Props to Sars and Djb, who are in a car on their way here as I write this, which is why I have to finish this recap in the four hours -- a feat I have never accomplished before. Wish me luck!
Previously on ER: Romano told Weaver to take care of Mark the feeb; Weaver and Kim got it on, and Weaver more or less asked Kim to keep it a secret; Benton was named Director of Diversity, and cannily figured out that he only got the job because he's black; Luka told Bishop Cromwell he had lupus, but the bishop already knew; Weaver called a medical review board to ask that they send someone to evaluate a doctor who's possibly cognitively impaired -- and, no, she wasn't talking about Dr. Dave. If she were, she'd have left off the word "possibly."
Fade from the "previously"s to a shot of some tree branches, bare but for a solid-looking covering of ice, as you see after a fall of freezing rain. Snow blows artily.
Fade to the trees as seen from inside a bedroom, through the window. Lest we wonder for even one second where we are, we hear the voice of Peter "Say It Loud! I'm Black and I'm Proud!" Benton (as the camera pans across a clock radio reading "5:45") asking "MS" Cleo"ffice Suite" Finch whether she's asleep. She grunts. He tells her that it's snowing outside. She asks what time it is, and he says it's almost six. He asks if she knows what he's thinking. Oh, gross. She tells him the alarm's going off in ten minutes. Dude, I bet they both have such nasty breath right now. Whatever, they start doing it until Benton's bodily fluids short out Finch's motherboard.
Fade to another bedroom, where Elizabeth "Cri de" Corday asks Mark "Mean Joe" Greene if he "feel[s] it." After a moment we see that he's got his hand on her exposed belly and his head on her bosom. Mark notes, "She's really moving," and asks how long "she" has been going on like this; Elizabeth says it's been on and off all night. Her voice is dreamy and distorted and doesn't sound like her at all. Mark makes a "shh" noise and tells the fetus to go back to sleep; Elizabeth beams indulgently. I'm sure this is meant to convince us that, despite Elizabeth's attitude the past few episodes, she really does like Mark -- no, really, she does! She's just been really stressed out, and he's been really bald and penis-like...I mean, "recovering from his surgery!" But I am not moved by this display. The scar on Mark's head has faded and now is just a red line that could result from his wearing a pair of headphones clamped too tightly to his head. Elizabeth says that she keeps thinking about that movie: "Alien. You know, it's moving around under his skin, and then all of a sudden it breaks its way through with its teeth." Thank God -- I thought she was going to say she keeps thinking about the movie My Life, and I just do not have time to run downstairs and vomit today. Mark hisses, "Amanda! Stop it, you're scaring your mother!" Uh. "Amanda"? Like Amanda Lee, the crazy stalker? Why not Cynthia? Or Jen? Anyway, Elizabeth replies, "'Amanda'? So the baby's a girl today?" "Or Matthew, after my grandfather," Mark offers, adding that he can't decide. Elizabeth, stroking what hair there is on his head, coos, "Last day." "Last day," Mark agrees. Elizabeth sighs, and covers her face, starting to cry. Mark asks, "What?" She silently shakes her head. He tells her it's okay, and kisses her. Again, gross.
Another bedroom, another free show. Kerry "Heche with a Crutch" Weaver rolls over between peach-coloured sheets and sighs contentedly. Kim "Mitchell" Legaspi, in a silky robe, steps toward her and whispers, "Hi! Did I wake you?" Weaver grunts a "no" sound; Mitchell says she was trying to let Weaver sleep, and sits on the edge of the bed. Weaver says she should probably get home, anyway. Mitchell suggests that Weaver bring a few things over to Mitchell's, if she's going to be sleeping there, and offers to clear out some closet space. "Are you sure you can spare it?" Weaver smiles. No. She can't spare it. She can't spare a square. She doesn't have a square to spare! Well, maybe a couple of inches. They both chuckle fondly. Mitchell says that she needs to dry her hair, and Weaver quietly grunts an "okay" sound. Mitchell gazes at her, then takes Weaver's hand and kisses the palm. Mitchell makes to get up, and then asks, "Are you going to watch me again?" Weaver grunts a "yes" noise. "Again"? I don't know. The blow dryer starts. Weaver watches. The Look...Of Love...Is In...Her Eyes.
Another dark bedroom. In shadow, so that we can barely make her out, Abby "Lisa" Lockhart, clutching another hand, kisses the one that...you know, isn't her own, and then we see that...Oh, lordy. Okay, she was on top of Luka "Altar Boy" Kovac, and he's naked -- at least, his chest is. And there it is. All naked. Showing nipple. And he's wearing a satisfied post-coital smile. And...I have the vapours now. Lisa lies down to him, her head on his shoulder, and he wraps his arm around her. She blearily asks if he's okay, and he grunts (all about the grunts, this sequence) that he is, and asks if she is; she is. He strokes her hair and pensively stares ahead. After a silent moment -- all too short for this recapper's taste, given my time constraints -- Lisa murmurs, "Penny for your thoughts." "Pardon?" Luka asks. Lisa explains, "It means, 'What are you thinking about?'" Luka says he's not thinking about anything, really, then amends his earlier statement to say that he was thinking about the bishop. Lisa cracks, "Making love with me makes you think of a priest with lupus?" They both laugh, and then both are silent. Lisa opens her eyes suddenly and non sequiturs, "You watch me when we make love." "You're beautiful," Luka tells her. She opens her eyes again, and asks, "What was her name?" "Who?" Luka plays dumb. "Your wife," Lisa duhs. "Daniela," Luka replies. "Did you love her very much?" Lisa leads the witness. "Yeah," Luka murmurs. "I'm glad," Lisa sighs. Sorry, but where I come from, that's what chemistry looks like. Just saying.
After the commercials -- which I use to take a cold shower and try to ignore Luka's gorgeous naked chest, burned, as it now is, on my retinas -- we're at County, following John "Smirk Van Houten" Carter (uncoupled, sleeping alone, left out of the opening sequence) as he struts through the halls. Chuny tells him that a four-year-old is coming in from pre-school; he has a fever and (yay, Amy Aquino's in this episode) is having trouble breathing. The camera continues following Carter as he makes his way to the desk, asking Frank whether Mark's in yet. Frank says that Mark had told him he'd be late, and adds that Weaver's upstairs at an administrative meeting: "Probably suggesting the installation of pay toilets in the employee bathrooms." Carter, having now arrived at the board, ignores Frank and quietly asks Lisa, standing by, whether Luka's in. Lisa says, "He's got a dead shovel in Three; they're trying to bring him back." First of all, that guy's not coming back, as we all know by now. Second, this provides a nice contrast against Mark; unlike Mark in the last episode, Luka actually tries to revive even the no-hoper patients when paramedics bring them in. Why does he try? Because he does not suck -- another important difference between him and Mark. Anyway, Carter notes that it'll be just him and Lisa working on the four-year-old, setting up the entrance of Jing-Mei "Deb" Chen, who adds, "Hey, I can take it!" Ming-Na? Looks great. Carter looks happy to see her and welcomes her back. Lisa asks Chen how she's feeling, and Chen says that she's "pretty good." Before handing her a pair of gloves, Carter asks whether she wants him to tag along; Chen confidently says that she's got it. "Eight weeks -- could be some cobwebs," Carter needles her. Chen snatches the gloves out of his hand and smirks that she'll be fine. As she heads toward the ambulance bay, Carter tells Lisa to call him if Chen runs into any trouble. Carter? You are about the last person anyone should call if they need help, unless the patient has a severe and life-threatening smirk deficiency and needs you to provide some emergency smirk therapy.
Outside, Lisa tells Chen that she looks great, because she does. Chen snorts that she still has a few pounds to drop, and Lisa tells her that you can't tell, because you can't. The ambulance pulls up; Chen, dressed only in her lab coat, shivers that she should have brought out a jacket; Lisa tells her to go get a jacket, but Chen says she'll be okay. The doors of the rig open and Pam says that the patient -- the four-year-old, of course -- had a grand mal seizure at his pre-school. A civilian hops out of the rig -- played by the same woman who was the dog-fixated contestant in Drop Dead Gorgeous -- and says that they were just finishing arts and crafts when he started shaking and wet his pants. Lisa asks whether she's the boy's mother, but she says he's his teacher. Pam calls out his vitals. Chen asks the teacher whether the kid -- Zack -- has a history of epilepsy, and the teacher (let's call her Miss Pre-School) says he doesn't, that she knows of. Chen leans over him and loudly calls for him to open his eyes, but he doesn't. Just then, Bishop Cromwell's priest-assistant -- let's call him Father Lackey -- shows up and asks Chen to help him. Chen, having been off since before Christmas, doesn't recognize him, and asks him whether he's hurt. The priest stammers, "No, no, no, it's not me. He's in the car. He's very weak." Chen asks Lisa to go.
Following Fr. Lackey to the car, Lisa asks what's wrong with the patient (and, gee, I wonder who it'll be? Not). Fr. Lackey says that he's having trouble breathing, that he's been ill, and that the current crisis started a couple of hours ago. They reach the car; Lisa opens the door and peers in; coming as a surprise to no one, it's Bishop Cromwell. "Hello!" he greets her, warmly. I can't tell whether she recognizes him or not, but she must, because of the Luka connection. Anyway, she asks him whether he can walk, and he allows, "I don't think so."
In a trauma room, Zack appears not to have awakened, but the machines beeping seem to be regular and not crashing or anything. Lisa enters and apologizes for her delay, explaining, "The bishop's back." But that would mean nothing to Chen, so...I don't know. Anyway, Chen tells Lisa that she needs Zack's weight; Lisa figures it out, using a folding chart, as twenty kilos. Machines start beeping more urgently, and Chen tells Malik to put Zack on a mask. Lisa asks Chen whether she wants to do a spinal tap. This stops Chen; she considers a moment. Lisa adds, "He could have meningitis." Chen counters, in a mild tone of voice, "Or it could be febrile seizure and he's going to wake up." Lisa offers to get an LP tray, and Chen, more testily, says that she wants to wait a few more minutes. Lisa looks as though she's literally biting her tongue. Chen calls out some more drug orders, and then gives Lisa a good, old-fashioned glaring. Chen, simmer down, and put your hair up.
Benton toils at a desk. Robert "Rocket" Romano appears in his doorway and makes a few snide remarks about the (shitty) state of Benton's office. Benton seems to be working in the steam pipe trunk distribution venue, just like poor Ainsley does: the overhead lights are hanging way too low (and are buzzing loudly, for good measure), he's been issued only cheap steel shelves, the venetian blinds appear to be broken, and there's a lot of clanging ambient noise from outside. Benton takes Romano's ribbing in fairly good humour, under the circumstances: "Well, I requisitioned some furniture, but I hear the form is still on your desk, waiting for your signature." Romano claims that his in-box is full, and asks whether Benton's working on admissions folders. Benton says he is, and that he thought he might familiarize himself with the candidates before meeting them. Romano advises, "Don't bother. Kids come in, they're going to toss out a bunch of tired clichés about wanting to help people. You could ask them their favourite colour, you could ask them whether or not they like cheese -- doesn't matter." If liking cheese is all it takes, I would make a Heluva good doctor. (Get it?) Romano turns on his heel and tells Benton to follow him, which Benton does, after a moment.
In the hall, we see a young, African-American guy sitting in a chair; even from far off, you can tell he's tensely waiting. Lowering his voice, Romano tells Benton, "He showed up in my office whining about not getting an interview, so I thought you should shake his hand -- since this sort of falls under your purview -- before you had the security toss him out." Romano struts off before Benton can answer. Benton gives the standard "fucking Romano" sigh and head shake. As Romano passes in front of the candidate, he indicates Benton and says, "That's your man." The student introduces himself to "Dean Benton" (Benton quickly corrects him: "Dr. Benton") as William White. He starts to tell his story. Benton looks reasonably patient...for Benton.
Back in Zack's trauma room, Malik says that Miss Pre-School doesn't have a signed emergency consent form. Chen asks Lisa how long Zack's been out; Lisa says it's been forty minutes. Chen leans over Zack again and tries the "please wake up" method of emergency treatment before Lisa curtly declares, "He needs an LP." What's wrong with CDs, you vinyl snob? (Get it? Dude, I'm in a hurry, here. Pretend I'm Henny Youngman if you have to.) Plus, Lisa? You're a nurse, so stick an orthopedic stocking in it. Chen reminds Lisa that they don't have parental consent to perform one, and Lisa bossily tells her to get another doctor to sign off the chart with her. Lisa, who do you think you are, Haleh? Chen relents, telling Lisa to set up the tray.
Chen finds Carter, and catches him up on the situation. He asks whether there are any other signs; she says that the x-ray looks like viral pneumonia, that she can't assess for a stiff neck, but that there is viral pneumonia. Carter agreeably asks where he should sign.
Luka silently examines Bishop Cromwell. Chuny, off-screen, says that Bishop Cromwell's oxygen saturation is only seventy-eight. Bishop Cromwell asks what it should be, and she tells him it should be a hundred. Bishop Cromwell twinkles, "Seventy-eight sounds like a passing grade!" "Barely," Luka snaps, and gives Chuny some orders, concluding, "Hang a gram of Cefotaxime in case of [sic] it's pneumonia." "'Pneumonia'?" Bishop Cromwell repeats. "I don't even feel like I have a fever!" Luka says that the steroids prevent him from having fevers, and then, before Bishop Cromwell can answer, tells Chuny to push more Solumedrol. "You're giving me more steroids?" Bishop Cromwell asks. Luka explains, "You could have a flare of the lupus [which he pronounces "loo-poose" as if it almost rhymed with "papoose," and sounds really cute] with inflammation in the lung. There's also a chance that you're throwing blood clots." Bishop Cromwell anxiously rubs his eyes. Luka adds, "Lupus makes your blood coagulate more easily." He then asks, "Have you called your own doctor." "No?" Bishop Cromwell says, as if he's a naughty teenager who's been caught in a transgression. Luka says he'll call him, and Bishop Cromwell growls, "No." Luka, getting angry: "Why -- because you think I'm easier to manipulate?" Bishop Cromwell chuckles., "I'm not nearly as Machiavellian as you imagine me to be. I came here because I prefer your care." Luka sighs, and presses his lovely lips together in luscious exasperation. Okay, I'm sorry -- I'm still getting flashbacks to NippleCon 2K1. He's hot, is my point.
Zack's trauma room. Machines are beeping. Nosy Carter has joined the party. Chen has just finished performing the spinal tap, and comments that the fluid looks pretty clear. She hands it to Malik, ordering a bunch of tests. Carter -- basically just getting in everyone's way at this point -- picks up one of his sneakers and says, "He's got those shoes that light up when you walk. How do you think they do that?" Malik seems equally fascinated with Zack's shoes. Aw, Malik. Lisa is like, whatever, Bill Nye, get out of the way so that Chen and I can roll the patient back over. Carter finally examines Zack himself and asks Chen, "What is that?" Chen asks what he means. Carter puts his hands on Zack's face and, in a close-up, we see a purplish discoloration around Zack's left eye. Carter tells Chen that she hadn't said anything about a macular rash. Chen says that he didn't have one half an hour ago, and supposes that it could be a "viral exanthem." Carter notes that it could be measles. "Measles?" Lisa incredulously repeats. Carter runs through Zack's symptoms: "Fever, altered mental status, pneumonia." Chen dismissively argues, "Or, more likely, he has a virus with pneumonia, and had a febrile seizure from the high temperature." Carter examines Zack's face and, jostling his head back and forth, maintains that Zack is evincing a "classic measles rash," and asks Lisa for a tongue depressor. They remove Zack's mask as Chen asks Carter whether he's ever seen measles. He says he hasn't, and asks if she has. She says of course she hasn't: "Nobody's seen measles." Okay, I know it's not common, but it's not like it's the Bubonic Plague. I'm only twenty-six, and I think I even remember a couple of kids getting the measles when I was in school -- or, at least, that it was discussed (often in concert with mumps) so that people were aware that the disease existed and that you could get it. At any rate, I find it difficult to believe that "nobody's seen measles" in a room full of medical professionals. But I digress, sort of. Carter checks out Zack's mouth and exclaims, "He's got Koplik spots on the buccal mucosa!" "What?" says Chen, looking for herself and then suggesting, "Or he bit the inside of his mouth when he was seizing." Carter tells Malik that there's a Nelson's (which I assume is a medical encyclopedia of some kind though I couldn't find it on Amazon) in the lounge, and asks him to go get it. Everyone looks tense. Carter shines a light in Zack's eyes.
After a moment, a pretty woman who looks like the love child of Paula Marshall and Megan Mullally trots in. Miss Pre-School says that she's Mrs. Woodman, Zack's mother. Mrs. Woodman anxiously exposits that she was in court and had to turn off her cell phone. Chen catches Mrs. Woodman up on what's happened so far, and Carter asks her whether Zack's immunizations are up to date. "No," she says, flatly. Carter asks whether he's had the MMR (a big one to vaccinate kids against measles, mumps, and rubella, a.k.a. German Measles), and Mrs. Woodman announces, "He hasn't had any immunizations -- none of our children have." Immediately after she's uttered the word "have," there is a single timpani drum beat on the soundtrack to let us know that things are going to start getting very bad, very soon -- although my Pavlovian response to the Timpani of Crisis is not anxiety but boredom. Because I get it. Please, John Wells, I promise -- I already get it. Don't bludgeon me with an MMR booster -- my shots are up to date! Before anyone can answer Mrs. Woodman (or set in place her sash and tiara for winning what we're to think is the deserved title of Worst Mother of the Year), Malik runs in with the medical book. Carter tells Lisa to put a mask on Zack. Mrs. Woodman shrills, "What the hell is happening?" Malik opens the book to show Chen a diagram, and she replies by drawling, "Ohhhhhh my god." The music gets more agitated. Carter exposits that they have to get Zack into a "laminar flow room." Chen yells at Miss Pre-School to call the school, and not to let anyone leave. Jesus, it's measles, not the Andromeda Strain! Everyone prepares to move Zack. Mrs. Woodman asks what's wrong, and Chen intones, "Your son has measles." "That's not too bad, right?" Mrs. Woodman hopefully asks. Chen PSAs, "One in five hundred kids die [sic] from measles." They leave Mrs. Woodman alone to think -- really think -- about what she's done.
One segment = two hours. Dude, I am so dead.
Elizabeth is at the ER desk when Mark strolls up like the cock of the...ER. Frankly. Because that's what he's always looked like to me -- a big penis. I may have mentioned that before. Anyway, she says hi to him and asks how it went. Mark -- breathlessly, like he's trying to curb his excitement -- says that it was fine. "'Fine'?" she repeats. "That's it?" Mark elaborates, "I laid down. They shot a couple billion more rads into my skull, and then I left." "And that's it?" she asks. Mark makes a lame joke about his "irradiated head" and the navigational equipment on airplanes, but it's too stupid to repeat. Elizabeth looks like she's going to cry, and then starts sloppily making out with him, I guess out of relief. Gross. She says she has to go, and invites him to have lunch. He says he'll have lunch with her if he can, and that she should come find him. She takes off. "Dr." Dave Malucci, eavesdropping on the entire exchange, ambles over and asks Mark to confirm that his radiation treatment is over; Mark says it is, but that there'll be two more weeks of immune therapy. Dr. Dave says that's great. Frank tries, and fails, to get Mark's attention. Dr. Dave asks, "Did they give you the tumour back?...When they took it out, did they give it back to you? Because my Uncle Al, he's got his on the mantel in a jar." In the pause that ensues after this revelation, Frank tells Mark there's a guy waiting to speak with him. Mark, walking off, tells Dr. Dave, "I don't really want a tumour on my mantel." Tumour on my Mantel -- the title of my third album.
Mark introduces himself to a guy by the ambulance bay. The guy says his name is Robert Wilson, and asks whether there's someplace they may speak. Mark says that he's on duty. Wilson says that it would be better if they could speak in private. Mark starts to ask Mr. Wilson what he wants, but Wilson corrects him: "Dr. Wilson." Mark asks what he wants, and Wilson says, "I work for the Illinois Department of Professional Regulation." He lowers his voice to add, "We've been asked to evaluate your competency to continue practicing medicine." Mark stares at him real hard -- and the squinting does not help to make him look any less penile.
Carter, Chen, and Finch all gaze through the window of what is presumably the laminar flow room of which Carter spoke earlier. Carter and Chen are in scrubs now; I don't know if we're supposed to think that the measles is so contagious that they took off their street clothes and burned them, or something. Anyway, Finch is asking where Zack got measles, and Carter says he thinks it was in Paris, since Mrs. Woodman was recently there on business. Finch, all audience surrogate, asks, "Is she some fringe lunatic -- thinks immunizations are a conspiracy between doctors and drug companies?" Geez, Finch, why not ask her yourself? Make sure to use those words, too. Chen quietly says she doesn't think so. Finch instructs them, "Talk to the mom. Find out if there are other kids at home, where the child's been, anyone he's had contact with over the last week." Carter takes off to do so.
Carter finds Mrs. Woodman waiting, with Miss Pre-School, in chairs. Mrs. Woodman leaps up as soon as she sees Carter, and asks, "How is he? They won't let me back there." Carter -- allowing the subtlest bit of judgment to creep into his voice -- tells her, "We had to move him to a room with a special ventilation system so that he doesn't contaminate the rest of the ER." Mrs. Woodman asks whether Zack's awake. Carter says that he's still unconscious: "He has pneumonia and, in all likelihood, encephalitis." Miss Pre-School, listening, gets up and stands by Mrs. Woodman, who asks what encephalitis is. Carter says that it's an inflammation around the brain, and asks Miss Pre-School whether she was able to get in touch with the pre-school. She says she did, and that all the children are still there. Mrs. Woodman crosses her arms. Carter tells Miss Pre-School, "You need to make sure that they've all been immunized -- their parents, their siblings, anyone that they've come into contact with." He directs her to the phone at the desk, and she books.
Carter sits down and invites Mrs. Woodman to sit to him. "You have other children," Carter volleys. Mrs. Woodman confirms, "Yes, a daughter. I called my husband; he's coming with her." It should take a while, though, because her husband's polio makes it hard for him to drive, and it takes a while for her daughter to be loaded into the separate, hermetically sealed trailer required by her smallpox. Carter needles, "And she hasn't been immunized either." Mrs. Woodman admits, "No," and then, quickly, before a follow-up question may be posed, asks, "Is Zack going to be okay?" Carter snots, "Well, he's in grave condition, with a highly contagious disease." Mrs. Woodman snaps, "I'm not an irresponsible parent. I read all the literature on the internet, the parenting magazines, I discussed it with my pediatrician." Carter asks, "And he didn't recommend the MMR?" Mrs. Woodman, not answering the question posed, replies, "I breastfed! Zack's immune system could have been weakened by too many vaccinations!" Carter slowly informs her, "The immune system is strengthened by vaccines. Kids are exposed to foreign antigens every day." Mrs. Woodman curtly replies, "Vaccinations aren't completely safe." Carter starts to say -- as condescendingly as he possibly can -- that he doesn't want to get into a debate about it, and as he does, she shrills over him, "They aren't, and you know it! The connection between vaccinations and autism...?" Carter confidently declares, "There is no connection." Mrs. Woodman stares at him. Before she can make her case, Lisa -- also in new scrubs, just like Chen and Carter -- calls across the room that Zack's dropped his sats. Carter leaps up and follows Lisa; Mrs. Woodman follows Carter.
Okay, sidebar: there's already been some debate about the alleged connection between vaccinations and autism on the forums. I don't know anything about this issue, because I'm not a parent, and I have all my shots. But I will say that no one should base any medical decisions as great as that one on anything you read on the internet. I know that's not the only place Mrs. Woodman said she found the information that convinced her not to immunize her kids. (I also know she's only pretend.) But I see this kind of thing on the Hissyfit boards all the time: someone starts a thread in the Health and Wellness forum saying something like, "I have this hard mass in my breast and when I squeezed it, this phosphorescent green slime oozed out and some of it fell on the bathroom countertop and burned a hole straight down to the apartment downstairs. Do any of y'all know what that might be?" And then ten people will hop on with their theories until someone -- generally before I even get there, thank god -- suggests, "Um. Why not ask a doctor?" The internet is the biggest source of misinformation and quackery in the world. I also think it's ludicrous that a school -- even a pre-school that is presumably not under the purview of the public school board -- wouldn't require proof that its students had been immunized. Last fall Sars applied for graduate school at a private university; they almost didn't admit her because she had a hard time finding proof that all of her immunizations were up to date. And she's a grown-up, and presumably would be around other grown-ups who weren't so susceptible to childhood diseases. So, in conclusion, I don't really buy all of this, but I will say, again, don't believe anything you read on the internet, especially not about your or your loved one's health.
So, Lisa, Carter, and Mrs. Woodman hurry into Zack's trauma room, where he's in the process of crashing. Chen says that he's getting cyanotic. Mrs. Woodman begs for someone to translate the jargon, and Carter curtly says that the virus has done so much lung damage that no oxygen can get through to his bloodstream. She asks what they're going to do, and Carter says that they're going to intubate him. She whines, "You have to put him on a machine to breathe?" Carter snottily snaps, "If we don't intubate him right now, he's going to die." Mrs. Woodman bites her lip some more. Carter moves toward Zack's head, where Chen's got the tube in her hands and at the ready. He tells her he'll do it; she insists that she's got it. He penises, "Not on your first day back. Step out, doctor." She starts to protest, and he repeats, "Step out, doctor." Lisa says that Zack's throwing PVCs. Carter successfully intubates Zack (and it takes forever). Chen, listening with her stethoscope, reports good breath sounds bilaterally. Mrs. Woodman tries to pretend to cry. They hook Zack up to a respirator. Mrs. Woodman querulously asks, "He's okay now?" Carter, on his way out, dicks, "Yeah, sure. He's great." Carter, for the love of all that is good and pure, shut your ass the fuck up.
In the hall, Luka examines a film. Fr. Lackey, standing by, asks whether the film is of the bishop, adding, "He says he's feeling better." Luka sighs, "The oxygen and the medication," which I assume means those are what are making him feel better. Fr. Lackey asks, "So...he'll be able to perform the ordination this afternoon?" Luka has no idea what he's talking about, and Fr. Lackey explains, "That's where we were headed when he became ill in the car. One of the kids that he baptized at his first parish is being ordained as a priest today." Aw! But...d'oh, because Luka angrily snatches the film off the light box and stomps over to Bishop Cromwell, who's getting dressed. Luka demands, "Where are you going?" Bishop Cromwell breezily says that he's feeling much better. Luka spits some numbers at him, but they must mean as little to Bishop Cromwell as they do to me, because he asks, "Is that good?" Luka snaps, "No, it's not good! It's an indication of active lupus!" Bishop Cromwell has no response to that, so Luka stomps in front of him and yells, "Stop buttoning that damn shirt!" Bishop Cromwell asks, "Is Joe still outside? I think I'm going to need some help getting into these pants." Damn, if only Luka were the one uttering that line. Only with "out of" in place of "into." And with "Wing Chun" in place of "Joe." Luka insists, "You need to be admitted to the ICU for IV Cytoxan." Bishop Cromwell bargains, "It'll only take me a couple of hours." Luka impatiently tells him, "If the inflammation in your lungs continues, you won't get enough oxygen to stay alive!" Bishop Cromwell cheerfully promises, "If I skip the reception, I can be back in here by six." Luka hisses, "You'll be dead by six!" Bishop Cromwell blinks, and then smiles, "It's in God's hands." "God could give a damn," snaps Luka, and then takes a step backward, apparently feeling the import of his words now that they're out of his mouth, and wishing he could take them back. Bishop Cromwell looks down, and then sadly looks back up at Luka. Luka continues fuming, and even seems to be panting a little at the exertion this conversation requires. After another moment, Bishop Cromwell asks, "Is there something I should sign, so I can go?"
By the elevator, Mitchell is having an animated conversation with a woman who's clearly an old friend; the old friend is played by Megan Follows, a Canadian actor whose most famous role is still Anne Shirley in Kevin Sullivan's mini-series adaptations of the Anne of Green Gables books. Also, she must have a new agent, because she was on this week's episode of The X-Files, too. Anyway, the elevator doors open and Weaver steps out, right into the middle of this fond and somewhat intimate conversation. As they laugh, Weaver looks slightly jealous. Mitchell sees that it's Weaver coming off the elevator and exclaims, "Hey! We were just looking for you." Mitchell introduces Anne, and explains that she and Anne were just having coffee. Anne adds that she insisted that Mitchell bring her down: "I'm sorry, but a bunch of us were beginning to question your existence!" Weaver looks supremely unsettled, perhaps because she's just noticed that she and Anne have the same short/long haircut, and that, without realizing it, she's had lesbian hair all along. Mitchell tells Weaver, "We were all thinking about getting together for dinner tonight. You game?" Weaver demurs that she can't get off in time for dinner, but that she appreciates the invitation. Mitchell tells her that she already checked Weaver's schedule and knows that she gets off at six. Um. You checked her schedule? Codependent much? Anne (as Dr. Dave rolls up behind her) says, "Don't worry -- nobody bites." [Insert your own off-colour joke here.] Dr. Dave -- clearly not knowing or caring exactly what's going on -- asks Weaver to sign off on his chart. The elevator doors open and Mitchell and Anne get in, confirming that they'll see Weaver at 7:30. Okay, I know Anne is supposed to be a lesbian, but, dude, that was one dowdy suit she had on. The woman's thirty at the most; don't dress her like Janet Reno. Weaver inspects Dr. Dave's chart, mutters to Weaver, "Is that Legaspi's girlfriend? I heard she's gay." Weaver says that she doesn't know. Dr. Dave adds, "What I wouldn't pay to drop in on that little party, huh?" and takes off. Weaver watches him go, looking pensive. Weaver, please don't put any stock in anything Dr. Dave has to say; you certainly never have before.
As Weaver continues staring off into space, Mark stomps up to her, gets in her face, and yells, "You turned me in? There's a guy from the medical board here questioning my competency?" She starts crutching off, and Mark snaps, "Don't walk away from me!" Weaver snaps, "I'm not walking away -- I don't want to have this conversation in the middle of the lobby." Mark whines, "He wants to see my medical records! He's planning on interviewing the staff to see if I'm still fit to practise medicine!" Weaver mutters, "Oh, don't be so melodramatic." Weaver? Fucking word. Mark hisses, "He can pull my medical license." They arrive at the desk, and Weaver stops, murmuring, "Look, I've been concerned about the changes in your personality since the surgery. I've tried to talk to you about it but you've chosen to ignore me." True, and true. Mark bellows, "So you call in the licensing board?!" "Keep your voice down!" she warns him, as Frank strolls by, giving them both the hairy eyeball. Mark, leaning in to try to intimidate her physically -- like all penis-y men are wont to do -- murmurs, "They cut a tumour out of my head, Kerry. I'm sorry if I seem a little different to you. I wouldn't come back to work if I couldn't do the job!" "What about the aphasia?" Weaver asks. Mark lies, "It's getting better!" If you ask me, it's definitely getting worse. The first week he was back, when all he was doing was mixing up his pronouns, I thought that was really no big deal. But when you're a doctor and you can't think of the word "hepatitis," that's worse. Which is pretty much what Weaver says: "And if you were in an emergency situation and you couldn't think of the name of the drug you wanted? Or do the nurses go out to play twenty questions while the patient dies?" "Nobody's dying!" Mark yells. Weaver, getting shrill: "You have been insensitive and argumentative!" "I have not been argumentative!" Mark ironics. Weaver replies, "You have been shooting from the hip, and I am not the only one who's expressed concern." Mark starts slowly walking away, and Weaver follows, explaining, "For the safety of the patients, I felt I had to call the board for an objective assessment. I want you to pass so that we can all get back to work confident in your abilities! Okay?" Mark looks skeptical.
Carter heads out to the ambulance bay with Finch, who's saying, "Rich people think that if all the poor kids are immunized, then they don't have to be." Um. What? That is not what happened in this situation at all, so save it; your straw man is blocking the rig. Carter, as a rich person, tries to change the subject to the weather, noting that he thought it had stopped snowing. Finch continues PSA-ing, "If everybody stops getting vaccines, then smallpox'll be back, polio...measles. Then they'll be lined up around the block begging us to stick a needle in their precious little Annie's arm." Finch? Shut up. Pam gives the bullet on a man with non-Hodgkins lymphoma. He was throwing up and continued doing so despite Compazine; he's now very dehydrated. Carter helps the patient's wife out of the rig and examines the patient's face. Mrs. Non-Hodgkins says, "He only finished the chemotherapy last week. Is the cancer back?" Carter says he's probably just having a reaction to the chemo. As Carter, Finch, and Pam steer the bed toward the hospital doors, Pam asks, "Hey, how'd that little boy do?" Carter asks which boy she means, and she describes Zack. Carter demands, "You brought him in?" Pam says she did. Carter says, "Uh oh." Finch asks Pam, "They didn't call you?" Pam says no, and asks what the problem is. Finch tells Pam about Zack's measles, and then passive-aggresses, "You transported an immunorepressed patient in the same rig?" Mrs. Non-Hodgkins asks what that means. Pam insists that nobody told her.
As they all head in, Bishop Cromwell heads out, assisted by Fr. Lackey. The snow falls. Bishop Cromwell looks resigned, and a little nervous. A woman's voice coos on the soundtrack.
Inside, Luka watches as Fr. Lackey helps Bishop Cromwell into the car, and then stares off into space real hard.
Two segments in four hours. At least Sars and Djb are behind schedule. Okay -- spooky time: as soon as I had finished typing that, the phone rang, and it was Djb saying they were approaching the border. I can conjure them with my mind!
Benton walks into a large room full of filing cabinets. He tells the clerk that he needs to review a file. She's played by Rebecca DeMornay. No, not that one -- the one from Seinfeld, who refused Elaine's charitable gift of muffin stumps, and George's gift of an art book he'd read in the bathroom at a bookstore. Anyway, she directs him to the drawer, and asks about his position as Director of Diversity: "That position's a little quixotic around here these days. My David wouldn't be working for Morgan Stanley without Affirmative Action." She locates William White's file and hands it to him. As Benton inspects it, he asks her to direct him to an application by someone who was accepted, so that he may compare them. She points him in the right direction, and when he gets there, he apparently gets curious about his own application, and goes for a peek. Naughty.
From above, we see Lisa wander out into the snowy ambulance bay, crossing her arms over her chest for warmth. She spots Luka and goes toward him, asking, "What are you doing out here?" Except the caption says, "Have you eaten?" He says he's just getting some air, but the caption says, "I'm not hungry." She asks, "What's the matter? How's your bishop?" (and, from here on, the dialogue and the captions match). Luka says that Bishop Cromwell just left. She says, "That's good, right?" Luka says, "He's having an acute lupus flare. He left A.M.A." Lisa suggests, "So, go get him." Luka glances at her, and she adds, "Take some oxygen. Make sure he's okay." A bit hesitantly, Luka says, "He knew what he was doing. I'm not his keeper." They both watch the snow. Gee, I wonder what he'll do. Except I don't.
Finch shows up in Benton's office with a bottle of water and a couple of packaged sandwiches. She chaffs him about his office, and then, looking through the window, asks what's out there; he tells her it's his view into the cafeteria kitchen. She tells him about Zack, and then notices the med-school applications spread all over his desk and asks what he's doing; she spots his own file and asks what's up. Benton fills her in on William White, and says that he got curious and looked for his own file: "My file wasn't with the rest. It was in the back with three others, filed under 'A.A.' Affirmative Action." Finch emotionlessly asks, "That surprise you?" Benton defensively says, "Hell, yeah! My grades were good, my MCATs were competitive....[sighs] Yeah, but, when I compared it to the other applicants that were accepted that year, I shouldn't have even gotten in." Finch sets down his file and says, "You're an excellent physician, Peter. They were right to let you in." Benton, handing her a file, asks, "Oh, yeah? This is the file of the kid that didn't even get an interview this year -- William White. His grades, his MCAT scores -- they're better than mine were." Finch looks blank. That surprise you?
Church exterior. Luka walks up carrying a couple of medical bags -- newfangled ones that look like gym bags. The woman's voice is still cooing.
Inside, he sees parishioners getting into the pews; mass hasn't started yet. Luka wends his way down the side aisle and is pointed presumably toward Bishop Cromwell (the scene is silent but for the music, you see).
Luka taps on the door of a vestry and then enters, seeing Bishop Cromwell crumpled in a chair, looking pretty ravaged. Luka rushes toward him, hissing, "Dammit!" Bishop Cromwell weakly insists, "I'm okay!" Luka puts an oxygen tube in his nose and asks how long he's been having trouble breathing. Bishop Cromwell lies, "I'm...just...gathering my strength." Luka tells Bishop Cromwell that he has to go to the hospital. Bishop Cromwell murmurs, "It's pretty...isn't it. The snow? So much beauty. Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it, like my heart's going to cave in." Except, not the last part. Luka urgently asks for the phone, so that he can call an ambulance. Bishop Cromwell asks him not to: "I only need a minute." Luka insists, "You're dying!" "Evidently," Bishop Cromwell says quietly. Luka has no response to what amounts to "duh," so he shuts up. Bishop Cromwell monologues:
As I was sitting here, I was reminded of the night I chose to become a priest. I'd been struggling with it for a long time -- several years. Anyway, that night, I couldn't sleep, so I got up and went out for a walk in the woods, behind my father's house. It was snowing, like it is now. I don't have any idea how long I walked, but at a certain point, I suddenly realized I didn't know which way to go! I'd gotten lost. I was frightened. As I looked up into that dark night, He came to me. I saw all those millions of snowflakes drifting down toward me. So still. So peaceful! Perfect. And I was filled with the love of our Lord Jesus Christ, like pouring wine into an empty glass. I'm afraid I may have wasted my life. For some reason I never accomplished the things I should've -- what God wanted of me. And now I'm frightened...[starts to cry] I'm afraid of dying. There. I said it. I am afraid to die.
My dad was a Jesuit; he was about to be ordained when he met my mom and decided to marry her instead. I just realized, reading the above, that I've never asked him under what circumstances he received his vocation to enter the priesthood. I probably should do that; now I'm curious. Luka responds to this close-up view of Bishop Cromwell's soul by repeating, "You have to go to the hospital," but with a lot less conviction than before. Bishop Cromwell starts to recite the twenty-third psalm (you know, "The Lord is my shepherd") when Fr. Lackey approaches, gowned for mass, and asks, "Is he all right?" Simultaneously, Bishop Cromwell says, "Yes," and Luka says, "No." Fr. Lackey says, "The procession is forming. What should I tell them?" Luka watches Bishop Cromwell, who, after a long pause, says, "Tell them I think I have to skip the processional." Luka holds back tears of his own.
The choir is starting its chants as Bishop Cromwell asks Luka, "When did you lose your faith?" The camera pans down to Bishop Cromwell, wearing his miter and everything, as he adds, "I've found with most people, it comes and goes, like intimacy in a relationship. Sometimes it's so strong -- a passion, rapture! And then, at other times, it's impossible -- distant. Lost. But that's not God. That's us. We put up our own barriers, with our egos, and our pain. He's always there, no matter what." The organ starts playing "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring," and Bishop Cromwell lights up: "Bach. I love Bach." They've come out of the shadows of the sacristy and are illuminated by the light from the nave. (Basically, they're backstage, behind the altar, Bishop Cromwell having skipped the processional.) Bishop Cromwell lets go Luka's shoulder and strides out onto the chancel, taking his place at the altar and leaning down to kiss it.
Three segments. Five hours. I'm speeding up! I even went and tidied the house up in the middle of that last segment so that Glark's socks weren't all over the front hall when Sars and Djb get here.
Back at County, Romano, Benton, and Janet "Amy Aquino" Coburn seem to be deep into the interview process; I say "deep" because they all look wicked bored. Benton asks the applicant, "Why do you want to be a doctor?" What follows is a montage of the applicants all answering, we may presume, the same question, or at least some version of it:
- "I've given that question a great deal of thought, and I think it all boils down to one thing: I really want to help people."
- "My dad died of lung cancer, and I was twelve, and I vowed I would work for a cure."
- "My research in molecular biology has been very rewarding."
- "I expect we'll see gene therapy in our lifetime."
- "I'm a people person."
- "The bottom line is, I really want to help people."
- "I volunteered for the Pediatrics ward -- I'm very empathetic."
- "When I saw my kitty suffering like that, I knew that I had a calling..."
- "...to help people in their time of need..."
- "...and I think you have to combine humanistic skills..."
- "...with a passion for making a difference."
- "And I -- I really just want to help people."
- "I just want to help people."
- "I want to help people."
- "[long pause] Help people."
The committee looks nonplussed. Well, they want to be doctors, not creative writers. Give them a break!
Elizabeth -- in her scrubs and cap and with a gown trailing after her like a train of self-righteousness -- storms over to Weaver and bellows, "How could you?! Dammit, Kerry! They sawed off half his skull, then they inserted high doses of chemotherapy wafers into the empty cavity!" Over this last sentence, Weaver dryly says, "Hello, Elizabeth, how are you." Elizabeth doesn't even stop to take a breath: "It caused temporary swelling right to Broca's -- of course he had a little aphasia! But that was six weeks ago. The swelling's gone down and he's back to normal." Throughout this last bit, Weaver's been crutching toward the desk with Elizabeth stomping alongside her, haranguing her every step of the way. When they reach the desk and Weaver has still made no answer, Elizabeth adds, "If anything, I find his honesty rather refreshing. We could all do with a little more candour around here!" Weaver -- very gently, considering Elizabeth's totally inappropriate hissyfit -- replies, "Candidly speaking, then, are you sure that you can be objective about this?" In a strangled, hysterical voice, Elizabeth shrieks, "Of course I'm not objective! Look, I've been with him every moment, and I can tell you he's making remarkable progress, and is no danger to anyone -- except [getting in Weaver's face], perhaps, easily threatened minor demigods!" Okay, Elizabeth. The line you've crossed is so far behind you that it's invisible to your naked eye. I know you're mad, but this is not your fight, and this is not your business, and also? Shut the fuck up. Mitchell has quietly appeared and is on the other side of the desk as the conversation continues. Weaver quietly says, "He may be endangering patients. I'm not unsympathetic to his circumstances, but I have larger responsibilities." And she doesn't add -- as she certainly might -- that she is not making any judgment, here. She could have just gone to Romano and asked him to require Mark to go on medical leave -- or suspended him for his stunt with the patient the paramedics brought in last week -- but she didn't; she appealed to an authority higher than hers -- and one that is utterly objective and certainly would have no vested interest in diminishing the number of competent physicians working in public hospitals -- to do no more (as I understand it) than give Mark a test, so that if he passes, Weaver will have no legal recourse to get rid of him, and if he fails, it's all the proof anyone should need that Mark needs to take some time off while his aphasia heals, if it is, indeed, temporary. And if Elizabeth can't even see the argument that a language challenge puts Mark's patients in danger -- if her paramount concern right now is Mark's pride -- then she is just about the shittiest doctor this hospital has ever seen -- and that is saying something. Maybe if Weaver had said even some of that to Elizabeth, she wouldn't be so quick to spit the following drama-queeny conclusion: "It's despicable. And you should be ashamed of yourself. I hope that you end up with a possibly fatal illness one day, Kerry, so that I can do absolutely nothing to help you." Ah -- the line any of the five remaining Elizabeth fans needed to hear in order to convince them of how hard she sucks now. Elizabeth? SHUT! UP! MY GOD! Weaver watches her go, looking like she just had the wind knocked out of her. Mitchell comes around the corner and asks, "What was that about?" Weaver mutters, by way of response, "Some days, I really hate this job." Mitchell agrees, "Well, you, me, and everyone else around here. Are you ready?" Weaver looks at her blankly, and Mitchell reminds her, "Dinner?" Weaver says she's almost ready. She hands a chart to Carter and reminds him that he still has a leg laceration to suture. Carter distractedly assents. "Get there by Easter, would you please?" she snarls. Carter's all, yeah, yeah.
We leave Weaver, and the camera starts following Carter, as he eats an apple and takes a cursory look at the chart in his hands. He rounds a corner, finds a film on a light box, and asks Malik if it's Zack's, which it is. Malik offers to take it up to the PICU, and Carter says he'll do it.
Also, Sars and Djb just got here. They're downstairs watching the Bring it On DVD while I try to finish this up.
So...people die. The End.
Just kidding.
Admission committee. The three confer on the applicants. They sum up by agreeing to recommend two to the full committee, and to reject fourteen. As Romano and Dr. Aquino prepare to leave, Benton says that he has one more applicant he'd like to consider. Long story short -- because we all see where this is going, anyway -- he says it's William White, and that they didn't interview him that day. Dr. Aquino asks where William went to school, and Benton says, "The University of Illinois-Chicago." Romano sniffs, "My gardener could have gotten a three-eight at the U of I, and he had his head run over by an ice-cream truck as a kid." Benton quietly says, "I went to the University of Illinois." Dr. Aquino says that William's MCATs -- in the ninety-first percentile -- are well below their admission standard. Benton argues, "MCATs don't predict how good a doctor you'll be -- just what you'll do the first two years of med school. This kid is bright, he's dedicated, he's --" "He's black," Romano finishes. "Yeah, he's black," Benton agrees. "Affirmative Action's against the law, Peter," says Romano. Benton notes that they didn't interview one black or Latino applicant that day (though there were about six Asian students among the ones we saw). Romano shoots back, "We have a colourblind admissions policy. If he was good enough to get in, he would have been here." Benton PSAs that minority students don't have the same access to academic opportunities. Romano snaps, "And, what? You want to address that by advancing underqualified applicants at the expense of our integrity, and theirs?" Benton leans forward and says, "I want him to have an interview." I think William's going to get one.
Ordination ceremony. The camera starts in front of Bishop Cromwell's face and rises upward. The congregation sings the Litany of the Saints. We see the priest lying prone at the bishop's feet, his arms stretched out in the traditional crucifixion pose.
With the litany still being performed on the soundtrack, Carter comes into Zack's room just in time for him to die. Carter looks back at Mr. and Mrs. Woodman, biting back tears.
Luka crouches in the sacristy as the litany continues. Suddenly there's a flash to Luka, standing alone, with snow swirling around him. Cut back to present-day Luka, and then another flash -- with an accompanying sound effect like a bomb finding its target -- to three pine coffins, one big and two small. Each has a crucifix on it; the smallest of the three has a teddy bear on it, and the middle coffin, a rag doll. Cut back to present Luka, and then back to the middle coffin, and its rag doll. Now we can also hear a mass being performed in Croatian, and we can hear that the litany in the Chicago church has morphed into the traditional "Anvil Chorus." Just in case we didn't get it. BUT WE GET IT.
Lesbian dinner. We see it from the street, through the restaurant window. Anne is saying, "Vicki is dating guys now, and Carol is getting married to one!" Mitchell gasps, and then explains, presumably to Weaver, "Both of these women marched in every gay-pride parade for the past fifteen years!" The fourth woman -- identified as "Kate" by the captions -- says, "I don't get it." Anne snorts, "I do! You get society's blessing, your family's...." "...survivor benefits, tax breaks," Mitchell adds. "And all you have to do is lay there a few times a week," Anne concludes. The three women who aren't Weaver burst into raucous laughter; Mitchell's laugh is particularly shrill and piercing. What's up with that? Weaver stiffly sits in silence. Mitchell notices her discomfort and puts a hand on her arm, apologizing, "I'm sorry -- we're not usually this bad." Weaver flaps her hands and says, "Oh, it's okay." Anne muses, "Hey! Do you realize that everyone at this table has slept with Kim?" "Oh my god!" Kate marvels. Mitchell chuckles, "Cut it out, you guys!" Anne tells Weaver, "I bet she brought a U-Haul on your second date, right?" Kate giggles. Weaver says, "I don't understand." I didn't either; Sars -- though not a lesbian (not that there's anything wrong with that) said she figured it referred to the propensity of lesbians to move in with each other relatively quickly, and I'll go with that since it seems to make sense. I was trying to think what possible sexual connotations there could be that I wasn't getting, especially after Mitchell tells Weaver, "It's a lesbian joke. A bad one," she pointedly adds, to Anne. Mitchell asks Weaver whether she wants a drink, but Weaver gets up, hoarsely saying that she has to go -- she has an early shift the day. She tells Kate and Anne that it was nice to meet them both. Anne nods appraisingly. Weaver hurries out.
On the street, Mitchell catches up with her and asks, "Are you upset?" Weaver, without turning back, says she's not. Mitchell asks why, then, she's leaving, and Weaver, her voice breaking, says, "I don't belong here! I don't belong here!" Mitchell, reaching out supplicating arms, explains, "I dated [Anne] in college; Kate and I dated for maybe a month ten years ago!" Weaver, her voice quavering even more, says, "It's not that! This isn't me! I mean, my experience. The jokes. Your friends. I care about you -- I'm not interested in adopting a lifestyle." Duuuuuuude. Okay, I don't want to be all Lesbian Avenger, here, but you were interested in eating some pussy -- or at least in watching Mitchell as she dried her hair and putting your shit in her closet (as it were) -- so maybe you should think about that before you make these assumptions about what Mitchell or anyone expects of you in terms of a "lifestyle." That's such an offensive word! Which is pretty much what Mitchell says: "Wow, I can't believe you just said that." Weaver says, "I'll call you later," and gets into a cab; Mitchell fails to call after her, "Please don't, until you can deal with your shit." In the car, Weaver tells the cabbie, "Just drive." I hate to say this about Weaver, but...bitch.
Church. Luka cradles his head in his hand. Fr. Lackey runs out and tells him that he was helping Bishop Cromwell to get undressed when he collapsed. Luka rolls him over, puts his ear to Bishop Cromwell's mouth, and rubs his chest, telling Fr. Lackey to call 911 and tell them they have a man with possible respiratory arrest.
Elizabeth arrives at Valium Villa, which is dark. She flicks on the light and screeches Mark's name a few times. She finally finds him in what appears to be their bedroom, dully staring ahead. She sits down to him on the bed and asks what happened. Mark replies, "He recommended formal competency testing." Elizabeth sighs loudly as Mark continues, "Psychiatrist, neuropsychologist, MRI, personality test -- it's going to take five days." Elizabeth sighs again, and hugs him, saying, "I'm so sorry." "The good times just keep comin'," Mark mutters. Okay, but, the thing is? If you fail these tests, you shouldn't be a doctor -- and that would suck for you, but -- as I have been saying all along throughout this stupid storyline -- people's lives are at stake, and your ego should take a back seat to that fact, and to their lives! If you really are confident that you are competent to treat patients, you should relish this opportunity to prove Weaver wrong and stick it to her! And if you're not, you should take that as all the evidence you really need that you should take. Some. Time. OFF. GOD. Sorry, but I refuse to feel sorry for him.
Snowy tree branches. Luka staring up at snowy tree branches. Lisa finds him staring and asks what he's doing. Luka explains (sort of), "I couldn't find a forest." She actually says, "Huh?" but Luka has no further response to give her, and smiles up as the snow falls on his face. Lisa exposits that Luka brought Bishop Cromwell back, and asks how he's doing. "He's dying," Luka tells her. Lisa suggests, "He might surprise you. We get enough miracles around here -- why not one more?" Luka says nothing, and Lisa finally says, "I'm freezing! You ready to go home?" He says he is. She turns to go, and then turns back expectantly; he wraps his arm around her and they head home.