Start All Over Again

S08E05

Previously, Susan Lewis showed up at County General and sent Elizabeth into a jealous fit because Mark didn't mention a lunch date with his former crush. Carter won the Chief Resident job because Chen resigned. Benton needed someone to pick up Reese, but Jackie ignored his call and forced him to bring in Roger. The Ponytail PI found Weaver's birth mother. Elizabeth's breasts leaked milk during surgery. Rachel will be staying with Mark and Elizabeth. Finally, Mark hired Susan as the new ER Attending.

We fade up on Dr. Kerry "Maybe Brunettes Have More Lesbian Fun" Weaver, whose new hair color glints under fluorescent lights. Does anyone remember when Laura Innes was on Wings, and she played Lowell's unfaithful Southern wife Bunny? They used to put her in tight country-girl dresses. It was like a whole different career. Here, Weaver is on the phone with someone and is leaving a message. It's "nothing serious," but she has "some personal info for [her]." It's probably her birth mother. Dr. Susan "I Pull In Twenty-Five Million Viewers" Lewis enters the lounge to report for her first day back at County General. "All set?" Weaver asks pleasantly. Susan gripes good-naturedly about congestion on the El and asks Weaver for a locker. "Sure, fourth to the right," Weaver responds absently. Susan approaches it and hesitates momentarily when she sees the "Chen" name tag lingering there. "I'll have them take the name off," Weaver adds. Susan jiggles the door, trying in vain to open it. I'm not sure why Weaver didn't give her Malucci's locker. It's probably just more fun to bring up Chen's name and let Weaver glower for the camera.

When Susan emerges and heads for the front desk, Malik crows, "I heard it, but I didn't believe it!" Running toward her, Malik sweeps Susan off her feet in a huge bear hug. "We missed you!" he cheers. Haleh beams and kids that she can't believe someone talked her into returning. I can't believe it was so unbelievably easy. Mark handed her a grimy, moldy old lab coat and tried to turn her return into a personal favor, and Susan folded faster than a cheap folding table that graduated summa cum laude from Fold College with a major in Free-Form Fast Folding and a minor in Abnormal Psych. Haleh tells Frank that someone took a shit in Exam Two. "Ah, Frank, our mad crapper's back!" Malik chortles. I feel like this belongs in theUndeclaredforums. Frank grouses that if he catches the mad crapper, "he'll be pooping in a bag." Susan, meanwhile, has been quietly absorbing all of this, looking around with the eye of an employee, not a visitor. "What happened to the board?" she asks, looking at the transparent surface that lives where the whiteboard once did. She probably should have noticed that last week, since she waited for Mark for ages and even STOOD IN FRONT OF IT for fifteen minutes. ["Maybe she got distracted by the flasher." -- Wing Chun] But this is just an excuse for Haleh to grumble that Weaver changed the board, despite the fact that it's really a very good idea because passing, hurried staffers can read it from either side. Plus, the camerapeople really like shooting through it.

By Heathen

Chuny chirps that Spanky is behind curtain three, complaining of incontinence. "I'm not touching him," she insists. Susan offers to, but Haleh waves her off. "You don't want that on your first day," she assures Susan, instead handing her a leg injury behind Curtain One. Curious, Susan asks what the deal is with Spanky. "He likes the nurses a lot," Haleh says. Ew! Shouldn't he be arrested for that? Or does that only hold true if you're Pee-wee Herman?

Susan runs into Dr. Cleo "Has Anyone Seen Me Lately?" Finch, who worked the night shift and has a few patients to pass along to Susan. Cleo drones on about spinal taps and head CTs, but we don't want her feeling too comfortable with her part on the show, so Dr. Peter "Five Down, Too Many to Go" Benton arrives and interrupts them. "Well, well, well, Dr. Susan Lewis," he smiles. Susan greets him with a wry smile. "Just when I thought it was safe to come back to the ER," Benton jokes. "I missed you, too," snarks Susan. Wow, just in case we didn't get that we should've missed her, the writers are giving her cute scenes with all the male doctors so that all the other women look unworthy. While Susan checks a chart, she hears Peter offer to escort someone to breakfast; misunderstanding, she refuses the offer, only to bite her lip with the realization that he was macking on Cleo. Susan's expression totally belongs in ninth grade. It's an "Peter and Cleo, sittin' in a tree..." type of look. Cleo can't go with Benton, though, because she's due in Schaumburg. Peter is surprised that she's got another interview, but we learn the job belongs to Cleo and they're just hammering out details. She exposits for Susan's benefit that a pediatric urgent-care facility in Schaumburg offered her the chance to run it. "Five doctors, eight-hour shifts, no overnights," she grins, dreamily. Peter, as he walks away, loudly objects to its location. Rolling her eyes and moving Susan along, Cleo informs us Schaumburg is forty minutes away. Yeah, but people do that commute all the time -- Motorola is based there, and I guarantee you all its employees aren't living out in Schaumburg when they could live in the Chicagoland area. But with Peter, perhaps a ninety-minute round-trip is all it takes to quell his libido. Cleo finally tells Susan that she needs to drain the abscess on an IV drug user, and treat a homeless lady with maggots. Susan looks totally thrilled. She loves maggots. They're especially great with Worcestershire sauce.

A kettle shrieks, begging for the ASPCK to intervene and liberate it from the kitchen of Dr. Mark "Mold Is Also" Greene and Dr. Elizabeth "Sideshow Bob's Hair Strikes Again" Corday. Elizabeth bellows for Mark to take care of the kettle, but he's frantically trying to find his notes on vertigo for some presentation no one will attend. Rachel darts into the busy kitchen and grabs the ringing telephone. Mark, Ella hanging from his shirt, won't leave until he finds his notes, so Elizabeth silently prays that they appear on the table by magic. Rachel chirps that she wants to go to a party for her friend Claire's birthday. Mark worries that it's a school night, but Rachel promises it's just a dinnertime function; Mark agrees, on the condition that he can speak with Claire's mother. So summer is apparently over already, in the span of two weeks, and Rachel's enrolled in school and has friends. Because it's that easy. "Mark, I have an eight o'clock thyroidectomy!" Elizabeth screeches. While Mark talks to the Claire's mother, Elizabeth embarks upon her weekly feigning of interest in Rachel. We learn that Claire and Rachel take an Art class together, in which they sculpt things. Mark hangs up and tells Rachel that she must call him after dinner so that he can collect her from Claire's house. The doorbell rings, and Mark thinks it's Katherine, who I can only assume is the nanny. But when Mark flings open the door, he sees only a tall, dopey-looking kid who's there to pick up Rachel. "Dad, this is Andrew; he's giving me a ride to school," Rachel says flippantly, dashing out the door. Dazed, Mark shakes Andrew's hand, amazed at his own astonishing unimportance. Rachel hands him the vertigo notes, which she found in the dining room, and tries to leave. "Oh, sorry, I forgot -- Andrew has the car while his dad's out of town," Rachel says by way of explanation. Mark is startled that Rachel has friends with licenses, and Andrew dorkily points out that he hasn't had an accident yet. They leave, Rachel calling out that this is great because now Mark and Elizabeth won't be late for work. Mark is floored by all of this. Ella dangles precariously from his arms, begging for attention and getting nothing. Elizabeth strolls up behind Mark and arches an eyebrow. "Guess she's making friends," she notes.

Credits. For the record, Ming-Na is still in there. Sherry Stringfield is jammed in the middle somewhere, a place unbecoming of the way they heralded her return.

A man in glasses whines, "I don't like taking my clothes off." Word. He's got a stomach ailment driving him crazy and is convinced something inside him is bleeding, but Susan won't examine him until he dons a gown. "Could it be a complication of my surgery?" the man asks. "I don't know, my x-ray vision isn't working," Susan says pointedly. He thinks she's mocking him, which she pretty much is, despite protestations to the contrary. Susan insists that she just needs him to disrobe so that she can complete a thorough examination. "You just want to see me naked!" he screams, demanding a straight male doctor.

Susan leaves the exam room, frustrated but amused, and runs into Mark. "First day of school, and you're already making friends?" jokes Mark. "Yeah, I'm a shoo-in for homecoming queen," grouses Susan. Heh. She is, based on the way she's written -- which is as though she's the only female TPTB want us to like. Mark giggles at the list of patients she's treated -- "a foul abscess, a neurotic granny, Naked Boy here, and I had to break into Chen's locker." Mark asks what Susan wants to use as maggot treatment; Susan picks cetacaine, but Mark serves up a shit-eating grin and cackles that Weaver is immune to it, so they don't stock it. Susan grouses that Mark is having way too much fun with all this. "Colonel Dixon's Magical Maggot Mix," Mark says to a disbelieving Susan. "Seriously! You paint it on with milk." Boy oh boy, Susan, things sure have changed 'round these here parts.

As if he smelled the winds of change blowing, Carter swaggers past with two med students in tow. He's clearly enjoying this authority. Susan smirks at it. "Welcome," Mark says, walking away. "Don't kill anyone!" Yeah, follow your own advice, too, Mark. He introduces Susan as the possessor of a wealth of knowledge, but as someone who isn't oriented yet because it's her first day back after a five-year sabbatical. "Post-traumatic stress," she explains. Carter dispatches the students to the waiting area, where they'll be filling out paperwork, and snags himself a few seconds alone with Susan. He offers her a tour, but she declines good-naturedly, fairly sure she'll muddle through successfully. She teases Carter about babysitting the neophytes -- that managing students is the burden of a Chief Resident. It's cute, because she's genuinely tickled for him. Spotting Abby, Susan derails. "Nurse, nurse!" she calls. Abby turns, startled. "Are you talking to me?" she asks, dumbfounded. Frankly, it was rather rude of Susan. A simple "excuse me" might have sufficed, or she could've asked Carter to supply Abby's name before she called out to her. Abby is carrying a tall load of supplies to be stored, resting her chin on the top of the stack. Susan does apologize for not already knowing Abby's name, but the damage has been done and Abby's prickles are erect. I should delete that last bit, I suppose, on account of its inappropriate imagery, but oh well. Screw it. Carter introduces them hurriedly. "Susan used to work here," he says. "That's the rumor," Abby retorts dryly. Susan asks Abby to set her up for suturing in exam room three. "Set you up?" Abby blinks. "Open a kit, some 4-0 nylon, #7 gloves, betadine," Susan lists, as though Abby should bloody well know this already. Abby turns away. "It's all in the room," she says, leaving. Again, Carter probably could have explained how things have changed at the hospital, but instead he lets the situation end awkwardly.

Abby is about to attend to a man with chest pains, so Carter calls med student Mooney over to help; simultaneously, Doris calls out to Susan, who dashes to the incoming gurney. "Love your hair!" lies Doris, who recognizes Susan from The Good Old Days. They're all smiles. "My brother could be dying here!" protests a man following them, dismayed that such idle chatter has supplanted medical jargon. Personally, I prefer it. The other day I used "thrombolytics" in a sentence and had to force myself to shut up for an hour just as punishment.

Susan wheels the man into a trauma room and announces that he isn't responding to Narcan. The brother swears that the two of them were just talking when it all happened. He's not aware of any medications in his brother's system. Stanley -- one of the med students -- hovers over Haleh's shoulder and watches as his guru conducts an examination. Carter probably isn't averse to impressing Susan at the same time, since he's all grown up now. He rattles off a series of words like "disconjugate" and "deviation," which, put together, rule out a structural lesion. To what, I don't know. Susan orders chem panels and tox screens and a head CT. She tells the brother it's too soon to know whether the patient had a stroke. I'll call these brothers Little and Large -- Large is the patient. Carter jargons that the abrupt onset of this coma-like condition suggests a seizure or even cardiopulmonary anoxia. He's pretty sure this last one will make Susan's heart flutter. Haleh can't believe the junk she's hearing, and is totally aware of Stanley's presence behind her, all of which contributes to a pretty hilarious facial expression of disbelief commingled with even more disbelief. "Don't let him die," Little orders Susan. "No tremors, asterixis, or myoclonus suggestive of metabolic encephalopothy," Carter multi-syllables. This last combination of words actually ripped off Susan's bra and wrapped it around Carter's neck. "I'm trying to listen," she says, leaning toward Carter and fighting for position near Large. Haleh offers to fetch a portable chest. "Ask Professor Carter," smirks Susan.

While Abby supportively stands nearby, Mooney haltingly asks Mr. Stegman -- okay, I cheated and peeked ahead to get his name -- about his abdominal and chest pains. They're all the questions that a soulless form would suggest that one ask. "How would you describe the pain?...Stabbing, burning, or tearing?" Stegman can't believe that there's a damn difference. I'm not sure I wanted to know that all those kinds of abdominal pain exist. Abby snaps on some gloves, and Mooney grabs a vial of nitro spray and tells Stegman to open up for a dose of medicine under the tongue. He administers three quick sprays. Abby is shocked. "Nitro times three," protests Mooney. "At once?" Abby gapes. Stegman's monitor bleeps his health away. "I don't feel so good," he underplays. Abby reclines him and promises to counter his dizziness with a kicked-up flow of oxygen. His pressure is 80 over 60. "Is that bad?" frets a panting Stegman. Abby tries to soothe him, swearing that he didn't get the wrong medicine and that this reaction just happens sometimes. Subtly turning around for confirmation of the kid's name, Abby plasters a comforting smile on her face and insists that Dr. Mooney is one of the hospital's finest. And he is -- if you're judging a mullet contest. He's cultivating a doozy. "I'll go write my note," he stammers, backing out of the room. "You do that," Abby says, still trying to stabilize Stegman.

"Neuroleptic malignant syndrome?" Susan asks Carter, snickering. They're outside Large's trauma room, and she teases him about the orifice from which he might've yanked that one. "Photographic memory," Carter says smugly. "Oh, and I delivered a lecture on coma last week." Susan shakes her head. "Ridiculous," she says softly. Carter doesn't get what she means. "Time," Susan clarifies. "Yesterday it seems you couldn't start an IV." Carter puffs up and insists, "Oh, it was longer than yesterday," but he says it like he's trying to convince his childhood babysitter that they can have an affair and it won't be gross. "Carter?" Abby interrupts. "That kid Mooney saw my patient...What did you tell him about nitro?" Carter shrugs that he gave them the basics -- three sprays. "Three sprays, that's right, ba-bam-bam," Abby snaps. Carter is shocked that the kid administered them all at once, instead of waiting five minutes between sprays. "How's his pressure?" Carter worries. "Zero over zero. He's dead," Abby retorts. Susan slowly turns to look at Carter, whose eyes are so wide you could serve Thanksgiving dinner on them. Abby rolls her eyes. "I'm kidding. I pulled him through," she reassures him. "Keep a short leash on your students." Ha! Her joke might've been the episode's best line. Carter's so into his role as mentor that he's leaving out tiny but critical details. Carter tries to be calm about it, but he does somewhat frantically decide to go check on Mr. Stegman.

Outside, we get an aerial shot of a widening hole in the ozone layer. No, wait, sorry, that's Mark's head. He's pulling an empty gurney toward a Toyota Land Cruiser, the SUV of choice for people who need to take their fathers to the hospital. "Did you see him get hit?" he shouts to the daughter, who we'll call Dizzy because it rhymes with Lizzie, as in Grubman, but keeps me from having to use the real L.G.'s name over and over in this recap. Dizzy's dad is stretched out on the car's back seat, where Chuny hunches over him and establishes that his breathing is shallow and his pulse weak. Mark uses his name -- Alan -- to try to get him to wake up, but he won't. Chuny finds abrasions on the man's back, and Mark yells for a backboard.

Susan chats with Little about Large's condition, standing over Large's comatose body while maintenance men drill at the ceiling. She tells Little that Large's blood count is normal, his chemistry is okay, and toxicology reports reveal nothing untoward. "Why is he still in a coma?" Little asks, looking a bit harried. Susan stops for a second to scream at the workmen, then guides Little out of the room while asking whether Large has been seeing a psychistrist. "Uh, I don't think so," Little says evasively. Something drops from the ceiling and shatters on the floor. "Sorry," offers the workman. No one is concerned that he might drop something atop Large's body, perhaps certain that the falling object would just safely bounce. Mark dashes past with Alan and Dizzy, screaming for a portable chest and pelvis, possibly for the robot wife he's building at home. Susan finally cuts to it: she thinks Large's coma is psychogenic, or in a layman's word, fake. "When we try to open his eyelids, they flutter," she cites. Little looks pissed. "What about the shaking and frothing at the mouth and everything?" he sighs, irritated. Susan explains that she wants a Psych consult down there to investigate it. "Yeah, great," Little groans. "He has been under a lot of pressure lately." Susan's bespectacled patient trots over and demands to know why Susan hasn't treated him. "You're still dressed?" she sighs. Turning to Little, she promises to move Large to a quieter room and says she'll notify Little as soon as someone from Psych is ready to see Large. "Can I just talk to my surgeon?" presses Bespectacled Man. "British chick, red hair?" Oooh, so we're faced with a possible Corday-related complication. Susan yells for the workmen to please shut up, although you get the feeling that she could be addressing that to a number of other people as well.

Mark rolls Alan onto a table in the green trauma room. "Systolic's up to 100," Malik informs him. Benton orders them to roll Alan and set up a Sonosite cross for six. Dizzy watches this, clearly distraught. "Large abrasions to the back," Mark repeats for the record. Weaver takes one look at Alan's back and asks if the car crushed him against something. "I...didn't see," Dizzy sniffles sketchily. Drifting into consciousness, Alan utters Dizzy's name. "Sir, you're in the hospital," Mark calls out, starting the process of establishing the man's memory and the condition of his cranium. "Daddy! I'm so sorry, Daddy," weeps Dizzy. "She didn't see me," murmurs Alan. Dizzy claims not to know what that means. "Sorry for what?" Weaver calmly asks Dizzy. "Were you in the car?" Mark barks, harshly. Dizzy claims ignorance again, fleeing the trauma room in tears. Benton announces that Alan might have a liver laceration. Weaver trots after Dizzy, while Mark calls for them to intubate, etomidate, and sux.

Elizabeth treats an elderly African-American woman, chatting casually with her about Birmingham, where the woman was stationed during the war, and where Elizabeth's uncle works. "We handled mail for seven million soldiers," recalls the woman weakly. "Sixty-five thousand pieces every eight hours." Elizabeth reacts kindly to this trivia while gently prodding the woman's belly. She's wearing makeup and her hair is smoothly styled, for probably the first time this season. I guess they're trying to make her softer all of a sudden. Elizabeth diagnoses the woman with a perforated colon, a product of her diverticular disease, and orders for an operation to fix it. The woman's daughter protests, reluctant to put her already weak mother through an invasive procedure. But if they wait until she regains strength, "she'll become extremely ill and surgery could be dangerous," Elizabeth explains. Her patient interrupts to ask whether Elizabeth would recommend this course for her own mother. "Absolutely," she states firmly. "Then we'll do it," the patient says shakily, smiling from her bed.

Susan interrupts to inform Elizabeth that Mr. Ashman, the specs-wearing man, has returned to the ER. "He says you repaired his hernia," Susan explains. "Chubby, drug-seeking hypochondriac?" Elizabeth asks. Susan says he's claiming severe abdominal pain, but she hasn't performed an exam herself. "Then why are you talking to me?" Elizabeth wonders frostily. Why does anyone talk to her? Because they lose bets. "Some surgeons like to treat their patients," Susan says. Actually, that's not all she says, but I wish she'd stopped there and just flat-out implied that Elizabeth doesn't care. Susan actually tacks on a "primarily," meaning that she knows surgeons who like to see their former patients any time they return with new or recurring problems. Naturally, though, Elizabeth doesn't. "Well, he's going to say he's tender, [so] you'll be seeing him eventually," Susan suggests. Elizabeth refuses to commit to this, and walks away. "Oh, I'm pretty certain," Susan gripes under her breath, whirling around and charging into the hall. She runs into Abby, who informs her she's on the way to get a dopamine drip started for one of Benton's patients. "Curtain Two, abdominal pain...needs a gown, don't you think?" Susan asks, a bit rudely. Abby grabs one off a nearby pile and hands it to Susan, continuing down the hall. I grant that Susan doesn't know things, but when the gowns are right there, did she have to treat Abby that way? Oh, wait, yes she did, because they have to be rivals in some bizarre love triangle.

Susan watches Abby bustle away, then starts to deliver the gown to Mr. Ashman when a loud cracking noise, followed by agonized cries, diverts her attention. Little has taken a steel beam and is using it to whack Large across the legs. "You thought you could fool me, is that it?" screams Little. As Susan yelps for Security, Large shrieks in pain. But then, she just watches with chagrined interest as Little snarls, "You take a loan from Mr. Bennett, he expects his money back." With a final few wallops and another threat, Little tosses the stick on the ground and leaves, nodding to a startled Susan. I guess it's just that easy to pose as -of-kin in a hospital ER, even when you look about as related as The Flash and SNL's Horatio Sanz. Susan rushes over to Large and asks if he's okay. "He broke my legs," sputters Large. Is that so? Then why are his feet moving? "He's not your brother?" Susan duhs. Large stares at her like she's got four noses.

Weaver has caught up to Dizzy and is trying to help her, offering to telephone her mother. "No, it's just us," Dizzy chokes. She starts talking about what a great day they had been enjoying. Alan treated her to lunch because she won early acceptance to law school, and he was so thrilled and proud that he laminated a copy of the letter to his toolbox. Aw! Bitterly, Dizzy shakes her head and stares through the door at her father, freaking when she notices them moving his body. Weaver informs her that the doctors are taking x-rays to determine whether Alan's pelvis is crushed. "Is that really bad?" Dizzy asks. Well, imagine your pelvis. Now imagine that it's in pieces, like a puzzle of bone shards and tissue. I'm sure that's not serious at all. Weaver is more patient, explaining that, yes, it could indeed be serious, and Alan might require surgery. "Oh, God," chokes Dizzy, shaking her head with grief. "He had to have been run over, or pinned against something," Weaver explains, subtly trying to elicit some kind of confession from this girl, who obviously knows more than she's admitting. Dizzy sniffles, rubs her face, and says, "It...was a wall." Weaver is shocked. "Look, I...I thought I was in reverse," Dizzy pleads. "It was such a tight space. He was out front, waiting for me to back out. I thought...I thought it was in reverse." This one goes out to Lizzie Grubman's defense lawyers and all you folks in The Hamptons. Shaking her head helplessly and staring through the doors at her father and the damage she wrought, Dizzy cries.

"Drops of Jupiter" is not a good song. I don't care what advertisers want me to think.

Abby joins Carter at the front desk, informing him that Mr. Stegman's troponin is positive -- which I believe means his muscles are contracting normally, but I confess the definition of "troponin" that I found made my eyes glaze. "I sent Mooney to the library," Carter tells her. "Good call," she tosses off. She also has test results for Large, who Carter explains is Susan's patient. "Uh, Dr. Lewis," he corrects himself suddenly. Abby leans against the desk. "Has she always been so high-maintenance?" she asks in a low voice. Carter argues that she isn't, and hasn't been, and that he really likes her. "Abby, could you get a rectal temp in room four?" Susan requests, appearing from thin air. Abby snarkily asks if that will be all for now. "That should do it," Susan sighs, irritated, walking to the counter and resting against it. Carter grins that he heard all about her hit man. "More like an enforcer," she corrects. "Never a dull moment," Carter trites. Susan groans that she could sure use one, so Carter decides to do the noble thing and give her more work. Hiding two charts behind his back, he tells her to pick one arm. "This is a set-up," she whines. Carter just insists that she pick an arm, so she taps his left. "Are you sure?" he asks. "No," she giggles, tapping his right arm instead. He hands her the chart. "Female abdominal pain!" Susan complains. "What did you get?" Carter impishly tells her he scored a suture removal. "This is definitely a set-up!" Susan whines. Whoa, tone it down, Sherry. My eardrums already bled out during Wolf Lake, and I can't afford another disaster. Anyway, Carter finishes that his suture removal is on a scrotum. "Oh, maybe not," Susan concedes. Heh! I bet it's painful for guys to do anything with testicles that involves rips, tears, and holes.

"All right, where is he?" Elizabeth barks, brusquely breezing into Reception. Susan is confused. "Mr. Ashman, I presume," Elizabeth says. "You paged me for a consult." Susan tries to conceal her triumph when she says an exam did indeed prove epigastric tenderness. "As predicted," Elizabeth says tersely, less than thrilled at Susan's accuracy. "I have the touch," Susan says politely. Elizabeth looks up and gives her a really funny fake smile, one of those that snaps right on and off the face. I use one every day before noon. "Better hurry before he finds his clothes," Susan says. Frank interrupts to tell Elizabeth that there's a code in the SICU on one of her patients. "You'll have to keep [his clothes] hidden," Elizabeth says, handing back Ashman's chart. See, they do fine together when the writers let them. I think the love triangle would be way more interesting if Susan and Elizabeth had hit it off and been friends first. Then, people might actually have a hard time choosing sides, although I admit I don't see many people out there clamoring for Mark to score with Susan. Or with anyone.

Susan greets Amal, a pretty young patient with stomach pain that's troubled her for a day. Amal is dressed very conservatively and stresses over how long an examination might take. Susan isn't sure. "Well, I need to be home in two hours," gulps Amal. "No matter what." So we know right away that the "what" will be dire.

Dizzy sprints toward her father's gurney, which Mark and Benton are wheeling toward the elevator. "His pressure's good, 110 over 60," Benton reads out. Mark explains to a worried Dizzy that her father is responding well to blood transfusions, but that he needs surgery to repair his lacerated liver. Dizzy wants to join them, but Malik holds her back and promises to come and collect her as soon as Alan's situated in the OR. Mark stays behind as Benton takes Alan upstairs. A cop grabs Mark to ask whether he's ordered a blood-alcohol test on Dizzy. "I smelled alcohol on her breath," the cop informs him. "A DUI with bodily injuries is a felony." Stunned, Mark claims that Dizzy wasn't driving, but the cop says she's changed her statement to admit that she was indeed behind the wheel. Weaver butts in by pretending she has something for Mark to do; then, when questioned, she noncommittally says that she might have smelled booze on Dizzy's breath, but doesn't know for sure. Mark and the cop argue back and forth over whether it's appropriate to administer a BAL test right now; Mark thinks it's awful, because Dizzy's dad is in critical condition and she's clearly distraught. "Because she hit him with her car while under the influence!" the cop says, exasperated. "Didn't seem drunk to me," Mark counters. Yeah, and your daughter didn't seem conniving, either. Fed up that Mark won't do him the favor of taking a blood sample, the cop passive-aggressives that he could just call a phlebotomist from the station, but Weaver interjects and promises him a blood draw -- but only after Alan's surgery is complete. The cop frets that he can't wait around and baby-sit the girl for several hours. "Well, come back!" Weaver sighs. "She's not going to go anywhere."

Susan examines Amal, who's predictably getting an ultrasound. Emotionally, Amal insists she absolutely must have an abortion. Susan tries to talk her down, reminding her that other options do exist, but Amal doesn't buy it. "My parents are so strict, they'll kill me," she trembles. Susan claims that everyone thinks that at first, and stares intently at the ultrasound screen. Amal argues that it's very different for her, and that she must be a virgin on her wedding day. I assume she means her parents must think she's a virgin on her wedding day, because obviously she isn't getting her cherry back. Virginity isn't exactly something you can reinstall. "If they find out that I had sex, I'm no longer their daughter," Amal whimpers. "They'll send me away. Out of the country. And I don't want to live there. I can't." Susan hmmms ominously. "Do you know what an ectopic pregnancy is?" she asks. Amal wonders whether it's a miscarriage, and there's more than a glimmer of hope in her voice. Brat. "Not exactly," Susan hedges. "It's where the fetus grows in the fallopian tube." Amal insists this must mean that she has to have an abortion, but Susan tells her that it's more serious than that -- it's surgery. "How long will that take?" Amal asks. Susan shrugs that she could be home by the morning. "No, I have to be home for dinner in an hour," Amal rants desperately. Susan argues that the surgery must be immediate, or the tube could rupture, causing Amal to bleed to death. The girl promises to return Saturday for the procedure, but Susan shouts, "You might not make it to Saturday!" Amal staunchly claims she doesn't care, which is stupid, and Susan reacts as such. Yosh interrupts to call Susan onto another case. Susan pauses to reassure Amal that they will think of something, because pregnancy is a confidential matter and they don't have to tell her parents the real reason for her surgery. "Dr. Lewis, status epilepticus," Yosh whispers urgently. Susan makes Amal swear she'll stay right there, but the girl never really says anything.

Yosh leads Susan to the yellow trauma room and tells her that the paramedics have brought in a woman who won't stop seizing. Her pulse ox is borderline, Yosh adds, so they might have to intubate. Susan snaps on gloves just as Luka charges into the room and barks out a dosage order. "Oh, you've got this one?" Susan asks, confused. Luka blinks. "Who are you?" he asks. Susan introduces herself and explains that it's her first day. "Resident?" Luka asks. "Attending," Susan retorts with a final snap of the rubber gloves. Staff meetings, I think, are woefully underrated. Luka exhales, then figures they can handle the patient together. The call came to the EMTs twenty minutes ago, so they can assume she's been seizing at least that long, but couldn't get a clear history from the husband because he only speaks Spanish. Luka calls for a gram of Dilantin, and just as he says, "I'll intubate," he hears Susan announce, "We should intubate." Let's all intubate! Come on, it'll be fun. But Luka stops talking and cedes control to Susan, who yells for seventy ccs of Zemuron. Yosh is puzzled. "Rocuronium," Susan clarifies. Yosh is puzzled anew. "I'll have to go to the pharmacy," he sputters. Susan calmly insists that it's just the absolute best nondepolarizing agent out there. "Uh, maybe, but we don't stock it," Luka says gently. He calls for 100 of sux -- is that like the ten of diamonds? -- and casually nudges Susan out of the way. He isn't rude about it, but rather seems to be trying to minimize reaction to her odd order for Rocuronium. He tells Susan to push the Dilantin, and she nods, embarrassed and a little peeved. A few people in the forums suggested that Susan rudely horned in on Luka's patient, but really, Yosh is the one who dragged her onto the case; Luka himself gave her the go-ahead to take control, so it isn't Susan's fault. My question is, was Susan on a true sabbatical from medicine all those years, or was Carter just being facetious with his pupils earlier? Because she makes it sound like she's picked up all this ritzy knowledge, which she probably wouldn't have done if she'd been on a break. Eh, but I'm already bored with the issue, so forget it.

Elizabeth and Shirley cardiovert a dying man, but the electric shock to his heart does no good. "How long since Cordarome?" Elizabeth asks. "Twenty minutes," Shirley sighs. Elizabeth wants to shock him again at a 260 charge, and tells Shirley to administer another amp of epi. "Just did," she murmurs. Dr. Robert "Ray of Sunshine" Romano strolls in and cheerfully wonders aloud whether "Lizzie" is trying to raise the dead. Elizabeth clicks the paddles and then informs Romano that this is septic hemicolectomy: "Maxed out on Dopamine and Levophed." The patient is in asystole, and Romano decides to pronounce him dead in his inimitable style, grinning, "Go directly to the morgue, do not pass Go, do not collect $200." Elizabeth winces, but does acknowledge the death and says she'll contact the family. "Not that I'm keeping score, but isn't this your third post-op death this week?" Romano asks, right in front of a passel of hospital workers. "Congratulations. We call that a hat trick."

Susan has a thousand units of Dilantin ready for the seizing woman. Her husband enters, and Luka asks whether his wife has epilepsy. In Spanish, the man says he doesn't think she does; Luka yells for a translator, but Susan intervenes and immediately starts addressing the man in Spanish. I'll translate it. Susan asks if his wife is on any medications, and the man replies that she's taking something to block tuberculosis. "I have the bottle," he says, rummaging in his pocket. Susan asks whether she's taking anything else, but the man insists she's following the label's exact instructions -- eleven pills per day. Susan freaks, and explains to Luka that the word once, pronounced ON-say, means "eleven." But the instructions on her pill bottle were written in English, so the patient accidentally interpreted the word "once" as once. This is a pretty clever twist, I think, although you'd think the woman would notice that none of the other words on the label looked familiar. Still, it's such an innocent mistake, and probably not altogether uncommon. Susan orders six grams of Pyridoxine as Yosh escorts the husband to a waiting area. He calls out, "Doctor, can you help her?" Susan turns. "Yes, we're going to help her," she replies. Turning back, Susan calls for Pavulon while they wait for the other medication. Luka quietly asks what she told the man. "I said we'd help her," Susan repeats. As machines and monitors beep wildly, Luka stares first at Susan, then at the woman, and exhales in sheer skepticism.

An older Russian woman follows Carter through the hospital, complaining of dehydration and the fact that she can't keep down any fluids. "You have gallstones the size of golf balls," Carter says pleasantly. She doesn't understand, but Carter doesn't have time to explain because Abby yells for his help with Stegman. He's crashing, so they're going to cardiovert. Stanley -- the other med student -- gets the call. Carter explains that the paddles are charged, so he must apply firm pressure to the chest, back off, and say "clear" before pressing the buttons. Naturally, Stanley botches this, so Carter is not out of the way in time, and Stegman's twitching arm nails him right in the balls. Abby freaks, thinking he's been shocked, and reprimands Stanley for yelling "clear" too late. Stanley, though, is enamored of his lifesaving work, happily proclaiming that Stegman has a pulse and a normal sinus rhythm. Carter chokes that his balls took a beating, perhaps some cosmic vengeance for thinking they'd had gotten big enough to warrant his Big Man on Hospital Campus behavior. Abby preps an ice pack for him. "Feels like someone kicked me in the chest," Mr. Stegman moans. "Well, consider yourself lucky, Mr. Stegman," Abby replies, glaring pointedly at Stanley. Carter staggers to his feet, clearly interested in vomiting up at least one of his private orbs.

Luka updates that the Spanish patient has now been seizing for almost an hour. Yosh has administered four grams of Pyridoxine, but Susan says it isn't enough -- the woman needs one gram for each gram she ingested. Yosh balks, insisting he can't run to the pharmacy and restock because this is all the Pyridoxine they have. Susan tells him to send a courier to check all local hospitals -- Mercy, Northwestern, and Parkside. "Parkside closed last year," Luka says. Susan scowls. Charging the paddles to 200, Susan stares morosely at Luka, who busily compresses the woman's chest, but makes time to meet and equal Susan's doleful gaze.

Romano, Benton, and Elizabeth scrub for surgeries. Romano expresses amazement that Dizzy crushed her own father against a wall. "You wonder why I don't have kids," Romano comments, probably well aware that his kids would do the same, but deliberately. Not that I would condone it, because without his smart-ass mouth, I'd be so bored. Elizabeth says she's going in to repair a perforated diverticulum -- of the older African-American woman -- and Romano snarks that she should be sure to scrub under her fingernails to avoid another post-op death. Elizabeth sassily holds up her hand and does so, but she's shot from the side and practically off-camera -- which is why she can get away with flipping him the bird under the auspice that she's scrubbing under that finger's nail. Freeze-frame caught that touch, and it's a nice one. It also symbolizes that Elizabeth and Romano absolutely need to nail. A nurse announces that Roger is on the horn for Benton, but he must take a message because his and Romano's patient crashes. Romano insists that Roger can wait, because "bad news will never go away."

Luka's and Susan's patient goes into asystole, just as Yosh announces that a courier from Mercy can have the Pyridoxine there in ten minutes. They halt compressions and stare hopefully at the monitors, but the beeps are ominous and reveal that they've been unable to help her. "Turn up the gain," Susan orders, but that doesn't reflect any positive change. She tells Luka to resume compressions, which he does, but he looks well aware of the futility of it all. Yosh exposits that the woman's heart hasn't beat for thirty-five minutes. "Her pH is 6.8," Yosh says sadly as Luka offers to keep going. Susan ruefully calls it. "We'll never get her back," she sighs. "Stop CPR. Put the husband in a quiet room. I'll be right there." Cut to a long shot of the room, so that Susan and Luka can walk out toward the camera. He compliments her on the pickup, saying he'd never have caught that. "Lot of good it did," Susan says, depressed. They part company as we fade to commercial.

Abby makes her familiar walk to the front desk, wryly asking Carter whether he feels better. "The boys bounce back quick," Carter says, fervently hoping Abby will interpret this as a nod to his sexual stamina. Before she can throw herself at him, Carter winces and complains that he may have tweaked his back again. Abby wonders whether a doctor should examine it, "or your front." Carter ignores this. They tend to his elderly female patient, who is puking into a yellow container and who, of course, must have a comical mix-up involving American slang and the phrase "tossing cookies." Stanley scampers over to apologize to Carter, offering to order an x-ray for Carter's crotch. Carter declines. "It could be somatic dysfunction at the myofascial junction," Stanley posits, adding that he studied alternative medicine in Hong Kong. "I could try a muscle energy technique." Basically, he's offering to grope Carter's balls. Carter refuses Stanley's very sincere attempts to peek inside his trousers.

Benton and Romano operate on Alan's liver. Roger races up to the window and shouts, "Where's Reese?" Roger can't find him at school or in the hospital daycare, which surprises Benton because he thought Reese was still at school. Romano says the word "falciform" because he's still paying attention to his patient. Benton is confused, and wonders whether Carla's mother picked up Reese. "Who let this guy in here?" growls Romano. Ignoring this, Benton yells that Reese's school keeps a card full of contact numbers, on which Carla's mother is included. Romano shouts that Alan is bleeding, and demands that they pack off the liver. Roger dashes off to call Reese's granny. "Yeah, you call Grandma, you call Grandpa, and I'll roll this guy over so we can all kiss his ass goodbye!" Romano bellows angrily.

Abby chats with Mr. Ashman, and Susan strolls over to see whether Corday has examined him yet. "No, I drank the Russian water," he says, referring to whatever the elderly woman had. He claims to feel better, "no thanks to [Susan]." Abby dryly hands him the puke bucket and promises that he'll need it. I love that he can just roam around and chug things indiscriminately. Susan quizzes Abby about Amal's whereabouts, and Abby informs her that Amal left, but vowed to return at 9 PM. Susan is irate that she wasn't informed of this before Amal left, but Abby insists Susan was busy elsewhere. "She's an ectopic!" cries Susan. Abby didn't know this, and didn't have her chart; Susan demands that Abby find it.

Gamma approaches the desk, dragged by her chauffeur. He claims she fainted, but Gamma pooh-poohs it as a simple dizzy spell. Susan, not recognizing her, won't let them see Carter as requested, trying vehemently to refer them to a triage nurse down the hall. Gamma wants to leave, but the driver won't budge. "John?" Gamma calls out. Susan begins to snap at her, until Carter charges over, worried, wondering what Gamma is doing there. "She fainted outside Marshall Field's," the chauffer tells him. Yeah, right. She shops at Saks or not at all. Gamma staunchly insists that she didn't faint, but Carter is clearly panicked and knows she's blowing him off. Chagrined, Susan realizes this is Carter's grandmother; he introduces them. "Terribly sorry, ma'am," Susan apologizes. Gamma smiles sharply. "Well, I guess you're only rude to strangers," she says, smiling falsely. Yeah! Go Gamma! Susan flinches as Carter leads his grandmother away.

Elizabeth wheels her patient, Mrs. Wilson, out of the OR and shouts that her surgery went brilliantly. "You're on your way to Recovery," she booms. "I need your address," Mrs. Wilson mutters groggily. "Gotta send you a thank-you note." Uh, you might want to hold onto that, because it seems it takes a few days to fully survive Elizabeth. A pretty young woman in a lab coat jogs up behind Elizabeth and introduces herself as Carmen from Infection Control. Again, no one seems worried that she's pursuing Elizabeth in front of a patient. Carmen at least has the good grace to ask for a private moment, so Elizabeth reluctantly lists some instructions for Mrs. Wilson's care and lets the nurses depart with the gurney.

And now, the "private moment" begins, right in the middle of the hallway. Carmen explains that the death of Elizabeth's patient that day triggered an investigation. "You need to be cultured," Carmen says. Elizabeth whips out her Les Miserables CD and beats Carmen over the head, screaming, "Culture this!" But apparently, Carmen just means that Dr. Corday should be tested to ensure that she's not carrying an insidious bacterium that's being transmitted to her surgical patients. Affronted, but more than a little startled, Elizabeth tries to blow off Carmen, claiming that she simply can't spare the time. Carmen politely points out that Elizabeth's surgical privileges could be revoked if she fails to cooperate, to which Elizabeth icily replies, "If you have concerns, talk to my chairmen." But Carmen already has, and got full support from Drs. Anspaugh and Romano. Elizabeth looks primed to spit nails into Romano's eye sockets, although sometimes in the Corday/Greene household, that look passes for loving concern.

Susan bends Mark's ear about Amal's situation, explaining that the girl fears deportation if her parents discover proof of sexual activity. Mark suggests that Susan lie and say they're operating to remove an ovarian cyst. "And falsify a consent form?" Susan flinches. Mark looks at her, certain she's forgotten about the paragraph in the Hippocratic Oath that covers the use of little white lies. Susan would prefer to invoke the "What They Don't Know Won't Hurt Them" rule. After all, pregnancy can be treated as confidential, even if the patient is a minor. Of course, Amal looked twenty-four, but if they want her to be under eighteen, that's fine with me. Let's make Mark twelve, too. Mark asks whether Susan trusts Amal to return, and the good doc claims she does, but isn't terribly convincing. Mark is called to the phone so that he can speak to Elizabeth, who couldn't figure out a way to talk to him in person, given that they're in the same building and all. Weaver uses this opportunity to waylay Susan. Sympathetically, she says she heard about Susan's dead patient and knows how tough cases like that can be, then segues right into her real point. "I've been meaning to talk to you about the nursing shortage," Weaver says gingerly. Frank interrupts to tell Weaver that Dizzy's BAL test came back; she blew a 0.092, just over the legal limit. Weaver waves him off, saying she'll alert the cop herself. Weaver oversimplifies that if Susan would just pitch in a bit, everyone will be happy. "The nurses are complaining?" Susan asks, pretty certain she knows which nurse that might be. "Yeah, I told them you're used to better staffing," Weaver explains, which does sound pretty diplomatic to me. She then says something rude to the effect that the nurses will willingly cut her some slack until she's "up to speed." Susan watches Weaver leave, feeling two feet tall. You know, if it's revealed that Abby did bitch to Weaver, why don't we get to see it? I'd love to see Abby and Weaver have a meaty scene together. It gets old when Abby has a choice of talking to Carter, Luka, or Susan, and no one else. She can have conversations that don't include her romantic entanglements. It's true! I read about it somewhere. It's called "good writing."

Mark hangs up and begs Susan to cover his last hour. "Elizabeth's stuck. I have to get home to the baby," he pleads. Of his orders to her, we care about exactly none. He does ask her to grab milk and Huggies on the way home, and she punches him. Well, in my mind, anyway.

Benton and Romano pick away at Alan's body. Romano is pleased with Alan's blood-pressure reading, and decides that they can take down the packing around his liver. Roger runs up to the glass again, and shouts that Carla's mother has been home all day, and he couldn't reach Jackie, but Joanie didn't pick up Reese, either. Romano yells for more suction. Benton wants Roger to call the cops immediately, and announces to Romano that he's going to scrub out of an important two-person surgery. Yeah, we all know you aren't going to do that, Peter. Romano demands that Benton do a pringle before Alan bleeds out. Peter grabs a tube and does the duck-bill thing with two Pringles, and Romano excuses him. Oh, except he doesn't, because "if you take your hands off the liver, he'll die!" Romano explodes. He throws something metallic for good measure.

Carter studies Gamma's EKG, pronouncing it stable. Gamma insists that Alger, her driver, tends to overreact and be condescending about it. "You gave him a scare," Carter defends. "I was a little woozy getting out of the car," Gamma insists. Carter calls it "near syncope." Gamma says, "I call it skipping lunch." Carter disconnects her from the EKG monitor, but Gamma wants to pull off the suction cups herself. "Are you sleeping okay?" Carter asks, softly. She sighs, but doesn't reply. "Are you...depressed?" Without looking at Carter, Gamma says she just misses her husband, but balks at his suggestion of therapy. Predictably, Gamma isn't taking this seriously, and just wants to rev up again and return to her usual crammed schedule, having already skipped two appointments and in danger of missing another reception. I hate this whole brave-little-soldier routine. If she's so close to Carter, she should bloody well start listening to him. Carter wants to monitor her heart overnight. "In here?" Gamma asks. "I don't think so!" Carter calmly says that if she'll just wait long enough for him to check her blood work, they'll make the decision later -- but that she can definitely start fresh tomorrow. "There are no more tomorrows, John," Gamma says tiredly. "Your grandfather and I used to think we had a lifetime of tomorrows." Carter stares at her, concerned.

Susan calls Amal's house, masquerading as a friend from school with a query about Math homework. "Okay, great, I'll call after dinner," she says, masking frustration. Yosh flags her down and tells her that a Mr. Gadasco still awaits her attention. She doesn't know who that is, but kicks herself when she remembers he's the man whose wife died of an accidental overdose of anti-TB medication. Aghast that she forgot him, Susan runs to him immediately.

The following scene is delivered entirely in Spanish, but I'll do it in English again for simplicity's sake. Personally, I enjoy that the scene wasn't subtitled, because the actors ably communicated their meaning without being painfully obvious about it, plus the concept assumes a certain level of viewer astuteness. Gadasco asks Susan how it all went, and she quietly explains that the antidote didn't stop his wife's convulsions, which were so strong that they induced a heart attack. "Oh my God," chokes Gadasco. "We gave her an electric shock, and all the medication to save her, but she didn't respond," Susan says. "We worked with her for two hours, but she died." Gadasco's face crumples. He staggers backwards, turns to the wall and places his hands against it, leaning for support with his head hanging. "No!" he shouts suddenly, banging his head against the wall. "No, no, no, no!" Susan apologizes for his grief. "How could this have happened? What am I going to do?" he wails. "Eleven! The bottle said eleven!" Susan tries to calm him down, but to no avail. "We followed the directions! We thought we were doing everything right!" he cries. Susan again begs him to simmer down, aware that this is tumultuous news for him. "What am I going to tell my sons?" he demands tearfully. "Why did this have to happen? Why did this have to happen?" Susan repeats over and over again how sorry she is, and gently puts a hand on his shoulder, guiding him onto a seat. As he leans his forehead into his hands, Susan sits silently with him, shouldering some of his pain.

Speaking of pain, Elizabeth is getting a Q-Tip jammed up her nostril. To test for bacterial infections, Carmen must stick a probe rather far up her nasal cavity; interestingly, this is also standard when being tested for anthrax, and I've heard it feels like getting your brain jabbed. Elizabeth says as much. Carmen says the bacteria in Elizabeth's patients is pretty resistant, and Elizabeth may be colonized. Carmen swabs Elizabeth's tonsils, which induces gagging, and Carmen cheerfully hands her a gown so that Elizabeth can get changed for a pelvic exam. "You've got to be kidding," groans Elizabeth. Carmen shakes her head. "A surgical tech in Ohio was passing nocardia from her vaginal flora," she says, smiling. Elizabeth and I look sickened at this superfluous detail; I, for one, don't relish the juxtaposition of Elizabeth with the words "vaginal flora." Sarcastically, Elizabeth suggests that Carmen grab a sample of breast milk, too, and then growls when Carmen agrees that it's a great idea. She also wants urine and stool samples. Elizabeth grabs the empty cup and stares at it, freaked, like it's going to bite off her chin.

Benton bolts out of the OR, totally blowing off Dizzy's queries about her father's health. "Look, I have another emergency, so just wait in the room, okay?" he shouts, joining Roger at a nearby pay phone. Benton grabs the phone and tears a fresh asshole on the cop at the other end, demanding that the police find his son and stop sitting on their worthless, doughy asses.

Prepping for the arrival of a transfer from Mercy, Weaver stumbles upon Amal's chart. Susan tries to cover, but Weaver does look at it and notices that Amal may have left. "I'm not sure," hedges Susan. "She's an ectopic!" Weaver protests. Susan swears that it's under control, and that Amal will be back in two hours. "If she's still alive in two hours!" Weaver screeches, following Susan and a fresh gurney loaded with a hurting patient. Weaver insists that it's not worth risking Amal's life just to protect her from her parents, and takes Susan off the incoming case. "Call your patient right now. You're being completely irresponsible," Weaver scolds. "If she's sick, they can bring her in!" notes Susan. "Not if she's dead," Weaver spits, leaving Susan alone and frozen out of the trauma room.

Does anyone still watch Third Watch? ["Did anyone ever watch Third Watch?" -- Wing Chun]

As Benton frantically makes more calls, Roger complains that there are too many names on the list at Reese's school -- ten, to be precise, which he feels is impossible for the personnel to track. Roger fears any stranger could walk up and claim he's an uncle. "Haven't had problems before," Benton says shortly. "Are you sure you got there on time?" Roger bellows, "Yes!" Spying something through the window glass, Benton sprints through the swinging doors and comes upon Reese and Jackie. "What are you doing here?" Benton barks. "Where were you?" He scoops up Reese and hugs him tightly. Jackie doesn't understand the commotion. She picked up Reese because he acted out at school, biting a little girl; Peter was in surgery, so they called Jackie and she left a message with Benton's voicemail. Then why didn't the folks at Reese's school relay this information? If Reese left for disciplinary reasons, an authority figure would've had to have pulled him aside and made the decision to release him and phone Peter. Whatever, ER. Roger informs Jackie that it was his day to pick up Reese, not Peter's. Jackie regards Roger blankly, wondering disdainfully why Roger is still pitching in with Reese. "We have dinner every Tuesday and Thursday," he tells her. Jackie softly tells Peter that Reese had three fights at recess this week. He tries to ask Reese about it, and of course Reese signs something that looks like a denial. Jackie also relays that the teacher wondered about problems at home. Again, wouldn't she know about Carla? Are we supposed to think Reese's school is so unforgivably ignorant? Roger bristles when Jackie repeats the teacher's suggestion that Reese needs more stability. So really, it's all Carla's fault for dying, which means it's Lisa Nicole Carson's fault for going insane. Great, okay. That's easy. "He wasn't getting in fights while he was living with us," Roger says defensively. Jackie sighs and says she was just repeating what the teacher told her. Benton muses that perhaps Reese should stick to a single home for a while. Roger freaks, citing their agreement and his love for his stepson. "Yeah, but we need to think about what's best for Reese," Jackie says coolly. She's all made up and sharp-looking, so I wonder if we're supposed to think she's regaining normalcy by treating Reese as her own. I hope this isn't heading down a Jackie-is-crazy path. Roger quite logically wonders whether Reese is acting out because he lost his mother, which seems pretty savvy to me, but Benton heads off any further discussion by remembering he needs to call the cops and call off the dogs. Jackie and Roger stare each other down for a second before we cut away.

Chuny calls Weaver up to the OR; Weaver lingers long enough to make sure she tells Carter to check up on Susan and her ectopic patient. Because Weaver is anal. Got it. Carter nurses his back pain a bit, but bolts upright when he spies Gamma leaving. "It's late, John," she admonishes him. "I've been a good sport." Carter frets that her dizziness was a warning sign pointing to a stroke or heart attack, but Gamma will take her chances and says she's already signed out against all medical advice. Carter should grab her by the hairpin and yank her all the way back to a bed, but when he's around Gamma, his already sore balls shrivel even more. Carter fights it all the way to her limo, but Gamma continues to blow him off; frustrated, Carter tells Alger to check on her in an hour. I swear I hear Gamma say, "I'm not a steak, Alger." Hey, she's old, but she's right about that much. The limo pulls away to reveal Susan perched on a bench. "Sorry if I offended her," she says. Carter doesn't want her to think twice about it, but does complain that Gamma never takes him or his advice seriously. "What do you expect?" Susan smiles sympathetically. "She changed your diapers." She consoles Carter, noting that all the signs point to Gamma's continued good health. Carter inquires about Amal, and Susan says she's giving Amal until 9 PM before calling her house again. Carter thinks that's pretty risky, but Susan intones, "'Danger' is my middle name." Austin "Danger" Powers will be suing her imminently. She laughs that her first day back has been "like an acid flashback, but without the good parts. I don't know what I was thinking when I said I'd come back." Carter chuckles. "You weren't," he says. "But at least you're working with friends." They clasp hands, beaming at each other supportively. Abby appears at just that moment, pausing to watch this moment of genuine closeness. Carter and Susan watch her expectantly, not releasing their grip; Abby flushes green for a second, then stammers that a woman in active labor has arrived. We learn that her name is Denise, and it's a healthy pregnancy -- for once. Thank God.

Cut inside to Denise screaming in pain on a hospital bed. The baby is crowning, and Denise shrieks that she absolutely needs to push immediately. Susan invites her to do just that, while Abby comments that this child is shooting out fast. A cascade of fluid showers an electric unit on the floor. Suddenly, the bed starts rising. Abby and Susan totally bicker about who's responsible for it -- mostly, Abby thinks Susan is touching the pedal, and Susan is denying it -- until Carter finally realizes that the equipment shorted out when the woman's water broke. The woman pants as she elevates. Everyone's all, "Umm....." as they watch the bed go higher and higher. "I can't deliver the baby like this!" Susan exclaims. "Get Luka, he's tall," Abby says calmly. Wow, she's been something of a brat this week, but she also got off some of the best lines. Susan yells for Carter to take over, and bolts outside to find the annoying workman from earlier.

Once she's got the ladder in hand, Susan wheels it into the delivery room. "Oh, you're kidding me," Abby groans. Hey, it's a better solution than getting Luka to stare up this woman's vagina. "What are you doing?" wails the scared mother. "Uh, just setting up equipment," Carter says. The mother frantically begs them not to drop her baby, so Susan reassures her by claiming that Carter used to be in the circus. "Yeah, as a clown, right?" Abby smirks. "Human cannonball," he corrects. "I got fired." The agonized mother reaches up to slap her knee, so happy is she that her current predicament is fodder for Carter's stand-up routine. "Push!" Susan shouts. The umbilical cord is wrapped around the child's neck, so Abby tosses two clamps to Carter and then almost throws scissors, until Carter thinks better of it and has her hand them to Susan. Abby looks bummed that she doesn't get to lob sharp objects at Dr. Righteous's cranium. But the baby is fine, and Susan announces that it's a boy. She holds him up as Carter pats his head and says, "Hi, Mom!" It's actually kind of endearing, especially because that baby is so, so gorgeous. Never mind that he's not crying, not dirty, and not wrinkly and shriveled. This child actor is clearly uncooperative, and will never work in Hollywood again.

Weaver breaks the news that Dizzy's father died in the OR. "I need to see him," Dizzy gasps, sobbing and fleeing the waiting room. The cop catches her, trying to cuff her and read her rights. "It was an accident!" she screams. "We only had a couple glasses of wine!" She's weeping now, gasping for air and pretty much inhaling all nearby scenery. Weaver tries valiantly to soothe her and get the cop off her case. "Let her say goodbye," Weaver pleads. Dizzy screams some more, so the cop finally relents and releases her long enough to let her bid Alan's body farewell.

Valium Villa is quiet, for once. Mark announces that he got Ella's diaper culture, and put it in the fridge. I assume she's being tested for possible infection as well, given that she suckles potentially tainted breast milk. Mark assures her he triple-bagged the diaper. "Did I hear the phone ring?" he asks, worried. He did not. Rachel hasn't called, and was due home ages ago; Mark didn't think to get Claire's last name, so he can't call her parents to find out where the hell his daughter is. Elizabeth reads him the riot act, but calmly, claiming that he needs to think of these things. He's such a dope. I think his "brain tumor" was actually just a large mass of common sense that revolted, pissed at being underused for so many years and anxious for liberation. Mark thought that talking to the parents was sensible, but Elizabeth rightly points out that it does them no good if Mark doesn't even know where Rachel is. "I told you about the party," says Rachel, having quietly entered from the kitchen. She's two hours and fifteen minutes late, for which Mark tries to scold her. It seems Andrew brought her home; the food at the party didn't meet with her fancy because she's a vegetarian, so "some of us" went out to grab a meal after it ended. Mark manages to deduce that "some of us" probably means "Rachel and Andrew." Annoyed, Rachel whines, "Dad!" Mark counters that he needs to know such things. Rachel snarks that he sounds exactly like Vulcan Jen. That shuts Mark up fast. Rachel insists that she's just innocently making friends, not drinking or doing drugs or otherwise endangering herself. "All you had to do was call!" Mark scolds. "I tried," lies Rachel. "The pay phone was broken." Mark is silent. That's a classic lie, and an easy one. Plus, even if Rachel lacks a mobile phone, there's no way that all of her supposed new friends wouldn't have one between them. Rachel takes it a step further, assuming that Mark won't call her bluff. "If you don't believe me, call the restaurant!" she says. Oh, this girl is a master manipulator. Mark grimly seethes that she must not let this happen again. Rachel figures that this is a good time to prod him, noting that if she had a cell phone, this whole catastrophe could've been averted. "Yeah, right," Mark snorts. She persists, claiming that it would be ideal for emergencies. "We'll see," he says. Her face alight because she knows she's won, Rachel creeps around and hugs her father angelically. Feh. Go away, hell child.

Susan bumps into Amal, who apologizes for being late and claims she had a tough time sneaking out of the house. Delighted to see her, Susan practically drags Amal to the front desk, where she orders Abby to find a room for her. "Uh, where's her chart?" Susan asks. Abby is certain Weaver has it, but can't speculate as to why. Susan is startled, but figures Weaver must be betraying her trust and telephoning Amal's parents. Cursing, she barges into the lounge and finds Weaver on the telephone. "She's here, you don't have to call!" Susan panics, hanging up the phone. "I told you she'd be back!" Weaver has no idea what she's saying. "Amal, the ectopic," Susan explains. Oh, but Weaver didn't call her, so Susan just swallows her embarrassment, grabs the chart, and hightails it outta there.

Alone once more, Weaver picks up the phone and redials. She explains to her supposed birth mother exactly how she got the number, but in a moment of silence, her face falls. "Did you give up a daughter for adoption?" Weaver quizzes, starting to get alarmed. Her face freezes. "I understand," she sputters. "No, I...I thought this was from a reliable source. I will not bother you again. Goodnight." Hanging up the phone, Weaver allows disappointment to wash over her as we fade out for the night.

Oh, great. We've got a horde of November "events" coming up on ER, with Weaver screaming and power lines and rainstorms, and "a relationship that intensifies" -- i.e. Susan and Carter. Man, I hate when ER has "events."