At first, it had just been Theodore and Amanda, planning to have their own private offices to see patients. But Theodore was used to the St. Mungo's Emergency Ward, and not only did he start to miss it - he hadn't gotten any spectacularly interesting cases yet, so everyday consults were almost boring by comparison - but he had realized how many flaws it had. Then they'd added the emergency response team with Alicia and Patrick, and life in his clinic had quickly gone from near-boring to being nigh on completely insane.
Which, thankfully, was the kind of situation he dealt with best. Theodore was calm and efficient under pressure, good at keeping everything running smoothly in an emergency; he almost thrived on it. Unfortunately, he was beginning to realize that he couldn't have a small, four-staff clinic (plus trainee) and still provide emergency care, at least not without working himself and his colleagues into the ground. They were going to need more staff, and soon.
But right now, the clinic was full. He and Amanda had closed up their private offices at four o'clock, and had been in a meeting together since five thirty, discussing the staffing problem, when the emergency occurred.
Of course, when the magical voice notified them that there were two patients arriving in the clinic, they stopped what they were doing and pulled on gloves, approaching the two beds and their accompanying staff and patients at a run, wands in their hands.
It had been just by chance that Theodore had discovered Alicia was also Welsh, and spoke the language, but once they'd established that, it had provided a handy way to speak to each other without being overheard by the patients and causing them to panic about what was being said. Amanda didn't particularly appreciate it, but she was taking the time to learn key words on top of the other work she was handling.
He leaned over the patient to examine the wound Alicia was illuminating with UV light. The two puncture wounds looked very serpentine to him, which was both good news and bad for their patient. A magical creature could be infinitely more dangerous, but if they wrongly identified the type of snake, the wrong antidote could kill him rather than save his life.
He pulled the curtain between the two beds, leaving Amanda and Patrick to see to the uncooperative patient. "Cymryd sampl gwaed," he said to Alicia, as he bent over the man. "Prawf ar gyfer gwenwyn, rhywogaethau cyffredin yn gyntaf."
In the meantime, he needed to get the man's lungs cleared and functioning properly, and give him something for shock so that he would make it until they found out what kind of snake had bit him, and therefore what type of antivenom to administer.
[Welsh Translation] "Take a blood sample. Test for venom, common species first."