Props to Key Grip, with whom Sars and I recapped My So-Called Life; to Omar G and Joanna, with whom Glark and I recapped Survivor (and special props to Omar for taking me to the Radiohead show this week and thus changing my life); to Cate and maggie, with whom I recapped Freaks & Geeks (and yes, Virginia, there will be recaps of the three remaining unaired episodes, so STOP ASKING ME, my god); to Pooh, Gustave, and Djb, with whom I watched this episode, and who were my guests this week, thus providing me with an excuse for delaying writing this recap; and, finally, to my blood-sister Sars, for sharing my brain and taking such good care of it. ["Any time, babe. time I won't return it smelling like smoke." -- Sars]
Previously on ER: I made the mistake of ceding half the recapping duties to Sars and cursed my stupidity. Also, the ER staff confronted Carter about his drug use and, in a fit of pique, he quit; Benton confronted him some more, and made poor Carter cry, then hugged him and accompanied him on a plane ride. (I suspect there were more "previouslys" than that, but I had houseguests! Okay, they got cut off. I blame Global, for reasons Canadians will understand.)
Like the alarm clock signalling the end of my recapping summer, a buzzer sounds, and we open on a couple of pairs of feet striding along a highly polished hardwood floor. A super at the bottom tells us, first, that we're in "Atlanta," and that it's "May." The camera pans up to show the determined visage of Peter "Not Wallace" Benton, and the haggard mug of John "Get" Carter. Carter's tie and dress shirt are undone and his hair is sticking up all Rooster Hannigan again; he looks generally dishevelled and resigned -- the latter of which you can tell by the grim line in which his lips are set. Carter glances about warily, letting Benton take the lead. Benton approaches a counter at a glassed-in booth. A nurse with a loud and piercing speaking voice spits, "Name?" Benton quietly gives Carter's and says that someone should have called ahead. Nurse Bitchy appraises Benton suspiciously and disappears into her cube. Carter leans against a wall, rubbing his forehead and labouring to clear his throat. Nurse Bitchy emerges from the cubicle, gives Carter the stink-eye for a little while, and then hands him a form, assuring him that all the information is confidential, and that Carter can sit down on a nearby bench. Carter makes for the bench like a starving man makes for a steak, and Benton follows at a discreetly respectful yet solicitous distance. Carter glances at the form and asks Benton, "Ninety days? This is a three-month program?" Apparently his prescription-drug addiction hasn't impaired his cipherin' abilities. Benton, perhaps rattled that Carter's not so far gone that he can't figure out the length of his imminent stay, stammers that he guesses so. Carter wearily closes his eyes and leans back on the bench, bitterly asking whether Benton will send him some clothes, or whether "they issue prison garb here." Benton elects not to acknowledge Carter's druggy histrionics. Carter sighs loudly and starts to fill in the form, before muttering that the pen doesn't work. He throws it onto the bench (hey, that shit's upholstered, dog. Were you raised in a barn? You better hope it doesn't stain) and, voice breaking, petulantly calls for a new pen. Benton leans into the cube and tells Nurse Bitchy, "He's diaphoretic and cramping." Nurse Bitchy tells Benton, "We'll take care of it." Benton asks when, and she crisply replies, "Soon." Benton tells her, "He has tremors. He needs something." Nurse Bitchy (who actually is not that bitchy, really, but I had to call her something, and there just aren't that many famous nurses in history. Like, she doesn't have long nails, so I can't call her FloJo Nightengale, and who else is left? Nurse Ratched? I got nothing, here) soothingly advises Benton that he should leave. In the foreground, Carter sits on the bench and makes a herculean effort to maintain, man. Nurse Bitchy explains, "It's important that he checks [sic] himself in." Immediately, I asked the room-at-large (containing, as I said, Sars, Gustave, Pooh, and Djb) whether it shouldn't be "It's important that he check himself in," because it's the subjunctive mode; Pooh said no, but Sars said yes, and since she invented grammar, I defer to her. Benton gets a new pen, which he gently hands to Carter, along with the form Carter had angrily thrown down on the bench. Benton quietly asks, "You, uh...you good from here?" Carter looks startled that Benton is leaving him, but plays it off and murmurs, "Yeah, I guess so." Benton smiles and assures him, "Carter, you can do this." Carter tries his best not to cry; Noah Wyle does a really good job making his face look completely vulnerable. Carter says nothing. Benton ambles off. Carter watches him go, frankly terrified.
M.C. Escher-esque seemingly endless flight of stairs, shot from below. We hear Carter before we see him, as he breathes very heavily and asks Nurse Bitchy for some compazine. She tells him she'll give him something after "group," if he's still nauseous then. Carter repeats, "Group?" and she explains that she's referring to group therapy. He asks when that is, and she says, "Now...the entire group meets whenever a new patient arrives." Carter leans over the railing and spits on the floor several storeys below. Uh. Monogrammed handkerchief? Kleenex? Wadded-up first-class airline napkin? No? Nice. Not. They round a bend and Carter stops to lean on the newel post. Nurse Bitchy stops with her back to him, rolling her eyes, and asks (rather disingenuously, if you ask me), "Ready?" Carter says that he isn't, and that he needs to lie down. She briskly informs him, "You'll make it." Carter yells, "Group therapy is not what I need right now!" Nurse Bitchy turns around and goes all tough love on his ass: "If you want to be in the program, you do the program. Otherwise, you can leave, and when you want a fix, you can score down on Tenth and Piedmont, which is six blocks down, one block over. Those guys are out there all night." I'm no addiction specialist, but is that really productive? Plus, don't junkies have their own built-in OnStar when it comes to sniffing out (as it were) a dealer? It's probably not like he needs her to draw him a map. She proceeds down the stairs, and Carter staggers along behind her, clearing his throat and, I'm guessing, still trying not to cry. Nurse Bitchy opens a door, where several patients are sitting and one dude (the leader, I'm guessing) is standing. "John Carter?" the apparent leader asks, as the camera frames Carter's face. He bravely answers: "Yes."
The opening credits begin. Sars giggles, rubbing it in. I throw a Twizzler at her. She eats it.
Over a shot of Kerry "Cane and Able" Weaver loudly calling for Security as something crashes through a glass window -- yes, within the first four minutes of the episode -- breaking it, a super in the bottom right corner tells us it's now "September." Funny, I thought it was "October," but I guess someone didn't take into account the fucking Olympics. Someone else didn't watch the fucking Olympics. The second person was me. As a large man runs (like a girl -- it must be observed) through the hall, Cleo "I Guess She'll Do in a" Finch chases after him, imploring him to put the needle down. The Running Man yells back that he told her, "no needles!" Weaver chimes in that she told Finch to put the patient in restraints. Finch yells, "I did!" and, hurrying after him, asks Lily to call for extra Security. The ER is in even worse disarray than usual, with garbage bags piled up on the floor and on top of shelves and carts in the hallway. Replace the phrase "garbage bags" with the word "towels," and you'll have an idea of what it looked in my second-floor hallway last week after the sixth occupant of our house had satisfied his or her Urge to Herbal. I swear, Gustave used a different towel to dry each of his toes individually.
Finch disappears down the hall (never to be seen again? If only). Malik informs Weaver that there's a toilet plugged in the men's restroom. (That happened last week, too, but I think the culprit was Glark.) "So unplug it," Weaver suggests in a "don't fuck with me -- no, really, do NOT fuck with me" voice. Malik tells her that he doesn't have a plunger, and that the maintenance closet is locked. Weaver notices "Dr." Dave Malucci wheeling a logy-looking pregnant woman down the hall, and asks him why a Mr. Hunter is still in the hall. Dr. Dave exposits that "transpo's backed up; half their guys staged a sympathy sick-out to support the janitors." Weaver screeches at him to take Mr. Hunter down himself, and Dr. Dave whines, "Can't we just give these guys their raise?" Weaver sarcastically brays that she'll recommend Dr. Dave for the negotiating committee. Malik pesters her about the maintenance closet and she tells him to take some initiative, indicating that he should open the closet, and she doesn't care how he does so. All of us watching in the Game Room notice before Weaver does that some old dude sitting in a wheelchair in the hall (with his back to us, thank god) is introducing Rosie Palm and her five sisters to Mr. Johnson. Weaver begs someone to put him in an exam room. An officious female voice (coming out of a med student who somehow got elected Queen among her idiot fellows) snips at Weaver, "Excuse me...we've been waiting here for a while. Shouldn't we be doing something?" Weaver deadpans, "Do you have any plumbing experience?" and crutches off before the little no-go-non-getter can answer. Mark "Swinger" Greene -- wearing...ugh...sunglasses and too-light chinos and trying to look as cool as a prematurely bald man possibly can (in other words, not looking at all cool) -- comes in and breezily asks Weaver what happened. Weaver retorts, "You know what, Mark? Just don't start with me, okay?" Oh Jesus. Word. Kerry, girlfriend, skive off work and we'll go to Evanston for a Jamba Juice -- my treat -- and we'll talk this whole thing out. Here's a preview. Step one: get yourself into a position where you can fire Mark's bald ass. Step two: fire him. Step three? There is no step three. That one desk dude with the flattop tells Mark, "Custodial staff is on strike." Noting that the walls around the desk are gone, Mark drawls, "Yeah, so they had to destroy the admit desk?" Flattop adds, "This is a remodel -- open floor plan. It's supposed to be safer. I've already scratched myself on a nail twice." Weaver helpfully advises him to update his tetanus, and, the kindness out of the way, demands, "Where are my fans?" Dude, I am right here! Flattop says he's working on it, and shambles off. Mark swaps his sunglasses for his prissy little grandma specs, and asks Weaver, "What's the deal?" Exhaustedly, Weaver offers, "I don't know. You know, the construction workers won't cross the picket line." Mark sniffs, "Oh, you mean those three guys I saw out there with signs?" Nice attitude toward labour, Lucille Bald. "George" Luka Kovac appears just in time for Sars and Pooh to launch a spirited debate. Proposed: Luka's hair looked better last season. Sars vigorously argues the Pro position, whereas Pooh takes Con. It's a draw, with Sars's "bear claw" argument finding a lot of support. Anyway, Luka asks Mark how Mark's vacation was and whether he went anywhere; Mark says it was good and that he went to Wisconsin Dells. Mark, just because you have the hairline of a fifty-five-year-old man doesn't mean you have to emulate his leisure preferences, too. As a melée breaks out in chairs, Mark complains that the board isn't on the wall and asks where it's supposed to go. "Don't ask," advises Flattop. Luka asks whether the construction workers took out a wall they weren't supposed to, and Flattop reminds him, "And we're not supposed to talk about it." Mark watches the scrap like the useless lump of carbon he is. Luka watches, also, but he looks a lot better doing it. Abby "Lisa" Lockhart strolls behind the desk, dressed all in black except for her lab coat (which looks pretty hot), and sporting a haircut that makes Luka's look like the Platonic ideal of hair; Lisa's is oddly razored around the ends and back, and looks like she cut it herself. Without a mirror. In the dark. But at least she doesn't have to worry about putting it up anymore. Lisa comments that the med students look like twelve-year-olds. Mark asks how long they've been waiting; Luka says, "Three hours," and Weaver corrects him: "Two and a half." Mark offers to take them, and Weaver tells him that's fine, but that he should make sure to see some patients as well. She walks out around the end of the desk, straight past an axe-wielding Malik. She's like, "Malik?" He's like, "What." She's like, "MALIK!" Finally, the scene, and the opening credits, end. I've been writing this fucking thing for two hours already. I miss Dawson. No, I really do.
Dr. Amy Aquino, the thorn in Mark's side (and, therefore, my girlfriend), is pointing at an ultrasound image of a baby, and saying that everything looks fine. She adds that she's got a good angle if the (as yet unseen) mother wants to know the sex, and a voice says, "Sure." Dr. Amy says, "You are having a boy. Congratulations." The camera pans over to a super-tight close-up of Jing-Mei "Deb" Chen's face (the better to conceal the fact that Ming-Na is already very pregnant) as she says, "Thank you." Blood sugar. Anemic. Iron? Yes. Dr. Amy asks whether Chen has asked Weaver for time off after the baby's born. Chen says she hasn't, yet. Dr. Amy gently says, "You still have time," and Chen confesses, "Actually, I haven't told anyone yet." Dr. Amy says that she should, since she won't be able to keep the secret much longer. Chen agrees, without much enthusiasm. Shall we start a pool as to who the father could be? TV being what it is, I'm going to say that the only possible father is the only other Asian-American character on television: Father Ray Mukada from Oz.
Oh, Jeebus. Why won't someone close to Noah Wyle just tell him that he shouldn't grow facial hair, like, ever? He's at the clinic, shooting pool, and sporting a very unfortunate and embarrassing little half-assed Maynard G. Krebs beard with no moustache. Anyway, he exposits, "So what are you supposed to talk about in an exit interview, anyway?" John Doe (for it is he; Pooh said it was, and I said it wasn't, and I was wrong. I think he's lost weight; his neck looks thinner than it was in Boogie Nights) says you're supposed to say that you don't have all the answers, and Carter says, "No argument there." John Doe: Scared? Carter: Can't remember a time when I wasn't. John Doe: Good. Carter: That's it? John Doe: "We're like the Army, okay? We break you down, make you face your addiction, then we build you up. You start to function. You feel healthy, confident." Carter chalks his cue and mutters, "Don't worry. Pride is what got me into this." John Doe says, "Yeah..." and, with his back to John Doe, Carter snorts and rolls his eyes. John Doe continues, "And deep down you feel like this is something that just happened to you." Carter disagrees: "No, I took responsibility. I take responsibility. I'm going to get my life back. It's not going to beat me." John Doe decides that now is the time to make it all about John Doe: "Yeah. That's what I thought. The first three times. But I hope you do." Yeah, he's really lost weight. Anyway. He drops a card on the pool table (and who buys a pool table with puke-orange felt? It looks like a cheap guitar case) and tells Carter to call anytime, day or night, if he wants to talk. Carter snaps, "Are we done?" John Doe twelve-steps: "You're just getting started." Carter hoarsely says, "Is this where I'm supposed to say thank you?" John Doe says, "Some people do." Carter sticks out his hand and, without meeting John Doe's eye, murmurs, "Thank you." John Doe says, "You're welcome." John Doe, ladies and gentlemen! Meet him again for the first time.
In his office, and with Benton behind him, Robert "Rocket" Romano suspends a ceremonial knife of some kind from a strand of fishing wire. A frazzled Elizabeth "Key Limey" Corday pushes open the door, causing Romano to observe, dryly, that "someone's still on vacation time." She apologizes breathlessly and asks whether they've finished the interview; Romano says they were just getting to that. Elizabeth nervously rubs her palms together as Romano asks where they left off last time, and Benton cracks, "You were just about to give me the job." Did Benton just make a joke? On his own? As the citizens of Hell think about getting their sweaters out of storage, Romano commends Benton for "developing a sense of humour," and they all sit down. Faculty responsibilities. Attending. Resident research. Benton says he likes working with residents, and Romano calls him a liar, says that he likes abusing residents, and that he doesn't "exactly have the best track record when it comes to research." OH BURN. (We all remember the Ron Rifkin plot line? Dr. Vucelich? Heart-disease research? Fudged results? Right?) Benton calmly replies, "That can change." As Elizabeth continues worrying her hands like a dog at a bone, Romano asks where else Benton applied. Benton says, "You can't ask me that," and without a trace of emotion, Romano retorts, "Oh, no. Someone call the Interview Police. Has anyone offered you anything?" Benton reminds Romano that he can't ask that either, but Romano presses him until Benton cagily offers, "I've looked elsewhere as a backup, but Gideon's Crossing wasn't hiring, City of Angels already has two hunks on staff, and Chicago Hope's been cancelled." Just kidding. He says he'd prefer to stay at County as an attending. Elizabeth stares at him intently. Woman, take your meds! Romano pretty much says the same thing, in question form, and she says, "My hands itch, for some reason." Romano's pager goes off and he tells her to cut it out, before inspecting his pager. Benton glances at her hands and asks, "Linear vesicles, probably a phytodermatitis. Are you allergic to any plants?" Wow, good thing he was there, because where else could Dr. Corday get an expert medical opinion? She tells him she doesn't think she has any plant allergies. He asks if she has a garden, and she offers, "I went camping." Romano drawls, "Tell me you know what poison ivy looks like." I wouldn't be able to identify poison ivy on a bet, and I've been camping. Wide-eyed, Elizabeth repeats, "Poison ivy. Is that in Wisconsin?" "Oh, boy," Romano snorts, and books, telling Benton they'll have to pick this up again later. Benton asks when, Romano carelessly says that his office will take care of it and, as he takes off, Benton mutters, "He's never going to give me this job." Elizabeth, rubbing her palms together with great gusto, says, "Of course he will, he's just being Robert." Benton tells her not to scratch, blah blah, the usual, and Elizabeth asks, "It won't spread, will it?" Benton replies, "Well, that depends on what you touched last, before you washed your hands." He leaves, and she breathes, "Oh, dear." Get it? Because she was in Wisconsin with Mark, and...get it? With Mark? And they were...do you get it now? How about now? No?
Well, fortunately for you, the shot is Mark...inducing hysterical blindness across North America by having a good old-fashioned scratch at his nads. Sars contends that this is a shout-out to me, since Mark is scratching his nads while always being on mine. Fortunately for the generation of America's doctors, Mark uses his other hand to distribute orientation packets to the students. Blah blah tour blah the only stupid question is the one you don't answercakes. Dr. Dave and his new nasty-ass highlights overhear and he tells Mark he has a question: "Something wrong with the Australian boys?" Mark glances around chairs for aggressive rugby players or Suzuki Outback endorsers, but Dr. Dave explains, "You're scratching Down Under." Mark is shocked to have been observed despite the fact that he was scooping up heaping mittfuls of testicle, there, and Dr. Dave says, "Oh, yeah. Doesn't make a good first impression." Hee! Mark lunges toward the counter, perhaps hoping to catch some of the students as they snicker, "Dude, did you check out Scratchy McGoodies? Talk about your Doc Itch [tm Lingo]." Just kidding, he actually lunges toward the counter because paramedics are wheeling in a trauma: a seventeen-year-old high-school football player named Mike Palmieri "got hi-lowed in mid-air," suffered a brief loss of consciousness, and complains of neck and chest pain. Dr. Dave asks whether Mike can move his extremities, and Doris says that he can, but that because of the numbness in Mike's hands, the paramedics didn't want to take his helmet off. Mark thanks her, tells Dr. Dave he's got Mike and that Dr. Dave should give the med students the tour, and introduces himself to Mike. Very calmly (considering), Mike asks whether his neck is broken; Mark brightly tells Mike that they'll check that out.
In a trauma room, Mark asks whether Mike's chest hurts. Mike says that it does, a little: "The safety speared me with his helmet on the way down." Haleh says that Mike's "tachy at 120," Mark announces that there are good breath sounds bilaterally, and Mike continues giving us the play-by-play: "That's illegal. Second play of the game. They were looking to take me out." Uh, Mike? The set of Remember the Titans is thattaway. Blah blah, they were our rivals, blah, homecoming, blah.
Dr. Dave leads the med-student tour into a trauma, where Luka is rather languidly calling out orders to Malik. Dr. Dave is all swagger, "Does she have a pulse?" The camera shows the patient on the table; it's a white-haired and very white-skinned woman on whom Luka is doing compressions. "Oh. She's dead," Dr. Dave observes astutely. "I know," says Luka. "Like, blue dead," adds Dr. Dave. The med students totally don't break their wrists getting down this bit of precise medical jargon for future reference. Malik says, "Pulse ox 65," and Dr. Dave repeats, "That's because she's dead." Luka patiently explains, "Her husband drove her in," and flicks his head toward the glass doors, where, I swear to God, B.B. Andersen from Survivor is watching with a worried expression. Weaver pushes through the doors beside B.B., keeping her head down. Dr. Dave says, "Oh. Right." Lisa chirps, "Still asystole." Dr. Dave asks if, since they're faking it anyway, one of the med students may use Mrs. B.B. to practice CPR. Weaver briefly shakes her head, and Luka says, "No." Everyone keeps looking at B.B. instead of at Mrs. B.B., like that's not totally suspicious. Luka tells Dr. Dave to go tell B.B. that his wife is very sick. Dr. Dave observes, "She...can't get any sicker." Okay, heh. Luka makes this really funny get-the-fuck-out-of-my-face-doofus face (but with a Croatian accent), and Weaver tells Dr. Dave to give B.B. some time to prepare himself. In the hall, Dr. Dave tries to look more sincere than amphibian. Weaver tells Lisa that the registrar didn't put Lisa's name on her roster, and asks whether she's sure she's registered. Okay, my dad is a university registrar. Shout-out? Weaver figures that the registrar's offer must just be backed up because of the strike. B.B. and Luka exchange looks. Luka has a bad poker face. But a good face in every other respect.
Carter checks out of the clinic. "Checking out?" asks Nurse Bitchy. Well. Yes. Sitting on that same bench Carter did three months (or twelve minutes, depending on your perspective) ago is a doctor with an aquiline nose and slightly curly hair who bears a striking enough resemblance to Rick Rossovich that everyone in the Game Room asked, as if in one voice, "Is that Tag?" By which, of course, we meant Dr. Taglieri, Carol's ultimately jilted fiancé from the first season. He never speaks and we never get a good enough look at his face to tell whether it's him or not. I like to think it is, and that the ER writers are trying to show that it is still possible for them to be subtle sometimes. Nurse Bitchy hands Carter a piece of paper and says that Benton called to confirm Carter's flight, and said that he'd pick Carter up at the gate. Tag and Carter exchange a look, but it isn't clear whether they recognize each other. Carter signs himself out and says goodbye to Nurse Bitchy. He'll be back. Or will he? Should we start a pool on that, too? ["I'm in for five bags of Combos: he goes back on the junk but doesn't go back to rehab." -- Sars]
After the break, Lisa is in the trauma room putting a sheet over Mrs. B.B. Luka asks where B.B. is, and she doesn't know; Luka steps out into the hall and sees B.B. barrelling up to him with the requisite sad little baggie of medication. Luka suggests that B.B. sit down, and gently breaks the news that Mrs. B.B. didn't make it. B.B. cries, but tries to be strong. It's sad. Flustered, B.B. quavers, "You see? I should have called the ambulance sooner. I should have gotten her here quicker!" Luka gently says, "There is nothing you could have done differently that would have saved her. It was just her time." He asks B.B. whether he'd like to see his wife. B.B. nods, and starts to get up, but loses his strength and falls back down into his chair. Luka helps him up by the arm...
...as Mark and Elizabeth round the corner. She (in bright blue rubber gloves): how was I supposed to know? He: leaves of three, let it blah. She: there is no poison ivy in England, so how would I know that? He: my balls are itchy. Ow! Mark checks out his own action using a penlight, and moans, "Oh, man." She asks to see (ma'am, haven't you seen enough to scar you for a lifetime?), but Mark pushes her off, saying, "You've done enough damage." She: do you have it? He: yes. Me: would that it were all over your phallic body and so severe that you'd have to stay home.
Mark and Elizabeth emerge into the hallway as he continues admonishing her for her mistake, because that's productive. Lily gives him Mike's x-rays, and Elizabeth, apparently incapable of leaving well enough alone, reminds him of the circumstances by which he contracted poison ivy in the first place. It seems that skinny-dipping was involved. I'M SORRY. Mark continues dissing her over the high cost he's had to pay for her hand-job (which, if I were Elizabeth, I'd take as my instruction never to put my hand anywhere near his job again) and then heartily tells Mike that his x-rays are fine. Haleh tells Mark that Mike's mom is out in chairs. Mark heads off to chairs to find Mrs. Palmieri. On his way out, Elizabeth asks whether Mark wants the cream or the shot, and Mark says, "Probably both." I hope he plans to apply that cream himself then, and I further hope the transaction doesn't make it anywhere near a camera.
In chairs, the poor man's Lesley Ann Warren (or the white-trash Sally Field, according to Gustave), a.k.a. Kay Lenz, is anxiously rubbing her eyes. Mark introduces himself and tells her that Mike's neck x-ray came back normal. She asks why his hands were numb, and Mark suggests that it's because Mike was hyperventilating, which can cause numbness in the extremities. She confirms that Mike hasn't suffered any nerve damage, and Mark assures her that there are, further, no broken bones, spinal-cord injuries, or paralysis. Mrs. Palmieri asks whether she may see him, and Mark directs one of the med students (Queen Pushy; remember? We met her earlier) to take Mrs. Palmieri to Mike's trauma room.
Mark scuttles over to Dr. Dave, who is applying something to the arm of a man wearing a chicken hat. Dr. Dave asks after Mark's jock itch, and Mark scolds him for leaving the med students unattended. Whatever. Dr. Dave tries to foist them on Finch, who's having none of it. She joins Benton beside the bed of Mr. Fletcher, whom Sars correctly identifies as someone we've already seen on the show as a kidney patient. Benton scolds Mr. Fletcher for not taking adequate care of his dressings. Finch asks Benton how the meeting went. Benton says that Romano rescheduled again; Finch asks what's wrong with Romano, and Benton mutters, "He's a maniacal sadist." "What did you call me?" growls Mr. Fletcher. Benton snaps, "Not you, Mr. Fletcher." As Dr. Dave drones on to the poor med students about the charting system, Finch flicks her head toward the group and comments, "What's wrong with this picture? Those med students -- not a black face in the bunch." Benton glances up and grunts noncommittally. Finch asks, "That doesn't concern you?" Benton says that he doesn't consider five med students to be a representative sample. Finch huffs, "I'm glad you take such an active interest," and flounces off. Mr. Fletcher groans, and Benton tells him to hold still. Mr. Fletcher asks, "She your wife?" Benton quickly replies, "No, no, no, no." Mr. Fletcher notes, "She talk like she your wife." "Yes, yes, yes, yes," Benton agrees, and they both laugh. Heh.
Lisa brings B.B. a chair. He silently stares at Mrs. B.B.'s face. Lisa says that someone will come to take Mrs. B.B. to the morgue, but that it could take a while. B.B. still doesn't say anything. Lisa asks whether he has a funeral home in mind, and offers to call. B.B. says that his wife took care of that and that he doesn't remember the name. Lisa says that she'll call if he remembers the name. He asks whether he may stay with Mrs. B.B., and Lisa says that he may stay as long as he likes.
Lisa walks out of the room and into a storage room, where Luka is checking something against a slip of paper in his hand. She: it was good of you to work on his wife. He: part of the job. She: he could be worse off if he thought he was responsible. He: he does; he's alive, she's not. She: [awkward segue alert] I wonder how long they were married, hint hint. He: forever, probably. How long have you been married? She: I'm not. I'M NOT! I SWEAR! TAKE ME! He: I thought someone said you were married. She: I was, but my divorce just became final last month. So I'm single. Totally single. And ready to mingle. With you. And by "mingle" I mean "fuck." He: I'm sorry about your divorce. She: don't be; I'm not. He: is Lockhart your name or his? She: his, but I'm keeping it, since it's the only good thing that I got out of the whole mess. He: what was your name before? She: Wyczenski. He: yeah, Lockhart's better. Haleh: Where's Mark? Lisa: Either off scratching his nads, or in sutures. Haleh: Weaver's looking for you. Lisa: d'oh!
Haleh heads off in search of Mark, and interrupts him mid-shot, administered by Elizabeth. Mark plays it off, and Haleh turns her back, insisting, "I didn't see anything!" and snickering. She tells him Mike is having trouble breathing, and heads off, snickering.
Remember Mike, who was having trouble breathing? Mark heads into his trauma room and asks, "Mike, how's your breathing?" Apparently he's having trouble. Now you're up to date. He has some pain in his abdomen. Mark tells Haleh to book a CT and asks where Mrs. Palmieri is. Mike says she went to check on the score: "If we're losing, I need to get back." Mark says he'll be getting another x-ray, and will definitely not be back in the game tonight.
Mark finds Mrs. Palmieri at the phone, and tells her that Mike might have a broken rib, and that he needs to have another CT to make sure it didn't nick his liver. Mrs. Palmieri asks what it would mean if Mike's liver were nicked, and Mark explains that it's a remote possibility that they have to rule out. She starts babbling about hating that he plays football, keeps his grades up, blah blah blah, like, shut up, Hysterica! Mark says Mike will probably be fine, and that he'll check back with her when he has any news.
Mark calls to Chen -- who is conveniently obscured behind a large piece of...something, and daydreaming -- and tells her to get Elizabeth to meet him at CT. Weaver crutches through the desk toward a trauma patient; it's a player from the team opposing Mike's. He says "they nailed [him] after the play. The ref didn't even call it." He has an open tibial fracture, which looks incredibly nasty; the bone is sticking straight up and out. As the medical professionals lead the latest victim of sports-related violence to a trauma room, Mrs. Palmieri gets right up to the bed and starts tagging along between Weaver and Chen (because that's not inappropriate), yelping, "Fifty-five! That's the number! That's the number of the guy who hit Mike!" Fifty-Five protests, "It was a clean hit!" Lily pokes her head in to say that there's a gunshot wound victim coming in as well, and that he or she is crashing in the rig. Weaver asks Flattop (hereafter "Frank") what's open, and Frank mentions the "stiff" in Trauma Two. Weaver demands of no one in particular, "Clear it!" Mrs. Palmieri screeches at poor Fifty-Five, "You led with your helmet! You're not supposed to lead with your helmet!" Chen hustles her off to chairs. Fifty-Five yells, "It was an accident!" Mrs. Palmieri screams, "It was a cheap shot!" Fifty-Five moans, "What do you call breaking my leg on purpose?" "Payback!" shrieks Mrs. Palmieri. Save it for Passions, Kay, because I am sure they're going to call you after this.
Carter and the little tag-along on his chin luxuriate in First Class. The flight attendant passes out hot towels. Someday.... Anyway, the dude to Carter completely ignores Carter's leave-me-alone body language and asks Carter whether he's from Atlanta or Chicago. Carter says, "Chicago." Seatmate asks whether he was in Atlanta on business, and Carter curtly says, "No." "Vacation?" Seatmate persists, and Carter -- now leaning back and closing his eyes in a manner that certainly suggests, to me at least, that he's not in a chattin' mood -- says he was just visiting a friend. Seatmate asks the now practically sleeping Carter what he does for a living. Carter lies that he's a high-school English teacher. Seatmate marvels, "Wow, and you fly First Class, huh? They must pay teachers pretty well in Chicago!" Carter unbuckles his seatbelt and, with a wry smile, breathes, "Excuse me," and heads for the bathroom.
In the bathroom, Carter runs the water in the sink and stares at himself. After a moment, he unzips a bag.
Lisa walks briskly through the halls and is pulled up short by the sight of B.B. sitting to Mrs. B.B.'s stretcher, out in the hallway. B.B. sadly explains, "They needed the room." Lisa offers the probably disingenuous consolation, "We'll find her another room." Right. Because in an emergency-room setting, your priority is to make sure that deceased patients are conveniently housed. B.B. asks, "Are they coming to get her?" Fifty-Five's stretcher comes flying out of the trauma room; Finch does compressions on his chest. Malik tells Weaver that there's an assaulted cheerleader coming in; she suffered a bat to the face. Awesome! Oh -- ouch! Weaver makes sure the patient gets into the elevator. Lisa asks Weaver whether she's finished with the trauma room. Weaver says she's glad she found Lisa. Lisa starts explaining about B.B. and his wife, but Weaver doesn't have time to sugar-coat it, and runs right over her: "Look, I checked with the medical-school registrar, and they've retracted your clerkship." "What?!" Lisa squeals. Dr. Dave comes between them with a cheerleader laid out on a stretcher. Weaver yells, "Is that from the football game, too?" Lisa is less interested in the physical trauma than she might be under other circumstances, and Weaver continues, "Something about a delinquent tuition notice." Lisa apologizes and says that her ex-husband was supposed to pay it, and that she'll take care of it tomorrow. Yes, and when you do, be aggressive! B-E aggressive! Weaver gently says, "Abby, you don't understand; you need to go home. You're not covered to work on patients...Once a clerkship is pulled, it's pulled! Nothing I can do. You have to wait until the academic quarter." "In -- in three months?" Lisa asks. The trauma comes in and Weaver tells Lisa to turn in her lab coat and ID to Frank. Lisa storms down the hall, tearing off her lab coat and slamming her stuff down in front of Frank. She runs into Luka in the hall (literally -- ooh, that's rough. Not rough enough! I -- well, I've said too much already) and apologizes. He asks her what's wrong, but she stomps into the ambulance bay without answering him -- nor tearing off her shirt and pants along with her lab coat.
After the break (ten pages and I'm only halfway through this? Kill me), Carter returns to his seat having -- thank god -- shaved off his chin pubes. Seatmate tells him he looks good, and recommends that he choose the fish. Carter says he's not hungry. A stern-looking flight attendant stands beside their row and says, "Excuse me, Dr. Carter? Were you smoking in the lavatory?" Carter pauses, apparently considering whether to lie, and finally smiles and admits, "Yes." The flight attendant snips, "Then you're in violation of federal law, punishable by a two-thousand-dollar fine and imprisonment." Carter smirks. The flight attendant continues, "Do I need to have the marshals meet us at the gate?" Carter promises that it won't happen again. She demands the butt, which he sheepishly surrenders. Carter continues grinning moronically. "Doctor, huh?" snorts Seatmate. The scene cuts before Seatmate can start asking Carter for free advice regarding his erectile dysfunction.
Mrs. Palmieri sleeps stretched out in chairs. Mark wakes her up and tells her that the blow to Mike's chest caused some internal bleeding around his heart. Mrs. Palmieri says that sounds serious, and Mark allows that it can be, but that at the moment there's only a small amount of bleeding, so they need to operate to drain the blood before it restricts function. "Open-heart surgery?" Mark assures her that it isn't -- that they go through the upper abdomen with a very small incision. He hands her the consent for the procedure. She wipes her nose and says, "You just need the one signature, right? I couldn't find his father if I wanted to." I'm not really sure what that non-sequitur was in aid of. If Mike'd had a strong male presence growing up, he wouldn't feel the need to endanger his life playing football? Or that he'd be better at it? Or that Mike's dad left Mrs. Palmieri in search of the real Lesley Ann Warren? Call it.
Romano comes showboating into the ER to ask what the "big emergency" is. In the ER? Oh, there aren't any. Mark says that he didn't page Romano, and Weaver comes crutching out from around the desk and says that she did. Romano kvetches at her not to page him if she leaves messages with his assistant. Weaver's like, whatever, we have a real crisis down here. Romano drawls, "And...?" Weaver pushes open a door to a curtain area completely filled with bags of garbage, and snaps, "And it's become a health hazard! If somebody calls the County, we'll be fined!" Romano leans on her: "But 'someone' isn't going to call the County, is she?" Weaver tells him that Housekeeping is refusing to clean the sheets or towels, and that Weaver needs the nurses to do...you know, actual nursing tasks. Romano buck-up-little-campers her to "troubleshoot -- it's called being a manager," but Weaver stops him cold: "You need to end this strike, Robert." He's all, you find me the half million dollars it'll take to meet their demands, and Weaver is all, I hate you little man, and Romano dismisses her by chiding Benton, in his leather jacket, about "keeping bankers' hours." Benton mutters, "I've been on since five." Romano invites Benton to walk with him Benton starts to say he has to go pick up Carter, and Romano explains that they're going to go finish the interview. Benton asks about Elizabeth, and Romano sniffs, "I let her sit in to make her feel important, but it's my decision." Romano says he doesn't question Benton's skills, but his loyalty. Benton says that his loyalty is to his patients. Romano -- stopping at the men's room door and pushing it open with his ass -- appropriately enough says that Benton has a real propensity for being a pain in said ass. Well, if that isn't the teeny little pot calling the kettle black, I don't know what is. Anyway, as Romano enters the men's room, Benton waits outside; Romano sticks his head back out and snorts, "I'm not going to jump you, you homophobe." Please. Romano wishes.
Inside, the men's room is...so disgusting. Seriously, I've used cleaner washrooms at roadside rest stops. The floor is all wet and there are wadded-up paper towels stuck to it, to say nothing of the suspicious-looking coloured puddles. Romano mutters, "Pfft. Janitors." "You should try paying them," Benton suggests, and Romano leaps on it like Alex on a Stroh's: "You see? Now, that's exactly my point. Instead of trying to understand my problems, you immediately champion the opposition." "The janitors?" Benton scoffs. Romano says that if he's to give Benton a faculty position, he needs to know that Benton will be on Romano's "team." Oh, and, as he's delivering this speech, he's peeing. Benton assures Romano that he'll be on Romano's team. Romano flushes and heads for the sink, checking, "I can expect your full commitment? No whining? No complaining? No excuses about your kid or your cat, or whatever?" "I don't have a cat," Benton dodges. Romano says that, in that case, Benton's hired, and holds out his still-wet (with water, not urine) hand for Benton to shake; Benton starts to take it, then folds his arms and murmurs, "You're going to have to dry it first." Dude, be grateful he wasn't holding out his hand for you to towel off. The sound of rushing water causes Romano to turn, and observe water gushing out of the urinal. "Ah. Well. Wasn't me," is the manager's response. Benton smirks.
Some conventionally attractive dude who used to be on a soap (General Hospital, right?) is teeing off at a driving range. Lisa, still storming, comes up behind him and shoves him, calling him a "selfish son of a bitch." This guy -- presumably Mr. Ex-Lisa -- has the stones to laugh at her, "Well, hello, Abby." Lisa asks whether it's fun for him, or more like an addiction: "Do you wake up in the morning thinking, 'How am I going to screw Abby today?'" He asks what she's talking about, and she brings him up to speed on the three months of medical school -- three months she can't make up -- he's caused her to lose, and on the fact that she's now a year behind on her residency. At first I think he has the decency not to be able to meet her eye, but then I see he's just lining up another ball. Mr. X-L somehow intuits that she's talking about her tuition, and she kicks the ball away in confirmation. Mr. X-L angrily tells her to calm down, claims that he'd planned to call her, and says that the IRS disallowed their '97 home-office deduction, but she talks over him, saying she doesn't want to hear another lie. He tells her to call the IRS, and she screams, "This was important to me! [kicks over bucket of balls] And you knew it, so you ruined it!" "Could you be a little more dramatic?" snaps Mr. X-L. She could, but why bother, when the role of Mrs. Palmieri has already been cast? Lisa reminds him that she put him through medical school. Oh. Okay, then, Dr. X-L tells her that his student loans put him through medical school, and that he's still paying off those loans, "along with a house, [her] condo, and two cars." During this speech, Lisa tells him that she meant she fed, clothed, sheltered, and generally supported him, if not precisely financially, and adds, "Don't forget the apartment for the whore." Dr. X-L's all, "Huh?" Lisa levels her gaze and continues, "I assume you're cheating on the whore with another whore." Dr. X-L admonishes her to "stop it," and she tells him to stop it: "Haven't you done enough already?" Dr. X-L tries to deliver the killer blow: "I didn't make you unhappy, depressed, and miserable; you did that all by yourself." Okay, first of all, I think Lisa may have got an assist on that from the aforementioned whores. Second, take some of the money you didn't use to pay Lisa's tuition and buy a thesaurus. Third, Lisa wore that sleeveless shirt to show off her nicely toned arms, and I'm sure she's more than capable of using them to beat your punk ass down. She says, "Screw you," and starts throwing his clubs onto the green. They both speak at once. Dr. X-L: "Right, screw me. SCREW ME. Yeah, you're the one who decided you wanted more. You're the one who decided you had to change your life, so screw me!" Lisa: "Screw you! Manipulative, cheating, spineless, spiteful, ass!" Once all the clubs have been scattered, Dr. X-L spits, "Are you done?" Our Lisa? Far from it: "You are in violation of our divorce agreement. I am hiring a lawyer, and I am getting my tuition money." As Lisa stomps off (and Sars asks, "She doesn't already have a lawyer?"), Dr. X-L calls after her to "take it all -- take the debt with it!" Under her breath, Lisa mutters, "Shut up, jag-off." Hee! "Jag-off."
Benton walks into the ambulance bay, where hundreds of bags of garbage are all piled up. He gets to the barriers separating the picketers from the hospital, greets Nat, and they exchange pleasantries. Benton starts to move one of the barriers to let himself out, but Nat stops him. Benton asks, "What are you doing?" Nat quietly asks, "Go around the other way, would you?" Benton starts to say that he's late, and Nat explains, "The news is here." Benton glances up and sees an anchor lady setting up a shot. Benton wishes Nat luck and duly heads back to the hospital to cut through to the other entrance. Chen sits on a bench outside, sniffling. He calls her name, and she says she's on break, and sniffles some more. Her legs are crossed to obscure her lap. He asks if she's all right, and she says she's fine. Just then the sirens start, and Weaver comes running out, telling Benton that a "mass cas" is coming in: "a riot at a high-school football game." Benton protests that he was "just leaving to pick up somebody" (and under the circumstances I don't know why he wouldn't beg off by explaining that somebody is Carter), but Weaver curtly says, "Not anymore, you're not." The picketers dive for cover as the ambulances pull in.
Okay, when they said "riot," they weren't kidding. Stretchers pour in bearing football players, cheerleaders, a mascot in a Viking costume, and even one unfortunate tromboner. As the action swirls around him, B.B. sits in the hall with his wife's corpse, clutching his sad little baggie of meds to his chest. Mark wheels into a trauma room with the mascot (named Mitch), and sees that Mike is still there, with Elizabeth. As Mike and Mitch shoot the shit, Mark tells Elizabeth he thought she'd be operating. She growls, "They're backed up; half the rooms are empty, but filthy because of this custodial work stoppage." Custodial -- what? Work stoppage? Is there a strike, or something? Wait, we got that. We did. Look, let me use these wads of wet toilet paper to spell out "WE GET IT" on the sodden men's room floor, and prove it. As they prepare to wheel out the Viking, Mike asks, "Who won?" "Nobody," answers Mitch. See? What they did there? When you riot at a high-school football game, nobody wins. Mark asks how soon Elizabeth might be able to get an OR, and she says the nurses are cleaning one now (and they must just love that), but there's another, more critical patient in the queue ahead of Mike, and that she'd planned to do a pericardiocentesis right where they are. "All this so that housekeeping doesn't get an extra dollar an hour," Mark growls, as if he's all friend of the working man and wasn't totally dissing the strike earlier. Much earlier. Around 1 AM when I recapped that scene. Sigh. Mike asks whether they're saying that he doesn't need an operation anymore, and Mark explains that it means he'll have to wait a little longer.
The ER staff performs triage. Mark finds Mrs. Palmieri, who's clutching her bag and whining, "It's just a game!" She asks when a nurse is going to take her up to see Mike, and Mark explains about the change of plans. As Benton accompanies another football player to trauma, he realizes, "I'm never going to get out of here," spots a med student named Ryan, and calls him over.
Mrs. Palmieri strokes Mike's leg as Mark explains, "This is the little needle to numb you for the big needle. You're a tough guy. You can take it." Mike says he can't believe all this fighting started over him, and Mark offers, "You're a popular guy!" Uh. Is Mark coming onto Mike? Dude, I know your girlfriend gave you poison ivy, but she's standing right there. Mrs. Palmieri quavers that Mike looks "so pale," and Elizabeth gently suggests that she might want to wait outside. Something starts beeping. Mark and Elizabeth exchange a look, and Elizabeth quietly says, "Haleh." She ushers Mrs. Palmieri out, just before mother and son say their "I love you"s. Aw. Mike is pale, though. He doesn't look so good. And, very rapidly, he starts to look really bad. Oops, Mark did it again. He messed with Mike's heart.
At the gate, Carter fusses with his clothes. Ryan the med student arrives to pick him up, and says that Benton sent him.
As the staff continues performing triage, Chen wanders up to B.B. and sees that he's not breathing. Long story short, he took all the drugs in the baggie.
The machines attached to Mike are still beeping. And the heart of rock and roll is still beating. Mark claims that Mike has "weird anatomy" (hey, is that a technical term, like "blue dead"?). Mike's blood pressure drops, and Mike starts having a heart attack. Elizabeth realizes that Mark transected Mike's coronary artery. Yeah, MARK. "Weird anatomy," my ass. Elizabeth condescends that it's a common complication, but Mark won't let her give him any direction (and why would he? She's only a surgeon) and finally calls for a thoracotomy tray. He got lost in the game. Oh baby, baby.
Luka stampedes into a trauma room as Chen intubates B.B. She asks who Florence is; Luka explains that Florence is Mrs. B.B.
In the room, Mike's chest is good and wide open. I'm sure that's really safe in a room full of god-only-knows-how-old trash. They do internal compressions. Haleh warns them, "We've got a crowd." Sure enough, all of Mike's teammates and well-wishers are playing looky-loo at the windows; Mark tells Haleh to close the blinds.
Ryan chauffeurs Carter to the hospital, babbling about how interesting the ER is, that there's never a dull moment, that he used to be interested in surgery, but now he may have changed his mind. Carter's all, "Leave me alone with my pain. I mean, yeah. Right."
Mike continues to die, because of Mark's incompetence. He goes into v-fib. Mrs. Palmieri watches through the glass and Mark basically tells Haleh to get rid of her. They shock him internally. Elizabeth calls, "Clear..."
...and we cut to B.B., looking all grey. He's asystole. Chen suggests that they try "overdrive pacing," but Luka says that B.B.'s been down too long, and calls the time of death. He tells Chen to take B.B. downstairs and make sure he's put to his wife. Dr. Dave bursts in to ask whether they're done with the room since he's got a stab wound to the thigh. When I disappointedly note that his leg isn't bleeding at all, I figure he means he has a patient with a stab wound to the thigh. Oh, well.
Mark's still shocking Mike. It doesn't sound good. Elizabeth suggests, "Someone ought to prep the mother." Mark won't give up. Elizabeth offers to talk to Mrs. Palmieri, but Mark says that he should do it. Mark calls Chen in from the room to do compressions. Elizabeth tries the paddles again.
Mark shoves his way through the crush in the hall. A cheerleader stops Mark to comment, "Brrr! It's cold in here! I said there must be incompetence in the atmosphere!" ["Mark Greene sure ain't number one!" -- Sars] She follows him to chairs and totally eavesdrops on him as Mark makes his way to Mrs. Palmieri and gently tells her, "We've -- we've had some complications....The needle poked the artery that supplies the blood and oxygen to Mike's heart, which caused him to have a heart attack." Right, Mark. The needle poked the artery. It was moving as if of its own volition, not at all propelled by, oh, say, you. People don't kill people -- needles kill people. Mark continues: "We opened up his chest to repair the artery, but his heart has been deprived of oxygen for too long, and it wasn't beating. We're giving him intravenous drugs and shocking his heart. There's been no response." Mrs. Palmieri snarls, "What does that mean? What does that mean?" Mark admits, "We might not get him back. He could die." Mrs. Palmieri says that Mark told her the procedure was simple and that Mike would "sail through" it. Mark lamely offers, "This is an exceedingly rare complication." Mrs. Palmieri doesn't care: "You fix my son!" Mark hops to it.
The kids overhear Mrs. Palmieri's yelling and try to get answers from Mark as he wends his way back to Mike's trauma room, where Mike is still in v-fib. Haleh asks how long they're going to go, and Mark says, "Until he has irreparable brain damage. I mean, until I say 'stop.'" Okay, he didn't say the part about brain damage. Mark sends Chen for epi.
When Chen pushes her way into the hall, the eavesdropping cheerleader (which is incidentally one of my favourite of Puccini's operas) tells a football player, "The doctor told Mike's mom he was going to die, purple monkey dishwasher." The football player goes all Red Ross, focuses on Fifty-Five (who's all doped up and reclining in the hall), jumps on him and pulls him off the bed. My god! There is a bone sticking out of his leg, 'Roid Rage! Anyway, a full-on riot breaks out. And glass breaks. I hope you were sitting down when you read that last part. Dr. Dave gets punched in the face and beaned by a flying helmet. Weaver climbs up on the desk and beats on a couple of football players with her cane. Chen makes it through the fight with the epi just in time for...yes...another window to break. They get a rhythm. Mark beams, but he's not. That. Innocent.
Ryan drops Carter off at the ambulance bay just as a fleet of cop cars squeals in. He asks Carter whether he's coming in, but Carter says he's going to get in his car and go home. They shake. Carter listens to the sirens, watch as more cop cars and ambulances pull in, and then goes all Felicity, walking off in slow-mo.
Pooh: Scenes?
Wing Chun: They never show scenes from week on CTV.
CTV: Stay tuned to CTV for scenes from the ER.
Djb: I'm blind, and even I could see that coming.
Wing Chun: Dang it!
week: Chen tries not to cry. Carter goes to AA and runs into Lisa. Benton and Carter greet each other awkwardly. Weaver and Mark allow Carter back on a limited basis. Carter thanks them. Why is he dressed up like a Mormon? Is that the thirteenth step no one talks about?