| SCENE ONE |
| HANNAH: |
My name is Hannah Kane. I am 56 years old. For thirty-one years I was married to Bruce Kane. For twenty-four years I taught English at Woodruff Heights Secondary School. For five years I have had AIDS. I have two beautiful daughters, Maggie and Gillian. I write these words for the sake of my children, and my children's children: Ashley, Ryan, and Claire. The day will come when my grandchildren will wonder why their grandparents died at such a young age. My husband died when he was fifty-four. I am dying. I am making my story public to try and prevent what could have - should have - been prevented. My life for the past five years has been an endless stream of could haves, should haves. Most days, I rewrite the past. I imagine I am somewhere I have never been. I confont those I never confronted, including myself. Let my words survive long after I'm gone. One day soon, the sea will carry my ashes. My story begins and ends with the sea. That is where Bruce and I met for the first time. On a hot summer day by the sea in Nova Scotia. He saved a young boy's life, and mine. |
SCENE TWO: SEASIDE BEACH - FLASHBACK |
| SOUND/BIZ: |
CRASHING WAVES, SEAGULLS, SUNBATHERS AND SWIMMERS FROLICKING ON BEACH AND ON SAND. CONTINUES UNDER: |
| HANNAH: |
(NARRATION) I was nineteen years old, walking along the beach with Dodi MacLean, my girlfriend since I was seven. Dodi noticed it first. A young boy, splashing and thrashing, waving his arms. |
| DODI: |
Hannah, look. Out there. |
| HANNAH: |
Where? |
| DODI: |
Past the raft. See? Someone's...Look, he keeps struggling to...Oh, God, he's drowning. Look! Help him! (SHOUTING TO ANYONE AND EVERYONE) He's drowning! Help him. Please. Somebody! |
| SOUND/BIZ: |
CROWD REACTS TO DODI'S CRIES: CHILDREN SCREAM, PARENTS CALL OUT FOR THEIR CHILDREN. ONE MOTHER'S VOICE SURFACES, A HYSTERICAL VOICE CALLING OUT HER SON'S NAME: STEPHEN. |
| HANNAH: |
(NARRATION) Everyone watched as Bruce swam out to the drowning boy, as determined as a dog paddling towards a stick. The boy was a limp sack in his arms. The crowd parted. Bruce dropped to his knees and lay the boy on the sand. |
| MOTHER: |
He's dead!! |
| BYSTANDER: |
He ain't dead. Not yet. |
| | THE BYSTANDER IS SHUSHED BY THE CROWD. |
| HANNAH: |
Who is he? |
| DODI: |
Who knows. Some local kid. |
| HANNAH: |
Not the boy. Him. |
| DODI: |
Oh, him. |
| HANNAH: |
Where's he from? |
| DODI: |
Not here. We would have noticed. |
| HANNAH: |
(NARRATION) Bruce was hunched over the boy, mouth-to-mouth. Everyone watched and waited. |
| SOUND: |
YOUNG BOY COUGHS, SPITS UP WATER. |
| SOUND/BIZ: |
MOTHER'S CRY OF RELIEF; MURMURS OF APPROVAL; AN EXCITED BUZZ; VARIOUS CROWD COMMENTS: "CALL A DOCTOR; HE DOESN'T NEED ONE; HE SHOULDN'T'VE BEEN SWIMMING THAT FAR OUT; IF HE WAS MY BOY, I'D CLIP HIM ONE". |
| HANNAH: |
Where'd he go? |
| DODI: |
Who? |
| HANNAH: |
He was just here. He disappeared. (BEAT) Wait. Over there! |
| DODI: |
Where are you going? |
| HANNAH: |
(RUNNING OFF) I'll catch up with you later. |
| DODI: |
(YELLING) Hannah! Hannah! |
| SOUND: |
CRASHING WAVES UP AND UNDER: |
| HANNAH: |
(CATCHING UP) Hey! Mr. Hero! |
| BRUCE: |
I'm not a hero. |
| HANNAH: |
You're too modest. |
| BRUCE: |
Too modest is better than one. |
| HANNAH: |
What? |
| BRUCE: |
Never mind. |
| HANNAH: |
Where're you going? |
| BRUCE: |
(OFF) For a swim. |
| HANNAH: |
Can I join you? |
| BRUCE: |
(OFF) Swim at your own risk. |
| HANNAH: |
Looks like I'm in safe company. |
| BRUCE: |
(OFF) Think or swim. |
| SOUND: |
CRASHING WAVES UNDER: |
SCENE THREE |
|
HANNAH: |
That's where we were married. By the sea, on a clear August day in 1959. Bruce wanted to yell our vows, loud enough, he said, to wake up his ancestors buried in Ireland. It was his Irish blood that hooked me. His puckish sense of humour. His silly word games. His love for music, and a good drink. He was a leprechaun in another life, I'm sure of it. He had flaming red hair, and a temper to match. Blue eyes. Broad shoulders. Large hands so delicate, they could pluck fallen eyelashes off my cheek. |
SCENE FOUR: HEARING - ACADEMY OF PHYSICIANS |
| COMMITTEE CHAIR: |
We are here today in the matter of a Hearing directed by the Complaints Committee of the Royal Academy of Physicians and Surgeons between the academy and Dr. Hastings. Dr. Hastings has been charged with professional misconduct for failure to maintain the standard of practice of the profession in respect to his treatment of his patient, the complainant's husband, now deceased. He has also been charged with professional misconduct for an act relevant to the practice of medicine that, having regard to all the circumstances, would reasonably be regarded by members as disgraceful, dishonourable and unprofessional. Ms. Sauren, you may begin. |
| SAUREN: |
Dr. Hastings, you have been a family physician for how long now? |
| HASTINGS: |
Thirty-seven years. |
| SAUREN: |
And Bruce Kane was a patient of yours. |
| HASTINGS: |
Yes. |
| SAUREN: |
For how many years? |
| HASTINGS: |
Almost thirty. |
| SAUREN: |
Over the course of those thirty years, would it be fair to say you had a good physician-patient relationship? |
| HASTINGS: |
Oh, yes. Very good. Excellent. |
SCENE FIVE: THE KANES' DINING ROOM |
| SOUND: |
EASY LISTENING MUSIC. CONTINUES UNDER: |
| BRUCE: |
Ta-dah! |
| HANNAH: |
What's that? You're not allowed to drink. |
| BRUCE: |
This, my dear, is non-alchoholic. So am I. I want to celebrate. |
| HANNAH: |
Celebrate? |
| BRUCE: |
My successful operation. |
| HANNAH: |
You haven't had it yet. |
| BRUCE: |
I'll be too drowsy afterwards. You know what I'm like. I want to celebrate now. (BEAT) What's wrong? |
| HANNAH: |
Nothing's wrong. |
| BRUCE: |
You're wearing your "Something's wrong" face. |
| HANNAH: |
Nothing is wrong. |
| BRUCE: |
If nothing was wrong you'd be wearing your "Nothing's wrong" face. I know your "Nothing's wrong" face, and this isn't it. (BEAT) You're worried. |
| HANNAH: |
I'm not worried. |
| BRUCE: |
You're wearing your "worried" glasses. |
| HANNAH: |
I'm wearing contacts. |
| BRUCE: |
When you wear your "worried" glasses on your "Something's wrong" face, then I know you're heading for some major fretting. Didn't you major in fretting at university? |
| SOUND: |
HANNAH PLAYFULLY HITS BRUCE WITH A COUCH PILLOW. |
| HANNAH: |
Stop it. |
| BRUCE: |
A major in fretting with a minor in pillow fighting. That's why I married you. |
| SOUND: |
A PLAYFUL PILLOW FIGHT BETWEEN THEM. BRUCE BEGINS TO COUGH. |
| HANNAH: |
Careful. (BEAT) You're frightened. |
| BRUCE: |
Frightened? Moi? I'm the King of Cardiac Surgery. Four operations in the last two years. Long live the King! |
| SOUND: |
BRUCE SHAKES BOTTLE; CORK POPS OUT. |
| HANNAH: |
Bruce! The carpet! |
| BRUCE: |
It won't stain. |
| HANNAH: |
You always do this. You, you get into this, this heightened state of denial. |
| BRUCE: |
Denial is a river. |
| HANNAH: |
Please! No word games. Not now. Honestly, some days I wish you'd be as, as depressed and frightened and scared as anyone else who's going through what...Going through what we're going through. |
| BRUCE: |
Repeat after me: "Reoperative bypass". |
| HANNAH: |
Stop it. |
| BRUCE: |
I'll be fine, Hannah. We'll be fine. |
| HANNAH: |
I hope so. |
| BRUCE: |
I'm the King of Cardiac Surgery. Long live the king! (PAUSE: HANNAH DOESN'T RESPOND) Long live the king! |
| HANNAH: |
(PAUSE) Long live the king. |
|
SCENE SIX: HEARING - ACADEMY OF PHYSICIANS |
| SAUREN: |
Would it be fair to say that during the three decades or so during which Bruce Kane was your patient he came to trust you? |
| HASTINGS: |
All my patients trust me. |
SCENE SEVEN: HOSPITAL - INTENSIVE CARE UNIT |
| SOUND/BIZ: |
HEART MONITOR; P.A. SYSTEM IN BACKGROUND, PAGING DOCTORS, ETC. FADES AND CONTINUES UNDER: |
| INTERN: |
Kane. Bruce. (PAUSE) He's had better days. |
| NURSE: |
And nights. Cardiac arrest during the operation. Internal bleeding. |
| INTERN: |
Cryoprecipitate will stem the bleeding. Give him eight to ten units. |
| SOUND: |
HEART MONITOR, UP AND OUT. |
SCENE EIGHT |
| HANNAH: |
Cryoprecipitate. I have said that word a thousand times. I've chewed on it for days on end, like a dog with a bone. I've defined it for friends, family, strangers. "A fluffy white protein mass that's extracted from blood and helps clotting." Fluffy and white sounds so, so cozy. Fluffy and white, like a cloud. Like cotton. Like fresh snow. The cryoprecipitate that was injected into Bruce the morning after his operation was extracted from the blood of a man who had his own story to tell, if he could. He's dead, too. But two months before Bruce's operation, he was very much alive. I don't know his name. I call him Mr. Sangfroid. That's French for "cold blood". Forgive me. My French is as bad as my husband's. Mr. Sangfroid was feeling so full of life, he decided to donate some blood. For the sake of those who needed it. For the sake of people like my husband. |
