Free I'm Still Here (Je Suis Là) by Clélie Avit, Lucy Foster Page A

of the different doctors who have examined her, and the absence of any marked improvement over the past three months, this patient just scrapes a two percent probability of recovery.”
    â€œOnly two percent?” asks the first junior.
    â€œAssuming, hypothetically, that she does wake up, we can’t be sure how far the trauma to the head will have affected her mental and physical functions. Looking at the affected areas of the brain, we can predict that there may be complications with language and with fine motor skills on the right side. There is also likely to be pronounced sensory and neurological deficit, and we know that her respiratory function, which has already been tested, is…”
    I try desperately to move my attention away from what the doctor is saying and think about something else. I don’t want to hear another word. Hearing seems to be the only thing left that I
can
still do, and for the first time, I wish I couldn’t.
    I scroll through any other thoughts I might be able to bring to mind. The only one that calms me down is Thibault. I hardly know anything about him, so I don’t have a very detailed picture. But I let my mind wander and invent for a moment until the doctor’s voice brings me back to what they are saying.
    â€œâ€¦ so, two percent.”
    â€œThat’s almost zero, really, isn’t it?” says a trainee I haven’t heard speak before.
    â€œAlmost, yes. But we are scientists and we don’t deal in
almost
.”
    â€œSo, it means that…” the trainee starts.
    â€œâ€¦ it’s zero,” finishes the doctor.
    A medical cart falls over in the corridor with an almighty crash, as if to reflect my state of mind. The house officers are scribbling notes. The doctor must be pleased with himself. He can move on to something else now the case study of room 52 is finished. But apparently it’s not
quite
finished…
    â€œWhat’s the next stage?” he asks.
    â€œLet the family know?” suggests the first junior.
    â€œExactly. I broached the matter with them a few days ago, so that they could start thinking about it.”
    â€œWhat did they say? If it’s OK to ask…”
    â€œThey said that they would think about it. The mother was resigned, the father was against, which is often the case. It’s very unusual for relatives to agree. It’s almost a natural state of contradiction. We don’t talk lightly of ending the life support of a person who is in a coma.”
    I don’t like the way the doctor is speaking about my parents, but I have to admit that he’s right.
    â€œIsn’t that what we’ve just been doing?” asks the first junior doctor suddenly.
    My ears prick up. This comment must have surprised even the consultant, because he doesn’t reply straight away.
    â€œCan you explain yourself, Loris?” he says, in a voice which is trying to be neutral, but which comes out as abrupt.
    â€œThe terms that we have just been using, the ‘scientific’ approximations that we’ve been making about the probability of her recovery. You say that we never speak lightly of ending the life support of a patient in a coma, but I think I just heard Fabrice say she was
completely fucked
and I’m pretty sure I also heard the conversion of a two percent chance to zero. If that’s not speaking lightly then I don’t think we’re talking the same language.”
    If I could move, I would kiss this lovely house officer. But I think I might have to step in and physically defend him first, because, given the tone of the consultant, Loris is going to be working night shifts for some time.
    â€œAre you questioning the diagnostic abilities of your classmates and future colleagues?”
    â€œI’m not questioning anything, sir,” returns Loris. “I just find it strange to be so crude about someone who, as far as we can see, is still breathing here