In case you, like so many others, have stopped watching this show, Dr. Romano's arm got severed and then reattached, but it's been malfunctioning lately. His poor attitude, diminished skills, and complete inability to coordinate his arm sling with his snazzy OR kerchiefs prompted Anspaugh to propose that Romano and Weaver share the Chief of Staff job. Romano wasn't keen on this idea, though, because the last time he was keen on something, it ignored him and married a bald, tumored eunuch. So, Weaver gets the title outright. Also, Chen and Susan went to Vegas. The show doesn't mention it in the previously-on, but there's also some ambiguity as to Carter and Abby's romantic status.
Dr. Kerry "Meet The New Boss" Weaver enters a darkened office full of boxed-up memorabilia. From one crate, she picks up a model rocket and studies it curiously, wondering if this is yet another hint from the mysterious dildo dropper. "That was a gift," a voice says, snapping on the light. It's Dr. Robert "Same As The Old Boss" Romano, and that's his rocket Weaver's fondling. Somehow, I don't think this is the action Romanophiles were hoping he'd get in his office. "From a grateful patient?" she asks. "Grateful girlfriend," he corrects. That thud you hear is the collective faint of every poster in the Paul McCrane thread. Weaver babbles that she would've waited to clear out his office, but she's got meetings scheduled all day to distract her from laughter welling up in her throat at fact that "Chief of Staff" is not just a job title but a hilarious euphemism -- and, let's face it, probably Chen's nickname in med school. Romano doesn't buy that Weaver wasn't positively itching to take over his office. Weaver promises to send all the office contents to his home.
A cute guy interrupts to bring in the maintenance men who are hanging a painting. "What happened to Brenda?" Romano asks. "She, uh, seemed unwilling to make the transition," Weaver coughs. Aw, loyalty to Robert. Sweet. Fatal, of course, but sweet. Either Weaver fired that woman smart-quick, or Romano dragged his feet in clearing out the office. Romano bitterly regards Weaver's artwork. "I always hated the impressionists..." he begins. "It's a lateral move, Robert," Weaver sighs. "...All that sugar-coating of the truth," Romano finishes pointedly. Weaver insists that this wasn't her idea. "Strange, because this little power play smacks of a certain estrogen-based malice I've grown all too familiar with over the years," he says casually. Weaver turns and, hand on hip, wishes Robert would appreciate that they're doing him a favor. "What you're doing is bending me over and driving it up the chocolate highway," he snorts. Charming. Generally, I strongly believe the word "chocolate" should not be used in vain, and so this moment was particularly difficult for me. Although I'd endure a thousand of them per episode for a week free of toe tomfoolery. But I digress. Weaver rants that Romano is a terrible administrator, a human-resources nightmare, and -- lest he forget -- a one-handed surgeon, and I'm not sure if it's the prospect of seeing Luka soon or that I'm ten, but I'm laughing right now because "doing some one-handed surgery" also makes a good sexual euphemism. Romano smiles tightly at Weaver during her speech, his eyes empty. "You're lucky you have options at all," she says. "Oh, you're suggesting that I have some," he nods, peeved. "You do," she snaps. "It's this, it's teaching, or it's out." Romano stares at her for a second, then chooses "out" -- of her office, anyway.
In the hall, Romano blows past everybody. Jacy has a call for him that he refuses. "What should I tell them?" she asks. "That I don't work here anymore," he says stiffly, boarding the elevator.
The Muzak is "Raindrops Keep Fallin' On My Head," and Romano looks aptly drenched in self-pity as the elevator descends from the fourth floor to the first. When the door opens, it's total chaos. Phones ring shrilly. Patients shout. Wheelchairs squeak. Babies scream. I swear, the ER is only ever this loud when someone's getting off an elevator. It's apparent that Romano has not, in fact, chosen to quit entirely, but will be replacing Kerry as the ER Chief. Considering how much Romano hates the ER, this indicates to me that his attachment to medicine overrides his hatred for Weaver and his disappointment in this situation. And that fact -- that he chose the ER simply because it kept him doctoring -- doesn't really gel too well with his behavior the rest of the episode, which is to say, blasé and careless and shitty to patients, and generally like a guy who wants to get fired.
So begins Romano's tirade against all breathing beings in the ER. The first target is Michael "Help, Help, I'm Being Repressed" Gallant, wheeling an old woman up to X-Ray. Romano rails at him for doing an orderly's job. "Park Granny and go help someone drain an abscess or something," Romano spits. "You're a med student. If you're not doing scut, you're not doing squat." Gallant is speechless. , Romano storms past Dr. Luka "Gerard Depardieu" Kovac. "Hey, Green Card," he snarls. "I want all your performance evals by day's end." Luka blinks. "Why?" he asks. "I want something to read when I'm on the can," sasses Romano. "Why do you think, Igor? You're on my hit list." I feel like it's a little late for that, but fine, whatever, we've got a long way to go here. Romano turns to Abby "It's My Show And I'll Hog It If I Want To" Lockhart and suggests that they switch scrubs suppliers to a company that makes pants "that hug booty better." She's shocked at how appallingly wrong the word "booty" sounds coming out of his mouth.
Romano rages toward a Hispanic family with Haleh. "Great news! Piñatas out in the parking lot! ¡Andale!" he shouts. Haleh -- who has lost way too much weight -- snaps that the family's there to support one of the kids. "Well, they need to stop having kids," he snarls, threatening to fire her if they're not gone immediately, and then changing his mind and firing her outright. "You can't fire nurses," Haleh offers boredly. "I just did," he says glibly. "Hey, Pituitary Boy!" This, it seems, is Jerry, on Rocket's harangue of terror. Although Romano follows it up with a lame joke that basically amounts to "nyah, nyah, stinkypants," and the potential horror of the moment is replaced with pity at his poor joke and a strong dose of "I know you are but what am I?" Romano orders Jerry to get him a list of every staff member's salary, including Jerry's own, and blazes a trail of fury into the doctor's lounge. Dr. Susan "Owner of a Lonely Heart" Lewis looks slightly amused and wholly bemused. "Meet the new boss," sighs Carter.
Rocket bursts right back out into Reception. "Get rid of this coffee machine in here," he shouts. "You losers can make your own java!" And with that, Susan totally turns to her right and cracks up. It's a full-on laugh -- no concern, no shock, just abject amusement, and I find myself wondering if Paul McCrane improvised that last line and caught Sherry Stringfield by enough surprise to break her up. We smash into the credits wondering if the small family of tarantulas that had taken up residence in Romano's rear end finally died of suffocation.
Dr. Jing-Mei "SpongeDeb SpoogeStain" Chen and Dr. Greg "Money Shot" Pratt stroll the street, the former bitching that it's so cold there. You'd think, being the apparent opposite of frigid, Chen would be able to warm herself up a little better. She wishes she lived in Florida. "You'd miss me," Pratt says cockily. Chuny passes them carrying a big pink box. "Dr. Chen, how many candles?" she yells. Chen gets all glowy. "Hey, I said no cake!" she fake-protests with one of those really smug "I can't help it if people adore me" smiles that makes me want to slap the extra year right off her. Pratt hands her a coffee and wishes her many happy returns. "Like you even knew," she scoffs affectionately. Pratt insists that he did, and that he got her something -- a romantic dinner with champagne. Chen's all impressed with the deep thought he put into this, which appears to have consisted solely of shaking coffee money out of the couch and visiting the commode with back issues of Glamour.
A street vendor -- who we later learn is named Kippy, and whose moniker we'll adopt early for ease of recapping -- appears in front of Pratt and Chen to hawk his lame wares. Chen declines politely. "Ladies love stuffed animals," Kippy insists, and while he's not lying, he's brandishing a squeaky purple monstrosity that's more "ugh" than "cuddlebug." Pratt decides to react with inappropriate hostility, as is his custom. Chen gives Kippy a handjob, as is her custom. No, just kidding, she didn't. She needs at least ten more minutes so she can get to know him. Pratt shoves Kippy away.
Dr. Elizabeth "Yup, Still Here" Corday gets out of her mini-van and kisses Ella goodbye, after noticing with head-shaking amusement the "Precious Cargo" sign her nanny applied to the car window. Kippy roughly shoves through the door and dangles the same stuffed animal in front of Ella, who has the good sense to shoot him a terrified, repulsed, teary-eyed glare of annoyance. It's so endearing, and clearly, Ella's every bit Elizabeth's daughter. Elizabeth shoves a stubborn Kippy away and slams the car door, urging her nanny to speed away. The nanny does, running over Kippy's foot in the process. They show the foot in close-up getting smushed, but when they cut to the long shot of Kippy writhing in agony, it looks like he's wearing different shoes. "My fooooooooot," he shrieks. Elizabeth doesn't seem annoyed at all -- she just stares at him, and then stares in the direction of her disappearing mini-van, almost as if she doesn't quite understand what just happened and yet paradoxically also is thinking, "Of course. Of course that just happened." It's a pretty funny expression.
Abby asks Jerry if Haleh really got fired. Jerry nods. "Management tool," he says importantly. "Always fire someone the first day. Lets them know who's boss." Luka appears and basically says that, as long as he gets severance pay, Romano can call himself king and make a scepter out of Luka's lower intestine. Carter appears to ask Abby to park a patient in Exam One, but she points out that Romano has taken over the room, apparently to make it into an office. How did he swing that? Wouldn't someone have to approve that? Maybe Weaver would, so maybe he doesn't give a shit. "Weaver never had an office," Carter snits. Jerry says he also threatened to take over the lounge. "And put our lockers where?" Abby asks. "Triage?" cracks Jerry. "Great, now our personal stuff can get stolen, too," Abby grumbles. Susan appears and says it's too late -- her locker's already been relieved of a pair of camel leather gloves. "Real leather?" Luka asks. "Yeah, why?" Susan asks warily. "Animals died to make them," Jerry intones, in what I think is a poor imitation of Luka's accent. I don't get this -- didn't know Luka objected to leather when he probably had leather bucket seats in the Dodge Penis -- but hey, fine, whatever, I'm tired. I give. Susan thinks it's annoying, too. "Yeah, right, and we should all wear canvas shoes," she spits.
Pratt and Chen lug in a wailing Kippy. Chen gives Carter the bullet. "How did this become your problem?" he asks. "Elizabeth decided he was an ER case," Chen says, sounding put-upon. "Typical," snorts Pratt. I don't get this either. When someone breaks a limb or somesuch in an accident, isn't he or she generally taken to the ER for treatment? You know, emergency treatment because it's an emergency situation? I...don't know. Pratt asks if they have open beds for Kippy, and a passing Romano crabs, "Only if he's a paying customer." Then Romano hops up on his bully pulpit and preaches the Gospel According To A Tightwad -- which is, namely, "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit all the emotional abuse that can be dished." He spits that an employee's lateness will be rewarded with a harsh letter in his or her file and docked pay. "Say goodbye to the warm fuzzies of the Weaver era, and hello to the age of efficiency and cost-effectiveness," he booms. "Once you do get to work on time, you will treat, you will street, and you will do so as quickly as humanly possible." Luka listens idly, chin in hand, waiting for his cue so that he can leave this scene and do something a little more interesting. Abby announces an incoming MedEvac chopper. Romano assigns Carter and Luka to it, ordering the other three attendings to clear the board and Jerry to get him a breakfast burrito. "'Please'?" Jerry prompts him. Romano stops. "Get your love at home," he growls. Practice what you preach, there, Chrome Dome. Oh wait, you can't.
Cut to the elevator. Luka stands on one side of the empty gurney, with Carter and Abby on the other, separated by at least half the length of the gurney and an enormous gulf of silence. The elevator music sounds like a love ballad gone horribly, horribly wrong, which is a pretty apt soundtrack for all three of the people in this scene. "Should be interesting," Luka blurts. The other two stare blankly at him. "Romano in charge," he clarifies. Carter responds by eloquently blowing into a latex glove. Abby seems to feel like this speaks for both of them. "Seen any movies lately?" Luka asks. "No," Carter says shortly. Silence. "Tried that sushi place on Navy Pier yet?" he asks. "No," Abby says. "It's good," Luka offers. Abby looks up at him for a second, then boredly plays with a strap on the gurney. Carter leans against the elevator wall and fixates on the ceiling. "Long time now," Luka says. "That you've been together. A year?" Abby exhales. "Almost," Carter says uncomfortably. "That's nice," Luka tries one last time before giving up. Abby rolls her eyes at him mildly before resuming her eyes-straight-ahead pose. Abby and Carter are so immature. I don't personally think this scene has anything to do with a resurrection of the supposed triangle; it's more that things are obviously strained with Carter and Abby, and who else to highlight that awkwardness but Luka, who used to date Abby and probably would totally get half of what their problem is? Luka already called her on what a miserable gloomy-guts she is. Luka and Carter need to go bowling. Strip bowling.
The elevator opens and our new MedEvac paramedic -- Donal Logue from Grounded For Life and The Tao of Steve -- hurtles out of the copter with a gurney. On it is John Rushing, thirty-seven, found on old Route 10 outside Pembroke. They suspect it was a hit-and-run. "Is Susan Lewis working today?" Donal asks. "Yeah, why?" they ask. But before they can get an answer, he's called away.
Rushing is deposited in Trauma Yellow, where they rifle through his wallet and establish that he's an accountant; he's from Indiana; and judging by the king-size condom, he's an optimist. Carter wonders aloud, and a tad suspiciously, why he was traversing the back roads of Illinois. "Maybe he was exercising," Abby suggests a bit defensively. "Not in loafers," Luka points out. Carter can't believe they found him out there at all. Romano enters and learns that Rushing is stable but unresponsive, with a possible broken clavicle. "This is why I went to med school -- so I could practice veterinary medicine," he gripes. Carter decides that they don't need a chest tube, but Romano wants to see whose figurative tube is bigger, so he grabs the Sonosite and checks himself. Jerry, meanwhile, bursts in with a call for Luka. "Not in the middle of a trauma," Carter brats. Um, since when, Carter? Since the last few times Abby got phone calls and dropped everything to take them, and you were fine with it? Well. That's nice. I'm glad Mr. Rushing is the beneficiary of the new rule, but you can bet if that call had come in for Abby from Minneapolis, Carter would've been like, "Take it, and also, here's thirty bucks for being pretty." The call is collect, from Zagreb. "Your dad?" Abby mouths. Luka shakes his head in consternation. By now, what with all the inactive gaping he's been doing over Rushing's body, he could've just taken the call and been done with it. "Gordana," Jerry supplies. Romano -- having determined that Carter was right -- throws the Sonosite at Abby and grabs the phone. "Don't ever call this number again," Romano barks, hanging up. Luka is pissed. "You want to chew the fat with the peasants back home, call 10-10-Call The Third World," Romano seethes, storming out. He has a point -- no calls during traumas is a fair rule -- but wow, that was a lame joke. If we turn on the Wood's Lamp, I think we'll see that the writers blew their collective wad before the credits. In the distant background we hear Carter call for c-spine, chest, and pelvis x-rays. "He needs a rectal," we barely hear Luka say as the door swings shut, and it's really funny, because he's staring right at Romano when he says it, and the writers win back some dignity for that subtle little jab. Also, a Word Smoothie to that, Luka.
Jerry, little mole that he is, tells Romano that he checked the union manual and learned that Romano can only file complaints with the nurse manager -- he can't fire nurses himself. "Fine, tell Hallie or whatever her name is that she can stay," he crabs. Jerry shrugs that she left already. "Good, good, then have her come back, but deduct for the time she was gone," he says, going all Mr. Burns. I'm bored of this already. He's gritchy. We get it. He orders Jerry to study all the manuals so that he can give a report on who Romano can pink-slip and for what reasons. It doesn't even make sense that Romano's being so tight-fisted. Aren't they already short-staffed? We've heard them complain about that before, and we've heard him announce that patient care needs to be lightning-quick, which I don't think can be achieved with a skeleton staff. He's being an idiot. Why did he have to become an idiot?
"Dr. Lewis," Romano says pleasantly, arriving to Susan at a patient's bed. "What's the story?" She introduces young Sammy, who got hold of his father's nail gun and apparently used it. "Who knew he'd use it as a weapon?" the man smiles weakly. Um, everyone? "He's a seven-year-old boy. Everything's a weapon," Romano retorts accurately. He starts to look at the wound, but Elizabeth appears, so Rocket bristles and beats a hasty retreat. "Apparently, Sammy didn't think it was loaded," Susan says. "No, I knew," Sammy nods. They all swap disturbed looks and decide to quit the scene as quickly as possible. Basically, the man is going to be fine, but for his general lack of common sense and his either terminally stupid or pathetically insane child. Elizabeth probably has to leave because it reminds her too much of Mark, who will never be so dead that he's off-limits for insults. "So, how's it going down here?" Elizabeth knowingly. "Wanna hear something crazy? I miss Weaver," Susan sighs.
In the lounge, Romano stares vacantly at the coffee machine. Elizabeth enters. "Fresh pot," Romano says lifelessly. "Enjoy it while you can." Pleasantly, Elizabeth asks how he's doing. He makes up something about how he's fine with the new digs and the terrible coffee, and refuses to look at her. "Look, I think it's awful, just to let you know," she says gently. "A waste, really, of your...skills, your talent...but I'm sure it'll be temporary." As nice as she sounds, it's kind of clear Elizabeth knows that his skills won't ever be what they once were, and that she's not entirely sure where he does fit in with the skills he has left. "Anything I can do to help?" she asks. Romano yanks open the refrigerator and a bunch of stuff tumbles out, and he acts all sullen, like the Arm of Doom was somehow responsible for all this despite the fact that he didn't try to use it. He fixes Elizabeth with a plaintive stare. "You can kill me now," he says sadly and seriously.
Mr. Rushing's tox screen came back clean, so no one has any clue as to how he ended up where he did. Abby informs Carter that she noticed he was wearing a wedding ring, so they're trying to track down Mrs. Rushing. They abruptly leave the trauma room together. "Did you know about it?" she asks. "What?" he asks, impatiently. "The Romano coup d'état," she replies. Carter brusquely says that he did not. "Does it mean anything?" she asks. "Yeah. We're screwed," he spits, heading off toward the front desk.
Weaver is on the phone. "Push the admin meeting to 4, and tell the alderman I'm out of the office," we barely hear her say. Nice little throwaway detail. As soon as she's done, Carter greets her, and she responds by dumping a pile of unfinished and hideously boring-sounding studies into his lap. He accepts them, but grudgingly, because Teacher gets bored of overeager pets. "So, how long is Romano going to be down here?" he asks, curiously. Weaver gulps, "What makes you think it's not permanent?" Carter duhs that to run the ER, you have to get along well with others and have certain clinical talents. "He is, uh, an experienced physician," Weaver says, fussing with some paperwork so as to avoid eye contact. Carter complains that Romano's background is in surgery. "John, you have to be the associate professor before you can be considered for department head," Weaver levels with him. Carter snorts that he's not after the job -- he just wants to avoid having to do someone else's. She stares after him for a second, then reaches for her crutch and finds it missing. "All right, which one of you smart-asses stole my crutch?" she bleats.
Luka speaks soft Croatian into the telephone. "I understand," I say. "I'll be there in an hour, and when I get there, you'd better not be wearing pants." Abby and Susan stroll outside, the former asking Susan conversationally if she has any plans that night. "Oh, me and this guy named TiVo," Susan grins. "You?" Abby shakes her head. "Nah," she says, a tad disappointed, I think. They stop where Luka is and look at him questioningly when he hangs up the phone. He explains that he went to med school in Croatia with Gordana, and she's treating a young boy with post-shunt tetrology with pulmonary atresia. Okay. Last time I checked, that translated to "yikes yikes lung yikes." Abby and Susan both cluck out an "Ooooh" to prove that my translation is correct. Basically, the tot needs extensive surgery that no one in Croatia is qualified to perform, so Luka has been on the phone all morning with his tailor trying to get his hero cape custom-made. He's interrupted by an incoming rig toting a junkie who dislocated his shoulder and fractured a rib while running. The junkie's annoying girlfriend insists that he's not high and that he'll be staying that way. Susan totally doesn't care. They wheel the junkie inside.
Pratt finds Kippy on the phone and busts him for being more mobile than he made himself out to be. "I hopped," Kippy shrugs. Pratt throws him some medicine and hisses, "Take two Tylenol every four hours, and get a real job." Chuny catches him to pass along that they're cutting Chen's cake at 3. Pratt wants Chuny's opinion on what to get Chen, because of course, he had no idea it was Chen's birthday -- or if he did, he's just a total prick, and really, this one could go either way. "It's got to be something she can wear, or what's the point?" Chuny grins. Romano charges through the scene and examines the board, only to discover that Pratt's "losing the dispo race." He assigns him two mundane cases, one of which involves intestines, as punishment. Pratt grins and bears it, for reasons beyond both my comprehension and his own, but there's no reason TPTB should start being consistent with characters now. "In second-to-last...Dr Lewis! Well, that's to be expected from one who has ovaries," Romano asses. Except that would mean Chen -- who not only has ovaries but has used them for their intended purpose -- is in first place. At least make them thoughtful insults, jackass. "And then of course there's Mr. Gallant, who's doing Cadillac workups on Yugo patients," Romano finishes.
Romano strolls over to Gallant, who is treating a patient with high blood pressure, and proceeds to demean everyone completely. Romano basically tells the patient that she's wasting their time, and that she should suck it up and take her medicine like the rest of the free world. "She's also diabetic, and her EKG..." Gallant begins. "Is totally unnecessary," Romano insists. He orders Gallant to give her sublingual nyphetophine, and no, I don't care if this is spelled right. Gallant gapes. "Need me to say it slowly in the language of your people?" Romano yells. "Sublingual nyphetophine," he then says, imitating the speech of an impaired person, to put it politely. Gallant is totally embarrassed, and so am I, because Romano isn't usually this blasé about treating people, is he? Isn't he Mr. Be Careful Of Your Liability? Romano orders Gallant to pick up six more grunt-work patients when he's done with Ms. Diabetes. "Letting any bottom feeder with a check into med school these days?" Romano bitches to Carter, who offers a weak defense of Gallant by calling him one of their best students. "That doesn't bode well for the future of emergency medicine," Romano snarks. Carter blocks Romano from stalking off on another rampage of shrill sarcasm and tightly reminds his new boss that the Chief Resident is in charge of assigning med students their cases. "When, every other Tuesday?" Romano blasts. "Any patient here over six hours is a failure of your medical skills, not mine. Treat, turf, or dispo." Romano wriggles away. Carter gives chase and tries to remind Romano respectfully that Romano has no background in emergency medicine, but gets a door slammed in his face for his trouble. Carter frowns at the blinds and wonders when Romano turned into Carter's mother.
"Feast or famine," a voice says cheerfully. Carter turns, and it's Donal. "Hey, you're back," Carter says, with that obviously noncommittal tone of one who has no idea what the person's name is and is reaching only as far as, "Hey, you, there you are, it's you!" Donal politely asks if Susan's around.
Susan is around, and she's in Trauma Green trying to pop the junkie's shoulder back in while he's in the throes of withdrawal. Luka and Abby are helping; they have the patient wrapped in sheets and are essentially yanking on anything that's protruding right now. Chen really ought to be here for this, then. "I can't take it, baby!" the junkie screams to his girlfriend. Carter ducks in, smirking, and tells Susan that a guy claiming to be Susan's husband is looking for her. Abby starts to giggle. "What's he look like?" Susan asks, brow furrowed. Abby's gaze darts toward Susan in disbelief. Carter describes him, and then Donal pops up in the door with a smile and a wave. Susan grins. "Yeah, that's him," she says cheerfully, turning to face the junkie. Abby, still smiling but stiffly, widens her eyes. Susan yanks harder on Junkie's arm and grimaces, blushing. We fade to black wondering if Abby's going to pitch a fit that Susan got what she wanted, and hoping this happens on-air and in mud, with a lot of hair-pulling.
Susan and Abby have adjourned to the bathroom so that the former can relieve herself of both her bladder burden and the secret of her marriage, while the latter changes her nicotine patch. Good for her, but it's just not as interesting as a smoke break. You can blow smoke different ways, but you can't exactly slap on the prop patch with varying attitude. "You were in Las Vegas for two days!" marvels Abby. "And three nights," Susan practically winks. "We met on the plane on the way over and hung out all weekend." Abby wonders half-jokingly whether Susan was sober during any of this. Susan just smiles and exposits that they went out for burgers, but accidentally cabbed it to a drive-thru wedding chapel. Tough mistake to make, unless Burger King is staffing with licensed ministers these days. Kind of makes onion rings a little more romantic, I guess. Abby can't believe Susan and Donal decided to get married. "I know it's impulsive," Susan insists. "'Impulsive'?" gapes Abby. Susan pauses. "Okay, it was really stupid," she admits. And the thing is, sure, it kind of was. But oddly, I don't think it was out of character. The one thing the writers have done in the past two seasons, in both little and slightly broader ways, is establish that Susan is extremely lonely. She sits down to dinner after a rough day...by herself. She wants to go out for a margarita, but no one will go with her, so she's stuck...by herself. So it's not that off-base for me that she found companionship she'd been missing for a while and got a little stupidly impulsive about it. Maybe the old Susan Lewis of the early seasons wouldn't have done it, but I will at least give the writers props for making this consistent with the Susan they've been redeveloping -- for better or worse -- since she returned. Anyway, Susan swears she and Donal are getting it annulled, and laughs that she hasn't even seen him since the wedding night because she left the day. "He stayed for a week. He could've married six other women by now," she notes. No way. Even Vegas has its limits. He probably just bagged six hookers. "Do you even remember his name?" Abby snickers. Susan fumbles and comes up with Chuck Martin, but uncertainly. And that's how "Donal" became "Chuck."
Susan ditches Abby and gingerly approaches her husband. "Hey stranger," Susan cracks. He beams at her. Carter and Gallant walk past, and we pick up their conversation; Gallant bitches about Romano while Carter rubbernecks at Susan and Chuck. Perhaps he's going to offer them Gamma's ring. But he does snap back to attention long enough to tell Gallant that he completely agrees Romano is being idiotic and inconsiderate. "He's the one who needs to be educated about this," Carter says. "And he wants to hear that from a medical student," Gallant retorts sarcastically. Carter actually acts bored by this and tells Gallant to try talking to Romano anyway. Which is sort of mean, considering that Carter himself tried talking to Romano and failed. Don't throw Gallant into the lion's den. He's way too tasty.
Gallant leaves so that Abby can take his place in the scene and give us another nugget of couplehood ambiguity. "Got a lot of people scared," she says. "Not you," Carter pretends to be shocked. "Still need to pay my rent," she points out. Carter claims Romano's bark is the worst part, to which Abby replies that it's easy for Carter to be cool -- he can afford to walk away. Carter ignores this dig at his personal wealth. "So Susan got married, huh?" he offers. "Can't call her indecisive," Abby says pointedly with a sidelong glance at Carter. "Can call her crazy," he counters with the same attitude. I smell issues. And they reek.
Abby and Carter pass the junkie, who is still wailing. His girlfriend screams at them for not helping him. It's called cold turkey, honey. It's not just a November leftover.
Susan and Chuck are outside drinking coffee. They've each spoken to attorneys about getting an annulment and found out it should be easy; Susan was a little worried, because they consummated the marriage, but Chuck assures her that riding his chopper didn't ruin anything except some cheap hotel sheets. They giggle about how much sex they had. "The cabana?" he prompts her. "Right, right," she blushes. She asks if he told anyone. "Like who, my mom?" he snickers. "She'd kick my ass if she knew I deprived her of a wedding." Susan agrees. They basically concur that it was hard to explain to people, and that it was no one's business, so they both kept mum. Until, of course, Chuckles showed up and introduced himself as Susan's spouse. Smooth move there, Sandpaper. "You kinda had to have been there," Chuck grins. "It made sense at the time," she beams back. Aw. He reluctantly notes that she probably has to get back to work. It sounds like she sighs, "Yeah," but the captioners claim she said "Nah," and I guess it doesn't matter which it was; either way, Chuck encourages Susan to play hooky.
Morales shows up at the ER with a pregnant woman, Debra, who passed out at Marshall Field's. "We were registering," she murmurs. Abby and Pratt cart her off to Trauma Green. "I remember feeling weak, but I haven't been eating," Debra says. Her husband shares that she's having terrible morning sickness. "My first wife had three kids, never even burped," he says, worried. Thanks, that's helpful. Carter enters and begins to examine Debra, softly pressing on her belly. She contorts in pain, so he does it again, this time on the outher wise. "Ow!" she screams. Carter frowns. He wants Linda Woo. Cindy-Lou who? Just then, Romano pulls out another one of his "just then, Romano enters" mid-scene arrivals. "Finally got a surgical candidate?" he asks brightly. "Oh, god, I need an operation?" freaks Debra. Carter tries to calm her; Pratt notices weird things happening in some random internal gutter of hers. "Probably blood," nods Romano. "I want the probe over the kidney." Pratt insists that it is. "Doesn't look like it is," Romano frowns. "It's not." He moves it. I don't know if they saw something strange, or what; they kind of drop the whole "Was it or wasn't it over the kidney?" routine, which is just as well, because, well, feh.
Linda Woo appears on the scene. She's a young, obviously green surgical resident. Carter begins to give her the bullet, but Romano glibly delivers a conclusion in Woo's place. She blinks. "Who are you?" she asks blankly. "Dr. Robert Romano, head of surgery less than a week ago," he bristles. "Who the hell are you?" Poor Dr. Woo only started yesterday. She asks all the rookie banal questions of Debra, which infuriates Romano to no end. "Are you deaf?" he shouts. Woo stammers that she should page Elizabeth. Abby pops off to do it so that Romano can continue being verbally abusive to wee Ms. Woo. "Any moron can see she needs surgical intervention for hemostatis," he yells. "Take her up!" Woo blinks. "I'm sorry. What's your position here?" she asks. "Your practical and intellectual superior, with over twenty years of surgical experience, versus the two years of asswiping you call residency. TAKE HER UP," Romano seethes.
Elizabeth's pager goes off right as Luka's explaining to her about Gordana's patient. In basic medical terms, he's still up shit creek. No one in Europe can help him, at least not affordably. Luka and Elizabeth hop into the elevator so she can head down to the ER, and so they can deliver some lines in front of a "Save a Life" poster. Apparently, County has doctors who perform the necessary operation all the time for free. "Yeah, but he's not a citizen," Elizabeth laments. "Neither are we, but we're here," Luka counters. Apples and oranges. Luka further suggests that some spiffy PR could engender community interest in paying for the boy's hospital care through donations, and doctors might give their time for free. "Yeah, but Kerry would still have to sign off on it," Lizzie says. "Are you on good terms with her?" Luka coughs. "Not really," he understates. "Neither am I," she shrugs. But then she promises to give it a go. This storyline is so boring, and it's not even really been developed yet.
"Where's Dr. Woo?" Elizabeth asks, breezing into Trauma Green. "She...left," Carter offers. Romano breezily suggests that Elizabeth hire residents with thicker skin. Is Elizabeth the head of surgery now? "She only cried a little," Abby placates. "Oh dear," Elizabeth sighs, but without much concern. She quickly takes control and notices everything that Romano had already spotted -- and he definitely makes that known. Debra has kidney cancer and will need surgery. Elizabeth wants an abdominal CT, and obstetrics involved. "Yeah, sure, why don't we get a third consult," Romano hisses. "Maybe we should ask the janitor what he thinks. I've been down here less than a day, and already I'm starting to hate surgeons." Elizabeth watches him, amused but a little concerned. Debra reminds them all that she's in the room by asking if her baby is okay. "No. The baby's quite healthy, actually," she begins, biting her lip.
Gallant grabs Romano and politely points out that he earlier ordered Gallant to prescribe something that is an obsolete treatment. Romano tries to deny saying sublingual ny-whatever-ophine, but he very clearly did say it, and in an offensive voice as well. Gallant argues this as rationally and calmly as he can, but his patience is as abundant as Rocket's hair. "Okay, okay, Goofus, listen. I'm the doctor, you're not," Romano spits. "My intention is to serve out this time in this hellhole without having Affirmative Action imbeciles like you make me regret ever having gone into medicine."
Romano whirls over to Jerry and demands information on who he can fire. "Obviously, you can't fire med students, but failing them is a bad idea because then they just have to repeat the rotation," Jerry informs him. So why did Elizabeth fail the oh-so-offensive Paul Nathan? I...never mind. Jerry suggests a marginal pass for bad students, and then tells Romano that he can fire non-union orderlies. Intrigued, Romano turns to a nearby black dude in scrubs, establishes that he's not in a union, and fires him. Susan's junkie screams with reckless abandon. "That is putting me on edge," Romano says through gritted teeth. He's miffed to learn that Susan's off on a break, and bitches about how lazy ER doctors are. "I always suspected Weaver would kill her own mother to get out of this dung heap, and now I know why," he complains.
Grabbing a chart, Romano heads over to a little boy so that he can create fresh new nightmares for somebody. The kid doesn't have any parents. They died in a car crash. "Bummer," Romano says. "So what's your problem?" Carter parks a frail blonde woman at the front desk and watches Romano suck all the sunshine out of the room. Then he asks Chuny to move Susan's junkie to an exam room. Then, he leans into Jerry and whispers that he wants to see all Romano's patients before they leave. "Thank you," a nearby Gallant says under his breath. "Doesn't mean you don't have to work with him," Carter reminds him.
Back to the frail blonde, who we'll call Scarecrow, because she kind of looks like one. She babbles that she fell hard on her ass in the shower. Susan sprints inside apologizing all over the place for being late. Carter gifts her with Scarecrow and says he'll call it even -- you know, I never will get why he is allowed to act like the boss of everyone. That whole void-filling thing isn't good enough for me. Almost as an afterthought, Carter congratulates her on the wedding. Susan rolls her eyes.
Romano's patient -- a boy we'll call Sue because I just watched Swingers -- has asthma. He's an old hand at ER treatment, it seems. "What happened to your arm?" he asks. "None of your beeswax," Romano snaps. Finally, he's found his emotional equal. Romano hails Abby and asks what they prescribe for soft asthma. "You're asking a nurse?" she gapes playfully. The boy knows exactly what he needs, so Romano parrots Sue's analysis of the situation and stands up triumphantly. "That took all of eight minutes! See, people, it can be done!" he shouts.
Luka passes Abby. "What [can be done]?" he asks. "BSing your way through a shift, I suppose," she says tiredly. See, that makes me sad. I really do like to think that Romano has more regard for patients than that -- I mean, I know he respects lawsuits more than that. Luka politely apologizes for the elevator moment. "I didn't mean to be nosy," he says. "I was just making little talk." Abby meets his gaze with a smile. "'Small talk,'" she corrects him. Luka grins back at her. Chuny calls them into Mr. Rushing's room because he's regaining consciousness; when they arrive at his side, the man deliriously asks where his children are. "We were driving...I walked to get help," he mutters. "Oh my God," Abby breathes. The Music of Young Lives Are At Stake kicks in as Luka orders her to get the police and sets his jaw in a very concerned and authoritative manner, so that we know he takes children seriously.
Carter is putting Debra through the CT machine, casually asking how long she's been married. "Two years," she says. "Some people say the age difference is a problem, but I can't keep up with him." She seems nervous about the machine, so Carter promises that they'll minimize her exposure to protect the baby. "Our little accident," she smiles tightly. Carter sends her into the machine, and he and the technician check out her results. The tech whistles at the level of corrosion of her kidney. "She'll need a nephrectomy," Carter says sadly. "Yeah, like, now," the tech snorts. "I guess Romano was right about one thing today," Carter murmurs. We fade to black knowing he's right -- they all should wear tighter scrubs.
The cops arrive in Trauma Green to take Rushing's statement about his children. He's crying and breathing with difficulty. "I just remember crying...they were so scared," he sniffles. "They're dead, aren't they?" Luka digests this information about imperiled children, runs a pocket metal detector over Rushing, and finds just enough traces of anvil to merit a brief brood.
Romano enters and crabs that they're approaching the six-hour mark. Luka admits that he's been trying to keep Rushing there in case his family turns up. Romano, not surprisingly, has no sympathy for this. "Turf him to Medicine," he snaps. "Let him hold hands and sing Kum-Ba-Yah there." Luka tries to fight him, so Romano accuses Luka of going soft from the mandatory therapy. Then he crosses the line: He whips out the Crazy Finger. Luka tenses. There's no going back now. "Stop seeing a shrink," Romano derides. "I don't believe in it, and if you're that screwed up, quit." Satisfied that he's begun shedding and shredding his professionalism, Romano stalks out and runs smack into Haleh. "Where the hell have you been, Helen?" he snaps. "Get back to work." Haleh smartly doesn't care enough to say anything.
Susan continues wheeling Scarecrow around. Scarecrow is complaining of a headache. I think that about covers it.
Pratt sprints to a store to look for a present for Chen, but it's closed. Desperately, he looks around and settles his gaze on his old nemesis, Kippy, who is crutching around beautifully on what looks like Kerry's old metal friend. "I need something a lady could wear," Pratt pants. I'm a big believer in the thought counting for a lot, but this is pretty half-assed and stupid even for Pratt. He must be fabulous in the sack to think he can get away with this. Kippy rifles through his collection of crappy goods until he finally finds a narrow wooden box. Pratt opens it and cocks an eyebrow at the contents. "How much?" he asks, interested.
Chen's birthday cake has a stethoscope made of icing, and is frosted green. It looks like an infection. Romano runs a finger through it and licks it. "A woman pops out a kid, what the hell difference does it make what day it is?" he bitches, outlawing all official and unofficial celebrations of staff birthdays. I would think he'd be all about toasting a woman's intense labor pains, bleeding, and screaming. He grabs a chunk out of the cake and shoves it in his mouth, and oh my God, it looks good. Romano brats that birthdays equal singing and merriment that eat up a paid half-hour of the work day. "It fosters community," Susan sing-songs. Like he cares. Romano lectures her for keeping Scarecrow around when all she had was a fractured wrist. "She's complaining of a headache," Susan explains. Romano refuses to listen, allowing only one complaint per customer. Again, that's ass. I don't care if he's got no background in ER medicine; he's worked there for ages, he's been around it, and what's more, he's a doctor. Even if he is trying to push colleagues' buttons so that one of them will snap, it doesn't seem normal that he'd take it out on the patients and half-ass their care. I don't buy that he's self-sabotaging to the point of being willing to invite lawsuits and a messier firing.
Chen stomps up to her defiled cake. "Who ate all my cake?" she pouts. Oh, I don't know, every guy you've ever dated longer than two hours?
A girl screams as she's wheeled into the hospital. She's eight and was in a car accident while sitting in the front seat, wearing her seatbelt. The airbag had deployed. "She may have a ruptured globe," the paramedic warns. "'Globe'! That means 'toe'!" I scream.
Elizabeth calmly explains to Debra that her tumor outgrew its blood supply, ruptured, and bled, causing her to faint. It's a ticking time bomb, and Elizabeth wants to remove it and the affected kidney. "Do you think it's cancer?" blanches Debra. "My mother died of cancer, and if that's what this is, I should know." Debra's husband's all, Simma down now, except he conveys this by swinging open his mouth, tilting forward, and saying nothing. "I should KNOW," Debra trembles, sniffling. Elizabeth clears her throat and confirms that it is probably cancerous, and if it's as aggressive as it seems, she's going to need heavy chemotherapy and radiation after surgery. Romano is aggressive. Maybe we can get him in on this action, too. Carter softly adds that these treatments, sadly, are inadvisable while pregnant. "Take it out," Debra blurts, lips trembling. "Take everything." Elizabeth can't believe what she's hearing. "Are you saying you wish to terminate [the pregnancy]?" she asks, stunned. Debra's husband leans in for one of his trademark open-mouthed silences. "Do it all at once," Debra chokes. Elizabeth tries to point out that she could get treated after the birth. "I want the chemo," Debra shrieks. "I want it now!" Carter, recognizing Veruca Salt when he sees her, trots out in search of a golden goose egg.
Outside the trauma room, Carter posits that Debra must feel like it's worth it to save her own life and then try again for a baby once she's better. Elizabeth argues that she could wait three weeks and possibly have a fetus that's viable outside the womb. "She's young. She's scared," Carter sums up. Elizabeth knows this, but that doesn't make her any less tempted to slap the baby out of Debra right then and there and incubate it somewhere else.
And then, it happens: Toe tomfoolery. I saw something approaching, and poking and prodding, and I shriek and bury myself under a pile of throw pillows. "Somebody hates you," my roommate Lauren grins. "God hates me," I spit. "Look, I only cheated on Lent twice, but not really, because everyone knows that hamburger buns don't count as bread!" Lauren suggests that someone from the show is trying to torture me. "They were doing a bloody good job of that already, without the toe nonsense," I wail. "Yeah, but before, you weren't actually crying and grabbing your stomach," Lauren points out politely. Basically, this young girl is blind, and it looks like it might be permanent, thanks to doddering ol' Grandma, who wanted her only grandchild to ride like a queen in the shotgun seat.
Susan and Abby skulk out of the room. "This isn't going down as one of my better days," Susan moans. "That applies to all of us," Abby pipes up quickly, lest people forget that this can be about her, too. Susan screeches to a halt, realizing that it's suddenly suspiciously silent in there. Meeting Abby's toes, she groans and races toward an exam room, where sure enough, she discovers that the junkie's dumb girlfriend injecting him with sweet, sweet narcotics. Nice hospital security. "It was too hard to watch," the girlfriend whines. Susan glares at her and then resignedly tells Abby to put him on a monitor. "At least someone's happy," she growls.
Elizabeth has braved the Weaver's den and is begging her to let doctors work pro bono. Just like Disco Stu, for all you Simpsons fans. Kerry reminds her what a deep deficit they're in, and how challenged their budget is, and how much fun it is to say no to people she doesn't like. Elizabeth figures they can get doctors to donate services, but Kerry says that's only a quarter of the total cost, so Elizabeth ups the ante with the suggestion that County General could get charitable donations and an enormous amount of national press. Weaver doesn't think a Croatian kid will rate on the nation's pity scale, much less the Bored People With Deep Pockets scale. "He's nine years old," Elizabeth says softly. "He'll die without it." Still Weaver refuses.
Her pager blaring, Elizabeth gets up to leave, but stops long enough to inquire about Romano. "Are you as concerned about Robert as I am?" she asks. "More precisely, his mental health. He seems...broken...by this assignment." Weaver's toes are devoid of sympathy. "He's a cockroach," she says flatly. "He'll refuse to evolve and yet survive us all." Startled by this, Elizabeth blinks -- but doesn't argue it -- and exits.
Jerry gleefully informs Romano that he can't fire residents easily, but can use scheduling against them -- if they work no more than sixteen shifts a month or three consecutive nights, he can book them for all weekends and holidays. "Good stuff," Romano nods. Out of the corner of his toe, he notices Sue still perched on a gurney and demands to know why Jerry hasn't dispoed him yet. "Uh, that was on my list of things to do," Jerry stalls, disappearing as fast as he can, because Carter is standing to Sue. Carter loudly informs Romano that he erred in treating the boy. "You overrode my orders?" Romano spits. "Yeah," Carter says calmly. "Before he can leave, he needs to be able to walk and hold normal sats, which he can't do." Sue grins. "Uh oh, you screwed up," he sings. "No I didn't," Romano brats. Then Romano turns to Carter and tears him a new one for overriding Romano's orders and questioning his judgment. "And you sure as hell don't get too comfortable here, Dr. Carter!" he yells as the ER din dies down on cue. If this were a David E. Kelley show, the record would have scratched mightily just then. "This is MY ER now," Romano continues. "That stands for one thing: 'Everyone's Replaceable.' Even you." Carter gnaws on his lip as we fade to black wondering if Romano is simply threatened by the fact that Carter's previously hideous and unmanageable coif has gotten a whole lot more attractive this week.
Luka hovers near a cop whose ear is glued to the phone. "Better be a local call," Romano wails. Luka largely ignores him and, when the cop hangs up, follows him around asking why they haven't found Rushing's children yet. The cop basically wants Luka to go away and let them search, but Luka doesn't think they're looking hard enough because a man trying to save his children could walk a hundred miles, not just five or ten. The cop's like, The Proclaimers did it better, okay? Luka purses his lips and lets it lie. Rrowr. I'll bet he did, that little minx.
Weaver passes and asks Luka where Romano is. "I don't know, and I don't care," he replies. "Chuny, how's it going?" she attempts. "Don't even," Chuny groans. On her third spin, she's more successful, running into Carter. "Thought you were long gone," he says archly. Feigning glibness, Weaver says she's just checking in to see how Romano's coping. "As expected, he was abysmal," Carter levels with her. "No patient rapport, severely stunted interpersional skills..." Weaver tries to laugh it off as typical surgeon behavior, but Carter stresses that Romano's incompetent, doesn't want to learn, and almost offed someone by prescribing an outdated treatment. "Obviously, you stopped him from doing so," Weaver tries hopefully. Carter points out that he can't exactly shadow Romano all the time, but Weaver begs him to make it work, or work around it. Carter shrugs his assent, because after all, he's Chief Resident, so he should be in charge of...oh, wait. Right. There are four Attendings who are higher up the food chain than Carter is. Four. Come on now.
Rushing's wife Diana arrives, worried sick. Luka asks when was the last time she saw them, and she appears confused. "Your husband and children," he clarifies. She stammers that she and her husband don't have children, and Luka's jaw drops wide enough to swallow Chen's sexual history. (Hey, if the writers want to insist upon making her the ER Spooge Queen, then the easy -- emphasis on easy -- jokes are fair game.)
Someone must have realized that we haven't had a nice vaginal discharge mention in a while, so Susan promptly arrives to attend to a Down's Syndrome girl and her leaking crotch. Hot. No wonder nobody on this show is having any good sex. Susan quickly checks on the Scarecrow, who's in the bed, and realizes with horror that she's not breathing. Carter replies to the emergency buzzer and tries to shock her back alive. Mindy, the Down's Syndrome girl, looks completely fascinated by all of this.
Elizabeth operates on Debra and discovers that the tumor has spread really, really badly. It's Stage 4B cancer; the pathology department confirms all this over the speakerphone by using a horde of important syllables to convey, "Yeah, it's bad." The nurses look to Elizabeth for a translation. "We'd be doing her a favor if she bled to death," Elizabeth intones. "Her chance of survival is less than 2%." Elizabeth demands that someone fetch Debra's husband.
Ah, if she only had a pulse: Scarecrow is toast. Carter runs down her symptoms: a headache, a hard fall, a blown pupil. He thinks she jogged an aneurysm that no one knew she had. Susan, bummed, vomits up the hackneyed phrase, "I'm sure she wasn't planning on dying today." Then she calls the time of death and prays fervently for better lines week. I think the implication is that Romano's tirades and impatience led to this woman being shunted aside, but it could also be that they're doing the "everyone makes mistakes" thing to balance all the Romano assitude. Who knows. All I can say is, I'd like to see Susan save someone's life pretty soon.
A shrink informs Luka that Mr. Rushing has depression and a dissociative disorder that have created a negative amnesia -- he's inventing people. "I can't believe how real they were," Luka whispers. "To him, they are, right now," the doctor says. "But they won't always be. With the right meds, it will all fade away." Luka curses. He'd given up anvils for Lent.
Susan gives Mindy her pelvic exam. I wonder if it's hard for these actors to do scenes like that. Susan's supposed to be elbow-deep and poking around where a flashlight don't even shine, much less the sun. There's some hoo-ha about how Mindy's being taken advantage of by a janitor who gave her an STD. "He says he loves me," Mindy says importantly. Susan groans, as is her lot in life, and exits the room. She suggests that Abby call the police. "It's official -- this is one of the worst days of my life," Susan complains.
Pratt and Chen happily exit the lounge on their way to dinner; she is pulling on some camel leather gloves. "Hey, my gloves!" Susan gasps, confused. "No, no, Greg just gave them to me," Chen corrects her. Susan swears they're hers. "No way, I bought those on the street," Pratt blurts, then raises his toes heavenward, aware that he's about to get the bluest balls he's ever had. "You bought these out on the street?" shrieks Chen, yanking them off -- hee -- and giving them back to Susan. "Yeah, from Kippy," Pratt confesses. Chen seems appalled, but still kind of has a half-smile on her face, as if she figures this is typical Pratt. Meanwhile, checking back in the timeline, it would be difficult for Kippy to have stolen the gloves, as Susan discovered they went missing -- from the lounge, no less -- before Kippy ever even entered the ER. I don't buy that they passed through someone else's hands first, so yay, I think the writers screwed that pooch but good. Susan smiles at her gloves. "If I were you, I'd put them under a Wood's lamp," Abby whispers. See, I think that's kind of funny, but I'll admit it's a crappy thing for Abby to say, as she and Susan and Chen were once such good partying buddies. Because I'm not friends with Chen, nor have I ever liked her, I feel okay making jokes about what a ho she's being turned into by the writers.
Chuck appears with a white paper bag, and cheerfully says that even though he and Susan are supposed to remain apart until the annulment, he figured she could use someone to talk to if her day was half as bad as his was. Susan rattles off the list of indignities she's suffered through today, but he tops her with a story about a family dying in a burning vehicle, only an eighteen-month-old surviving. "You win," Susan says tiredly. Chuck happily brandishes the burgers they never got to eat in Vegas, and Susan leads him off to the lounge. They're really cute. I actually find myself looking forward to what they do with this, which, since it's a rather silly plotline, means this show has finally set up camp at the bottom end of the barrel and is proudly running up the flag of mediocrity.
Romano heckles Gallant as he tries to suture an arm. "Knit one, purl two?" he snorts. "Take much longer, you're going to be sewing scabs." Gallant seethes through clenched teeth that if he goes faster, the edges won't evert well. Delighting in this, Romano sighs that watching med students suture reminds him just how good he is. "Was," Gallant mutters quietly. Romano's face freezes. "What did you say?" he asks seriously. "He said, 'was,'" the patient pipes up helpfully. Romano glares poisonously at Gallant, then throws a chart at him. "Loose stools in Exam Four," he hisses. "Knock yourself out." See? The quietly angry approach is way scarier than all that verbal diarrhea we had to sit through earlier. Everything in doses, please. The one-note snarkiness doesn't work when a tertiary character becomes a primary one. It turns shrill and old and pathetic, and if the bosses really want to make us completely hate Romano by making him one-dimensional and overblown, then why did they spend any time at all giving him human touches? Weird. Not that I'm surprised by this weirdness. It's become a show staple.
Elizabeth, still in the OR, shouts up to Debra's husband that they've discovered a malignant and inoperable cancer spreading in his wife. She's probably a goner. But Mr. Debra wants to cling to any chance she does have at recovery. "She can survive long enough to deliver the baby if she doesn't seek treatment, but in order for that to happen, you'd have to reverse her decision," Elizabeth shouts. Broken, Mr. Debra chokes, "She wants to live." Wait, no he doesn't. That line got deleted. Instead, he's silent. Elizabeth stresses that he has to act now, because the gynecology team is standing by to perform an abortion. "I want her to live," he whispers. "Your wife is going to die," Elizabeth pressures him. I appreciate that she's not sugar-coating it, but while it is her responsibility to make him understand his options, it's not her job to harangue him. I mean, he's not Mark. "She's going to fight this," nods Mr. Debra. "Do you understand?" Elizabeth retorts harshly. "This baby has a chance." But Mr. Debra can't bring himself to override his wife's order, so the doctors prepare for the abortion. Disgusted, Elizabeth stares at him, then tears off her gloves and chucks them roughly to the floor. She can't believe he chose the highway with gas prices this inflated.
At a dark tavern, Romano slurs an order for another drink. "And stop skimping on the peanuts," he drawls. The bartender shakes his head at him in irritation. The televisions are showing the World's Strongest Man contest that's always on ESPN2, and which is totally entertaining, but it's not good enough to be the backdrop for Romano's shame spiral. "How about putting something on for those of us in the room without hairy knuckles?" he bleats. The guy to him takes offense. "Something wrong with this show?" he challenges. "Yeah," Romano nods. "It only appeals to folks making less than twenty grand a year." The man spits, "Thirty." Romano commends his on finally getting a raise from the car wash. "I'm a copier tech," the man growls. Romano disses his dirty fingernails and implies that the man gets a homoerotic thrill out of watching huge men pull trucks with their teeth. Robert, look at the TV. Gay or straight, there's nothing erotic about these men. His fellow patron doesn't agree, though, and stands up calmly before taking a swing at Romano. A second guy leaps into the fray for no apparent reason, and decks Romano with another blow to the head, because, dude, testosterone ROCKS! Viva la Vas Deferens! Barfights are for men with giant penises! Raucous guitar music blasts up from out of nowhere as three or four more punches connect with Romano while he's lying on the ground bleeding out of the corner of his mouth. "Yeah, I'm goin' down," trills the singer annoyingly, and we cut to black with this really jarring and embarrassingly obvious music cue ringing in our ears.