(Series 19, ep. 9) The episode opened with Jac Naylor being operated on. Rather terrifyingly, she keeps her eyes open even when she’s under anaesthetic – even when you’re operating on Ms Naylor, she’s watching you. Until you tape her eyes shut.
But what got Jac into this pickle? It’s not like she’s been wandering around going “Nnngh!” for the past few episodes. We were given a clue a couple of weeks ago, though, when we heard Mr T making an appointment to see her (and not the wedding planner, as some people thought), so it was clearly something gynae.
It seems that she’s been revisiting the delights of Jonny Maconie, which led to a positive pregnancy test. Mr T’s tests revealed that she isn’t pregnant, but had a rather nasty ovarian cyst which needed sorting out ASAP. They say that doctors make the worst patients, and it seems that the best doctors make the very worst patients, because Jac had no plans to down tools and sort out her own health. Particularly not when Jonny’s brother Alister Maconie (I so wish he’d been called Tony) needed his circulation switching round the right way.
We had the treat of a lovely Jac/Sacha scene, in which Sacha tried to persuade her to put her own health first and she promptly ignored him. Then she collapsed and Ric Griffin had to carry her out of theatre so she could be prepped for theatre herself. Mr T and Ric removed the offending cyst, but we now face an anxious wait to see if it was cancerous. We were left with an adorable scene with Emma coming to visit her mum, and Jac sweetly telling her daughter that she could face down any troublesome elements at nursery: “You’re a Naylor. We can always practise our death stare.”
Meanwhile Alister Maconie’s circulation was being reversed by Matteo and Ollie. Matteo spent much of the episode living up to his “Italian stallion” billing by dishing out romance advice to Ollie and there was a lot of fun in the contrast between his Italian style of romance (which just about avoided descending into cliché because his tongue is firmly in his cheek while he’s saying it) and Ollie’s uptight Englishness. “Imagine,” said Matteo, “It’s Saturday afternoon. The best time for love-making.” “Well, not in cricket season,” replied Ollie. Matteo wants to ask Zosia out, so Ollie needs to shape his ideas up fast if he doesn’t want Zollie to become Mollie. “Slap on some Luther Vandross and get busy,” would be Matteo’s approved method. Subtle.
Dr Raf di Lucca (also Italian but a lot less stallion) was wearing the burgundy scrubs of Keller. He was there for the day for plot reasons, because Kim and Parker were back. This time it was Parker who was the patient. He’d torn something due to fierce vomiting after trying the cinnamon challenge. This actually happened to my cat, though it wasn’t the cinnamon challenge but probably the ancient-kebab-found-in-a-bin challenge in his case.* Parker had been staying with a friend but now the friend’s parents didn’t want him any more because it was costing them a fortune in cinnamon, so Essie (nice coat) has offered to let him live with her for a while. She’ll be putting a padlock on the spice rack first.
Sacha is still having adventures on the dating scene, and while his hair has gone back to normal, his fashion sense is taking new and interesting twists. His motorbike leathers made him “look like a burst couch” according to Matteo (he really was Mr Quotable in last night’s episode), which was a bit harsh, I felt.
Fletch got involved with a vulnerable patient with a gambling habit. This man taught Ric Griffin everything he knows about poker – which is a lot. And Morven’s new job as Foundation Doctor Representative was confirmed. It doesn’t involve a pay rise, just the prestige and a 2-for-1 voucher for Pulses.
And we learned that Mr T has a PhD in Procrastination and Paranoia, and Oliver Valentine loves Downton Abbey.
* My cat made a full recovery, and is sitting at my feet farting gently as I speak.