Last time, during The Storm, Weaver met a paramedic named Lopez, who knocked her out of the way of puddles and falling objects during a power surge that symbolizes a crackling attraction. Roger sued Peter for custody of Reese. Susan got revisionist on us and claimed that she crushed on Carter in the old days. Neecole got busted for stealing from the ER, and fled the scene -- only to return and announce to Luka that she's pregnant. Abby realizes that Neecole has told conflicting stories about her upbringing, and that she's a stinky, flaming liarpants.
In the hospital day care center, Jackie holds up a picture that Reese drew. On orange construction paper, he scrawled a stick-figured boy with purple hair, a matching sweater, and, naturally, no pants, because stick figures are exhibitionists and always have been. The figure is smiling and waving, standing between two homes. You might as well call it "Exhibit A." Jackie, of course, lauds the drawing like a proud aunt. But she also has the most hideous Afro bob on the planet, so that should tell you something about her taste. Dr. Peter"nity Test" Benton enters, kisses Jackie's cheek, and heads straight for Reese. "I missed you last night," he grins at his child, who looks delighted to see Peter. Of course, Reese gets all excited and wants to play, but Peter can't; instead, he promises to return later and take Reese home to bed. Shirley pops in to demand Benton's help on a post-op hemicolectomy; he tells her to call Edson because he's off at 8 AM, but it's just 7:55, so naturally he gets paged and can't finagle his way out of both entanglements. Reese fidgets.
Jackie follows her brother into the hall, whispering frantically that she had a helpful epiphany. She remembered that Carla always wanted Reese to spend Father's Day with Peter, and insists the judge should know because it says a lot about the relationship. Except the judge wouldn't care; if a birth certificate is inadmissible proof of Carla's desire to pair Reese and Peter, then Jackie's non-revelation will hold less water than a fork. Peter wants her to suck on the freezer and chill -- it's the first day of the trial, and she's helping plenty just by chauffeuring Reese.
Dr. Mark "So I Married A Battleaxe?" Greene abuses his phone privileges, using the front desk to call Rachel's school and ask for her attendance records. He then fades into the background, because God loves me. "Who's allergic to lilies?" complains Dr. Susan "Emmanuel" Lewis, shrinking with nervousness because Gamma didn't dig the blossoms she sent. Dr. John "Loins of Fire" Carter watches his crush, amused and aflame and eager for the episode to end because that's when the fun stuff happens. He explains that lilies are generally a funeral flower, and Susan reacts with an appropriate level of horror and embarrassment. Carter is clearly enjoying this. Mark, however, is not. "You sent his grandmother flowers?" he asks casually, but his eyebrows shoot so high they disappear into his hairline -- which, we well know, is on the back of his head. Susan explains that she's trying to get into Gamma's good graces. Mark flinches, I think, but maybe I'm just rooting too hard for his jealousy to consume him in a very literal sense. Carter shares that Gamma's more concerned with Julie, the girl she mowed down during The Storm, than with Susan's bloom snafu. Apparently, Gamma's lawyers have been busy negotiating a very handsome settlement for Miss Julie. That takes care of that plot. How efficient. They stroll away, abandoning the cameras with Mark. He barks into the phone that he's already spoken with the vice principal, and requests a faxed copy of Rachel's records.
Benton appears and asks who's been paging him. Apparently, it's Elizabeth, who just arrived at work and is running a tad late. Frank didn't realize that Elizabeth had been cleared to operate. "What about all the dead geezers?" he asks, amazed. Mark sighs and insists there hasn't been any evidence of wrongdoing; Frank fake-smiles that it's good news, but then turns away and mutters, "When the paramedics roll me in, I'll take Romano." Wow. That's faith! I'd have them wheel me into a different hospital altogether.
Dr. Luka "Sperm Bank" Kovac and our spry pal Gallant hold court in Trauma Green, examining a woman who took a bullet to the temple at close range. "Who shot her?" Gallant asks. "Does it matter?" barks an entering Benton. He's clearly rushed, and he's annoyed that Luka hasn't already started a course of medication. "I'm still assessing her," protests Luka. He's trying to walk Gallant through some basic procedures. "Why don't you treat the patient first?" Benton snaps, coldly enough to freeze Luka in his tracks. The woman's brain stem seems dead, and her blink reflex is inactive. Just as Peter rattles off a list of meds, Dr. Elizabeth "Storm? What Storm?" Corday bursts in to take command of the procedure. Benton reams her for making him stay twenty minutes past his time, and orders someone to call neurosurgery immediately if the woman's head CT shows anything fixable. That sort of sounds obvious, doesn't it? "What's the rush?" asks Elizabeth, interested. "I have to be somewhere…you're late and I have to get the hell outta here." The Credits Of Old Pictures That Don't Mean The Show Is As Good As It Used To Be practically gobble up his frosty exit.
Elizabeth, Luka, and Gallant quietly poke and prod the gunshot victim. The room is much more relaxed without Benton, and in fact, Gallant goes so far as to ask if the older doctor is ever in a good mood. He doesn't realize that he's hit upon the eternal question. "He has his moments," Elizabeth smirks gently. The patient, blood crusting along the side of her face, doesn't blink during a check-up, and the doctors look resigned to the fact that she's brain-dead. She's only twenty-nine. Chuny whips out a driver's license, holds it right up to her face, and notes that the dying woman is an organ donor.
Outside Trauma Green, Luka asks the woman's husband, Old Man Pruitt, if the hospital can be of assistance in contacting any other family members. I prefer using first names, so we'll call this couple Ray and Donna in honor of , because it's Christmas, and Ray Pruit(t) owned a Christmas-tree lot with his trashy mother and his sensitive guitar. Elizabeth exits the trauma room to offer condolences to Ray, who chokes out Very Touching Stuff about how they were going to drive to Minnesota, and this trauma has ruined both her hair and their vacation. Sympathetically, Elizabeth explains that the bullet pierced Donna's brain stem, and surgery can't repair that; in addition, she isn't able to breathe on her own, so the odds of her surviving are very slim. "Her medical exam is consistent with brain death," Corday concludes. Ray blathers about how his child bride was sleeping peacefully when he saw her last. Elizabeth takes a deep breath and segues into the organ donation issue, admitting that it's a tough time to discuss this, but Donna did fill out the card in her wallet and that's something they must consider. "Yeah, I guess…it's what she wanted to…can I see her?" Ray chokes, kneading his hair. They consent.
Mark yells for Elizabeth to help him in Trauma Yellow. Fifteen-year-old Rudy Escalona, a boxing hopeful, suffered an LOC from an apparent blunt head trauma -- as in, some hard punches. Rudy's a cute kid. He isn't answering their questions, but he's awake; Papa Escalona shouts out that Rudy is in good shape and doesn't have any real medical problems. "I hit him, man," slurs Rudy, his eyeballs flickering wildly. "I hit him good." The reactive pupils seem like a good sign. Mark asks him what year it is, but Rudy's too whacked out to reply, drooling that nobody thought he could do what he apparently did. Papa Escalona begs his son to answer the questions, so Mark shoots Haleh a "get him out of here" look. Smoothly, Haleh guides the man into the hallway so he can get cracking on the paperwork. Elizabeth notes that Rudy has a clear airway and a soft abdomen, in addition to those delightful bee-stung lips just begging to be smooched, or painted with MAC Spice, or turned into a brooch. Under their breath, Mark and Elizabeth establish that, because she's off by six, she can check Rachel's homework. "She needs help with trinomials," Mark informs his wife. Elizabeth cracks that she failed algebra. "It's that, or the Revolutionary War," Mark offers. "I'll stick with math," she says quickly. Yeah! Because you lost that war, woman! Except so did my dad, so there will be no more gloating.
Luka chases down Dr. Kerry "Rhymes With" Weaver. Basically, he wants her to stick up for Neecole, claiming she's having a tough time and just made a simple mistake. That Palm Pilot? Looked exactly like a Snickers. "Is that your objective opinion?" Weaver asks dryly. Luka promises it won't happen again, but Weaver is resolute. The hospital has a no-tolerance policy against stealing. As well it should, because there's lots of good stuff to gank. Luka begs for a personal favor. "I can't," Weaver insists. "Or you won't?" he presses. "Please, I got her the job." Weaver gazes disdainfully at him, and correctly notes that he should've screened Neecole first. All this would be more interesting if we'd actually seen Neecole hoodwinking Luka; as it stands, though, he's just incredibly brainless and pathetic. Mild cheddar is sharper.
To change the subject, Weaver barks at Carter to get rid of the patient in Exam Four. Susan, Carter's new shadow, exposits that the patient might need rectal surgery. "You're on this, too, Susan?" Weaver asks, confused. Susan mutters that Carter just wanted a second opinion, and Weaver isn't amused, because they're low on doctors. "Call surgery. One doctor per patient," she scolds, leaving. Susan and Carter, now faced with the very real challenge of walking in different directions, exchange frustrated glances and prepare for the inevitable sound of conjoined-hip flesh ripping apart. "Have fun suturing," he sighs. "Have fun with your rectum," Susan responds.
Susan enters an exam room containing Gallant and a broody adolescent. We learn that Jorge, the youth, has a laceration sustained during a boxing match. Naturally, he's Rudy's brother, and he whaled on Rudy during their fight. "I didn't mean to hurt him," insists Jorge, but very blandly. He's a very stone-faced dude with empty dark eyes and the kind of cornrows that scream "bad-ass" to casting agents. Papa Escalona enters and cheerfully insists that Rudy will regain consciousness and be completely fine, and they can all go boating up the river in Egypt. Susan says Jorge will escape with just a few stitches; while Jorge broods, or cries inside, or tries in his mind to divide integers by zero (don't do it, Jorge! It's a trick! A dirty trick!), or generally tries to look perplexed. "This is one tough kid," oozes Papa, proudly patting his son's shoulder.
Roma, Benton, and Lackey Fred walk briskly and importantly down the sidewalk toward the courthouse. She coaches Benton on the basics of courtroom etiquette -- control his reactions, but don't look stony; write down whatever questions he wants her to address; sneeze in his hand, not on his sleeve; avoid blurting out things like, "Reese? You mean the kid or the snack treat?" Lackey Fred reveals that the schedule changed, and they drew Judge Alter, that titan of divorce court who's one vowel away from being ironically named. Roma exposits that Alter tends to side with the mother, which she crassly notes isn't an issue here. She then encourages Benton to reveal his maternal side, which is doubly funny because the only person on this show with a demonstrable maternal side is Susan Lewis. Roma complains about Peter's ugly, "showy" tie, and Lackey Fred obligingly removes his own navy-and-gray neckwear. Roma barks a few final orders at Benton. "You make it sound like it's some kind of performance," Benton observes. "It is," she says importantly. He looks down at Lackey Fred's tie, which is being proffered eagerly, and sighs. "That is the whitest tie I've ever seen," Benton says. Lackey Fred is confused. "It's blue," he protests. Oh, Fred. It's so much more than blue.
A young blonde woman puffs lightly on an inhaler while scratching at her face. She's half of a honeymooning couple from Syracuse, and they've trekked to three different emergency rooms in search of a cure for her sudden hives. I know I keep making up names for people, but it's annoying to write "the man" and "the woman" all over the place, so for fun we'll call them Ralph and Alice. Abby and Carter are examining her. Ralph says that "guided imagery" helps, and tells Alice to close her eyes and escape to a peaceful place. Abby wanders away to grab something, and spies Neecole storming her way through the lobby. "Uh-oh, better hide the good silver," breathes a watching Chuny. They gossip that Neecole is only there to get fired. My heart is jigging. Ralph, meanwhile, intones to Alice that she must relax and let their souls intermingle, which is code for "dream about me naked, and be generous with the inch count." Carter quizzes about any changes in detergent or soap, and Abby asks if Alice might be allergic to latex. Ralph acts like this "latex" is a foreign substance to him, so Carter basically explains for very stupid viewers that condoms are made of latex. Angelically, Alice breaks away from her puffer to share that they haven't used condoms in several weeks because they're trying to have a baby. "Feel the warmth of the sun," Ralph coos. "Just embrace the joy."
Susan passes right when Ralph is spewing New Age joy, and shoots him a really amusing "oh no he di-int!" look. She's got Jorge in tow, and is escorting the fighter to Rudy's trauma room while explaining that his vitals seem strong. "Is he awake yet?" asks Jorge, who seems antsy. Susan shakes her head, but theorizes that Rudy will probably be able to hear him speaking at his bedside. Hesitantly, Jorge enters the room, where Mark and Papa Escalona already stand. Susan stares through the glass.
On the stand, Roger smiles innocently and says he and Carla agreed that Reese would always be their first priority, which is why it was so damn rude of her to up and die like that. I think the man playing Roger's attorney is a well-known actor, but I am not a well-informed lady, so I'll be content to note that his shiny bald pate and huge brows, and dub him Eyebrows from here on out. Eyebrows coaxes Roger to elaborate on his dedication as a parent. Roger lists, "I learned to sign, I've always been in contact with his teachers," and he volunteered tirelessly at Reese's school, in addition to donating sixteen of his kidneys to the science department and discovering a cure for bedwetting. As Eyebrows asks about Roger's employment situation, Benton violates Rule #143 and leans over to whisper in Roma's ear. He's pretty sure the bedwetting thing was a lie. Roger clarifies that he's self-employed and runs a website company, which probably should be "tech company" or "website design company" or just "website," because as it's spoken, it sounds like Roger manufactures websites. He adds that he makes his own hours and hasn't ever needed to ask for help in picking up Reese. Eyebrows asks if he's ever dumped Reese into the laps of others, to which Roger self-righteously replies, "I never wanted to." By now, Benton is getting agitated. Roma objects to Eyebrows' implication that Benton wants to fob off Reese's care-giving, but the attorney argues that Roger has firsthand experience with Benton's version of parenting. We're treated to a rehash of the long list of Benton's helpers, which includes Roger himself, and the mention of which has Peter fidgeting in his chair. "Did Reese ever mention where he prefers to sleep?" asks Eyebrows. Roger puts on a noble face and says, "He likes my place. Says it's his home."
Elizabeth informs a heartbroken Ray that the procurement teams have arrived to begin harvesting Donna's organs. He's upset that Donna isn't dead of natural causes, so Elizabeth explains that her brain isn't functioning, and there's virtually no medical distinction between brain death and actual cardiac death. The machines aren't so much keeping her alive as keeping her organs viable for harvesting. Ray blinks and wonders why Donna can't be dead first; Elizabeth says that the pumping heart oxygenates the blood, which in turn keeps the organs healthy and primed for transplant. "We never talked about this," Ray says, unable to digest the fact that they'll remove his wife's innards while she's still breathing. "I'm not sure I can do this." Elizabeth understands, and takes back the forms, telling him to spend extra time with Donna before they proceed. She's really very gentle with him. Abby approaches to notify Elizabeth that pre-op is ready for Donna, but Elizabeth quietly says, "We're going to wait a bit," while looking worriedly at grieving Ray, who slowly approaches his dying wife.
Luka grabs Abby to get some meds from her; he barely looks her in the eye. Feigning nonchalance, Abby notes that she saw Neecole and heard a rumor that she lost her job, then lies that she's certain the waif will find another one somewhere else. Luka old-schools that it's all for the best, as Neecole should probably take it easy now that she's nurturing a fetus. Abby is so startled that Neecole is keeping the baby that she almost drops her own hands. She ascribes her redaction to the fact that it's hard to be a single mother. "She won't be," Luka whispers. By now, Abby's eyelids are lost in the back of her head. She hasn't blinked in five minutes. "She's a good person," Luka swears, sensing Abby's disapproval. "You met her, like, five minutes ago!" she protests. She expresses doubt that the pregnancy is legitimate, and notes that even if it is, there are other ways to help besides leaping into marriage. I wonder if Luka is enticed by a second chance at family life, and that's why he's so eager to believe Neecole. Luka doesn't meet Abby's gaze, insisting Neecole is a better person than to concoct such a contrivance, and huffily storms away.
We return from the break to discover that Rudy's brain is bleeding. Jorge gets scared by this diagnosis and slowly backs away from the discussion, while Mark says he hopes they can prevent an outright hemorrhage. Papa Escalona chides himself for letting Rudy and Jorge into the ring together. Mark, though, has evidence that the bleeding may have started -- or been primed to start -- long before the match, and could be curable by inserting a catheter into Rudy's brain to mend the ruptured artery. Gallant, who had been listening, notices Jorge's depression and kindly reminds him that this could've happened at any time, and wasn't caused by Jorge's fists. But the boy is resolute in his guilt. "It happened when I hit him," he says sadly.
up is a tiny throwaway moment in which Weaver mixes up who's in charge of which patients -- she thought Susan was treating Alice, but she isn't. Carter is. Grabbing her chart, Carter sidles up to Abby and Susan and asks if either woman has heard of a semen allergy before. "Maybe an aversion, but not an allergy," Susan cracks. Heh. That would be a new line, eh? "Sorry, Joey. I'm allergic." Carter shares that semen consists of hundreds of proteins that are potential antigens, but neither woman takes the diagnosis seriously at all. Which automatically means that Carter will be right. I hate how that works.
Abby greets an incoming patient named Sean Gatley, who's attached to the Porcelain God. "My foot's stuck," whines Sean. Apparently, the father wouldn't let them break the pot, which Dad claims is called a "personal hygiene system." Mrs. Gatley rolls her eyes. "Ugh, you're out of your mind," she groans. Hee! Sandy Lopez accompanies the gurney, and in the background, Weaver suddenly leaves reception and canes at top speed toward the gurney. It's not immediately clear that she saw Sandy, but I think she did, and rewound it twice to make sure. As soon as she nears Sandy, though, Weaver is the very picture of oblivion, acting totally innocent and surprised when Sandy hails her and introduces herself. "Good job last week," Sandy praises. "I hear the lady and the baby are doing okay." Weaver practically snatches Gatley's chart from Abby and says, "I got this one," without breaking eye contact with Sandy. It's cute.
Leaving Weaver to take care of Toilet Boy, Abby turns and bumps into Neecole, who is looking for Luka. Sensing this is an opportunity that can't be missed, Abby offers Neecole some coffee and escorts her to the lounge.
Divorce Court. Dr. Cleo "Bicentennial Woman" Finch is on the stand, having ironed her hair straight because curls are considered an indicator of Satan worship and grievous irresponsibility. "Peter is completely devoted to Reese," she oozes, doing that weird thing where she delivers the testimony while staring right at Benton and not at the person who asked the question. It's doubly weird when you consider that Michael Michele's eyes always make her look like she's mentally undressing someone she desperately wants to fuck -- not sex, or lovemaking; fucking. It's a crass but valid difference. Anyway, Cleo adds that she can't imagine a better or more devoted father. Eyebrows asks if Cleo and Benton are living together, which she claims they've discussed doing. Somehow, Cleo and Peter are a couple again. Did we see this? No. And apparently, she's been dating Peter for three years. Is that possible? If she first hit the credits during season six, then at the most, they've been together for two and a half years. Don't perjure yourself, Cleo; he's not worth it. Cleo hedges that their June break-up wasn't a split so much as it was a time-out; she's startled that Eyebrows knows the exact chronology of the relationship. Cleo promises that she will be a stable and constant factor in Reese's life, but Eyebrows can't help wondering when the break-up will occur. Not on camera, I can testify to that much. Roma objects, because this calls for prophesy, and the judge agrees but wants Cleo to answer anyway. So Cleo is pigeonholed, but diplomatically insists that she intends to be around both Benton and Reese for quite a long time. Still, she's lying prostrate in the coffin, and Eyebrows has a hammer and some nails. He brings up the piano incident, in which Cleo turned her head briefly and Reese subsequently fell and hurt himself. This caused a major argument between Carla and Peter, and made Cleo feel genuinely awful. Cleo keeps it together, but barely; things get heated enough that the judge calls for a fifteen-minute recess so that cooler heads can prevail.
Abby serves a cup of coffee to Neecole, who only now thinks to ask if it's decaf. "I shouldn't have caffeine," she says softly. Abby coughs that she forgot about that. Neecole isn't terribly startled that Abby knows, but retreats into herself when Abby offers to perform an ultrasound for her. "I'll take care of it," she says stiffly. Abby cocks her head. "How do you know you're pregnant?" she asks. Neecole flinches, then gets up to leave. "This is not the way to get Luka," Abby blurts. Neecole plays dumb, so Abby presses her about her conflicting stories. Abby: "What happened to your father?" Neecole: "I told you, he killed himself when I was little." Abby: "And miraculously came back to life so he could kick you out when you were sixteen?" Go Abby! Neecole's arms are crossed petulantly, and Julie Delpy's face has a weird plastic sheen to it. She looks, as a matter of fact, totally awful. Neecole claims that her mother remarried and her stepfather wanted to be rid of her. "I guess you have an answer for everything," Abby snipes. "I guess you think everything's your business," Neecole shoots back. She argues that Abby, rather than being concerned about Luka's emotional state, actually hates the idea of him being happy with someone else. Abby bites her lip and doesn't disagree, which is interesting. "I know what won't make him happy," she finally says. "A made-up life. If this is all for real, that's great. Go for it. But if it's not, he's going to figure it out. He's not stupid." Not that Neecole would know this -- Luka's been stupid since she met him, so why would she assume there's any working brain under all that hotness? Neecole narrows her eyes and glares very hard at Abby, then flounces out of the lounge.
Weaver awkwardly thanks Sandy for saving her life during The Storm. "No sweat," Sandy breezes. Weaver busies herself with some supplies to avoid both her urge to mount and her mounting urge to lose herself in Sandy. "Crazy job," Weaver says. "Haven't met too many female firefighters." Sandy proudly notes that she's the only woman in company B, and calls herself one of the guys. She grins. Weaver timidly offers to examine Sandy's wounded hand, but Sandy smiles that she doesn't like doctors, and slinks away with a suggestive, "Maybe some other time."
Mark flees to Rudy's frantically beeping life monitors and asks Gallant what went wrong. Apparently, Rudy stopped breathing and his blood pressure shot up to 230/120. Mark hunches over near Rudy's head, and Papa Escalona huddles to him, completely in the way. I don't know enough about actual hospitals to decide whether it's inappropriate that he's so omnipresent, or totally normal. Me, I'd be in the waiting room avoiding all signs of blood and guts and fluid seepage. And it's never fun to see panicked doctors working on a loved one, especially when said doctor simultaneously takes a phone call from his daughter. Mark doesn't touch the phone, at least; instead, Haleh relays to Mark that Rachel just wants to check in, and Mark yells via Haleh that Elizabeth will be home by six. Lily assists with some meds, but Rudy deteriorates into V-tach. Papa Escalona freaks out, but isn't kicked out. Dude, leave! Mark charges the paddles to 200.
As Elizabeth strolls toward Donna in Trauma Green, Luka eagerly asks if she's familiar with a slightly unusual procedure for harvesting organs after the patient's heart has stopped. In it, the patient is escorted to the OR and taken off the ventilator so that the body dies naturally. Organs remain viable for up to two minutes after the heart arrests. "She's dead either way," argues Elizabeth nonsensically. Of course she is. She will have no innards. That complicates the process of living. She's missing the point -- namely, that Ray wants Donna to die naturally before her heart is torn out and drop-kicked toward someone else's chest. Luka explains this, and swears that Ray will only consent to the organ donation if this semi-radical approach is employed. "You know that for a fact?" snips Elizabeth. "You presented it to him?" Luka shrugs. Neecole interrupts, because she's more important than people with actual, non-self-inflicted problems. With a gesture, Luka asks her to wait, then sits back and takes it as Elizabeth reams him for consulting Ray without her. "You're not the one who needs approval for an unconventional procedure, nor are you the one going to have to do it," she rages, leaving in a tizzy. I'm with her on that, actually, although she's awfully quick to be grouchy about things. Says the evil cynic. ["Actually, it seems like Elizabeth grouches at Luka a lot. She grouched at him about that transplant candidate from Season Six, and she squalled at him a couple of weeks ago about the consult. I think she's bitter because he's hot and she still married the nebbish. Anyway." -- Sars] Luka sighs, turns to Neecole, and ushers her away so they can chat.
Ralph and Alice trail Carter through the hospital to an exam room, with Alice tightly attached to a rolling IV. She complains about it, but Carter insists that she needs it, "and if I'm right, you might even need emergency meds." Ralph frets that someone will catch them in the act, which is our first overt clue that Carter's seeking out a place for the Honeymooners to make whoopee in the name of medical science. He's beaming. He's so proud of his diagnosis, so thrilled that he's getting away with mischief, and so tingly that he's getting vicarious ass. Carter finds a closet or a room of some kind and notes that it locks from the inside, throwing open the door triumphantly. Ralph turns green. "Is that what I think it is?" he sputters. Carter wheels around and spies a corpse tightly wrapped in a sheet. He tries to summon Malik to move it, but the nurse is called away to an emergency, leaving a sickened couple and an anxious Carter staring nervously at the body. "It'll be fine," Carter insists.
Mark ups the paddle charge to 360, but Rudy isn't reviving, having lingered in asystole for forty-five minutes. Jorge and Papa Escalona watch from outside, finally out of the way. Mark wants Gallant to continue compressions, because he's going to notify the family before calling time of death.
"Rudy hasn't had a heartbeat in almost an hour," Mark begins. Papa Escalona isn't pleased. Mark explains that Rudy had a massive hemorrhage, which damaged the part of the brain that controls the heart. "You said you could fix it," chokes Papa. Patiently, Mark explains that it all happened too quickly, and all the drugs and resuscitation techniques they've tried have failed spectacularly. "Do you want to say goodbye before we stop?" he inquires gently. Papa, upset, accepts his son's fate and inches inside the trauma room. Jorge is more reluctant, but his face is frozen in a mask of vacancy. I totally don't care about him. Rudy's been a more endearing actor, and his part has consisted of babbling two sentences and then lying on a board with his eyes closed. "You fought hard, Rudy," Papa blubbers. "I'm proud of you." The man rubs his son's buzz-cut head and collapses against it, sobs shuddering through his body. "We love you, mijo," he weeps, using the contracted form of mi hijo, or "my son." Jorge tenses visibly. "Shut up!" he shouts. "Shut up, shut up! Can you hear me? Shut up!" He storms out of the trauma room, leaving his crying father alone with his grief. Well, alone but for Gallant and Lily, who obediently keep up with compressions and pumping oxygen into Rudy's body. "Let us know when you want us to stop," Mark says, leaving after this egregious misuse of the royal "us." I swear Gallant gives him a look that indicates he agrees with me, and that Mark is a big ol' delegating slacker, but perhaps I'm fantasizing again.
Since this is where the commercials fall, I feel comfortable interjecting that I'm watching Letterman as I type, and Noah Wyle seriously just said something close to this: "I'm continually amazed that, despite our best efforts, [ER is] still on the air." He was being self-effacing, but I laughed out loud. For a long time.
During the commercial break, Luka and Neecole wandered to a scenic bench, because life-altering conversations tend to be easier when they take place in a pretty setting. The blue screen is obvious and awful, but I'm not going to harp on it, as I think it's plausible that ER scotched its plans to shoot on location because of September 11. Although that doesn't excuse the staff's complete lack of finesse with a fairly standard TV and film trick. Luka leans against a railing while Neecole perches uncomfortably on the bench, staring at the skyline and hoping for snow so that she can see Chicago blanketed in white. "Yeah, it's pretty, until your car won't start," Luka giggles, looking happy for the first time all season -- well, except for two seconds in the premiere, when he thought Abby was moving in with him. Neecole ponders shoveling sidewalks for money, but Luka suggests that she stop working and take care of herself and the baby, because he's got her expenses covered. Staring at her hands, Neecole claims she's spoken to a friend who might have a job for her. "That was quick," Luka rejoices, genuinely excited for her. "He's opening a café in Montreal, and he wants me to help run it," Neecole continues, unable to look at Luka's falling face. Why did she make that idiotic comment about Chicago in the snow, if she was planning all along to move to Montreal? I wonder if she's testing him somehow. Luka, stunned, blurts that he can't move to Montreal.
Slowly, Neecole begins the break-up speech, praising his generosity -- but there's a really strange gleam of defiance, almost anger, in Julie Delpy's eyes. She often gives me the impression that she isn't sure what she's doing, or where she is. "Are you saying that's it?" Luka gapes. "You could leave like that?" He begs her to wait and chat at length with him when his shift ends, but Neecole rises determinedly and lies that she'll call him in a couple days. Softly, Luka breathes that he thought they had the same feelings. "You're a good person," Neecole says. "But you talked yourself into loving me." He did? Where has this story been playing out? Is there a late-night spin-off airing on UPN, in which Luka is a divorced guy raising three Croatian nephews with Neecole The Sultry French Au Pair and a whole passel of wacky consequences? Seriously, this scene makes no sense. The writers spent the entire season actively not showing any of the Luka/Neecole bonding, romance, and subsequent sex; now, suddenly, we're supposed to care about their break-up? My interest in Luka, though strongly fueled by his hotness and the fact that Carol broke his heart, still isn't strong enough for this pittance of a scene to sustain me. It's possible that much of the storyline got cut when episodes were edited for time, but really, I think there's almost too much of it missing for that to be true. Like, say, all of it. End rant.
Luka tells Neecole that he made her an OB appointment, but she gulps and claims it isn't necessary, because it isn't pregnant. Man, I totally wrote "it" instead of "she" by accident, but I'm leaving my pronoun error because Neecole is little more than a thing to me, a convenient plot device with a kicky accent intended to add the charm that the writers could not. Luka can't believe what he's hearing from her. "I felt safe for the first time in a long time," Neecole explains. "I didn't want to lose you, so I made it up." Her eyes flicker around nervously, and as she apologizes and repeats the last part of her sentence, Neecole flees. Just like that. Which means it's not over, and she probably is pregnant, or if she isn't, she's heading out to get pregnant by someone else and then come crawling back to The Croatian Sensation for love, money, support, and soft sheets.
While Carter teaches Gallant to suture -- on a wary older man, I might add -- he hears disruptive banging noises and lies that plumbers are working on the pipes. But then we hear moaning. Either this is an erotic plumber, or there's unauthorized nookie afoot. Carter notices Susan approaching The Whoopee Room and bolts for the door, blocking it. "Who's in there?" she asks suspiciously. "My allergy patient. And her husband," he confesses. Susan's aghast, but in a good way, that Carter's letting them take up a whole room so they can have sex. "I'm conducting a clinical trial," he insists. "They're young, aroused, they want their answer now…" Susan snorts, and wonders whether Weaver knows her ER has turned into a brothel. "It's not a brothel if they're married," Carter argues. When I get married, that's going on a plaque over my door.
At the desk, there's another tiny mix-up, this time between the Escalona brothers' files. Abby thinks Susan is caring for Rudy, but she's actually on Jorge, and Mark is Rudy's physician. He passes and snatches the lab results from Abby's hand. I can't decide if the confusion is going to tie into something later, or if it's a ham-handed attempt at comedy. I dearly want to leave it out, but I'm afraid to in case it turns out to be important.
Mark hurries to Jorge and Papa Escalona, waving test results that show high levels of the stimulant ephedra in Rudy's blood. Papa swears that Rudy doesn't take any such training supplements, but Jorge confesses that Rudy did drink Beta-Morph sometimes. Papa is horrified. Jorge spits that it's easy to get -- being over-the-counter and all -- and Rudy wanted to chug a six-pack of it before sparring Jorge, just so he could finally compete. Mark reveals that the drink hiked up Rudy's blood pressure to dangerous levels, rupturing a blood vessel. "Why would he do it?" gasps Papa. "For you, Dad!" screams Jorge. I'm sorry. I can't do this. I feel steeped in subplot. Jorge blathers about paternal pressure and stage-parents, blah blah pressure snore blah champion blah drool yawp Rudy wasn't tough enough. Jorge tries to quit boxing. "You were born with a gift!" shouts Papa. "No! Here's your gift!" Jorge snaps, punching the wall and busting a hole in it. Papa stares at his son's bloodied hand and looks more put out at the ruined plaster than his child's ruined knuckles. Also…does anyone out there buy that they're father and son? Papa looks more like he's related to Frank.
Divorce Court. Benton and Roma sit impatiently in the hall during the recess, the former complaining that Eyebrows is spinning everything his way. "We'll get it back on your testimony," Roma promises. Suddenly, Jackie appears. She couldn't sit idly by while Benton fought alone for Reese, so she decided to show up where he specifically asked her not to be. Benton glumly reveals that Roger looks like an angel. "I asked him to help out with Reese a couple of times, [and] he made it seem like it happens all the time," he gripes, pacing to the water fountain for refreshment. Eyebrows and Roger round the corridor corner and pass between Benton and Jackie, conveniently barring him from restraining his mouthy sister. "Leave us alone!" she implores Roger, grabbing him. "Stop it, and tell the truth!" Roma half-heartedly tells Jackie to back off. Jackie isn't hysterical; rather, she's beseeching, confusedly pleading with Roger to come to his senses. But she's become an irritating character, as if TPTB want to keep Khandi Alexander on staff but can't be bothered to make her likable anymore. Much of this feels like her fault, given her insistence that Roger should be phased out of Reese's life. "Get your own family!" she booms. Roger throws up his hands. "He got us here," Roger seethes. "His choice." Jackie rambles about Reese belonging to them, sounding totally off her rickety rocker and basically making it hard for anyone to claim she's a stable influence on her own toaster, much less a young child. Benton wrestles her away from the courtroom door, through which Roger has disappeared.
Carter eavesdrops on his porking patients, then spies Susan sitting in the room. She's got paperwork spread out on a bed, but she's staring off into space, clearly listening to the thumping and groaning. Carter calls her on it, and Susan almost jumps out of her clogs. She covers by saying she's just catching up on paperwork. "You usually chart in admit, or in the lounge," he points out. Hello, stalker. Susan defends her right to chart wherever she likes, and insists she doesn't need to get her kicks from aural sex. Abruptly, the banging stops. "Think she's okay?" Susan gasps, scampering to the exam-room door. Carter smirks and taps on the window. Mark passes by with a frown, sternly wearing his "what's all this, then?" face. "Ask Carter," Susan giggles. Carter shrugs. Gallant stifles a snicker. Mark glares.
But Mark shakes off his irritation and visits Jorge's room, telling the pained boy that he broke his hand's fifth metacarpal. "Damn," he sighs unconvincingly. Gallant calls it a boxer's fracture. Thanks for that, but FedEx already came today and brought me the point. Jorge will wear a cast for six weeks. Chuny interrupts to grab Mark for another incoming case; Gallant is left to finish up with Jorge, then rebuild and whitewash the Escalonas' ruptured fences. Jorge spits up a sob story about his father's youth that involves Cuba, emigration, boxing, two broken hands, and the mythical "they" that preys upon poor lost souls and shatters their bones. Gallant psychoanalyzes that clearly, Papa pushes his sons so hard to make up for his own ruined career and wasted promise; Jorge looks touched, and it's obvious how this one's going to end.
Ralph and Alice couldn't finish their sex. They broke the ratcheting screwdriver. "Maybe you just need a little break," Carter suggests with an air of desperation. Susan scolds him. Ralph uncomfortably swears that he's never had problems riding the tide before, and blames it on the fact that they basically had a passive threesome with a corpse. Bummed, Carter orders them to stick with condoms until they can try again under the proper supervision. "I never used to be allergic to sperm," Alice muses, like she's some sort of cum connoisseur. Carter clarifies that it's the semen, not the sperm. Alice asks what might cause this. "Multiple sex partners," Carter suggests. What? No. So if I keep eating chocolate, I'll become allergic to it? Damn this world! Susan asks if Alice has slept with more than ten people, and Alice bites her tongue and moseys guiltily out of the exam room. Ralph flips. "I thought it was just me and Kenny Markowitz!" he says, flustered. "What else haven't you told me?" Oh, ha ha, not. Carter praises Susan's dreadful diplomacy, but she blames the whole mess on his diagnosis instead. "No," he insists. "I bring people together, Susan." She chuckles. "Oh yeah, you and Cupid," she flirts, laughing too hard.
Carter gets called away by a paramedic. He follows the new patient into a trauma room and gets the bullet: the sixteen-year-old male fell ten feet from a lamppost. Mark arrives, and Carter asks him to "Doppler the foot"; Mark promptly grabs it and deems it clear of warm fronts and low-pressure systems, but predicts a chilly weekend with possible snow flurries. A cop exposits that the rapscallion was arrested for trying to steal street signs; his female buddy wasn't injured, and is waiting inside the cop car. If all this seems fuzzy to anybody, then you need laser surgery. Obviously, they sit the kid up, and obviously, it's Andrew; obviously, Mark doesn't look at him until the last possible second. Andrew's hair is wild as can be. He looks like a rebellious Peter Pan.
The cop leads Mark outside and points to Rachel, who is sitting in the paddy wagon and trying to hide her trident and horns. She isn't under arrest; the cop just likes to mess with young minds before delivering them home to their angry parents. Mark wants her released to his custody immediately.
As Weaver exits and bids farewell to an elderly patient, Sandy appears and timidly asks if she can get her hand examined after all. She jammed it rolling some hose. That's going to be a fabulous euphemism for a future recap. Weaver glows and ushers Sandy inside, eager to have an ER-sanctioned excuse for some hand-holding and footsie.
At Divorce Court, Benton takes the stand. It's revealed that his shifts often extend for twelve hours, and he frequently works nights and weekends. Casually, with that annoying air of familiarity and friendliness assumed by twerp attorneys, Eyebrows asks Peter to describe what typically happens when a gunshot victim arrives in the ER. Peter answers that he evaluates that patient and sends him or her to the OR when necessary. Eyebrows wants to know how long it takes to operate on person who's been shot in the chest, so that he can shoot someone, send them to Benton, and win the case by tying up the defendant in surgery. Benton explains that it all depends on the path of the bullet, the amount of vascular damage, and a mess of other factors; I think he's showing off and deliberately not answering the question directly. Eyebrows asks if this could take an hour; Benton guesses three, but when pressed, admits that in rare cases it can take five hours to operate on a case like this. Naturally, this is when Eyebrows calls into question the suitability and stability of Reese's substitute caretakers -- the people watching Reese while Benton is detained in surgery. "Cleo is very good with Reese," Benton begins. "We've already covered that," Eyebrows says, not quite under his breath. We rehash that Jackie often picks up the boy and cooks for him. "Jackie's like a mother to Reese these last few months," Peter simpers, ignoring how totally creepy and incestuous that sounds. But at least it's overt, as opposed to the discreet incest being committed by Mark and Elizabeth. Eyebrows raises his and reveals that he's aware Jackie wasn't too receptive to spending time with Reese right after Carla died. This leads to the non-reveal that Jackie's son Jesse was killed recently. Eyebrows casually queries about Jesse's gang ties, which wins an objection from Roma that she loses again. She's the worst lawyer in the world. She'll be in Boston working for Fish & Cage in no time.
When Eyebrows asks how Jackie is coping with Jesse's death, Benton begins to crack. He complains that the questions aren't related to his fitness as a parent, although they are relevant because Jackie had better be stable and reliable if he's going to leave Reese with her so often. Roma objects all over the place. And? Loses. Eyebrows forges ahead, asking if Jackie's seeing a psychiatrist for situational depression and pathological grieving. "She lost her SON," Peter bellows, faced with a similar tragedy himself. "Is [that condition] currently being managed by medications whose side effects include insomnia, sedation and anxiety?" Eyebrows continues. Benton freaks. "Gentlemen!" Judge Alter yells, banging the gavel enthusiastically, because he's only been able to do it once until now. And here, Benton loses his cool completely. "Why don't you ask me what kind of father I am?" he seethes. "Why don't you ask me about how I was there when he was born prematurely, how I stayed in the hospital in the NICU watching over him, making tough decisions and praying over him day and night? Why don't you ask me that?" Roma rockets out of her chair and begs the judge for a recess. "No, why don't you ask me about Reese?" Benton rants. "So I can tell you that there's nothing more important to me in this world than my son? Why don't you ask me that?" Quite frankly, because none of that helps your case at all, Peter. That's what cross-examination is all about. Fair play? Not so much. Roger is stunned at the outburst, the judge looks disapproving, Eyebrows exhales happily, and Benton glares. Cleo tries to do something, but she couldn't wake up from EnergySaver mode in time.
Roma is furious. "You can't let that happen again," she fumes to Benton outside the courtroom. Cleo defends Peter, noting that he was thoroughly provoked, but Roma doesn't care because Benton's only job was to keep cool, and he failed. "I said what I had to say," Benton pouts. Roma snarks that she hopes it made him feel better, because it also shot their case in the chest, and as we all just found out, that requires a long operation. Cleo asks Roma what the judge said in his chambers; apparently, he saw fit to reveal his bias, which right now is with Roger because of his impressive availability. "I'm available to Reese," protests Peter. Words aren't enough, though; Roma bitches that Peter's long hours at work are crippling their case. She wants him to shift his priorities and make tough choices, which presumably means reconsidering his line of work. So obviously, all you aspiring doctors out there have no business starting a family. This plotline is brought to you by the makers of Ortho Tri-Cyclen.
Rachel sulks in a dark exam room. Mark enters quietly and demands to know how well acquainted she is with Andrew. "What's that mean?" she snaps. To the surprise of no one, Andrew tested positive for marijuana; Mark reveals this as he hands Rachel a copy of the tox screen's results. Rachel brats that she thought these things were confidential. She's a wench, but she's right. Maybe she'll blow the whistle, and then blow out of town. Rachel swears she wouldn't smoke, and doesn't appreciate it when Mark places a small cup on the table in front of her. "Good, then you'll test negative," he says. "Are you serious?" Rachel gapes. They bicker about whether she deserves his trust, and she feeds him all kinds of excuses as to why she rode home with Andrew -- she missed the bus, she couldn't prevent him from stopping, and she didn't want to bother Mark. Given that he didn't talk to her when she called earlier, but shouted messages through Haleh, I can see why she might feel that way -- but she's a tweak, so I refuse to validate her any further. "You want me to pee in a cup?" she says, still amazed. "Yep," Mark answers grimly. Good for him.
As Gallant passes, her, Abby grabs him and says that Rudy's due in the morgue, so he needs to get the decedent packet from Frank. She then spies Luka returning from his brooding break, and flags him down on the pretense of having treated one of his patients. "Everything okay?" she pushes. "She's leaving town," Luka says curtly. He doesn't know why. "What about the baby?" Abby noses. "There is no baby," he spits, leaving before Abby can say those four little words: time, think, dumb-ass. But she doesn't delight in his misery.
Again with the confusion! Now, Susan chases down Abby to ask why she tried to discharge a patient prematurely. Somehow, they decide that Carter's messy writing didn't stay between the lines and confused Abby. That transparent board looks like a total nightmare. Do hospitals actually use those? They look impossible to read even at close range. Might as well use a pinned-up sheet of loose-leaf and a Bic.
As Benton arrives, fresh from court, he yells to Carter that one of his patients has returned. Sure enough, it's Ralph and Alice. "We followed our bliss," he says. "To our pick-up truck," Alice adds, glowing. She's on a gurney and has begun scratching anew; Susan offers to get her started while Carter contemplates gloating. Buoyed by his success, Carter bumps Peter in a friendly way and compliments his dapper suit, asking where he's been all day. He should check his airway for toe fungus -- last time Carter and a suit shared a plotline, Abby pulled the embarrassing "Nice suit -- who died?" routine. Ouch. RIP, Gampa Carter. Peter, in clipped tones, shares that he was in court all day. Carter asks if it was related to a patient, and Benton sort of brushes him off, but not rudely. Frank saves the moment by summoning Benton to the OR.
Papa Escalona finishes his paperwork with a flourish, and Gallant approaches to inform him that the nurses can make arrangements with the funeral home. "We used Rose Hills when his mother died," Papa muses. "But I never thought that…" Gallant plays therapist again; even though it's too late for me to care about this time-gobbling subplot, Papa waxes poetic about how much Rudy made everyone smile. They arrive at Rudy's dead body; Jorge sadly clasps his brother's cold hand. "I didn't mean to lose my temper," frets Papa. Gallant convinces Papa that his son might be ready to talk, and might be surprisingly sympathetic; Papa nods slowly and enters the room. Gallant watches as Jorge drops Rudy's hand, looks into his father's grieving eyes, and finally bursts into tears, throwing himself into Papa's outstretched arms. As they cry together, Gallant smiles slightly and leaves, content that he's turned Rudy's death into a total blessing.
Elizabeth runs up to Benton and informs him that her nanny leaves at six, so she has to get home, and exposits that the transplant teams are en route to collect Donna's organs. She tells a mildly surprised Benton that Romano has approved the unorthodox harvesting procedure, but that Ray needs a bit more reassurance despite having already consented to it. "Elizabeth, you had him for twelve hours, you deal with it," Benton gripes. Actually, she only had him for less than ten, because she arrived twenty minutes late and is leaving so she can arrive home close to 6 PM. She insists Ray preferred to speak with the actual operating surgeon, not explaining why she can't operate and just suck it up and work late. Oh, I forgot -- it's because her fitness as a parent isn't under scrutiny. Yet.
Benton introduces himself to Ray, who has camped out in the lobby with his sleeping daughter. Peter reassures the man that the procurement teams will be there imminently, and they can put all this behind them. "She doesn't understand," Ray babbles. "I can't handle this alone." Benton groans inside and intones, "You'll do the best you can."
As Sandy perches on a bed, Weaver sits opposite her and examines the hand wound. "I thought you were supposed to be on light duty," admonishes Weaver knowingly. She lightly busts Sandy for working despite orders not to, and then assures her that the wound isn't infected. They stare at each other until Kerry breaks away and sputters, "So, is, uh, Captain Devlin still at the seven-five?" Sandy knows the name. Kerry rambles about the bar all those guys used to frequent, but the topic falls flat, so she tells Sandy to return in four days to get the stitches removed. "I know where to find you," Sandy says huskily, her eyes aglow and a tentative smile twitching on her lips. Kerry clears her throat and, visibly nervous, asks Sandy if she wants to do something. "Something?" Sandy ponders, clearly aware of what's going on and enjoying the heat of it. "Lunch, or…a movie, or ice fishing," Kerry chuckles. "Like, go out?" Sandy presses, laughing gently with Kerry. Her eyes darting upwards uncomfortably, Kerry blushes but keeps her voice steady. "Yeah," she says. "Unless I'm totally off base here." Sandy grins, the attraction plain. "No, no, you're on base," she breathes. The way they're shining, this might as well have been a sex scene.
Mark revisits his pouting daughter, who defiantly reads a magazine instead of acknowledging her father's presence. ["Anyone else notice that she was turning the pages in the wrong direction, from right to left? It could have been on purpose but it just looked like bad blocking to me." -- Sars] Mark reveals that her drug test came back negative. "Don't look so disappointed," Rachel tells Mark and me. Mark sits down opposite the hellion his loins begat and gives her the speech about how much he cares, and how he had to do this because her safety seemed at risk. Rachel refuses to look at him. "I want to be able to trust you," he insists. "It's something we both have to work at." Pursing her lips, Rachel snippily asks to leave.
Benton encounters Dr. Robert "Needs A Love Interest" Romano as he prepares to cut open Donna. They exposit that they'll take the heart first, and we are reminded that the organs are viable for up to two minutes after Donna's death. Benton switches off the ventilator at 20:37 -- wait, wasn't it just six o'clock? -- and watches the monitors with baited breath.
Susan and Carter sip coffee on the roof. She thinks Ralph and Alice are sweet, but what's really sweet is that hip black coat with the Burberry cuffs! Available now at all fine retailers near you, and integral to your wardrobe if you want to bed a young M.D. like Carter. Seriously, was Susan's coat two weeks ago reversible, or did a Burberry giant clip its fingernails in her apartment? Carter grins that Alice can safely get pregnant through artificial insemination, and they flirt about the oddball brilliance of his diagnosis. Susan gets giggly about sex in a pick-up truck. "It had a camper shell," Carter says importantly. Susan thinks it's funny, but isn't too weirded out, recalling her own bizarre sexual encounter on a Ferris Wheel. "I was young," she says, laughing at Carter's awed reaction. "It was my first real boyfriend." But not her first sex, I hope, or else that was one messy ride. Yikes. But Carter ups the too-much-information factor by sharing a story about masturbating on a train to Seattle. "I was by myself, but it was memorable," he says. Susan is understandably aroused -- any woman would be, because of course there's nothing sexier or more attractive than a man vigorously tugging the twig, impregnating all the Kleenex he can find.
Okay, I'm back; I had to leave briefly, because looking at Carter made me slightly uncomfortable. He cocks his head as Susan drinks her coffee and makes a benign comment about the weather. They agree to go inside, but pause after standing up. This is, I think, their first moment alone since that night by the pool. Susan looks appropriately nervous, because she clearly knows Carter will try something; for his part, Carter is inquisitive, but you can spot the moment he decides to make his move. The moment is perfect up to this point, but the kiss itself is colder than Niagara Falls. It's incredible how the ER chemists can suck the spark out of any twosome just by making them press their lips together. It looks like a lousy kiss, and I hope one of them has the guts to refer to it as such later on in the relationship. They finish, and Susan sighs, "Carter," and for a second it sounds like she's going to dump and discourage him. He jokingly asks if she has any strange allergies, and Susan laughs, then leans in for a repeat. The second tongueless wonder is slightly less chilly than the first, but still seems rotten. They come up for air, and Carter is about to go for something deeper when he knocks over his coffee, spilling it. This is symbolic. Susan breaks away and doubles over, guffawing.
Romano bursts impatiently into the OR. An hour has passed, and Donna isn't dead yet. "How inconsiderate," he grouses. "Page me when she goes." God, the man had five lines at the most, and he's uniformly excellent. Love it. Benton spies Ray watching sadly through the OR doors, and compassionately murmurs, "Let's…just wait." As the camera pulls away from the operating table, the gang waits patiently for Donna to pass away naturally, fulfilling a broken man's wish for his dying wife.