I've literally been chasing my tail this week. On my way to Red's Pikachu, I had a Golem throwing rocks at staff to try and grab their attention. Since nobody went in to check on Golem, I slipped into his room to check how he was doing. He was in the room next to Butch's Shuckle who is about to be discharged soon. Golem frowned at his cheesecake. He was picking the berries out and wasn't attempting to touch the biscuit base.

"MATRON!"

"Yes."

"You call this food?" Golem asked. "What the bloody hell is it?"

"It's cheesecake."

"What have they done to all the berries?" Golem asked. Before I could reply he glared at me and said, "they fucked it up that what they've done. There was nothing wrong with these berries. Until you lot messed it about. It's far too sweet."

Behind me was Golem's catheter and just looking at it made me want to cry. How the scrambled up bags were still flowing was beyond me. Why on earth did they put a lag bag on Golem's arm? Sorry Golem, I have more important things to deal with than cheesecake.

I walked out of Golem's room and shouted to Lucky. "Sort of this patient for me please."

She was given me that look. No, I'm not picking on you Lucky. Nobody is jealous of you because you're a shiny. Just get on with him. I had heard that Golem had fallen several times but none of the staff could be accurate with me. Perhaps Spiritomb would know.

Just as I was about to go to the electric ward, Spiritomb chased me down. Why they thought it was a good idea to give Spiritomb a 15 hour shift is beyond me. He clearly not in the best states of mind and I don't think he will manage to give patients the best treatment. He shouldn't be working. Whoever did the roster this week obviously had no idea about Spiritomb's hatred towards rock-types. How the rock ward managed to cope with Spiritomb in charge.

"Why is Butch's Shuckle still here?" Spiritomb asked. Oh dear, I thought to myself, here he comes with the racists comments again.

"Because he still has another week until his shell heals up," I explained. Shuckle appears to be safe enough to go home, but we have a very important policy that competitive patients cannot be discharged unless they are in fighting state. Shuckle's recovery is coming along nicely, but he'll need to continue this for another week and then he can get back to his normal life. "Anyway I've heard Golem's had several falls."

"Only three little falls."

"This is outrageous!" I cried. But it wasn't the fact that Golem had fallen out of bed that got me pissed off, it was the way Spiritomb said it as if it was no big deal. They might seem like little falls to him, but Golem's arms are covered in bruises and blood was oozing down his shell. Three little falls was a lot of rubbish. "How did you let a patient fall out of bed three times?"

"Rock types don't need nursing," Spiritomb stated. "I'd rather have a dozen Mr. Fierces than one golem."

"I don't care what type my patients are." It didn't take much for everyone to see I was fuming. "You were in charge in that ward. This is unacceptable practice. This hospital's good reputation will be ruined, and you could be released."

Spiritomb shouldn't be working, but he shouldn't be released into the wild either. The doctors who assessed Spiritomb and his capability to work caught him on a good day. He was as good as gold. I wish they were here so they could see what he's like on a bad day. That will give them some thinking. It just proves that thirty minutes is not enough to assess someone's ability.

"Well we shouldn't waste time on patients that don't need nursing," Spiritomb hissed. I don't know what's going on. We usually work so well together, but his condition is only getting worse. "We need to go and see Red's Pikachu... fast. He needs that injection."

"Do I even need to mention Golem's catheter?"

"I asked Monica to put it on his arm," Spiritomb said. "Or else the catheter would have burst if he fell on the bed."

"Well if you bothered to put the frame on his bed, you wouldn't have that problem."

I felt sick. Red's Pikachu was critically ill and I had to have an argument with Spiritomb. I had enough. Weather Spiritomb wanted to help me or not, I barged into Pikachu's room to check on him. Red's Pikachu had been hit by a motorbike; Officer Jenny's motorbike. The police will do nothing about it. They'll say that Officer Jenny was simply doing her job chasing criminals and we'll be blamed if Pikachu dies. Pikachu got intense burns from his against a heatran in Stark Mountain last month, but he managed to heal him in five seconds. If Pikachu's condition turns stable, he could be out in five days, but that's ONLY an "if", there are no guarantees that Pikachu will live. The crash cracked his skill, and the bones in his paws have shattered.

"Good evening Pikachu," I said.

"Hello..."

Even though he's conscious at the moment, his blood pressure, pulse, breathing and temperature has been very inconsistent. The paramedics checked his blood pressure and each arm was on the other side of the scale. He's been bandaged up and he's got another catheter on him and the urine appears to be clear.

"How are you?"

"Wondering when I'll find a new trainer," Pikachu said in such a small voice. "I'm only a little pichu."

I knew he would have some form of memory loss, but I didn't expect it to be this bad. Red has his palms stretched out of the window. His cape covers his eyes, but not his tears. He was pressing against the glass as if he was hoping to fall in and touch his partner. Pikachu turned around to Red and turned back to me.

"Do you know who that boy is?"

"That's your trainer."

I could hear Red kicking the wall. When I looked up, Red had vanished.

"You found me one?"

"Pikachu..." I said, "Well you are a pikachu now. That man is Red. He is your trainer. You were involved in an accident so you'll be staying here until you're better. Don't worry, once Red calms down, he'll be back to see you."

"Thank you."

Pikachu closed his eyes and from a typical point of view he fell back to sleep. From a medical point of view, he was out of conscious. It's Spiritomb who's in charge on the night shifts, but I can't finish my shift now. Spiritomb is being foolish and he needs help with supporting this ward. For goodness sake, why did they let him work? Yes, Spiritomb does need the hospital, but he should be a patient, not a doctor. A healthy pokémon will always be aware of it's environment. The fact that Pikachu still thinks he's a pichu and has no idea who Red is is a sign of some serious head damage. The hippocampus in the temporal lobe of the brain must be damaged.

I kicked the breaks off the bed and wheeled him out of the room. Mrs Swanna, one of the nurses came flying in front of me and asked, "Where are you taking Pikachu?"

"I'm taking him to the healing machine."

"What for?" Mrs Swanna asked. She was a decent nurse, but such a snooper. Her trainer's called Erik Destler who used to be a journalist for Serebii Express. He now has his own popular blog with a huge following. If Mrs Swanna knew what I knew about what spiritomb was up to, then it will be published worldwide by midnight. I'm not the one for gossip, so I'll try and avoid mentioning Spiritomb if possible.

"The healing machine will make Pikachu more comfortable," I responded. "The storm of cells once activated will also help recover damage to his hippocampus and the rest of his brain."

"Well if you say that so bravely it means that Pikachu will be out of this hospital in no time."

"Pikachu will need more than just a healing machine," I said. "It's a palliative precaution. He'll most likely need surgery and injections."

"What's his survival rate?"

"50/50!"

"Red is one of the most powerful trainers in the world," Mrs Swanna said. "If Pikachu dies imagine how awful it would be for the hospital's reputation?"

"That will only happen if we don't do everything we can."

"I told my trainer about that Golem in the other ward," Mrs Swanna said. "He thinks it's crazy. He's going to report it. It's just shocking. It just shows that Domino's influence is still lingering strong. Can you believe it? Our own Nurse Joy perceived us."

"Have you ever heard of confidentiality?" Anybody could have heard what Mrs Swanna was saying and start to panic. The last thing this hospital needs is another scandal. I sighed, I'm not surprised one bit, but Mrs Swanna knows how to cross the fine line. Because she's not a human, she'll get away with it. It's ethically wrong, but that's the way it goes.

We reached the reception point where the healing machine was, it was free at the moment. I wheeled Pikachu into the healing machine and lowered the lid. I pressed the button and it made that sweet little jingle. When trainers hear it, they become relieved, knowing that their beloved friends are healed. I think that's why Domino managed to get away with it for so long. The healing machine is so easy to use, and they've just installed self-service machines near the back.

I'm quite grateful they've installed them because it means that we get more time to spend with patients who need more than a few seconds under the machine. I opened the lid and wheeled Pikachu away. He had one eye open and his breathing gave a faint breeze against my hand. Mrs. Swanna turned around and nudged me. Red had showed up again. His lips were frozen and there was no sign of him speaking anytime soon.

"Hello Red," I said. "If you'd like to follow me, we can go through Pikachu's progress and spend some time with him."

He smiled. It's still early days for Pikachu and he won't be able to battle for at least another six months, but that's if he survives. But there's a big chance that Pikachu might not be battling again. Pikachu's body will need time to heal, and his bones need time to recover. But the healing machine did what I wanted it to do: regain Pikachu's consciousness. He'll have to be closely monitored and Red will need someone to communicate with. I know he dosen't speak very much, but there will come a time where he will have to open his mouth.

Mrs Swanna and I were very quick, but Red managed to catch up with us and whilst we headed over to Pikachu's room. I opened a cabinet and collected an operation consent form for Red. "Okay Red, I've put Pikachu through to the healing machine to help him recover from brain damage. But the machine has not covered everything. There are still broken bones in his body and we will need to operate on him soon. But we can't do that without your permission."

"His heart has produced inconsistent heartbeats and his blood pressure is all over the place," Mrs Swanna said. "If left untreated, Pikachu will go into cardiac arrest."

"Because Pikachu has already lost so much blood, he is at an increased risk of getting ventricular fibrillation. This is where the electric activity in the heart becomes so chaotic that the heart either stops pumping or quivers. Because Pikachu is an electric type, his has more electricity flowing in his blood. A cardiac arrest can be very fatal. We will use a defibrillator, but in order to complete the operation we need your permission."

I filled in the relevant information on the consent form and then passed it over to Red. He read the document as if it were a long novel. He had to make his mind up. Would be allow us to perform an operation on his best friend or will he let him die to get away from the pain. There's a part in the consent form where it says that your pokémon may not be able to battle again or for a prolonged period of time.

It must kill him inside. I don't know what Red's thinking and I don't know what he'll do. He hasn't even touched the pen I gave him. He sat there as if he was petrified. The longer we wait, the more time we lose. I can't force him to sign nor can I force him to consent. I know the last thing he wants is to be bombarded with paperwork, but all it takes is just one signature, and then I can order the surgeons to get the operation table ready.