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OLDER DOCTOR: It's nothing. Just an old notebook.
Trivial ramblings of a medical student.
I was happy in 1917.
I was sent to the remote village of Muryovo to run a hospital.
YOUNG DOCTOR: I just graduated. Top of the class.
So you're in safe hands.
What seems to be the trouble here, then? Ow!
He is young, but he really is a doctor.
(EXCLAIMING)
Did I really used to look like that?
-Give it back! -No.
Come along, Doctor. This is the dispensary.
To the sweet shop.
This is the key.
Don't lose it.
It's just that our old doctor had a beard.
Leopold Leopoldovich.
Feldsher, you do the chloroform.
I will... I'll go and get my cigarettes.
Prescriptions. Seriously, is that all you have?
I'm a doctor. I write a lot of prescriptions.
What do you think? I just lay my hands on the sick?
And that? A notebook?
Sixteen, 17 years ago, I was a boy. I'd just graduated.
I was bored. Stuck in the middle of nowhere.
(SIGHING)
This is a waste of time. I have patients to see.
YOUNG DOCTOR: Anna. Pelageya.
Come quickly.
All right. You as well.
Come on. You have to see this to believe it. It is truly remarkable.
-My God, Doctor! She is ugly. -What? No, no. Look at her eyes.
-Oh, yes, I see. I see. -Her pupils. Are they dilated?
-No? -No. Stand up.
-Sit down. You see, normal balance. -Impressive.
-Yeah. Are you constipated? -Well, if anything, I'm a bit loose...
No. And yet she drank an entire flask of belladonna drops.
Honest to God, I did, sir. It was me, sir, and no one else, sir.
Well, do you see?
Er... Yes, I think I do.
This woman drank an entire flask of belladonna drops,
yet displays no signs of belladonna poisoning whatsoever.
How do you explain that?
-Are there two of them? -You can't!
It's unheard of. It is unprecedented.
You could read every textbook in the Imperial Moscow University library
and never come across a case like this.
And I know, because I have read every textbook
in the Imperial Moscow University library.
I'll publish a paper in the New Paris Journal of Herbology.
(SIGHING) I could even lecture.
And what, pray tell, did you have for breakfast
the morning after the night you drank the entire flask of belladonna drops?
Stale bread.
(ALL GASPING)
Stale bread.
(AUDIENCE APPLAUDING)
But it would have had mould on it, wouldn't it? Fascinating.
Don't just stand there, Feldsher.
-Let go of me. -Wait, what are you doing?
I thought I told you to come and get me when he does something stupid.
You can't just take her like that. We're writing a paper.
-Belladonna drops, is it? -Yes. How do you know?
Honest to God, sir. I took all the drops myself. No one else did.
You're a liar!
You sold those drops to the rest of the village
and then you come back for more.
You might be able to fool the doctor, but not us.
Honestly, I'm not cross with you.
WOMAN: Ahhh!
You trust too easily. They can smell this weakness.
-I thought the beard would help. -Yes. A beard would help.
What're you doing?
Nothing.
Can you believe that she walked for half a day to get here
and then told all those lies just for a flask of belladonna drops?
I know. It's not the first thing I'd steal.
You all right?
(INHALING DEEPLY)
I'm fine.
Tell me they're not all going to be like that.
I mean, they can't be, can they?
Normal people must live out here, too.
Er... Right. It's nothing like I expected.
What did you expect? You're in the middle of nowhere.
No, you took a train to the middle of nowhere,
and it took you another day to get here.
Come on. It's not that bad.
-You've been lucky with the weather. -(KNOCKING AT DOOR)
-PELAGEYA: A patient for you, Doctor. -Can it wait?
-PELAGEYA: No. -Fine.
PELAGEYA: Is this going to take much longer?
Perfect.
That's my coat?
Want to look smart for Pelageya, don't you?
Do I?
Ugh!
I just have a sore throat.
You also have a rash on your chest and a lesion on your genitals.
All I want is a gargle.
I think you'd better sit down.
Oh, no, no, no. You can pull your trousers up first, please.
Thank you.
This part of my job is never easy.
I expect.
I'm sure that as a soldier, there have been times when danger has...
Well, you've been in life or...
You've faced danger.
You know, a bullet, or a mortar shell, or a bayonet.
But the fact is that you face a kind of danger now which is...
Well, it is no less dangerous.
You see, you have a marmoreal rash on the upper torso,
a primary lesion, and papules in the oesophagus.
So, in short, and I'm not gonna skirt around the issue,
I'm afraid you have contracted syphilis.
All I want is a gargle. For my sore throat.
(STAMMERING) Did you hear me?
-I said you have syphilis. -What's that then?
It is an extremely serious and highly infectious disease.
Which, without the immediate, proper treatment...
I just need a gargle. 'Cause my throat is killing me.
No, it is not. Syphilis is killing you.
That is what I'm trying to make you understand.
It is extremely serious and highly infectious.
Hygiene. It's going to be very important now. Vital.
Black ointment is very good,
but you really must rub it in thoroughly.
-Are you out of gargle? -Forget the sore throat.
Unless you do as I tell you, your symptoms could get a lot worse.
I'll come back and see the proper doctor.
You are going to die a slow and painful death.
I mean, horrific. Ulcers, pus. Nervous system shot to pieces.
You will long for the sweet release of death.
Believe me, you will look back fondly on the sore throat.
Your nose will fall off!
Stop, wait! I need to give you the ointment.
This is what I'm talking about.
I got a sore throat. He wants to rub my legs.
-I know. Ridiculous. -Have you got a wife?
A family? Because they need to come and see me at once.
Half a day here, half a day back. No gargle.
-I know. It's ridiculous. -But he just...
Doctor, they do not understand the nuances of syphilis
-like we men of science. -(GASPS IN HORROR)
I doubt he even knows what "highly contagious" means.
Yes, we are not in Moscow now.
We are in fact, 978 long versts north-northeast of Moscow.
Yep, we are in the back of the back of beyond.
What else could I have done? Painted a more graphic picture?
*** sores, would that have clinched it?
Actually, you might want to give the chair a wipe, too.
I mean, why wouldn't he listen to me? Is it the half beard?
I know it's unbearable to watch a patient walk out that door,
knowing he's going to die a slow, agonising death.
-But you get used to it. -How can you say that?
True. He's one of hundreds.
-And that's just syphilis. -That's terrible.
-It's an epidemic. -I know.
-But what can you do? -I'll open a ward.
I'll write a compelling letter to the Zemstvo asking for more staff.
-I have to fight this. -And save the world
-one peasant at a time. -Yes.
I like your optimism. It's adorable.
I'm a doctor. It is my duty to help these people.
(MAN WAILING)
I believe duty calls.
-What are you looking for? -Nothing.
I just noticed the drawer sticks.
I must have fixed it.
Let me go! I need to see the doctor.
-I'm here. What is it? -He's deranged.
-(PATIENT LAUGHING MANIACALLY) -I'll give a sedative.
(CONTINUES LAUGHING)
What have I done to upset you?
Nothing! Nothing! It's going to be all right.
Help me, Doctor. I'll give you money, food, anything.
Yes, but let's calm you down first.
Good. Good.
Yes, now I can really get to the bottom of his psychological troubles.
You know, I actually got a five in my public exam for psychiatry.
Yes, this promises to be a most interesting case.
(GASPS)
She fell in the lathe. She's all I have.
(WEEPING) Don't let her die.
The lathe? What do you suppose that could mean?
Oh, right. An actual lathe.
Anna?
OLDER DOCTOR: Where was all the blood?
There was barely a drop left in her.
I thought to myself, "So this is what it looks like
"to watch a girl, torn to shreds, slip into the next world."
Ah! (GROANING)
You know, I think I might just pop back to the room.
No need. Since you got here, I like to keep a pack in the gauze-cabinet.
In case of emergencies.
Good idea.
This... This doesn't look good.
You said she's their only child.
His only child. He's a widower.
-(SIGHS) -He took me once to a harvest festival.
He cried.
Excellent.
(SIGHING)
Don't look down.
(GASPS SOFTLY)
I told you not to look down.
Yes, but if you say, "Don't look down,"
-then obviously I'm going to look down. -All right, then look down.
-(GASPING) -Oh!
Ouch.
Is she alive?
I'm sorry. But I'm afraid she is.
It's horrific.
OLDER DOCTOR: I've seen worse.
But it is up there.
She doesn't have a pulse.
No, it's there.
-Hardly. -She's clinging on for dear life.
There is absolutely nothing I can do for her.
Don't let me hear you say that.
So what if you've never done anything like this before?
-Don't forget, you have great grades. -Yes, I know.
I know. But I don't think anyone could do anything for her.
OLDER DOCTOR: So you're saying you just want to let her die.
-No, no, how could you even... -Suggest such a thing?
No, no. Don't feel bad about it. I'm just surprised, that's all.
Normally, it takes a lot longer for a doctor to get like this.
YOUNG DOCTOR: What? OLDER DOCTOR: Cynical.
Numb to human suffering.
-Hats off to you. -No, I'm not numb. I...
And an eight-year-old girl, too. That's cold.
-I like it. -You misunderstand me.
I don't. I get it.
You do want to save the world, one peasant at a time.
-Yes. -But just not this one.
Yes. I mean, no!
Because you don't want to do an amputation.
-Yes. -Because it's foul, and hideous and barbaric.
And the stench stays in your nostrils for days.
I don't blame you.
PELAGEYA: Well, Doctor?
Prepare her for amputation.
But, Doctor, do you really want to torment her?
She's going to die.
You heard what I said.
Feldsher, sterilize the knives. Anna, the tourniquet.
Pelageya, the morphine.
(CLAPPING HANDS) Okay, team, you heard what the doc said.
Let's get this show on the road. Here come the good times.
-Oh, but you just said not to bother. -He said, she said. Who cares?
You need to focus. Feeling strong?
-What did we have for breakfast? -I don't remember.
We'll soon find out.
Now, where the hell did she go to get that morphine? Grachovka?
She still alive?
-Mind the... -Oh!
...lamp.
(BREATHING HEAVILY) Here we go.
Oh, right, you want to start on that leg.
Yes.
As you were.
You're sure she's not dead?
I'm sure.
All right.
(SIGHS)
All the way in. Ugh!
Ugh!
Um...
(MUMBLING)
Amputation saw.
-Careful. -It's all right. It's blunt.
Still alive?
(GRUNTING)
(BREATHING HARD)
(PANTING)
(UNEVEN SAWING)
(SOFTLY) Oh, why couldn't you just die?
(GRUNTING)
Right.
Ligatures.
-And the other leg? -(PANTING)
You know, I... I think we should leave it on. Don't you?
She's... She's lost a lot of blood.
YOUNG DOCTOR: Seven years. Finest university in all of Russia.
All that hard work to reach the top of the class, and for what?
I'm not a doctor. I'm nothing but a butcher.
And a seamstress.
What am I doing here?
Why did they send me to this godforsaken backwoods?
But you did a good job. She's alive.
I know. But look at her.
What's left of her. What have I done?
You saved her.
You just might have to settle for saving the world
three quarters of a peasant at a time.
I can't do this for two years. I...
I just won't be able to cope.
What are you doing?
-Well, it has a bit left. -A bit of morphine.
You're only going to throw it away.
You're going to take it?
-Is that a problem? -Yes!
-It is. Put it down. You're a doctor. -So I know what I'm doing.
Put it down.
No. You can't make me.
-Was that a clamp? -Yes.
And this is an amputation saw.
-No, don't. -Don't worry. It's blunt.
You have no idea what you're doing.
Have you performed many amputations, Doctor?
Uh... No.
Not really. Three.
-It looked like your first. -Well, it was...
My first leg.
Definitely.
ANNA: Well, you've come to the right place.
You'll have plenty of opportunities to improve.
(EXHALES)
I bid you goodnight.
In time, you will be the equal of a young and inexperienced
Leopold Leopoldovich.
And his is a name I do not mention lightly.
Thank you.
YOUNG DOCTOR: I'm not a doctor. I'm a butcher.
Purveyor of choice cuts and the finest sausage meat.
And to think, I read all the medical textbooks
in the Imperial Moscow University library.
What for? When the only book I really need
is Practical Tips for Jointing a Carcass.
Wherever possible, use a sharpened saw.
In case of tiredness, change arms.
(SCOFFING)
Hmm. Perhaps I could lecture.
In abattoirs.
(BABY CRYING)
This is useless.
-I'm probably going to have to operate. -I'll just take the drops.
-You can't cut his eye. -What eye? He doesn't have an eye.
He has a... Well, big yellow tumour or something.
-The drops will be fine. -Drops can't grow an eye.
But he's a child. You can't just cut bits off.
I'm not going to cut anything off. I'm going to gouge.
-No. -Yes.
-Give me the infant. Give him to me. -(BABY WAILING)
-Don't be ridiculous. -No. Help!
Oh, please don't hurt him. I don't want you to gouge...
-(BABY CHUCKLING) -ANNA: What now?
-Is that pus? -(BABY COOS)
YOUNG DOCTOR: As I thought.
An abscess.
-I'll get you those drops. -(BABY COOING)
But the names on the prescriptions, Doctor.
Leopold Leopoldovich, Demyan Lukich, Pelageya Ivanovna.
What do they all have in common?
You obviously know the answer.
They are all deceased.
And have been since before the dates on these prescriptions.
Would you care to explain that?
I know morphine is a powerful drug,
but surely, it cannot raise the dead.