The Turnaround

 

Later, you don't ever remember whose idea it was. You know the scenario: You sit and talk with friends, you drink, then you drink some more, and all of a sudden somebody comes up with a plan everybody present considers safe, sound and ABSOLUTELY brilliant.

The task at hand was to liven up the upcoming boring but mandatory Christmas party. Same old, every year. We were supposed to wear our 'Anserpanier' as they say in Vienna, meaning our Sunday best, to be courteous and make sure not to drink too much because, same as every year, invitations to some of the high-up bosses and important benefactors of our Clinic had been sent out. So far, not one of them has ever shown up.

Nevertheless, because it was important to leave a good impression SHOULD one of them ever grace our halls with their presence, everyone was admonished to be on their best behaviour or else we would end up in Sensengasse - the building which houses the famous Department of Forensic medicine - to have the First Year Students practise on us. Of course we wouldn't want that so during our first years we tried to pull ourselves together.

Meanwhile, however, our training as resident doctors was almost finished, we had lost almost all respect of the authorities and were full of mischief.

We finally decided that each of us should grab a goodie from the drug cabinet and fake a documentation of the withdrawal. Since we were working different shifts, it would be impossible to blame the deed on any of us. They would have to concentrate their investigations on an outsider.

We would then spike some of the drinks, put them on a special tray so as not to inadvertently down one ourselves, and see what would happen. Sounds immature and childish, I know, but too much work and no fun for years and years does that to you.

At first everything seemed to work out fine. People mingled, talked, pretended to have fun and nibbled elegantly on the food from the cold buffet.

I went outside for a cigarette. The clinic garden was deserted, the patients all hopefully asleep in their beds, and for a december night it was unusually balmy. I took a deep breath and while I still wondered if I should contaminate the lovely air with one of my pongy fags, somebody appeared next to me and handed me a drink. 'Aw mate, thank you!' I breathed, and tried to fathom out the identity of my gracious benefactor. What with the light behind him, I couldn't see his face. He merely patted my shoulder and was gone again. Curious. Strange fellow. Well, never a one for being picky when it comes to alcohol, I lit my cigarette after all and enjoyed my solitary drink on the now empty patio.

Afterwards, back in the overheated and crowded room, I soon noticed an unwelcome dizzyness creeping up my spine. God, what a dreadful party. Hadn't I been here for long enough? Perhaps I could just sneak off without anyone noticing? Surreptitiously I tried to make my way towards the cloakroom when all of a sudden my vision cleared and everyone in the room looked like playmobile figures with silly smiles pasted onto their faces. Bubbles of laughter rose from my belly and I was just about to break into a fit of laughter, when a big, lilac-haired monster stepped into my path and regarded me sternly. Oops. His mouth opened and closed as if it was trying to talk to me, but no sound could be heard.

I summoned all my courage and shouted 'I'm NOT afraid of you! After all I'm a surgeon and so far I have killed numerous people instead of helping them and it's all your fault!'
The monster turned tail and fled without further ado.
Grinning smugly I turned, went to get my coat and left for home.

The morning after, our Senior Consultant looked at me gravely. 'I have no words for your conduct at the party yesterday!', he started the conversation. I had no idea what he was talking about, so I just stared at him uncomprehendingly and let him continue.

'You insulted a major member of a leading pharmaceutical company. THE company which has sponsored our Clinic most generously. How could you!!!'

I still didn't get it. But then it dawned on me. The spiked drinks, the monster …
I put my head in my hands and groaned.

My superior droned on and on about how it was one thing to be blind drunk at an office party, but to betray the medical profession in a way that made the whole Clinic look like a bunch of morons … I zoned out.

My life was over. My career was in smithereens and I could be lucky to get a nursing job in a small hospital in the Weinviertel where they have never heard of the recent ongoings in the Vienna AKH.

Out in the corridor again, my phone rang. My friend and now ex-colleague Wolfgang shouted into my ear: 'Franzl, you are on Facebook! Somebody filmed you with the pharma guy and the vid has gone viral! You're bloody famous!!!'

Oh no! The whole world was witnessing my ruin! I was doomed! I wouldn't even get a cleaning job anymore. My parents would disinherit me and my landlord would … the phone rang again. 'Listen to me, you don't know me but I saw your video on facebook …' 

I disconnected. Shit! Journalists! I would have to get a new phone number and bury myself somewhere in the Arctic Circle or perhaps Tanzania …

The phone rang again. 'Look,' I bellowed, 'I don't care who you are, I'm not talking to the press, all right???' 'Wait a moment son, I'm not a journalist, I am a doctor like you and I have an offer to make. Please hear me out. I am an ENT specialist from Germany and I loved what you said to that guy. You're a hero. We need ppl like you. I would like to offer you a job which would enable you to finish your education and … are you still there?'

'Well yes, I am …', I mumbled. 'What kind of offer are you talking about?'

'Not on the blower, son. Let's say tonight 8pm Aida Kärntnerstrasse?' With that, he hung up on me. Boy, what a weirdo. Did he really expect me to believe a word he was saying???

Three months later, Tansania:

I am sitting in my hotel room and feel like the luckiest man alive. I am now hotel doctor in this posh residence, a well-paid job, lovely weather most of the time and enough time off to finish my studies.

Of course I went to the suggested meeting back in Vienna, and the guy who awaited me there turned out to be a representative of this ENT specialist who became famous during the pandemic because he organised demonstrations and was considered a truly subversive character. So he had to flee to Tansania and has meanwhile bought himself into a hotel there. We are now building a worldwide net with the ultimative goal ​to revolutionise ​the healthcare​​​ system. We want to help the patients - not line the pockets of the pharmaceutical industry.
We are the future!!!