NINE
  47. FORTY
  48. FORTY-ONE
  49. FORTY-TWO
  50. FORTY-THREE
  51. FORTY-FOUR
  52. FORTY-FIVE
  53. FORTY-SIX
  54. FORTY-SEVEN
  55. FORTY-EIGHT
  56. FORTY-NINE
  57. FIFTY
  58. FIFTY-ONE
  59. FIFTY-TWO
  60. FIFTY-THREE
  61. FIFTY-FOUR
  62. FIFTY-FIVE
  63. FIFTY-SIX
  64. FIFTY-SEVEN
  65. FIFTY-EIGHT
  66. FIFTY-NINE
  67. SIXTY
  68. EPILOGUE
  69. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  70. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The round. I grimace. Each morning it’s been the same. Me and the Joker charging around the ward, dissecting and analysing every single error that’s been committed the day before and reaching exactly the same conclusion in every case—it’s all my fault. And I have a sneaking suspicion from yesterday’s brief encounter with my new registrar that things are only going to get worse.

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I’m not wrong. Dealing with one of them is bad enough, but the double act is excruciating. I watch a lot of crime drama and recognise immediately I’m now witness to my very own folie à deux. Three patients into the morning round, I’m already exhausted by the realisation that this new game of ‘who can be meaner to the intern’ is one I’ll be forced to play every morning. I walk behind my superiors, dragging the charts, and wonder if they’ll object to me lying in front of them before the round as a little bonding ritual so they can kick me a few times and then at least we’d get it out of the way.

‘What’s wrong with you?’ the Joker sneers when I ask the new registrar to repeat which antibiotic the patient is on. ‘You look half asleep.’

Ah, sleep. If only. What I wouldn’t give to return to the sanctuary of my bedroom and be granted a reprieve from these horrendous people.

‘You really need to focus more,’ the new registrar informs me. ‘When I was an intern I knew all the blood results off by heart and I’d arrive at work at six every morning to make sure I’d familiarised myself with all the patients. You should really be doing a pre-round, you know.’

I should be doing a pre-round at 6 am? This is news to me. The round itself is horrific enough!

Although we’d got off on the wrong foot yesterday, I’d still held out some hope that she and I would bond, both being women currently in surgery. The new thing in medicine is to support each other, after all, and be generally a bit, well, pleasant towards your colleagues. At least, that’s what the email from medical admin this morning said.

After our first round together, I quickly dispel the hopeful illusion that we’ll ever be friends. Everything I do or say is a personal affront to her own enormous intelligence.

‘So, let’s try and be better tomorrow, okay?’ she says to me at the end of the round, as the Joker smirks.