October 1961 was rough for Shelagh Turner, and it started with an unexpected phone call from a very distraught Sister
Julienne.

"Turner Residence, Mrs. Turner speaking."

"Shelagh, my dear its Sister Julienne- I'm afraid we need Dr. Turner at Nonnatus right away."

"Of course, Sister is Sister Monica Joan ill again"

"I'm afraid not, you might want to sit down when I tell you this. It's Sister Evangelina, I'm afraid our dear Fred found her this morning. We think she passed peacefully overnight."

"Oh sister, I'm so sorry! I'll get Patrick to come 'round first thing."

"Thank you, Shelagh. Shelagh, if you want to come over, we will all welcome you with open arms."

"Thank you, Sister. I appreciate the offer, although I might not take you up on it. I'm going to fetch Patrick now."

"Goodbye, my dear Shelagh."

"Goodbye, sister."

It wasn't until several weeks later that the enormity of Sister Julienne's words fully affected Shelagh. But at that moment, her priority was to fetch Patrick to get the answers that Sister Julienne needed.
"Patrick, I'm afraid you're needed at Nonnatus House. It's Sister Evangelina, she's gone, Patrick." Shelagh wasn't aware that while she had tried to hide the emotions that she was slowly beginning to feel within, her voice, eyes, facial expression had begun to betray her.

"I'll be on my way then. I'll stop at Nonnatus before I make morning rounds", he told her with a calming smile.

The only fathomable place that Shelagh could imagine being at that moment was at the Surgery, even if it was just taking care of the morning post and organizing records. Then came the Distaval letter. The letter that launched everyone, grieving or not, into action to determine the effect on the Poplar community. With the focus away from grief and processing for the moment, no one noticed the slippery slope that Shelagh Turner was on.

A storm was brewing, and only Shelagh would find herself caught in it. No matter how hard she fought, she couldn't do it alone. She was slowly falling down a steep slippery slope. The slope of grief left unrecognized, unacknowledged by the person suffering. Grief that had been stuffed away in favor of saving the people of Poplar from more heartbreak. Shelagh wasn't even aware that she had stuffed her grief down until it was nearly too late- but because of those she loved, she would be saved from the worst of the storm.