A Sketch by Jean-Pierre Martinez
The same room, but with some details indicating it’s a hospital room (a medical chart at the foot of the bed and an IV stand on the other side of the bedside table, for instance). The same man wakes up in the same bed. The same woman enters, but now she’s wearing a doctor’s white coat.
Woman – So, dear Sir, how are you feeling today?
Man – I’m okay… Well… But what are you doing in my room?
Woman – Ah… This simple question suggests that you haven’t quite regained your immediate memory yet.
Man – I don’t remember anything… except that you’ve told me this before.
Woman – Don’t worry, it’s quite common after this kind of procedure. As soon as the brain is involved…
Man – The brain? I see…
Woman – If you can still see, that’s something… Listen, let’s not beat around the bush, your condition… is very concerning.
Man – You mean concerning for me, I suppose?
Woman – I would have liked to bring you good news, but what can you do? I’m not God the Father.
Man – Which for me would actually be good news in itself.
Woman – You think so?
Man – Waking up from brain surgery and seeing God the Father…
Woman – Of course… So, the results of our initial tests aren’t very promising… for you.
Man – I understand.
Woman – If you can still understand, that’s something…
Man – So you’re saying… it’s serious.
Woman – My God… Not necessarily…
Man – What do you mean?
Woman – What’s serious is that… we have no idea what’s wrong with you.
Man – Ah… And I imagine that… is serious for you.
Woman – If we don’t know what’s wrong with you, we also don’t know how to treat you. In short, we don’t know what to do… And when we don’t know what to do, we don’t know what to say. Honestly, dear Sir, I don’t know what to tell you…
Man – Listen, Doctor… Can I call you Doctor?
Woman – I earned my medical degree in Romania… (Ecstatic) But of course, please, call me Doctor.
Man – I know you’re very concerned about me, but I’m more worried about my wife’s mental state.
Woman – Your wife? Well…
Man – It’s hard to believe, but… it turns out my wife thinks she’s a Martian.
Woman – Well, would you look at that…
Man – It doesn’t seem to surprise you.
Woman – Well, yes, it does, but… to be honest… (She checks a file.) I had no idea you were married… At least, it’s not in your medical records.
Man – They might have thought it wasn’t a serious enough illness to report.
She lets out a somewhat forced laugh.
Woman – Well, at least you’ve regained your sense of humour. And that’s a good sign, isn’t it? Do you know Ionesco?
Man – Not personally.
Woman – He was Romanian, like me. And I have the honour of sharing the same surname as him. According to my mother, we’re distantly related.
Man – Really?
Woman (confidentially) – Between us, I’ve always thought that Romanians were better suited for the theatre of the absurd than for brain surgery.
Man – Thank you, Doctor Ionesco. That’s exactly the reassuring kind of thing a patient wants to hear from their surgeon in the recovery room…
Woman – But of course. I’m here for that. If you have any more questions, don’t hesitate to ask.
Man – And… for my wife, can you do something?
Woman – Your wife? My God… First, we’d have to make sure you actually have a wife…
Man – Ah, yes, of course.
Woman – And then that your wife isn’t really an extraterrestrial.
Man – What do you mean?
Woman – You’d agree that if your presumed wife is truly a Martian, we can’t consider her crazy for claiming to come from the planet Mars.
Man – It’s true when you put it that way…
Woman – In any case, that’s what they teach us in medical schools in Romania.
He looks at her as if he’s just now discovering her.
Man – It’s crazy, Doctor Ionesco…
Woman – What is?
Man – You look like my wife. Well, you would look like my wife if I were married.
Woman – Nevertheless… I can assure you that I’m not from the planet Mars.
Man – No, you’re from Romania. And… it was you who operated on me, right?
Woman – Unfortunately for you… I suppose a doctor from another part of the galaxy might have saved you.
Man – You think…?
Woman – It’s said that those people are much more advanced than us. In any case, we can reasonably assume that their doctors are better trained than mere interns who studied in Bucharest…
Man – Well, yes, but…
Woman – You’re right… At this level of speculation, I wonder if we can still call it reasonable assumptions, right? I’ll let you rest… I’ll come back a bit later…
Man – Can I ask you for one more favour?
Woman – As long as it’s not about saving your life…
Man – If you happen to run into my wife, could you tell her that I’m not married?
Woman – I won’t forget.
Man – Thank you.
She’s about to leave but turns back to him one last time.
Woman – Can I ask you something as well?
Man – As long as it’s not what my name is.
Woman – Could you call me Doctor once more?
Man – Thank you, Doctor Ionesco. Goodbye, Doctor.
Blackout.
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A sketch from the collection Not even dead
Link to the collection for free download (PDF)
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