"You'll lose more than a few weeks of bedrest if you keep pushing yourself like that. You say you want to become a dancer? Then you need to treat your body like a dancer and not like some workhorse. I'm not kidding, Adele. You'll injure yourself so severely that dancing won't be..."

He stopped, a look of dawning realization on his face. THIS was why she'd become a doctor instead of a dancer. She'd worn herself ragged, and had been unable to adequately perform. Tendon damage healed extremely slowly, even with bacta and other aids...and it all started to make sense.

"You've got more than that, you have you. And you've got friends here. And a future as an esteemed physician ahead of you."

He holds out one hand.

"Adele, take my hand."