Props to Kim, whose visit this past weekend was part of the reason this recap is going up when it is (the other part being the usual laziness), and to Sars and Djb, who'll be making another of my recaps late in just a couple of short weeks.
Previously on ER: the Sidelined Surfer made Elizabeth uncomfortable; Carter confessed to Weaver about stealing a patient's Vicodin and throwing the pills up before they had any effect; Mark told Luka he'd be back to work soon, and Wing Chun groaned in contempt; Elizabeth freaked out in the middle of an operation; and Weaver brokered peace between herself and Legaspi.
Shower. Even before we see her, I know this scene is going to feature Kerry "d. lang" Weaver, and I'm right: there she is, after a slow pan, standing under the shower stream. For some reason, the camera stops just at the small of her back, and the title ("Surrender") is placed beside her instead of in the centre of the screen, as it usually is. Anyway. Pan back up and over to Weaver's face; she's thoughtfully and slowly touching her fingers to her lips. After a moment she smiles to herself. We hear the bathroom door open, and Weaver starts as if caught doing something illicit. We hear the voice of Kim "Mitchell" Legaspi as she tells Weaver she's going to put a clean towel in the sink for her. Weaver grins and calls, "Okay, thank you!" Yay! Weaver got some! Mitchell asks what time Weaver's shift starts; Weaver says she's on at nine, and Mitchell lets out a silvery laugh and tells her she should hurry, before offering coffee, which Weaver accepts. Mitchell walks out, and Weaver sticks her head under the water. For no reason, we get a slightly too long shot of her face, close-up and centred in the middle of the screen, as she brushes the water off her face. Are we supposed to think that the sound of Mitchell's voice brought Weaver back to herself, and that she realizes what she's done and is trying to cleanse herself of it? Or were they just slightly under their hour this week? Whatever.
Mitchell prepares a bagel in her kitchen as Weaver crutches in. I see that Mitchell and I have the same curved Ikea corner shelf, though Mitchell's is, for some reason, painted gold. But, look -- just because she has the same shelf I do doesn't mean I'm gay, okay? Anyway, Mitchell glances up and tells Weaver that Mitchell's blouse looks good on Weaver. She fails to add that it would look even better on her bedroom floor. Weaver awkwardly asks whether it isn't too long, and Mitchell assures her that it's not. She fails to add that there's no such thing as "too long," if you know what I mean, and I think you do. Awkward pause as Mitchell pours a cup of coffee and then comments that it's a good thing she has a forty-gallon water heater. Weaver's all, "Huh?" and Mitchell observes that Weaver takes long showers. ["Did anyone else have a flashback to Laura Innes as Sheryl Fleck on My So-Called Life, when she caught Graham's brother phoning up his ex and said, 'It's my fault. I take really short showers'? Okay, going to get a life now." -- Sars] Weaver apologizes breathlessly, and Mitchell tells her it's okay -- that she does, too, and that she sometimes has to "stand under there for twenty minutes, just to wake up. When it's cold. Especially in winter." She totally fails to add that they should save time, time, by showering together. They gaze at each other fondly for a second, and then Weaver shakes it off and, in a strangled voice, asks whether it's cold outside, crutching over to her coat. "Low twenties do you want a bagel?" Mitchell blurts, too fast. Weaver, not meeting Mitchell's eye as she puts on her coat, says she'll get something at work. Weaver seems to be struggling a bit with her cane, and Mitchell hurries over, with Weaver's coffee in an insulated mug, asking if Weaver's okay. Weaver says she's fine, and Mitchell clarifies, "No, I meant, about us. First time can be a little --" Weaver replies, "No, it's just...just different." "That's true," says Mitchell seriously, and then smiles. Weaver adds, "But good." "Really?" asks Mitchell, sounding relieved. Weaver says, "Yeah." Mitchell gives Weaver The Look, and says she'll see her at work. "Yeah," Weaver replies. Mitchell kind of holds out her hand, awkwardly, waiting to put it somewhere on Weaver when they kiss, I guess, and they sort of move toward each other like they're going to kiss, but Weaver -- though she closes her eyes -- moves her face away at the last second. Mitchell ends up with her right hand on Weaver's cheek, and her forehead kind of pressed against Weaver's. Anyway, they don't connect, is what I'm saying. Weaver makes to leave, and then comes back to murmur, "Um, I'm sorry, but I know this is understood, but I just...this is just going to be between us, right?" Mitchell raises her eyebrows and then replies, "Of course." Weaver looks somewhat regretful, but like she can't think what else to say. She makes to go, and Mitchell hurries after to get the door for her. On the porch, as the door swings closed behind her, Weaver catches her breath, looking terrified.
At County, Peter "Blaxploitation" Benton is dressed for surgery and giving instructions to a nurse, who's trailing him. Robert "Rocket" Romano rolls up, calling out that he gave the procedure in question to a "Henderson." He calls Benton to follow him for a "little chore." Benton protests that he's "a little busy," but Romano insists that he follow, and then leads the witness, asking how the "per-diem" situation is working out. Benton diffidently replies that it "could be better." Romano asks whether a $10,000-a-year raise and a limited benefit package would help. Benton grunts, "What?" Romano immediately offers $20,000, but insists that his final offer, and adds that Benton will have to take on some administrative duties, as well. I assume Romano is in the process of forcing Elizabeth out of her job. Benton wisely intuits that there has to be some catch, and asks what's in it for Romano if Benton does accept the position. Romano pauses for a beat, and then makes to take his ball and go home, stomping off and pouting at Benton to "go back to surgery." Benton drawls that he's "just asking." Romano screeches, "Do you want the bump, or don't you?" Benton considers for a second, and says that he does. Romano asks, "So, we have a deal?" Benton agrees that they do, and they shake on it. The camera focuses on their hands; as Benton tries to let go the handshake, Romano hangs on and drags Benton along the hall and into...
...the men's room, where they commence making out. Just kidding. Really, they go into a meeting room crammed with reporters. As soon as Benton and Romano appear, the flashes start going off, and Benton looks justifiably confused. Romano makes for the podium and apologizes to the room at large for the delay; the reporters milling about take their seats. Romano declares, "Okay, now, as you are all aware, we at the County level are very concerned about the declining numbers of minority medical-school students and faculty positions -- not only here in Chicago, but nationwide. The medical school is committed to addressing this issue, and as part of that commitment, I am appointing a Director of Diversity for the medical centre: Dr. Peter Benton." Finally realizing that this is no average dog-and-pony show -- and realizing exactly what he's committed to do -- Benton rapidly shakes his head at Romano, who ignores him and says, "Dr. Benton's bio and résumé can be found in your handout materials. So! He's all yours." Romano moves away from the podium; Benton remains rooted in place. A female reporter asks Benton whether his appointment is the direct result of a report in the Tribune about the declining numbers of African-Americans being admitted to medical school. Benton half-smiles, and reluctantly steps over to the podium, leaning over in order to reach the microphones that had been set at Romano's height; he stammers out an answer that basically adds up to "maybe." Another reporter asks how Benton can assure minority representation in a post-affirmative action era. Benton glares at Romano, who smirks. Credits.
Long, "arty" shot of a polished, sombre hallway. In the distance, John "Pillsbury Doughboy" Carter is asking a woman in a lab coat (who's presumably a health-care worker of some kind), "Is he drinking?" "Just water," the woman replies. "He had a little rice three days ago." He asks about an IV, and the woman reminds him that she can't start an IV without a court order. Stopping in a doorway, Carter asks the woman to call a Dr. Sampson. She quietly informs him that Dr. Sampson is no longer employed there, adding, "Dr. Miller treats your cousin now." Carter tells her to call Dr. Miller, then, and the woman says it probably isn't necessary to do so now that Carter is here. "Why?" Carter asks. "I think he's just lonely," she replies. Carter sighs heavily, and asks her to bring him a "protein shake, or something." She takes off. Carter crosses the threshold. And I have to say, it's about goddamn time they reunited Carter and Chase -- for it is Chase who's on an apparent hunger strike, sitting in a darkened room, pouting. Carter doffs his coat and sits down in a wheelchair to Chase. Carter apologizes for not having "been around here much," but claims he's been busy. "For a year?" Chase mumbles, still looking down. "You're right," Carter allows, "you're right, that's not an excuse. Hey, your speech sounds good! You been, uh, gettin' around much?" "No," Chase grunts. The woman reappears with a can of Ensure and Carter shakes it up, chiding Chase that he has to eat something. Chase lets out a strangled "nope." Carter asks him what's wrong and, popping the top on the can, tries to lift it to Chase's lips; Chase angrily bats the can away, growling, "No!" "Maybe later," Carter murmurs. "No way," replies Chase, scowling.
At County, Abby "Lisa" Lockhart and Mark "Scarhead" Greene are treating a couple of grumpy old men, played by Newhart's Tom Poston and Happy Days's Tom Bosley. They're both tic-ing it up hard-core with the curmudgeon routine, and I guess now that Walter Matthau is dead, it's a grouch-off among all the other actors around his age to see who gets to be Jack Lemmon's new sidekick. Anyway, Mark -- wearing a little cap (and considering he's returning to work so soon, with barely any time to recover, concealing the enormous Frankenstein's monster-esque gashes on his scalp from the patients is a wise move) -- gently presses his thumbs against Poston's cheeks and asks if it hurts; Poston howls, and Bosley, sitting on the bed, snorts, "Wuss." "You want another beatin'? Keep talking," yells Poston, and Bosley replies, "I'm sittin' right here," I guess by way of invitation. Lisa tells Mark that Bosley suffered a lip laceration and a possible broken jaw. Mark asks whether they aren't too old to be fighting, and Poston plummily replies, "Never too old to defend a lady's honour." Bosley snorts again; Mark sets to examining him as Poston quotes, "'Grace is in all her steps, beauty in her eyes; in every gesture, dignity and love.'" Bosley announces that Poston "stole that from a book," and Poston snaps, "At least I know how to read." "Yeah -- with your lips moving," Bosley shoots back. "'Lip'? I'll give you --" Poston starts, but you can tell his heart's not in it and he trails off. Mark gives Lisa some orders and takes off.
At the desk, Weaver asks Mark how things are going. Mark tells her about a patient whose snow blower blew a rock into his larynx (dude!), and she clarifies that she meant to ask how things were going on his first day back. "So far so good," he says, and tells her to check him again at the end of his four hours. She pointedly asks whether he's getting backed up, and he tells her he has three patients waiting for surgical consults. Weaver looks at the board and asks who's on the service, and Mark replies, "Peter, but she's stuck in a press conference." Weaver asks, "What?" Mark repeats, "Peter. She's been in for an hour." Weaver asks, "Who's 'she'?" "What?" Mark asks. Second base! Weaver sort of shakes her head and asks, "Wait -- I mean, who's giving a press conference?" Mark says he doesn't know what it's for, but that Benton is in it. Mark walks off, and Weaver watches him go, looking quizzical.
From the other side of the floor, Luka "The Croatian Way of Death" Kovac calls Weaver over and asks her to call Radiology; they sent his patient back without films and won't "chase them down." Weaver crutches over -- carrying Mitchell's insulated mug like a security blanket -- and asks whether there's any bone exposed. Well, of course there's bone exposed -- it's season seven, isn't it? This season's been all about people breaking bones so badly that the ragged stumps end up poking out of their flesh. (Hey, if I have to hear about it, so do you.) Luka confirms, rather unnecessarily, that there is bone exposed, and that he needs the x-ray in order to fix it. Weaver asks, "How'd it happen?" and Luka replies, "I don't know, they just lost it." Weaver explains that she's asking how the patient's finger was injured, and Luka says the patient won't say. Weaver flicks through the chart, and then asks the patient, in Spanish, whether he speaks English. Luka tells Weaver that "Chuny already tried." Weaver asks Finger a question in Spanish, which I don't speak; Finger's answer includes the word "accident." Luka says that the injury looks as if a saw was involved. Weaver asks another question, and Finger says something including the word "work." Weaver asks where he works (I'm sorry, but I'm getting down as much as I can based on my knowledge of French). Finger looks terrified; Weaver repeats, "Where?" and Finger says nothing. "Told you," smugs Luka, irrigating the wound. Weaver asks whether someone brought Finger in, and Luka says he thinks Finger took a cab. Weaver asks which cab company, and after the slightest of beats, Luka shrugs and shakes his head. Weaver asks whether anyone saw Finger arrive, and Luka says that Malik was outside when he came in, and asks her why she wants to know. Weaver quietly says that they should put a call in to OSHA, the Occupational Safety and Health Administration. Luka leaps, up, yelping, "OSHA?!" Weaver exposits, "They monitor workplace safety requirements. He's probably illegal and doesn't say anything because he doesn't want to lose his job." "That's his choice, isn't it?" Luka replies. "Until someone gets seriously hurt," says Weaver, and purposefully crutches off, saying that she'll make the call. "I just need you to call Radiology!" Luka impotently calls after her.
In another part of the hospital, the press conference is evidently over, and Romano is reminding Benton that he gave Benton a promotion, so Benton shouldn't be "crying about" it. Benton prisses that Romano should have told him what the job was. Yeah, shoulda coulda woulda. You know it's Romano. You know he can't be trusted. You should have known to get something fairly detailed in writing before you jumped off a cliff, blind. It's not like he's never screwed you over before. Romano points out that he never lied in his description of the job -- he just didn't include all the salient information. Benton pouts, "I don't like being used," and Romano drones, "Everyone is used, Peter. It's what makes the world go 'round." Benton obviouses that he only got the job because he's black, and Romano sarcastically tells him not to discount his finely honed public-relations skills. "I don't want it," Benton snaps. "Sure you do," Romano replies. Benton insists that he doesn't, and Romano tells him he should have thought of that before his press conference. Heh. Finally he cracks and blurts, "Look, surprise -- yes, I need a minority to be the Director of Diversity, but it's not going to require any real work, it's going to get you that much closer to a full-time faculty position, so please get over yourself!" Benton stops and drawls, "You know what? You can find somebody else to be your little poster boy." Romano sputters for a second and then admits, "The truth is, I don't have anyone else -- which is a perfect example of why the diversity issue needs your immediate attention." Benton scoffs, "You don't even believe that." "Actually, I do," Romano retorts, "but, look -- it doesn't really matter, does it? It's on your shoulders now." He takes off, leaving Benton to stew in his own diverse juices.
Romano storms into Elizabeth "Choke, Bloat" Corday's office and demands, "Did I misread the schedule?" Elizabeth, partially concealed behind several stacks of paperwork, distractedly asks, "What schedule?" Romano exposits that she cancelled six elective procedures in the past week. Elizabeth corrects him, saying that they were rescheduled, not cancelled. "Which means 'cancelled,'" he snaps. Elizabeth defensively says that one had a fever, and another had a family emergency. Romano points out that all six were complicated procedures. Elizabeth huffs that if that's the case, it's a "simple coincidence." She adds that she's been slammed by a JACHO (Joint Commission on Accreditation of Healthcare Organizations -- also abbreviated to JCAHO, it seems) review. Heh. That used to come up last year when Omar G was recapping City of Angels, only we both thought it was spelled "Jayko" and didn't know what it was. Thank you, closed captions! Anyway, there's a JACHO review coming up, and Elizabeth claims that nothing is up to code. Romano says he has every confidence that she'll get things up to code in time, but adds that he needs an Associate Chief of Surgery who actually performs surgery from time to time. This seems to catch Elizabeth off-guard, and she even more defensively stammers, "I do! I will -- gladly -- once I get out from under all of this." Romano tells her that she'll have to do it today, and that she's covering the ER. She squeals after him that JACHO is coming on Monday, and he reminds her that she only has to go down if the ER pages her. Elizabeth covers her face with her hands.
Speaking of the ER, let's go back down there and watch as Lisa examines Poston's ear. He asks if she's married, and she says she isn't. "Cute girl like yourself?" he flirts, and she tells him that he didn't crack his skull. He can't hear her because of the thing in his ear, and she repeats the good news. "He couldn't crack a smile," Poston derisively says of Bosley, and adds that he's a big proponent of marriage: "'Course, you gotta be married to the right person." Lisa twinkles, "Is that a proposal?" Poston coos that they'll have to get to know each other first. Lisa chuckles, and tells him that they still have to wait for an x-ray of his hand, but that he doesn't seem to have sustained any other injuries; she asks him if anything else hurts. "Nothing I want to talk about it mixed company," Poston stiffly replies. Lisa reminds him that she's a nurse, and he declares, "Just the same, if I'm going to talk to you about my private parts, I'd prefer to do it in a social setting." Lisa frankly asks him if it hurts when he pees. "Yeah, how'd you know?" he marvels. She asks whether he has an enlarged prostate, and he philosophically replies, "It's large enough." She tells him that it could be prostatitis, and that she'll need a urine sample. She leans on the railing of his bed and holds out the sample cup, and he cracks that she'll have to hold it a little lower. She chuckles again, and tells him that she'll show him to the bathroom. Poston volunteers, "Actually, it feels more like something you pick up." "'Pick up'?" Lisa asks, and he explains that he means it burns, and that he had it once before, when he was stationed in Korea. "From...sex?" Lisa asks. "Well, I didn't get it from dancing," Poston jokes. At this moment, Haleh appears at the door and calls Lisa away to attend to a victim of a gunshot wound to the head. Lisa takes off, telling Poston to pee in the cup. "From here?" he quavers. She rolls her eyes and goes.
Pam the Paramedic gives Mark the bullet (as it were) on the gunshot victim. Mark calls for labs and gets Gunshot onto the bed. Suddenly Elizabeth is there, too, asking if there was a suicide note. Pam says Gunshot's "friend claimed they were playing Russian Roulette." Everyone seems appropriately disgusted. Pam adds that Gunshot's friend is in the rig behind hers, since the bullet went through Gunshot and grazed his friend's cheek. Mark says that Gunshot has no response to painful stimuli, and Elizabeth says she smells alcohol, and that Gunshot could just be drunk. Elizabeth calls for them to "pump in O-neg." Mark asks what she's doing, and she explains that the massive blood loss from Gunshot's scalp could be the cause of his low blood pressure. "Or he could have blown out his brain stem," Mark suggests. Elizabeth stops dead at this, the possibility apparently not having even crossed her mind. She glances at Gunshot as if she'd forgotten where she is. Lisa announces the patient's crit, and Mark persists, "Doesn't sound like blood loss." The camera stays on Elizabeth as she looks completely at a loss as to what to do. Haleh asks whether she still wants the O-neg. Mouth hanging open, Elizabeth looks to Mark, who asks if she wants to try transfusing Gunshot. Elizabeth pounces on this and tells them to hang two units. Lisa looks watchful; Haleh seems to have stopped just short of rolling her eyes as she duly hangs a bag on a pole. "What?!" Elizabeth demands -- again, defensively. "Nothing," Haleh sniffs, but you know she's thinking, "Girl, please." Pam hands Mark a sheet of paper; Mark asks her, "Is this the other guy?" and Pam confirms that it the sheet does, indeed, pertain to Gunshot's friend. I'll call him Cheek.
Mark shoves his way into the room, where Weaver is treating Cheek. Cheek seems to be fine; he's awake and isn't even that bloody. Mark confronts him about the confessed game of Russian Roulette. "What?!" Weaver demands. Second base! Mark repeats the charge and Cheek claims, "It was his idea." Mark snaps, "How old are you?" "Why?" Cheek brats. Mark guesses that Cheek is twenty, and Cheek admits to being nineteen. Weaver tells Mark that she's on it, but Mark is having none of it: "He's fifteen years old! He's drunk! I could smell the alcohol across the room!" Cheek snaps, "He came over that way!" "You didn't give her anything to drink?" Mark asks. Weaver turns to stare at Mark. "Who?" Cheek asks. First base! "Your friend!" Mark says. Cheek says that Gunshot brought a case of beer, along with his dad's gun. "And you made him hold the gun up to his head," Mark squeaks. "I didn't make him do anything! Hell, I went first," says Cheek. "It was his idea but you went first," Mark snorts. Cheek replies, "Yeah! Better odds!" Mark actually advances on Cheek, bellowing, "'Better odds'?!" Cheek nonchalantly points out, "That's the point of the game." Mark sputters, "It's not a game! She blew his brains out!" "Who's 'she'?" Cheek calmly asks. Mark doesn't understand the question, and Cheek repeats, "You said 'she.'" Mark impatiently yells, "He. He's dead!" And, actually...is he dead? Gunshot seemed to be alive enough to have medical personnel working on him when Mark abandoned his trauma room. Cheek sniffs that Gunshot "loaded the bullet. He knew what could happen." Mark impotently asks, "Where are the police, huh? Why aren't they arresting this idiot?" He throws the piece of paper onto Cheek's bed. "I didn't kill him," Cheek says -- not seeming at all concerned at the news that Gunshot is dead. "The hell you didn't," Mark scoffs, and flounces off. I gather that all that was by way of showing us that, post-surgery, Mark is uncharacteristically belligerent, as well as experiencing aphasia (transposing his pronouns), but if you ask me, Mark's always been an insufferably sanctimonious pill.
After the trauma, Mark walks out of the bathroom and runs into Elizabeth. He cheerfully asks her if she called the time of death on Gunshot, and she says she did, "after six units of blood and forty-five minutes of CPR." She exhaustedly adds, "I should never have started." Mark condescendingly says, "You wanted to make sure." "Rubbish. You would have called it from the beginning," she tells him. Mark agrees that he would have: "But I'm lazy." Elizabeth curtly says, "Mark, please," and sets her jaw. Okay, Elizabeth? Hates Mark. Hates him. It's so clear. She can't stand being around him. His very presence annoys her. Now that he's made it through his tumour she wishes she'd left him in New York -- preferably in the East River. She can't even stand to look at him. And when he tries to reassure her by saying, "You wanted to give it a chance. It's no big failure," it only has the effect of sending her back upstairs and away from him and his platitudes. She makes a token effort to care by distractedly asking whether he's "taking it easy," to which he replies, "Yes, Mom."
Elizabeth rounds the corner by the elevators and comes upon Mitchell and Weaver conversing familiarly. We join the conversation just as Mitchell is telling Weaver that her clothes came back from the dry cleaner smelling of sour milk; she holds up her wrist, and Weaver duly sniffs at her cuff. Both giggle. As soon as Weaver notices Elizabeth, she lets go the shirt and tightly says, "It's fine." Mitchell turns around to see Elizabeth, and then turns back to Weaver, a big, open smile on her face. Weaver hoarsely says, "So anyway, he's not psychotic." Mitchell, slightly hurt by Weaver's repudiation of her, looks down and says, "No. Sociopathic, maybe, but I can't hold him." I guess they're talking about Cheek. Mitchell suggests that they leave it up to the police. They actually exchange a kind of secret smile before Mitchell heads off. Weaver steps over to Elizabeth, who's waiting for the elevator, and asks her how Mark's doing. "Very well," Elizabeth says, trying for a smile. But she keeps her hands in her lab coat pockets the whole time, which makes her look a bit like she has something to hide. Weaver leads Elizabeth, asking, "There's no change in personality, or...." Elizabeth shrugs that he's a little tired, "Why?" Weaver gently asks, "Have you noticed that he's been mixing his pronouns?" The elevator dings, and Elizabeth steps into it, indicating through her body language that this isn't a subject she wants to explore. "'Mixing'? How?" Elizabeth asks. Weaver explains, "Well, like saying 'she' when he means 'he.'" Elizabeth considers for a split second and says, "It's nothing that I've noticed, because I try not to speak with him unless I absolutely have to." (Except, really, she stopped after "noticed.") Elizabeth asks Weaver whether Mark had mentioned it to Weaver, and Weaver says she doesn't think Mark is aware of it himself. Elizabeth suggests, "Well, maybe you misheard." Weaver agrees that could be so, but really she's thinking, "Yeah, like I'm wrong."
Weaver heads back toward the desk, and Carter comes up behind her and tells her he's starting his shift. Weaver clips, "'Kay." Carter reminds her that she wanted to see him before he started his shift, and after a moment she remembers, "Right. Well, uh, I've been thinking about it, and the fact that you told me -- that you claimed responsibility -- I think [it's] a positive sign. Therefore, I feel that I can't summarily dismiss you...." "...but?" Carter prompts her. Weaver asks, "What chip are you up to?" Carter doesn't know what she means, and she explains that she's referring to his AA chip, measuring the length of his sobriety. Carter thinks and tells her he's at two hundred and forty days' sobriety. She whispers at him to give it to her. He tells her it's at home, and glances around guiltily. She tells him that's all right, but that he's starting over from day one: "Another ninety days, another ninety meetings, and I need documentation. And you'll go back to not administering or distributing any schedule-two narcotics or benzos until further notice. But that's it, Carter. Even the smallest infraction and you no longer work here. Is that clear? Understood?" He stares at her intently and agrees, thanking her for the opportunity, and then heads off. She calls after him, "Don't make me regret it!" He waves, I guess to let her know he won't.
Bosley examines his reflection in the bottom of a steel bedpan. Lisa bustles in and asks him how he's doing. He tells her he'd be doing much better with a sponge bath. "You want a bath?" she repeats, innocently. "Yes, please," he coos. Lisa leans her head out the doorway and calls Malik in; Bosley quickly changes his tune. "Never mind," Lisa tells Malik. "Whatever," Malik whatevers, and leaves. Bosley protectively holds the metal bedpan over his crotch, and tells Lisa that she's "a real firecracker." "That's me -- Nurse Firecracker," Lisa replies. He asks her if she's married, and she tartly replies that it's none of his business. "My second wife was a spinster," Bosley announces. "Married her when she was thirty-two." Lisa supposes that the former Mrs. Bosley was "just waiting for the right guy." Bosley confirms this assessment, and adds that they were married another thirty-two years "before she passed." Lisa examines him silently, and Bosley adds, "But don't you worry, because feisty gals like you always take a little longer!" Lisa replies that she wasn't the one who was brought to the hospital for fighting. Bosley says that Poston started it: "He was flirting with my Victoria!" Victoria, it seems, is his "lady friend"; Lisa asks if he and Victoria are "intimate." Bosley shirtily replies, "I still get up a full head of steam, if that's what you're driving at." Oh, man. Did I need to hear about Mr. Cunningham's "full head of steam"? No, I did not. Snapping on her gloves, Lisa asks whether it burns when he pees. Bosley is stunned! Thankfully, they cut away before his action is the topic of further discussion.
And, speaking of action, Weaver is examining a low-rent Brad Rowe; he's gowned, has a little plastic tub over his bits, and is saying, "It was cool at first, but then my girlfriend went to work and it just stayed like that." It's not clear whether he means that his girlfriend "went to work" to her job, or "went to work" on...you know. Weaver asks whether the patient, Gary, had taken any drugs lately, and Gary confesses to having taken a "little coke." "That'll do it," Weaver says blankly, and asks whether he's tried masturbating. Gary is shocked -- shocked! -- at the suggestion: "I'm a Christian!" Oh, the coke-sniffing sect of Christianity. A Methodist, are you? Weaver tells him that helps sometimes, and that she'll have to drain it with a needle instead. Predictably, Gary asks where the men's room is, and hops off the bed, plastic tub in place.
Weaver heads to the desk, just in time to overhear Haleh asking, "How [do] you know she's gay?" "Dr." Dave Malucci sniffs, "It's obvious!" As Weaver continues eavesdropping, Luka asks, "Are the fibroids actively bleeding?" Malucci says they are, and asks rhetorically, "Why risk multiple transfusions if she's not going to use it, anyway?" "Use what?" Luka asks. "Her uterus," Dr. Dave replies. Luka, Haleh, and North America all scoff at Dr. Dave's assessment of the patient's situation -- and in case any of you agree with Dr. Dave, I would like to explain that many lesbians use their uteri even if they never put penises in them, besides which a hysterectomy is not exactly a pleasant procedure, besides which a patient's sexual orientation shouldn't have any effect on how his or her ailment is treated. ["And a hysterectomy can affect sexual functioning and sensation as well. Nice attitude, Dr. Dave." -- Sars] Weaver clearly wants to listen to their conversation some more, so even though Frank (ew, Frank) tries to distract her with some charts on something or other (okay, fine, they're med-school applications for Benton), I'll just continue concentrating on the discussion about the lesbian. Dr. Dave says he can tell his patient's a lesbian, even though she apparently hasn't told him she is; he exhorts the others, "Come on! You can tell! Check 'er out!" OB wants to take a course of treatment that Dr. Dave says "doesn't ensure they won't come back. A hysterectomy is the safest way to go, man." Frank finally notices that Weaver's been ignoring him, and prompts her, "Dr. Weaver?" Weaver tells him to put the papers he's holding in the lounge, and then tells Dr. Dave to be careful, since she doesn't want him to say anything that could open the hospital up for a lawsuit. Dr. Dave smirks, "Heeeeey. I'm the King of Couth, Chief!"
As the camera stays on Weaver, Frank comments, "Great, storm's back. It's snowing again!" Luka calls out, "Hey, is this my hand x-ray?" Frank tells him that if it has Luka's name on it, it's his. He then tells Weaver, "Orbie Coronado from OSHA called back. He said thanks for the address; someone from the INS may be calling." Frank lumbers off, and Weaver -- roused from her reverie -- protests, "Wait, I didn't want him to call the INS!" Luka overhears and demands, "Is that my patient?" Frank says that "they" (and it's not clear whether he means OSHA or the INS) have been having problems with furniture sweatshops in that area. Weaver tells Frank to call this OSHA dude back and tell him Weaver needs to know what's going to happen. "That's great, Kerry," Luka reproaches her. Weaver defensively whines, "Hey! We have a responsibility to report unsafe working conditions!" Luka says, "You don't know that [the workplace was unsafe]. He wouldn't even say how he cut [his hand]." "He was scared!" Weaver shoots back. "Yeah, scared of getting deported," says Luka. "Nobody's getting deported," Weaver insists. Luka stomps off. Frank decides this is the moment to enter the discussion: "Why the hell not? If he's illegal, he's illegal -- I mean, who's paying for this guy?" "Shut up, Frank," Weaver snaps, saving me the trouble.
Carter is examining an x-ray in the hall when Lisa rolls by and says, "Hi." Carter tells her he heard she got stuck with "a couple of grumpy old men." Wah wah. Lisa says, "Horny old men is more like it; they both have chlamydia." Carter asks how old they are, and Lisa says they're in their late seventies, and that the disease seems to be going around their nursing home. Carter jokes, "It's nice to know there's more than shuffleboard in our futures." Lisa ignores the joke and asks whether he wants a "Mr. Baker -- twenty-year-old sickler in crisis." I'm going to guess that refers to sickle-cell anemia. Carter says he had better not. She asks why, and he says it's because he's once again prohibited from "pushing narcotics." Lisa seems surprised that he told Weaver about the now legendary Vicodin slip -- seriously, doesn't it seem like it happened four years ago given how much they've talked about it? -- and Carter confirms that he did, and that Weaver let him stay. "Good for you!" Lisa congratulates him. "Yeah," Carter deadpans, and Lisa says she really means it. He thanks her for the push, and they part ways.
Mark is giving test results to a very large man who I think is Jacques Renault from Twin Peaks; it's hard to tell because he's got a beard and hardly any lines. Anyway, Jacques is accompanied by his wife, who says, "I just talked to his cardiologist; he said he should have a treadmill test, and maybe an angiogram." Mark says, "He probably meant as an outpatient." Mrs. Renault snips, "He didn't say that," and Mark impatiently insists, "That's what he meant." To Jacques, Mark says, "Keep taking your medications as directed, and come back if there are any problems." "That's it?!" Mrs. Renault squeaks. "Make sure you see your cardiologist when you get back home," Mark adds. "You're not going to admit him to the hospital?" yelps Mrs. Renault. "Nope," chirps Mark, not meeting her eye. Jacques murmurs, "Georgia, honey, it's all right." Mrs. Renault yells, "I want him checked in!" "This isn't a hotel," Mark snits. To Jacques, Mrs. Renault says, "I told you we shouldn't have gone to a County hospital." Jacques tries to mollify her, but she yells at Mark, as he goes for the door, "Is there another doctor? I want a second opinion." Mark slowly turns back and snaps, "Okay! Here's your second opinion: your husband's overweight. He suffers from stable angina. He needs to stop drinking and smoking. He needs to lay off the pizza, burgers, and fries, and get some exercise. Otherwise, all the second opinions in the world are not going to keep him from dropping dead in the two years." Mark smugs off. Jacques looks hurt. Not shown: Mrs. Renault taking out her address book and calling a lawyer.
Carter strides down the hall calling out orders, including telling Haleh to notify respiratory. Mark comes up behind him and asks what's going on; Carter tells him the paramedics are bringing in multiple victims of a basement fire -- people suffering from smoke inhalation, people crushed by falling debris, etc. -- and that there are too many victims to count.
Outside in the ambulance bay, personnel get the bullets on several patients; Doris tells Mark that there was "some kind of raid; a bunch of workers got trapped." People cry and scream; Mark directs traffic inside until Weaver says he's supposed to be off, and taking it easy. Mark replies that he can't afford to take it easy. She tells him to do triage. Morales is carrying a little girl who looks to be about four; he tells Lisa he found the girl alone. Lisa examines the girl and asks whether she's burned; all she has is a superficial laceration on her leg. In Spanish, she tells the paramedic that she wants her mother. Luka attends to a man suffering from smoke inhalation. Weaver helps out an INS officer whose pelvis was crushed. He's still conscious, and asks, "Did they get out?...We only got half of them out. They had the windows to the place barred shut." "What place?" Weaver asks. The agent explains, "We got a tip on an illegal sweatshop. We went to case it and it just started burning." Realization washes over Weaver's face, along with -- of course -- guilt. A cop car pulls up, and she stands still for a moment, stricken. Then Cindy Crawford starts pontificating about yogurt.
Let me take this opportunity to tell a little story about my early employment. The summer between grade twelve and my first year of university, I worked as a page (a shelver, basically) at the public library. It was a decent job but because it was unionized, the longest shift I ever got was about five hours long, and usually I'd have a three-hour shift four times a week. The point is, it wasn't enough hours for me to make much money, so I got a second job that I only had to work in the mornings. My job was to go through the phone book and call businesses to find out whether they had any need of a collection agency. The shift was four and a half hours long, because by law, if you work a shift of five or more hours, your employer is obliged to give you a fifteen-minute break. We worked in the basement of the collection agency, five women -- women only, mind -- per shift. We all had to introduce ourselves on the phone as "Mrs. Sanders" (I was seventeen at the time, so I'm not sure how well I pulled that off) so that if anyone called back, whoever was on at the time could say, "Yes, I'm Mrs. Sanders. How can I help you?" There was only one way out of our hole, and that was up a flight of stairs -- which is clearly against fire code. The whole thing was pretty much a nightmare, and definitely not worth the dollar over minimum wage that I made. After I quit, I would always scour the newspapers to see if there had been a fire in there, killing all the employees because they had no fire escape. In conclusion, I wish someone had called the Canadian equivalent of OSHA on that place; it never occurred to me at the time that I could have done it myself. I think that was the worst and yet most colourful job in my career.
Anyway, after the break, it's the usual ER madhouse, with horribly injured people crammed in like sardines. Luka gets a patient with "full thickness burns" over most of his body; as they wheel him past Finger, Finger calls out, "Ernesto!" and seems pretty agitated. They converse in Spanish, and the paramedic confirms that Finger and Ernesto work together. Luka looks over at Weaver, who looks guilty, and then covers by calling to Mark to ask what's open; they end up taking Ernesto, the burn victim, to a suture room.
Weaver crutches into a trauma room, where Malucci is treating a woman who's jittering on the bed; Malucci suspects she's suffered an electrical burn, and that she may have touched a power line when she pulled some rubble off her daughter. She asks something in anguished Spanish, and Dr. Dave answers; it really galls me that Dr. Dave can do something I can't. The patient (let's call her Watts, in honour of the possible electrical burn) says she doesn't know where her daughter is; Dr. Dave says the daughter is five and her first name is Araceli. Weaver tells Haleh to contact Dispatch and find out whether they have a five-year-old girl. Watts is still jittering; Weaver orders that she be put on a pulse ox. Haleh removes one of Watts's shoes and says she's found an exit wound; Weaver asks where the entry is, and Dr. Dave observes, "She's burned from the inside out." Weaver asks Dr. Dave the voltage on the line Watts may have touched, and he says he doesn't know; Weaver barks at him to get on the phone to "the incident commander" and find out.
In the room, Carter and Benton work on a patient on the bed who is struggling against their ministrations. Carter thinks he has "about twenty percent partial thickness burns." Benton yells that he needs a chest tube. Chuny comes in to tell Lily she needs her to prep for an escharotomy. Carter comments, "That doesn't sound very good." Chuny asks her to come set up a laryngoscope; Lily says she will in a minute, Chuny says she needs it now, and Benton tells Lily to go.
Chuny and Lily hurry into the room, where Luka is treating Ernesto. Luka estimates ninety-two percent surface area burns. Damn. Ernesto's skin is reptilian in texture, and a terrible, angry purple colour. Ernesto asks Chuny how bad it is; Luka tells her to say that it's very serious. Ernesto asks whether he's going to die. I guess he doesn't notice the fact that Luka's black cowl is practically concealing his whole face, and that his scythe keeps getting tangled in the IV tubes. Luka replies, "Most likely, yes." Chuny relays the answer, and Ernesto huffs a bit; I can't tell if he's crying.
Elsewhere, Mark's just finished intubating another patient, backed up by Elizabeth. She asks Mark whether he knows how the fire started, and he says he thinks someone kicked over a space heater while running out of the basement and ignited some paint thinner. Blah blah jargon blah. Elizabeth calls for a chest CT and tells them to move the patient. Malik stops her, and says that the patient's "crit's low at thirty-one." Elizabeth stops like a deer caught in headlights. Everyone pauses, waiting for her answer. Mark prompts her, "Do you want to take him up to the OR?" in case she's forgotten what she used to do in this situation. Elizabeth babbles, "No, I don't want to cut him open if I don't have to. It could just be an intercostal artery." Malik and Mark both stare back silently, doubting her as hard as they can. Elizabeth throws up her hands and relents, "Fine, fine. We'll do a transesophageal echo." They head for the OR.
The camera pans by, catching Lisa as she carries Araceli in to see Watts. Mother and daughter cry and reach out for each other. Lisa tells Dr. Dave that Araceli is basically okay, and Dr. Dave passes on the information to Watts. Weaver tells Lisa to go, and Dr. Dave adds that Watts wants Lisa to take care of Araceli. Weaver guardedly watches Watts's face.
Carter and Benton still can't control their patient, who's flailing about and yelling. Carter calls out his stats, and Benton instructs him to "push some Versed." "What?" Carter demurs. (Second base.) Benton tells him it's right in front of him, and indeed it is -- on a stand, oh so close to Carter's hand, smelling just like sweet, sweet candy. Carter tells Benton he's not allowed to administer it. Benton yells even louder, but Carter holds his ground, and then rushes into Watts's trauma room and tells Dr. Dave to go push some Versed for Benton. Dr. Dave says he's busy, and Carter repeats the order and says he'll take over for Dr. Dave. They bicker for a moment, and then Weaver sends Dr. Dave in to help with Benton's trauma. Watts starts crashing, and they shock her a few times.
In the OR, the patient is prepped for surgery, but Elizabeth's still delaying the surgery as long as she possibly can by performing an ultrasound on his chest, claiming that she "can't isolate the aorta." Dr. Babcock, the anaesthesiologist who's rapidly becoming my favourite character on the show, tells Elizabeth she has to start now. "Not blind, I don't," she snaps, and then, watching the ultrasound screen, hisses, "Come on. Come on!" Finally she sees something and yells, "Okay, there! There's extraluminal fluid -- he's torn his aorta." "No kidding," snorts Dr. Babcock. Dr. Babcock? Marry me. Elizabeth flares her nostrils in a particularly Dawsonian display of impotent, adolescent rage, and tells a nurse to set up a thoracotomy tray. Everyone stares at Elizabeth and broadcasts their collective disdain of her ability to complete this job. Elizabeth also tells them to "call the perfusionist," and says she'll scrub in. "Scrub fast," drawls Dr. Babcock. A nurse asks her how much blood she'll need, and Elizabeth answers, "Eight more units, type-specific."
Downstairs, the camera's all arty diagonal as Weaver continues shocking Watts. Which is ironic, under the circumstances. Dr. Dave comes back in to start CPR, and sends Carter out.
Carter follows Benton with the bed, as Benton updates Carter on the state of the patient. Carter apologizes, but explains that he's not allowed to push controlled substances. Benton snarls that the patient was about to arrest, and Carter insists, "It's part of my diversion agreement." Benton declares, "You know what? Sometimes you make exceptions." "No exceptions," Carter replies. "Well, then you don't need to be in there," says Benton. "What?" sniffs Carter. Second base! Benton goes on, "If you can't treat a patient, you don't need to be in the room." Carter says he didn't make the rules, and Benton says, "You know, sometimes you've got to use your own judgment." Carter says, again, "It's non-negotiable! If I push the Versed, I'm out of here!" Benton asks, "How long has it been? Eight months?" Looking away, Carter semi-lies, "Yeah." Benton huffs, "This is ridiculous. I'll talk to Weaver." Malik shows up with an x-ray for Benton, and Carter tells Benton not to bother Weaver with it: "I'll handle it. It'll just piss her off, anyway." Benton replies, "Yeah, well, you know what? I'm pissed off." He pulls the bed into the elevator adding, "You should be pissed off." Carter says it's his own problem, and Benton clichés, "No, Carter. It's everybody's problem." As the doors slide shut, Carter begs, "Just don't talk to Weaver. Please?"
Elsewhere, Ernesto continues to die. In fact, he asks Chuny exactly when he's going to die, and Luka says it'll be in about a week, from infection; his body won't be able to keep the bacteria out. He'll also suffer a severe fluid imbalance, and possible kidney failure. And, on top of that, they'll have to intubate him. Before they stick the tube down his throat, he asks if they can find his wife. Luka asks whether he has a number for her, but Ernesto says that she's in Guatemala, and there's no phone there. Ernesto tells Chuny that he has $520 in a little box by his bed; he lives in a garage at 395 Londale Street. He asks Luka if he can get they money to his wife, and tell her what happened to him. Luka says he will. Ernesto asks Luka also to tell his wife that he loves her very much. It's all very sad and quiet.
Weaver continues shocking Watts with the paddles, but it's no good; Weaver calls the time of death, snaps off her gloves, and responds perfunctorily as Dr. Dave tries to mollify her by saying that Watts's internal injuries were too great for her to survive. Malik appears at the door to say that paramedics found more victims.
Oh, God, cue the embarrassing "Ray of Light" slo-mo "What have I done? My God, what have I done?" montage of Weaver looking around at all the victims -- including...is that a slightly charred Rex the Wonder Preemie lurking around a few burnt women like some kind of midget pimp? -- and then back at the supremely reproachful Luka. Dude, that shit is scrapy.
Elizabeth is in the midst of operating, and I guess it's been going on a while because she's started freaking out. She whines that she needs "better exposure," and demands a "large Deaver." The nurse tells her she is, in fact, using a large Deaver. Elizabeth anxiously says she needs more retraction, then. Dr. Babcock quietly says he can't maintain the patient's pressure much longer. Elizabeth asks a nurse where the bypass machine is; the nurse says that two open-heart surgeries are taking place at the moment, and that the first will be finished in thirty minutes. "I need [the machine] now!" Elizabeth squeals. Um, Liz? Not the best way to inspire confidence in your co-workers. "Right now," Dr. Babcock repeats. "These are my last two units." Elizabeth tells the nurse, "You go in there, you tell them we have an unstable patient in here." The nurse replies, "I did. The pump's not available for...now it's twenty-nine minutes." Something starts beeping, and Dr. Babcock says, "You've got to cross-clamp him." Elizabeth breathlessly mutters, "No. If I do that, I'll cut off circulation to his spinal cord." "Or you could let him bleed out," says Dr. Babcock. "I will not paralyze this man!" Elizabeth declares. "You wanna kill him?" Dr. Babcock asks. When Kim and I were discussing this episode, I said how much I thought Dr. Babcock ruled, and Kim agreed that he was totally Nick Burns, Your Company's Anaesthesiologist. Now I'm sitting here wishing he'd just bark, "MOVE," shove Elizabeth out of the way, and finish the operation himself. But that doesn't happen. Instead, Elizabeth soulfully moans, "I can't isolate the aorta." Dr. Babcock apparently has no response to that. More things start beeping, and Elizabeth chokes, "Find Romano." "We can't wait!" bellows Dr. Babcock. Elizabeth sends a nurse running.
Downstairs, things have settled down a bit. Mark comes out to the desk in his coat, handing off a chart and telling Carter there's a girl waiting for a leg-burn debridement. Carter says that the burn unit's full, and asks if the patient needs to be admitted. Mark replies, "No, give him thermazine to use at home." "Boy or girl?" Carter asks. "What?" Mark asks. Um. Second base. Can someone write that down? "You just said 'him,'" Carter explains. "Carter, I'm really tired," whines Mark, and leaves. Carter glances up to eavesdrop on a heated debate between Weaver and Benton; she's telling him, "It's none of your business," and he replies, "It is when it affects patient care." Weaver says that Carter did what he was supposed to do. Benton says that the patient's sats were dropping, and that Carter's leaving to get Dr. Dave was an unnecessary delay. Weaver finally loses it and snaps, "Peter, you are a surgical consultant! You do not dictate ER policy!" Benton sniffs, "This is not policy, Kerry; this is punishment." Weaver continues checking patients sitting in the hall as she tells Benton, "We are not going to have this conversation." Benton waits for a second and then asks, "What do you have against him?" "What?" Weaver blurts. For the last time, SECOND! BASE! Benton says, "Yeah, he made a mistake -- he got through it." Weaver angrily says, "Peter, for the last time, the terms of Carter's diversion program are not your concern!" Benton persists, "You know what, Kerry? It's time to let up. He's been clean now for what? Eight months." "Has he?" she squints. Benton, for real -- shut up. Because you don't want to end up with that cane up your ass, and after the day my girl's had, you're gonna.
In the OR, the Marimba of Incompetence pulses on the soundtrack as Elizabeth continues murdering her patient. There's just all kinds of blood everywhere and she's clearly losing it, as her strangled and breathless voice indicates. She begs for Romano, and the nurse said she paged him three times. Elizabeth asks whether the nurse checked his office, and she says she also checked the lounge and called his cell phone. In desperation, Elizabeth tells the nurse to page the resident on call. "The resident?" the nurse repeats incredulously. "Yes! Just get him!" Dr. Babcock says that the patient's blood pressure is dropping. Elizabeth -- in an impatiently patient tone -- tells him to hang two more units. "This is all I've got," Dr. Babcock reminds her, and in the same tone of voice she says, "So call the blood bank!" He reminds her, "They're out of A-positive -- I told you!" "Then get O-negative!" she screams, and hurls a bloody swab at the glass door. Cut to a window to what may be the scrub room, where Romano's been hovering like Yoda at the end of Jedi, watching the whole procedure. Elizabeth shrieks, "For God's sake, just keep transfusing him! Don't you understand I need more time?!" Dr. Babcock hisses, "You've got to cross-clamp him now." The nurse asks whether Elizabeth wants the Zanger or the Crawford. It sounds like they've brought in some extra machines just to beep and rattle her. A few moments pass as Elizabeth breathes heavily and considers. Romano, behind the glass, doesn't take his eyes off her. Elizabeth finally says, "The Crawford. Crawford. We'll establish proximal control." Long story short, she regains control and stabilizes the patient, seemingly remembering all at once how to be a surgeon. She calls out a bunch of orders and then says, "I'm okay. I'm okay." Maybe so, but if I were a nurse, or Dr. Babcock, I'd make sure I was never alone in an OR with Whiny von Screamington again.
Carter enters the lounge, where Benton is flipping through his pile of med-school applications. Carter asks why they're in two piles, and Benton says that one pile is the applicants who'll get interviews, and the other pile is those who won't. Carter asks whether Benton has some kind of "special secret formula" to determine which applicants go where, and Benton drones, "GPA times competitive factor plus MCAT scores. Over twenty-five, you get an interview." "You don't read the letters of recommendation?" Carter asks. "After the interview," says Benton. Carter comments, "Poor kids. I don't know if I would have made it in if I'd had to interview with you. How'd you get on the committee?" Benton quietly replies, "I'm busy, Carter." Carter asks if Benton talked to Weaver, and Benton says he did. Carter, deeply ashamed, stammers, "It was nothing. It was...a slip -- not even a slip, you know? I threw them up!" He walks out. Benton says nothing. Okay, now I feel bad for Carter, because Benton's disapproval has to be a very heavy burden. Plus, Lisa's congratulation of his honesty must seem a lot warmer and sweeter by comparison.
Post-surgery, Elizabeth monitors her patient. He seems fine. She does a neurological check and determines that he is not paralyzed. Romano, out of his scrubs and on his way home, comes to the door and says, "Lizzie, you called for me?" "Yeah, over an hour ago," she sniffs. He says he's here now, and asks what the emergency is. Elizabeth excuses herself and goes over to him, quietly explaining, "We had a little trouble with an aortic graft, and I wanted a second pair of hands." He curtly asks whether he needs to worry about another lawsuit, and she sputters, "No. No! Things got hairy for a moment, but I pulled him through." "Well, that's your job, isn't it?" he says. "Yes, it is," she agrees. He says he's late for dinner, and books. I don't know what happened in the OR, but she seems to be totally back to her former confident self. Perhaps she's even confident enough to ditch Mark once and for all.
Back at the rest home, Chase is way in the foreground, looking like a grumpy blond Hyde. Carter enters with a bag and a milkshake, and Chase pouts at him to go away. Carter pulls up a chair and announces that he had a reason for not coming to see Chase. He blurts out the story about Lucy's death, his own stabbing, and his subsequent painkiller addiction. This seems to alarm Chase; the actor actually makes a really funny face, like Carter's a stranger sharing too much, and he's making eye contact with us, the audience, as if to communicate, "Who the fuck is this guy and why is he telling me this?" It's evocative, but not exactly appropriate for the scene given their relationship. Anyway, Carter continues his confession: he doesn't know what would have happened if he hadn't gotten busted, but he did, and then he got sent to rehab, and he did the program, and he pretended that he bought into it and did everything he was supposed to do, but he never really believed that he had anything to do with what had happened to him. Then he almost relapsed -- or, did relapse. And he didn't come to see Chase because he didn't want to admit that he was just like Chase, but the truth is that there isn't a day that goes by that he doesn't think about getting high -- it's the first thing he thinks about when he gets up, the last he thinks about when he goes to sleep, and the thing he thinks about all day long. Carter furrows his brow and admits, "I'm a drug addict." Chase is spectacularly unimpressed by all of this; he groans loudly as if he wishes he hadn't heard any of it, and asks, "Did you bring any french fries?" Carter chuckles, and tosses Chase the bag. Chase? Word.
At the hospital, Weaver's in her coat, preparing to leave. A social worker is conversing in Spanish with Araceli, and stops when she sees Weaver. The social worker asks whether Watts said anything about relatives in either Chicago or Guatemala; Weaver wearily says they didn't have time to ask. The social worker makes to head back to Araceli, but Weaver stops her and asks what's going to happen to Araceli. The social worker says they'll put her in a group home for the moment. Weaver asks whether she'll be deported, and the social worker says she won't unless they know she's going back to family; otherwise she'll stay in the U.S., become a ward of the state, and end up with a Spanish-speaking foster family. Weaver looks stricken, and nods faintly. The sad music starts up, and Weaver heads out.
Weaver crutches through the ambulance bay.
Weaver gets out of her car and walks up to her front door. She goes to open the door, and then flattens herself against the wall for a second, and heads back down to the street.
Weaver ascends the stairs to the el platform, because that's where people go to cry. Dude, wouldn't she rather think about her shitty day in a cab?
On the el, Weaver clutches her purse on her lap, and the singer wails, "Scared of the things that people say." Like, that lesbians should have hysterectomies? Because Weaver is one, now? Get it? No, are you sure you get it? Because I can explain it again. It's kind of subtle. Laura Innes does such a good job looking totally lost and vulnerable that this shitty-ass anvil music is really doing her performance a disservice.
Weaver crutches along a sidewalk and knocks on a front door, which is presently opened by Mitchell, who beams at the sight of her and reaches out to invite her in. Aw. "It's nice to have someone to go home to," as Weaver herself once observed.