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

in front of us.”
    â€œLoris,” begins the consultant, as though trying to collect himself, “if you can’t bear the idea that we might have to disconnect someone, you have no place in this department.”
    â€œIt has nothing to do with being able to bear it or not, sir. It has to do with facts. You say two percent. For me, that means two percent. It’s not zero. As long as we haven’t reached zero, I believe that there is still hope.”
    â€œYou’re not here to hope, Loris.”
    â€œWhat am I here for then?” replies the junior doctor, now purposefully insolent.
    â€œTo conclude that this case is closed. Resolved. Finished. It is going to be impossible to reestablish the vital chain of this patient. As your colleague said, she is fucked. And it matters very little to me if that term doesn’t suit your delicate sensibilities.”
    I think poor Loris might be on night shifts for the rest of his time in this training post.
    My room falls silent. I imagine Loris holding the gaze of his teacher for a moment, and then lowering his eyes. I imagine all the other house officers feigning an urgent need to write something down. At least the session is over, and at least I wasn’t able to see the expressions on their faces during the discussion—it could be devastating to witness this sort of situation when it concerns you. In any case, my only hope is to go on believing that they’ve got it wrong.
    â€œRight then, Loris, since you seem to be so attached to this patient, you can write down the conclusions of our visit yourself.”
    I hear my “system updates” being passed over to my right. A few pencil scratchings later, and the clipboard is handed back to the doctor.
    â€œHmm… Well summarized, Loris. If you weren’t so obstinate, I would almost certainly have you on my team when you qualify. You have, nevertheless, left out one detail.”
    â€œWhat?”
    The junior doctor doesn’t seem as talkative now, and I can understand why. This consultant is really beginning to make my ears hurt.
    â€œOn the first page, you can add it underneath.”
    â€œWhat has he left out?” asks another junior, as Loris begins to write.
    â€œCan you answer your colleague?”
    I can visualize perfectly the clenched fists and set jaw of poor Loris who has done nothing but stick up for me since he came into the room. But I have no idea what is being added to the first page of my file.
    â€œI left out the official declaration of our intention to disconnect the life support of this patient. I’m just writing that we are now awaiting family agreement before we set the date.”

Chapter 8
THIBAULT

    I feel good today. Even if I did have to get up early. I helped my colleague sort out a wind power situation and I earned a pineapple juice in recompense. It was a rewarding start to the day, but I think I’ve had a good feeling about today ever since I woke up.
    When, halfway through the morning, I realize why this is, I almost want to laugh out loud.
    It’s Monday and I’m meant to take my mother to the hospital this evening. It’s the first time that I have ever considered this ordeal with a smile.
    â€œThibault? What is that dazed, idiotic expression on your face?”
    My reflections are brought to an abrupt close when I see the colleague I helped out this morning standing, quizzical, in front of me. He is looking at me with his head tilted to one side, as though he is trying to read something on my chin. I, too, am quite curious to see what response I’ll come up with.
    â€œWhat are you talking about?” I say.
    Disappointing.
    â€œThat smile, there,” he answers, pointing to the corner of my mouth. “You’ve got a sort of smiley twitch.”
    â€œYou’re smiling, too!” I defend myself.
    â€œThat’s because I’m amazed,” he laughs. “Why this weird happy face?