Disclaimer: I'm writing this recap on a plane and on very little sleep. So I've not only got on the Bitch Pants you all know so well, but I'm also sporting my Nasty Britches and some shit-kicking boots. Air travel and recapping do not friendly bedfellows make.
Previously: Pratt flirted with a girl on the El and made a crack to Gallant about TUBE-ing a stripper ("TUBE" being an acronym for "Totally Unnecessary Breast Exam." Do you think one -- or, gasp, both -- of those things will come back to haunt Pratt like the ghost of a bad tertiary medical tragedy of the week? Then there's a blink-and-you-miss-it mention of Sandy's death, Weaver's loss, and The Baby-Napping Of Henry. Alex's deadbeat dad Steve showed up. Neela whined to Gallant about not enjoying working with old people and drunks and whatnot, and then sobbed when he left for Iraq. It's the most haphazard "previously on" in the world -- snatches of this and that and a pinch of the other, kind of like when you throw all your leftovers that haven't turned fuzzy or a rich shade of green and make a Refrigerator Casserole. And both go down better if you have a shot of Pepto.
Sam comes home with an armload of grocery bags and finds Alex strumming away on Steve's guitar. He excitedly shows Sam the song he can play, which I should recognize, I'm sure, but which I don't, so we'll dub it, "My Daddy's a Schlub But At Least He's Not Boring Like My Mother." As Sam makes appreciative noises as politely as she can, masking her urge to wrap the guitar strings around Steve's neck, Alex boasts that Steve might even take Alex to get his own guitar. "Oh really," Sam says skeptically, carrying the bags into the kitchen. Steve awkwardly says that he'd have gone to the store for her, and she doesn't respond. "You all right?" he asks. "Yeah," Sam lies. Steve fishes out a grimy wad of cash and hands it to Sam, who touches it like it might be filled with poison. "Grocery money, rent money..." he explains. "Guilt money," she prods. Then she stares at it. "Not much guilt," she says icily, tossing it on the table. Well, the economy's bad these days. I don't think guilt trades for nearly as much as it used to; she's lucky he didn't just give her a bushel of tomatoes, a tent, and a tiny plot of parched soil. Steve insists that there's more where that came from, and that he's got a few jobs lined up; Sam scoops this up on her shovel and throw it on the dung heap of their shared history. Steve leaves the money for her, sure she'll want it eventually, because spite and pride alone don't pay for rent or food. Or Trojan Magnums. Sam makes a cutting remark about using it to buy Alex a guitar, clearly disdainful of the idea; Steve defends that music can inspire a kid and stimulate his brain -- you know, the part that isn't interested in fire and entrails. "Prove it," Sam says, cocking an eyebrow. Steve lets this insult float over his head, and notes instead that it always helped him score with the hot chicks. Sam bites her tongue. Steve sits down to show Alex how to play a song that always worked for him with the ladies, and begins to strum that song by Blind Melon. You know the one -- the Bee Girl song. Sam flinches but her eyes aren't entirely cold, as Steve smiles up at her like he's remembering the night they put on this romantic ditty and conceived Alex.
A woman named Mrs. Garrison is freaking out, and Malarkey tries to restrain her. She's clearly an astute character study and knows that no good can come from the hands and mind of a stoned imbecile. Luka catches wind of this and stops them from putting hard or soft restraints on her, insisting that she'll be fine once she's on her meds. "She'll be fine," he repeats calmly. Mrs. Garrison returns the favor by opening wide and chomping down on Luka's forearm. This actress will never brush her teeth again. She's eaten Goran Visnjic -- does it get any tastier? He screams. Malarkey smarms, "Guess you should've put her in restraints!" Mrs. Garrison turns to ponder Dr. Shitstorm and decides to wind up and palm his nads in a vigorous, exploratory fashion. Malarkey shrieks, and we smash to commercial on the melodious roar of a chorus of dying sperm, the song that will play liltingly in our memories as we close our eyes and relish with a smile the fact Malarkey won't be propagating anytime soon.
Weaver's lawyer, Mr. Bald, explains to her that Sandy Lopez's family is arguing that they get the kid because their daughter was his biological mother, and Kerry never officially adopted him. "We were working on that," Kerry sputters defensively. The Bald Eagle nods his understanding, but it doesn't change the situation. "If the child's genetic father is willing to assign you parental rights..." Bald begins, but Kerry frets that Romano is dead and gone. No, just kidding, but wouldn't that have been a corker? Henry could've popped out with a bionic arm and a taste for hate, and made life a lot more interesting right off the bat. Anyway, I guess it was an anonymous sperm donor, so no luck there. Bald says he can establish parental intent, at least, which should get Kerry temporary access. This doesn't please the Weav, who spits, "Henry is my son." She needs a new argument, since the whole issue here centers on that line's not being quite enough. The Bald Spot says that the state has recently adopted an approach to custody cases that is neutral on the issue of sexual orientation, but points out that being the Gay Widow doesn't quite offset the fact that she's single and has a very, very demanding job that takes her away from Henry. "They present blood relations with a loving family and a stay-at-home mom," he says. Kerry snaps that she'll cut back her hours, or quit altogether. Good plan! The only thing better than a single, busy mother is a single, unemployed, no-income one! Yeah!
Weaver notices Luka nursing his arm wound, and orders Sam to dress it and check it for tetanus and HIV. The Bald Ranger promises to call her with any updates. Weaver stops him in the hall to state that the other important advantage she has over Clan Lopez is money, and lots of it, so she'll throw around whatever she has to in order to buy custody of Henry. Baldie promises to let the family know that, as it will certainly endear Kerry to them and entice them to cut a deal. Then, Weaver turns back around and catches sight of Malarkey clutching an ice-pack to his beleaguered balls. "What are you doing?" she gapes. "Icing my nads," he groans. She stares. "One of the patients grabbed my junk," he clarifies. The look on Weaver's face clearly says that, where Malarkey's concerned, the word "junk" is amazingly apt for the anatomical tragedy that is his nether region.
Sam quietly checks out Luka's arm with something that looks like a tiny whisk. I don't know. "So, Alex must be excited," Luka says conversationally. Sam freezes. "Spring break," Luka clarifies. Sam exhales and nods uncomfortably. Luka invites them out that night to the rock-and-roll bowling alley Alex has been chirping about, but Sam turns him down. Then, after a pause, she says as lightheartedly as she can that Alex's father has popped up again. "He does this every now and then, usually without warning. Kind of like a tornado," Sam babbles. "Wish he'd stay away for good." Luka tries hard not to look taken aback, but he can't help it; it always sucks when your girlfriend's baggage gets dropped on your foot. "Oh well. He's the boy's father," Luka smiles gamely. "Barely," snorts Sam. "He only sticks around long enough to run up my phone bill and drink all my beer." Luka swallows, and asks nonchalantly if Steve is staying with them. Sam doesn't answer, and the tension is so thick you could cut it with the knife that Alex will undoubtedly use one day to perform an autopsy on a playground squirrel.
Abby bursts in and cheerfully says, "Somebody call for a Psych consult?" Yes, we did -- for you, because you're upbeat, and that's what we had defined as "psychologically impossible." Luka and Sam jump to attention as Luka draws from Abby that she's just started her psych rotation. Wait, if the ER was doing its match list two episodes ago, presumably other departments were, too; isn't that a little too soon, if they haven't all finished their other rotations? I don't know. Maybe someone with med-school experience can explain this one to me on the forums, because I don't get why all our ER students seem to be doing rotations at different times, yet returning to the ER in between, and doing them after the match lists are compiled. Anyway, Abby grins to them that they shouldn't worry -- she keeps an extra hospital ID in her pocket in case anyone mistakes her for a patient. No one laughs, because it's so close to home that it actually moved into the guest bedroom and ate all the leftover lasagna in the fridge. "That was a joke," she explains. Sam smiles politely. Luka quickly leaves to take Abby to her patient. Sam looks sad. Abby looks curious. Sam looks worried. Abby looks really curious. A cat dies.
Lester -- who is apparently not on another new rotation -- argues with Malarkey about who's treating a particular patient, Malarkey trying to claim that Lester's never done the requisite procedure before. Pratt intervenes, checks out the chart, looks up at the attractive brunette patient, and decides to settle it by taking the case himself. "You two should be ashamed of yourselves," Neela glowers at Lester and Malarkey. To shut her up, Malarkey tosses her the chart of a young girl with bluish skin who's horking up yesterday's eggs into an emesis basin. No Vomit Comet sightings, though.
Abby tells Luka she'll get Mrs. Garrison admitted. "How's Psych?" he asks, interested. Abby says it's scary, because she actually likes it there. She then asks how things are in Luka's world, and he pauses, and then heaves a mighty sigh. "Sam's ex-boyfriend is back in town," he begins. Abby stares at him, clearly trying to egg him into giving her more context, but Luka tiredly throws up his hands as if to indicate that it's all beyond his understanding or explanation. This has Abby's interest completely piqued, which makes me wonder if she knew for sure that Sam and Luka were seeing each other.
Abby bumps into Carter and Chen, who are escorting her father into the hospital again. Carter's in plain clothes, so I guess he is just with her for moral support, or to give false hope to those that yearn for Chen and Carter to go bump in the night. Chen exposits that he hurt his right arm and now can't do much for himself. "I've already been through four home-care workers," she says, fatigued. Carter is present, but doesn't indicate that he is listening, as Abby quickly offers to help out because she needs the money for her spring tuition and isn't being allowed to pick up any more nursing shifts. "Abby, you don't want any of this," avers Chen, wheeling her father away.
Abby and Carter decide to grab some coffee. "How's Kem?" she asks. "She must be getting big!" Carter nods. "You should see Susan," Abby grins. "Know how some mothers talk to their unborn children? She threatened to pull hers out with her bare hand if it didn't hurry up."
Pratt is with Brunette, trying to determine the cause of her back pain. She insists that she hasn't strained herself in any way; he lifts her arm and touches her back, and she twitches. He apologizes, explaining that he's just checking her lymph node. "I'm ticklish," she says. "I'll make a note of that," he says, easily. But not really flirtatiously, unless you know Pratt and are already aware that he has that propensity. That's my entire problem with this coming storyline, by the way: I don't think it floats unless you have prior knowledge of Pratt. I don't think anything he does is so overt that a woman with no experience with Pratt as a person would ever read it as slimy or inappropriate -- but because the writers have already shown us the flirty, semi-oily side of Pratt, they think we'll buy into the fact that a character he's never seen before thinks he's being an asshat. Like, the woman totally flinches when he says, "I'll make a note of that," and even though that's a stupid remark, it's not inappropriate and just came off as a lame attempt on his part to be friendly. Pratt then asks Brunette whether she does breast self-exams; she doesn't, and she's never had a mammogram. Pratt calls for Sam to observe a breast exam, squeezing the woman's shoulders as he does it, which again is something I think Pratt figures will be reassuring. And it would be, if you had never met Pratt before. Again, not buying it. The woman's face is all, "VIOLATED! I'm violated!" Too extreme.
Then Pratt says something a little stupid: "Do this every month -- you have to get to know your breasts. You can't just rely on friends." But although it alludes to her sex life, it really doesn't sound like he's intimating that he'd like to be part of it. Sam, though -- because she's a pawn in this plot -- glares at Pratt and shakes her head as if to say, "You are a stupid ass." Pratt tries to sound authoritative and smooth and gentle as he very explicitly takes the patient through an exam, explaining to her why you pinch the nipple, where you apply firm versus soft pressure, and what area you have to cover. She looks horrified the whole time. Woman? You've clearly been around the block. What is your problem? Ten guys at a bar on a Saturday night could violate you five worse ways, and that's just with their facial expressions. Pratt doesn't seem to be enjoying himself; he seems to be calm and trying to make a very technical thing seem easy so that she will know how to do it herself. Brunette's all wary.
A man named James gets wheeled in on a gurney, the passenger in a car accident. He's bloodied on his right side and his arm is hurting. He's also thrashing mightily. "Driver got the worst of it -- they were T-boned," the medic says. The female driver comes in , and sure enough, she's bleeding and in full pain. James is dispatched to Trauma Yellow, where Pratt is with him. "Save my arm!" James howls. "You're not going to lose your arm, sir," Sam drones annoyingly. Don't sound irritated with him for being scared, hosebeast. "She your girlfriend?" Pratt asks, thumbing toward the girl in Trauma Green. "No, man, I just met her last night," James wails. "She was driving me home from her place. I should've taken a cab!" And with that, he shrieks again. Pratt and Sam determine that his elbow is dislocated.
In Trauma Green, Neela says that they need to run trauma panels. Malik snappishly asks her if she'd care to let him know which ones. She rattles off a list. The girl is moaning and wearing a very pink, very lacy bra. Those two things aren't connected. Cute lingerie can never be used for evil. "Is Greg Pratt working?" she mutters. And here, of course, we recognize her from the aforeshown El scene. She asks them to get Pratt. So Neela wanders into Trauma Yellow and tells Pratt that a patient is asking for him. He, meanwhile, has finally gotten James to conk out for twenty seconds so that they can tug on his elbow and get it back where it belongs. Ow. It's not nearly as disgusting as that knee scene from last week, though. James wakes up and opens his mouth to begin screaming, until he realizes that his arm is now fine and fully functional. "Holy crap! You're GOOD!" he gapes. "You can pick up your Dr. Greg Pratt Fan Club ring at the door," Pratt smarms, trotting over to Trauma Green to see about this other aficionado of his work. The girl moans, "Greg, is that you?" He blinks. "Yeah," he says, pretending to know her while mouthing to Malik to give him the name on the chart. It's Rena, which rings no bells with our American gigolo. "We hooked up last year. Met on the El, remember?" she murmurs. "Oh, yeah, right," he says, shrugging at Malik as if to say, "If I had a dollar for every girl I met on the El, I'd be a bloated, rich, boyishly ooky-looking white dude with a dead grandmother, a trust fund, and a knocked-up Congolese fiancé." Luka explains, as Neela shoots Pratt a disapproving look, that Rena will need surgery. Does someone on this show have a mother named "Rena" or something? That's two Renas. "I'm all messed up," winces Rena. Pratt promises to take good care of her; we fade to black on him sighing, as if the burden of being irresistible is just too great for one man to bear. Wow, that might actually be the least compelling act-out they've used in a long time. Will Neela crack a smile? Will Alex get his guitar? Will Pratt remember Rena? Will Malarkey get literal and wear a hat shaped like an ass? Just try to go away now.
Abby arrives in the psych ward and meets up with her resident. He has enormous ears, so I'll pilfer my beloved father's nickname for England's Prince Charles and call him Big Ears. "Mr. Rosenbloom was asking for you," says Big Ears. Abby laughs until he tells her to take it as a compliment. "It took me two years before The Duke would even talk to me," he smiles. He suggests that her nursing background must be what helps her relate with these people person-to-person; Abby suggests that genetics might have more to do with it, since her relatives put the "crackpot" in...well, "crackpot." They enter a tiny observation room, clearly behind a mirror in the counseling room. Big Ears tells Abby that she's going to lead the group today. She's floored. "By myself?" she asks. "No better time than the present," he says. Well, I can think of one better time -- the right time. But who am I to question a man whose ears are so big he can hear my skepticism before I even open my mouth? Abby steels herself, and then stiffly walks inside, sits down, and introduces herself.
James is getting some sutures in his shoulder, but otherwise he's in fine shape to bail on Rena. "You're not going to stick around for her?" Pratt asks. "Like I said, I just met her," James says defensively. Pratt scratches his throat and walks into Trauma Green to check on Rena. She's headed up to Elizabeth for an operation, which can only mean something's effed up in her intestines. Hate the plumbing problems. "Don't worry. Dr. Corday is an excellent surgeon," Pratt says reassuringly. Rena groggily asks if he'll come see her afterward. "Sure," Pratt says. But he doesn't raise his hand. Remember those old commercials? There's absolutely a giant pit stain forming under his lab coat right now. Pratt quietly asks Luka to let him know how Rena does.
Pratt then gets handed some charts, so he calls over Neela to dump a bunch of the work on her shoulders, because that's the beauty of delegation. "I can't -- I'm in the lab at 4," she says. Apparently, she's doing some work in stroke research. I don't know if this is her rotation, or the project Susan referred her to, but either way, she's not looking all that stoked about it. Then again, Neela never looks stoked. She's got glowing embers, at best, but no fire. "You're going to the Mouse House?" Pratt asks, disgusted. "It's elective," she says. "I'm lousy down here. People seem to think I'd be better up there." Pratt mutters something like, "God forbid you disappoint them," and stalks away. Okay.
Neela greets The Blue Puker and apologizes for taking so long to get to her. Blue Puker says she's been feeling cruddy -- nauseated and headachey -- and thought it was the flu until she lost the feeling in her hands and feet. "You're not here because of your skin?" Neela asks. The girl sweetly shakes her head and says that's a condition called ventricular arrhythmia, and I can't tell if that or the requisite drugs are making her skin blue, but either way, her hands in particular are a lovely Crayola color. "Know what the guys at school call me?" she asks, brightly. "Smurf." Dang, I was going to refer to her as Smurfette. Is that wrong? It probably is. It's tacky. But you know what? She's not real, so I can't make her cry. Smurfette it is.
Brunette's x-rays have come back, and Pratt tells her he can't see any signs of anything wrong with her. "It's probably just muscle strain," he says. "But I told you I didn't do anything!" she protests, suspiciously. Relax, your breasts aren't that nice, lady. He says that she might not have realized it at the time -- it might not have been a sudden movement, but just that she slept on one side a little awkwardly. "Try a warm bath with ibuprofen, and come back if the pain gets worse or you feel numbness," he says. Then he's called away to a seizure case.
Brunette flags down Sam and asks if she could please speak to Pratt's supervisor. Sam agrees, but en route to find Weaver, she sees Steve. "What are you doing here?" she asks. "I wanted to take you to lunch," he replies. "Where's Alex?" she demands. "He's showing one of the doctors his guitar." Sam spies him down the hall proudly displaying the instrument for Luka, and you can see her groan inwardly. Steve's confused about her reaction. "I can't just leave for lunch," she argues. "I asked Alex. He said it'd be all right," he says. "He's ten," Sam says flatly, and I laughed a little, because seriously, she's not wrong. The line is a little bit heartbreaking: Alex looks up at Sam with total delight in his eyes and exclaims, "He did it! Dad said he'd buy me a guitar, and he did it!" Those are totally the words of a kid who's known a few empty promises in his life. I kind of wanted to hug him right then. An uncomfortable introduction of Steve to Luka follows, and Alex babbles on and on about Steve's being in a band, and teaching Alex to play, but Luka's called away. It's pretty amusing. A brown-haired nurse walks into the scene and says with yawning unconcern, "Luka, your little old lady stopped breathing again." She'd use the same tone to say, "Luka, there's a thread hanging from your lab coat." Luka excuses himself. Steve's kind of like, "Whoa, that's no good," until Alex pipes up, "People die in here all the time. It's no big deal." Steve's all proud that Alex is already sounding like a doctor, while Sam looks tempted to eat the first thing in sight just for the pleasure of throwing it up all over Steve's stubble.
In Trauma Yellow, Seizure Woman -- I'm so creative with the names today -- gets treatment from Neela, Malik, and Pratt, as they try to rule out a heart attack as the cause of her seizures. Pratt's leading and doing the quizzing thing with Neela, but she's giving pretty vague answers unless Pratt presses her. "We don't have to do this if you've got something better to do," Pratt brats. Weird little thread here; wish they'd snip it like the one dangling from Luka's lab coat.
Carter is on the phone in the lounge, explaining to whomever that he's stuck at the hospital and needs a notary to come to him. As he hangs up, Chen enters and apologizes for stranding him -- what, did she pick him up from home so her could come with her and her father? I'm confused -- and promising to give him a lift home. He laughs that he already made arrangements to get a notary to come to County, and shrugs that he'll just kill time there until his shift. He's picking out themes for the nursery, and asks Chen to pick her favorite: jungle, aquatics, or the circus. Unless Carter wants his child to grow up a twisted head case, I suggest he stay away from anything involving the clown, that nefarious lower order of humankind. "If you had a baby, which..." Carter begins, and then sees Chen's wounded eyes. "I like the jungle," she says softly. Carter is grateful for his flirtation with yoga, because it's enabled him to get half his leg in his mouth here without popping a joint. "It's okay, don't worry about it," Chen insists with a sad smile. "You know, sometimes I forget, myself. Actually, I think that's when I feel worse -- when I realize I haven't thought about him in a week or so." She distantly, ruefully, notes that once her father dies, she'll be totally alone in the world. Carter is sad. Oh, gross, and also smug. What is wrong with him? Did the wind change once during a scene, freezing his features in that cat-ate-the-canary arrangement? Chen shakes her head no and bites her lip. "Maybe you should," Carter says. That's easy to say when you're not the one who has to deal with potentially uneasy adoptive parents. "Maybe I should've kept him," counters Chen. "He is three years old now." She looks awed, proud, and distraught at the same time. It's actually the first nice scene I feel like I've seen from Ming-Na in a while -- Chen's been such an ice block lately, it's nice to remember that she has a human side. I think this was my favorite part of the whole episode, for continuity and character reasons in addition to her lovely acting.
Abby's therapy group consists of the usual TV loons: one who gently threatens suicide, one who speaks Klingon, one who is paranoid about bad smells, one who can't smell after his accident ("No one 'accidentally' puts his head in a paint mixer," sniffs one woman), and one argumentative guy in heavy eyeliner who snipes at everyone. Abby seems out of her league, as Big Ears listens as only he can. Abby stands up to get some coffee by the mirror, and you can tell she wants nothing more than to give up that it's a spy mirror by gesturing wildly at her supervisor for some tips. But when none of the patients listens to her and all start yelling, Abby casually lights a cigarette and takes a satisfied drag. This somehow freaks all of them out for different reasons, and they quiet and all offer, in turn, pleas for her to stop. Even cranky old Eyeliner has a sob story about smoking. Having unified the group, Abby drops the cigarette to her right side and chirps, "Now that we've all agreed on something, let's talk about personal goals." We cut away, and I can't for the life of me figure out where she put that stupid cigarette. There doesn't seem to be an ashtray; I think it might be in her coffee. God, I hope she forgets and takes a swig. All this show needs now, after The Great Ball-Handling Brouhaha Of Half-An-Hour Ago, is a grandiose spit-take.
Brunette explains to Weaver that Pratt performed a breast exam on her that he seemed to enjoy a little too much. To me, it looked like he would rather be icing Malarkey's nuts than squeezing her nipple while talking about discharge, lest it sully his impression of the breast as a divine, holy, flawless object. I don't know why I've come down so firmly anti-Brunette. Lord knows I don't like Pratt. I just don't think the scene played out at all like an outsider, a newcomer to Pratt, would think he enjoyed it. I'd be a little more intrigued by the story if, say, Sam, as the observing nurse and someone who's aware of how Pratt jokes and acts, felt that he looked titillated and filed a complaint herself -- thus pitting herself against him in a more meaningful way for the show. But no. Brunette is quick to say she doesn't want to file a formal complaint, but that she did feel it was important at least to mention it. Weaver promises to speak to him, and learns that Sam was the assisting nurse.
On her Pratt-hunt, Weaver bumps into Sam -- en route to a quick lunch with Alex and Steve -- and asks her if she was indeed in with Pratt while he checked Brunette's breasts. "Did you notice anything unusual about the exam?" Weaver asks. "No, why?" Sam frowns. "He gave her a breast exam for back pain," Weaver answers. Sam shrugs that she was on the phone with the blood bank and juggling other patients -- liar; she was on the phone with the blood bank while in the room with Pratt and could easily have turned her lazy back and watched -- so she couldn't possibly vouch for him. As Weaver walks away, Malarkey sniffs, "Sounds like he TUBE-d her." Sam is confused. "TUBE -- Totally Unnecessary Breast Exam," Malarkey giggles. Weaver hears this. "Such an ass," Sam spits. "What was that?" Weaver hisses. "Sorry," Sam says guiltily. Hee. "Not you," Weaver snaps. "Where did you hear that term?" Malarkey sucks wind and innocently insists that he didn't make it up himself. "Who did?" Weaver demands. Malarkey's eyes dart around, because he sucks.
Pratt is with Seizure Woman, who wakes up and asks for her child. Pratt explains that she fainted at home, but that all her tests seem to check out; she confirms that she's not on medication for anything. She's got no history of palpitations at all. Seizure Mom does say that she got seizures as a kid, but that she grew out of them when she was in fifth grade and they never came back. Pratt's exam is interrupted by an angry Weaver, who insists on speaking to him right that second.
Outside the trauma room, Weaver asks Pratt whether he treated Brunette, and tells him that she basically accused him of sexual harassment. "What?" Pratt gapes. "Did you TUBE her, Pratt?" Weaver says with bitter relish. "That's what you call it, right, when you want to feel up a good-looking patient?" We fade to black as Pratt snorts in disbelief; although Pratt mouths off a lot and generally acts like a jerk, I don't think he's stupid, which he'd have to be very dumb indeed to talk so blithely and loudly about TUBE-ing a patient if he really intended to do it. But, Weaver knows him, so she's pretty sure he's a guilty little slug.
Back from the break, Weaver tells Pratt that Brunette could sue if she hires a lawyer. I love that County -- via Kerry -- never offers its employees any real support in these situations. Just scoldings, regardless of whether anyone did wrong. "If I'd found a lesion, I could've saved her life," Pratt correctly notes. "But you didn't," Weaver snots. Not the point, beeyotch. He didn't know he wasn't going to find one. "I'm being punished because she's not sick?" Pratt says angrily. Weaver says it's not about Brunette's condition -- it's about how Pratt behaved. He insists that he was fine, and that with tenderness in that spot and no prior mammograms, he thinks Weaver would've done the exact same examination. "It's not about what you did, it's about how you did it," she snaps. That's not the impression she gave Sam a few scenes ago. "The patient felt you were enjoying it," Weaver accuses. Pratt hisses, "Have you ever gotten turned on by a breast exam? Bet you don't even have a nurse with you when you do it!" Weaver counters, "I'm a woman." Pratt zings, "Who sleeps with other women." Ooh, point to Pratt. He insists that he's never done what Brunette accused him of, even though she thinks he created the expression. "I've overheard you using it a lot," she says. God, again a lie -- if that were true, she wouldn't have reacted to Malarkey with surprise and demanded to know where he got the phrase. Lord, she's a slippery one. Pratt points out that saying it as a joke doesn't mean he does it for real, and Weaver says it doesn't matter -- the woman felt intimiated. Pratt tries to play the "big black doctor" card, which irritates Kerry. "I'm not going to let you hide behind [race]," she insists. "I'm not going to," he steams. Weaver tries to ignore a phone call, but it's her lawyer, so she takes it.
Before Pratt can bend Sam's ear, he's called away by Malik; Smurfette has collapsed. "Find Neela," he instructs.
In the trauma room, Neela enters and explains Smurfette's history. Malarkey enters cheerfully to offer another set of hands, and Pratt gives him the stink-eye, because he knows that at least a fraction of Weaver's wrath probably had something to do with Malarkey's giant mouth. Back and forth, back and forth, Malarkey denies blabbing and Pratt doesn't buy it; amid all this, they get Smurfette's pulse back. "What'd you say to her?" Pratt seethes. "Nothing! That hot patient was complaining about you," Malarkey insists. Neela coldly points out that referring to a patient that way might be part of the problem. Pratt's annoyed with her. "Can you imagine what it was like for her to come here? She's feeling ill, worried, scared, and probably waited several hours to be seen, only to have a stranger fondle her breasts," Neela blasts him. Yeah, but the woman's not sixteen. She's a woman who, by all rights, should be mature enough to understand that sometimes doctors need to see you naked. And I think Brunette so overreacted to Pratt that I really don't want to give Brunette any points at all. Maybe that makes me a shitpipe, but I can't help that. Pratt takes a break from talking about his personal affairs to focus on the patient at hand, which is very responsible of him. It seems Smurfette stopped taking her arrhythmia meds weeks ago. Pratt wonders why. "Maybe because men are idiots," Neela seethes, stomping off. Sigh.
Sam's at Ike Ryan's with Steve and Alex. That doesn't really seem like a very quick lunch. Alex wants to get up and play pinball; Steve hands him money as Sam orders Alex to finish his food first. "I have," he says. "You barely touched your hamburger," she points. "I don't want to get Mad Cow Disease," Alex retorts. Then don't order hamburgers, kid. What ten-year-old boy doesn't want to eat his lunch? Don't go all manorexic on me here, Alex -- you're at least two career slumps too early for that. Sam compromises by asking him to finish his fries, which he carries petulantly to the pinball machine, where he ostensibly can't eat them while he's playing unless he face-plants into the basket. "He's grown a foot since I saw him last," Steve says admiringly. "Been a year," Sam says frostily. Steve seems affected, and then softly praises Sam for the job she's done with Alex. Interestingly, the song playing is "Keep Me Hangin' On," and it's the part where she sings, "Set me free, why don't you, babe; get outta my life, why don't you, babe," which I'm sure was a deliberate choice. Steve asks whether Alex is good in school. "When he's not being expelled for performing medical procedures on himself or dissecting squirrels in the school yard," she answers. Hey! I made a joke about that a few pages ago, completely forgetting she even said this line. That's...actually, that kind of scares me, on account of the fact that it means I think like the typewriter monkeys. Steve chuckles, but Sam insists that it's not funny. "He seems to like that Russian doctor," Steve observes. "Croatian," Sam says with a private little smile and glow. Steve asks if they're together, to which Sam replies, "We've gone out...nothing serious." Oh, shut UP, Sam. All that goodwill I'd tried to foster for her just diminished. That's both a lie and disrespectful to Luka, and of course is meant to make everyone wonder if she's still got unresolved feelings for Steve...ugh. There's no comparison. With all due respect to Cole Hauser, there's no way. He can't compete.
, Steve asks if Alex has friends, and Sam says he has a few. "That's good, considering how much you move around," Steve says, probably well aware of what a dig that is. "We go where the work is," Sam defends. Steve starts talking about how Chicago's great for that, but Sam cuts him off and demands to know how long he's planning to stay. "Sick of me already?" he says, with what he thinks is a charming smile, because he doesn't know that Josh Lucas is already the poor man's Matthew McConaughey -- which means Cole Hauser the broke, homeless, starving, flea-ridden, dumpster-diving man's Matthew McConaughey. Sam correctly observes that this isn't about her -- it's about Alex. "He seems happy I'm back," Steve says. "That's the problem. The longer you stay, the harder it's going to be on him when you leave," she says. I think she just created a huge problem for herself by calling him out on his bullshit. If he thought he had her fooled, he'd probably leave again in two days. Now, though, he stubbornly insists he won't leave this time. Sam blinks in irritation.
Pratt and Luka, while clearing the board, get around to discussing Seizure Mom. Pratt says that Medicine won't admit her, and Neurology doesn't believe she actually had a seizure. Luka thinks that since she didn't show typical symptoms of a seizure, they should discharge her and have her come for an outpatient EEG. Pratt points out that, with a baby at home, the stakes are higher if she passes out again. Since she's already waiting for a six-hour test to come back to rule out a heart problem, Pratt wants to give the EEG now.
Neela interrupts, basically just so that Luka can ask her when her research rotation starts. "Fifteen minutes," she says. "Good luck," Luka says. Neela toddles off, and I'm bored.
Pratt clears his throat and awkwardly asks Luka if it's awkward for him and the patient when he does a breast exam on an attractive woman. Luka nods as if this is a foregone conclusion, which is sort of interesting. "I'm just as nervous and uncomfortable as they are," Pratt says. "Maybe it comes across as something else." Luka is confused. "How do I do it so they don't think I'm enjoying myself?" he asks. Luka tells Pratt that he remembers it's just a clinical procedure, and Malarkey sails up to say that he imagines that the woman is his mother. "That always works. Unless your mom's hot, too," he giggles. Pratt calls him a freak. Pratt speaks the truth.
Neela's up in the lab, where a stereotypically geeky guy is taking her around what is obviously his domain. Poindexter uses all these really scientific words that mean nothing to me; the only interesting information is that he's an eighth-year Ph.D. student. "You don't get credit up here for wiping snotty noses. I've actually got to discover something new in neurology to get a degree. It takes a while." Perhaps he could use his high horse as a test subject. He introduces her to Yuri (hot Archie Kao from C.S.I.), their partner in the stroke study. Yeah, for Neela's sake, I hope Yuri is her partner in a stroke study, if you know what I mean, and I think you do. ...I'm talking about sex, see. Yuri smiles. But he's working over a mouse carcass. "No one said anything about working with animals," Neela says. "Is that a problem?" Yuri says, managing to make it sound like working with dead mice would be the dreamiest thing since eating ice cream off Luka's chest.
Seizure Mom's husband and adorable baby arrive, and Pratt explains that they're still trying to figure out what his wife's problems is. The guy goes in with his child, cooing and kissing its head, to keep his wife company.
Sam passes, so Pratt accosts her: "You know, when I ask you to assist on an exam for a female patient, it's so I don't get accused of things I didn't do." She snorts that she's not to blame for the hot water that's currently boiling him like so many eggs. "I did everything I could to put that patient at ease," he insists. "Guess it didn't work," she says, airily. God, she's no help at all. I hate her attitude. If she'd turned her head, like, thirty degrees, she could've kept an eye on things at the very least. Pratt says he was just trying to be friendly while he did it. "One man's 'friendly' is another woman's 'creepy,'" Sam quips. Well, she's right there. Glark should put that on some of his Urban Asshole cards so that we can pass it out at bars.
"You're a flirt, Pratt. You can't help it," says Sam. To repeat myself, that's why I think this storyline doesn't hold weight if the accusation came from Brunette. I think Sam is assuming that Pratt was being a bit oily because she already sees him as a flirt. "I wasn't flirting!" he says. I believe him. "Nice package, by the way," Sam coos. "We were noticing it earlier. Must be those pants." Pratt cottons onto her trick of making him feel like a sex object and refuses to bite. "I didn't say anything even remotely inappropriate to that woman," he says. "It was going through your head," Sam says. SHUT UP, SAM. How does she know that? I hate her today. And seriously, maybe I'm feverish, because I'm defending Pratt an awful lot, but this whole thing just seems annoying and contrived to me, and now we have to hear Sam spout off a dozen idiotic stereotypes about guys as if it's gospel, a truism women hold dear and pass down to other generations. Sam insists that Pratt was thinking what a great rack Brunette had, and that men only think about food, sports, and sex, because they're simple creatures, really -- morons, if you will. Except that she's just about described my perfect day -- with the exception of the sex, because my family reads these recaps, and I don't know what sex is or how it's done. Does it involve TiVo? "If they ever invent a refrigerator with a wide-screen TV and a vagina, we're all doomed," Sam says. She'd be shocked to learn how hard it was to find a guy in L.A. who likes sports and will watch them with me. I want to pull Sam's hair. Pratt's a little beleaguered by all this, but he listens, and occasionally snorts at her, because she's being really unfair in saying that all men like sex, and that therefore Pratt was secretly delighted that he was fondling a boob. By that logic, then, she'd have to ream Luka after he gave a breast exam, and you know she'd never even think of doing that. "When you check us out, you might as well be asking us to show you our tits, because that's what it feels like, and believe me, it's not a nice feeling," Sam concludes. She's not wrong in every case there, either; I just wish...I wish this whole scene had never happened. It made me so very vexed.
Malik yells for Pratt; Seizure Mom is at it again. In her room, the adorable baby is crying and the husband is panicking as Seizure goes to town with the convulsions. They manage to calm her down, but Luka calls Pratt out of the room and tells him that the EEG still doesn't show that as having been a real seizure. He tells Pratt to call Psych on her, because she was faking it. We fade to black on a dumbfounded and awestruck Pratt, because God knows no woman's ever faked it with him before, right? Right. Sure. Absolutely.
Up in the Psych ward, the Klingon guy talks to Abby. It's only here that I recognize him as the bus driver from Speed. She answers him in gutteral gibberish that apparently passes for Klingon; an approaching Big Ears is impressed. Abby is delighted with herself. "Good. We had to get rid of our Klingon translator in the most recent round of budget cuts," Big Ears says. He claims he's serious, and says his friend in Seattle just had to hire someone fluent in Elvish. "Thank you, Mr. Tolkien," he sighs. Oh, whatever. How do you actually get fluent in those languages, anyway? Memorizing the books? Abby smiles. Big Ears pauses, and then credits her with an interesting approach in the group. I can't figure out really how or why that worked, because I don't believe for a minute that her lighting a cigarette would've led to a lasting quietude. If it did, I'd be lighting one and running with it through my entire office building. Big Ears apologizes for throwing Abby into the deep end, but says it's the best way to gauge a student's worth, and he praises her for the way the patients responded to her. He claims it's heretofore unseen. "Of course, I've never seen anyone show as much disregard for hospital policy. I think you scared them," he grins. Abby gets paged to the ER, so she leaves; Big Ears calls out that she should try hypnosis to cure her smoking habit. God, he'd never have suggested putting her under if he knew what demons plumbing the depths of her psyche would summon.
And here is the shot that I'm sure we've all been dreaming of since we were wee enough to fantasize: a loving close-up of Jerry's nipple. Pratt squeezes it. I hope someone's secretly filming this for the hospital's blackmail file. We pull out to discover that Pratt's recreating for Weaver exactly what he did and said with Brunette, except that he's completely disquieted both by having to do this on Jerry and by Jerry's interested and pleasant expression. Jerry, I should point out, shaves his pits. Malik enters the room and stops short, gaping. "WHAT?" Pratt squawks. Malik stammers that Weaver's lawyer is there to see her. "Are we done here?" frowns Pratt. Weaver orders him to prepare a lecture for the medical students on gender sensitivity in physical examinations, and sails out of the room. Pratt leaves to go speak with the just-arrived Abby, passing an incredulous and mute Malik on the way out. Malik turns back to Jerry, who yanks up the sheet to cover his chest. "Do you mind?" he blushes.
Neela carries a tray of test tubes. Poindexter asks if she's bored yet. "I find it interesting," she says. "I prefer empirical data [to ER cases]." She totally sounds like she's parroting what other people think of her. As she smiles, she turns toward Yuri and promptly knocks into his coffee with the corner of his tray. It doesn't have a lid on it, so it spills all over his dead mouse. He accuses her of ruining his experiment and setting him back six weeks. Poindexter does point out that he shouldn't have coffee in the lab -- especially a lidless one, when lids are totally prolific at coffee places -- but Yuri pouts, "I always have coffee in the lab!" So? I always have Pop Tarts for breakfast. Doesn't make it right. Neela tries not to look discouraged.
Pratt briefs Abby on Seizure Mom, and Abby muses that her fake convulsions might be a subconscious form of postpartum depression. Pratt rubs her shoulders proudly and takes her to Seizure Mom's room, only to find that she's getting ready to leave. She's quite cold. Abby introduces herself, but Seizure stiffly says, "I told you I don't need a shrink. I have to go. My husband's waiting." And with that, she leaves, ignoring Pratt's plea for her to stay so they can help her. "That was my easiest consult all day," Abby observes.
Oh my God. I'm suddenly feeling like this episode will never end.
Sam is outside putting someone into a car. As she heads back inside, Luka stops her to show her some pictures from their camping weekend. She's thrilled with them, and they're cute snaps. "You can keep those -- I got double prints," he says adorably. She thanks him. Luka takes his leave, but Sam calls after him to apologize, "I didn't know he was coming." Luka blinks. "I'll see you tomorrow," he says. Sam watches him go, looking genuinely sad. I'm not sure why she wouldn't sack up and tell Steve that Luka is her boyfriend. Might help her deal with Steve better.
Pratt finds Elizabeth and asks her how Rena did in surgery. She's short a spleen, it seems, but otherwise very lucky. As they finish talking, Hot Dr. Lawson leans on the desk and flirts with Elizabeth about her long day. Then he asks her to dinner. "I can't tonight," she glows. "Can't eat?" he asks. "Not with you!" she giggles. Then she hears the elevator ding, and her face falls and turns pale. Lawson notices. Elizabeth tries to play it off like the approaching person is a very ill patient, and tries to get away, but she can't; sure enough, Minivan appears in the shot and begins to give her an affectionate hello that she successfully ducks out of without arousing his suspicion. Lawson's totally on to her game, though, and bids her a very stiff goodnight. Elizabeth looks like she wants to fall through any opening in the floor she can find, even if it sends her to the circle of Hell in which she'd have to relive in perpetuity her marriage to Mark. "What's with the James Bond routine?" Minivan asks. "He's English," Elizabeth says, hustling him into the elevator. "That's nice. A little taste of home," Minivan says. "Mmmm," Elizabeth says, facing the door so that she can freak out.
Abby begs Weaver for more nursing shifts so that she doesn't have to drop out of school again. Weaver is crying. Abby softens. "You okay?" she asks. "Kerry, you have to take some time off to give yourself time to grieve!" Weaver shakes her head sadly and points out that she's too busy fighting to keep her son after losing her wife. Weaver tiredly tells Abby that she's been arguing with lawyers all day just to wangle one weekend with Henry. She's clearly emotionally spent. Abby asks if there's anything she can do, and seem genuinely distraught for Weaver; Kerry, in turn, offhandedly tells her that the registrar claims Abby's tuition is paid through graduation. Abby's flabbergasted.
Outside, Weaver signs an agreement that she'll return Henry to Casa Lopez before noon on Monday. Florina glares at her as she does it; Sandy's sympathetic brother, who is also kind of hot, hands over Henry and delights in the way Weaver lights up when she's with him. "Not all of us think the way my parents do," he says. "I know Sandy would be pissed if she knew what was happening. She'd be cursing up a storm." Weaver's heartened by this, but mostly just overjoyed to be holding her son. She kisses his cheek so that we get a full frontal of his face, and God, this show's good at getting cute babies. "I hope it works out for the two of you," the brother smiles. Think he'll be as nice and honest in court? I wonder.
Abby walks outside and stares up at a loitering Carter with a glint in her eye. "What are you doing?" she grins. "Waiting for an ambulance," he says innocently. "I'm not taking your money," she says. Apparently Carter overheard her and decided to pay her tuition for her, without asking. Which is nice, but also a little bit pushy. Someone digs playing God. Abby doesn't want to borrow from her friends, but Carter insists that he doesn't expect it back. "In the time it's taken us to have this little conversation, I've made your salary for the rest of your life, with interest," he says. I wanted to hate him for saying it that way, but I actually understand that he was trying to say, "I have a shitload of money I never intended to inherit, and this is a tiny chunk of change I won't even notice is gone, so it's all good." Abby seems to appreciate this logic, but vows to pay him back. Then she hops on the back of a motorcycle with some random dude who showed up to get her. What? This is weird. Even Carter's like, "Whaaa?"
When Rena wakes up, Pratt is with her. He gently explains that the intubation made her throat hurt. "Didn't think you'd come," she admits. "I said I would," he replies. "I think you said you'd call me, too," she says, but without bitterness. He smiles, and eventually cops -- with her prodding -- to the fact that he doesn't remember her. She doesn't mind, and we leave the episode on Pratt offering to contact Rena's mother. Who knows. It's a strange last two scenes. The whole episode had a lot of "meh" in it.