It's been a month. A lovely, peaceful month. But we're back now, so bone up: Sam decided she wanted to get serious with Luka; Frank had a heart attack; Elizabeth dated both hot Dr. Lawson and Minivan; and Susan's pregnant. Neela and Gallant danced. Neela is claustrophobic and flipped out in the hyperbaric chamber. Having watched the episode, I can't figure out the wisdom of using this clip. It's not relevant to her problems in the ER, and it's really not the reason she's having trouble finding a specialty. Maybe they're just foreshadowing that her rotation is in the Closet Ward.
We fade up on a conference among Kerry and all the Attendings -- Carter included; it's been referenced before, but it bears mentioning that show really has glossed over his promotion. Don't TPTB know that fans often wank until there's chafing? Anyway, the nucleus of power is discussing the med students and their suitability to the ER, apparently leaving those same med students to run the ER in their absence. Who's making decisions down there? Pratt? Oh God, that can mean only one thing: Naked K-Y Conga Line. For those of you with shrines, voodoo dolls, or threatening letters in the making, Lester's last name is Kertzenstein. He likes short walks on the beach, the feeling of corn between his toes, panty hose, and the smell of water. It's too bad, given the theme in this episode, that Lester isn't his last name and his first name isn't Mo. Carter shrugs. "Lester, Lester, Lester," he ponders. Luka calls him "polite," and Chen suggests that he'd be good in pathology. "That way his patients will be dead before he gets to them," Susan snarks. Wait, we haven't seen Lester messing up. I think she's mixing up Lester with Malarkey. That Chuck Fetus is making her forgetful. She needs to remember the sniff test: if he reeks of pot, it's Malarkey you've got.
"Lockhart, Abby," Weaver says impersonally. She's apparently the only one with professional remove, as the others all swap awkward glances. "Strong clinical skills," Luka offers. "Efficient, when she needs to be," Chen adds. And for the trifecta of milquetoast compliments, I present Carter's offering of "Knows where to spend her time." Aw, they're just jealous that she's got better hair than they do right now. Seriously. Carter felled The Beard -- it can't be that hard to tame The Mop. Sure, it's growing in difficult, insidious clumps down his face and threatening to swallow it whole, but there's got to be a machete out there that's up to the task. Susan and the Chuckus sigh, "The only person who's not sure about Abby is Abby." Carter and Luka swap expressions indicating that they agree with this, and that they've perhaps experienced this firsthand. Probably outside work. With all that lack of certainty, Abby must've been horrible in the sack. Weaver asks whether Abby even wants to work in the ER. "As much as she wants anything," Susan says. There's no snark in her tone; she's just being honest, I think, and seems to have Abby pegged. When she wants things, Abby definitely seems to want quietly and casually rather than loudly and with teeth-gnashing ambition. She's not effusive, that's for sure, but I also don't think she's just along for the ride in life. Anyway, Kerry writes down "rank to match" and moves on to Neela, pronouncing her name with the kind of pretentious accent I've sadly come to expect. "Intelligent. Sweet," says Luka. Chen calls her "studious," which prompts Carter to snort incredulously that Neela is easily smarter than anyone in the ER. Whichever wall it's pressed against, I'm sure the glass Pratt is using to eavesdrop just shattered. Chen does point out that she thinks Neela hangs back rather than getting involved in traumas, which isn't something I feel like I've seen demonstrated. They've bent over backwards to show us that Book Learnin' Ain't Everything' 'Round These Here Parts, and that Neela's weakness is her instincts -- and Luka does point out that she needs to be more assertive -- but they haven't shown her to be anything less than willing. So, Chen should do as I often instruct her to do, and shut her piehole.
Susan cuts right through the bullshit and sighs irritatedly that Neela's never going to be a good ER doctor, and that she should go to research or internal medicine because they could make better use of her intellect. "When did intellect become a liability to working in the ER?" Carter asks, bemused. "There was a memo while you were in Africa," Weaver cracks. She needs to let it go. But, hee. Carter points out that Neela basically saved Frank's life -- although that had more to do with finding him first, I think; technically it was Pratt who did the most -- and that, with her excellent mind and carefulness, Neela will get faster with time. I can sort of buy this as a tangent to what we've seen of Neela's struggles -- that she doesn't necessarily trust a gut feeling, and when she does, it doesn't guarantee a textbook outcome. Witness her NICU freakout, which come to think of it would've been a way better previously-on clip to include. Stupid Chen says that Neela's passive. Carter thinks they should rank her to match, but Weaver points out that no one else agrees that she'll improve enough in four months. "The NRMP list doesn't have to be in right away," Weaver points out. "Carter, change our minds."
As they leave, Susan observes that Carter has loads of time for his reformation project. He sighs that he doesn't, really, because he's on a plane to Africa that night for a week. Well, clearly, then, he should half-ass it so that it fits his timeline. Neela trots up to Carter with a knee-injury case; Jerry tells Susan that Chuck said he'd meet her outside. "Chivalry. Time of death, 8:07," Susan says, half-seriously. I don't know what her problem is with this one -- not everyone wants to stand around a hospital's front desk waiting for meetings to adjourn. I'm just defensive of Chuck. And I think the Chuckus has made Susan a bit more irritable than is usual. Bad sign. Susan calls out an amused wish of luck to Carter and trots outside. Carter asks Neela how long her patient's been there, and she says it's been seven hours in triage and two in a room. She didn't irrigate the wound for some arcane reason or other. "I thought I should wait for you," she insists. Carter stares at her.
Chuck wants a hamburger for breakfast. He thinks he's having a sympathy pregnancy. "Nausea, gas, increased salivation, cravings, I have to pee all the time..." he lists. I just learned more about Chuck's plumbing than I know about my apartment's. Inside Ike Ryan's, Susan sits down tiredly and asks Chuck to order for her. At the table, a squirrelly-looking guy peers at her with geeky relish and wishes her a good morning. "When are you due?" he asks. "Another month or so," Susan replies. He goes off on how much he loves kids, and how his wife's pregnancy was the best time of his life. Susan's sort of charmed by this, so the guy gets up and sits down at her table, telling her that all pregnant women are sexy and beautiful, and that she shouldn't let anyone tell her she isn't sexy. Susan's looking a bit skeptical now. Her diagnostic skills have kicked in, and she's reached the conclusion that he's creepy. "Any real man knows there's nothing better than making love to a round, smooth, nurturing mother-to-be," he salivates dreamily. Susan quite rightly stands up and collects her things -- and if she hadn't, I think the chaotic motions of protest that Chuckus is doubtless generating would have done the upward-propulsion job for her. Pervy begs Susan not to take it the wrong way, but she notes that there isn't a right way to take that -- which there is; the right way is "with disgust," so I think she pegged it just fine. "I didn't mean to offend you. Can I touch it?" he asks. Wow, dude, the least you could to is put a breath between those two thoughts. It's a bit like the time a guy at a bar hit on me by saying, "I don't mean to be forward, but can I see your breasts?" Needless to say, for that one, he went backward. But that's beside the greasy, improprietous point. Chuck gets wind that someone's harassing Susan and intervenes with indignation. "Ease up, pal. I didn't see a ring on her finger," Pervy protests. Chuck nods, and then winds up and decks the guy. "GOD, my LIP," the guy moans from his new home on the sticky floor of the bar. Long may he writhe. "Must be the hormones," Chuck shrugs. We smash to the credits on Susan's stunned expression. She can't believe her ballyhooed return to ER has landed her in this plotline.
At the hospital, while Luka sews up his lip, Pervy moans and groans about flagrant assault. "You molested me first!" Susan screeches. Well, verbally, maybe, but he didn't lay a hand on the Chuckus. "It was an innocent question!" he sputters. "It was NOT innocent," she insists. Pervy maintains that Chuck hit him for simply exercising Pervy's right to free speech, and that he was just being friendly. Susan and Luka leave in disgust. This scene was kind of annoying -- it already doesn't feel like an ER storyline. It's only worth anything for the following line from Luka: "Chuck should've punched him in his teeth -- that way, they can't talk." Irate, Susan tells Chuck that Pervy has called the cops, pulls on her Lecture Pants: Now In Maternity Sizes, and grabs him to give him a stern talking-to about why boys shouldn't punch. She's a right bitch today. I know Chuck should exercise some restraint, but Susan's a walking dark cloud.
Luka sees Sam talking on the phone, and a smile breaks out on his face. He walks up behind her, stands close, and whispers, "Morning." She smiles up at him but is distracted. It seems she's having trouble planning Alex's birthday, since his only friend is going to be away with his parents for the weekend. That's parent-speak for "Your son scares the pants off of us, and not in a sexy way that makes us want to create a little tyke of our own that's just like him." Luka ponders this and then says, "Get him a clown." Sam snickers. "What's wrong with a clown?" Luka asks, laughing. "Kids love clowns!" Kids do love clowns -- blind, deaf, mute, and invisible clowns, that is. And clowns that leave. Those are the best of all.
Carter tells Neela to push some meds on her knee patient and observe the wound under the Wood's lamp. You know, in case there's any of Pratt's semen on it. Neela says she'd guessed the dosage, but wanted Carter to confirm, because she's passive. You hear me? Passive! "Come find me -- don't just wait, okay?" Carter pleads. She politely says she didn't want to interrupt the meeting. And again I wonder, just who was running the ER while every single Attending was upstairs drinking coffee and playing God? Don't tell me they gave Malarkey the keys to the car. Driving while stoned is illegal. And driving while stupid is just wrong. Carter confesses they were all in the meeting to rank the fourth-year medical students. Suddenly, this feels like high school, and poor little freshman Neela is getting the wind taken out of her sails because she just found out the seniors are judging her. "Everyone agreed that you're really bright, and we really like working with you..." begins Carter. "Someone spoke poorly of me?" Neela all but whimpers. "No one in particular," Carter says. "Was it Dr. Chen? She's had it in for me..." Neela attempts, but Carter interrupts and orders her to be more proactive and decisive. "They feel I'm too passive?" Neela gropes. Carter stares at her, the very picture of a girl who's never failed at anything in her life and doesn't know how to digest it, and comes to a decision. "For the four hours, you're a doctor," he says. "You'll carry a minimum of three patients at all times...Present only after you've put your own diagnostic into action." Wait, so that implies that there's a certain level of passivity that's inherent in being a med student -- she's not supposed to act without approval. What's the problem, then? Maybe Carter should be asking her where the residents were who could've given her some guidance. You know, if they'd been giving Neela some constructive feedback all along, there wouldn't be this frantic push from Carter to make her pass muster. This shouldn't be the first time Neela's heard things about her style, and there shouldn't be this kind of time pressure to correct her errors. Some teaching hospital. Unless you want a lesson in "How To Get Pregnant," "Bald Men And The Evils They Bring To Bear On Society," or "Taking Dicksmackitude To New Heights," in which case you've come to the right place. "Today you're a shark," Carter says, trying to pump Neela up into assertiveness. "Keep swimming, or you die." Idiotic, ill-thought-out words from a lousy teacher. Carter's so woefully misguided here. Weaver would throw a fit -- giving a med student the powers of a regular resident or intern just screams "lawsuit" almost as loudly as Kerry herself likes to screech it at her staff.
Abby announces a car accident involving a nursing-home van. All three victims have good vitals. Gallant claims the first one; Carter snatches back one of the three charts he gave Neela, telling her to keep two and then assist Gallant. She and Gallant swap a look that's unreadable. I like to think it's of the "Will his hair hurt me if I say no?" persuasion. Pratt coasts out to the front desk for his two seconds of screen time -- just long enough to say something about breasts, as is his wont. His oily, predictable wont. "I'm leaving the stripper in Curtain 4 just for you," he tells Gallant. "Try not to tube her." Gallant is confused. Turns out it's an acronym: "Totally Unnecessary Breast Exam." He should've gone into gynecology. Although that would be repulsive. I think he'd be a little too into the fingerbang aspects of the job, and nothing's more off-putting than having your legs in the stirrups for a doctor whose first response is to think, "Daaaaamn, I can't WAIT to get all up in that." Gallant shakes his head in what looks like affectionate exasperation and wishes Pratt a good day.
Pratt skulks up to Chen and oozes that she might like to buy him breakfast, but Chen's not interested in eating a limp sausage with two eggs over-easy -- way, way too easy. Plus, Chen's father's nurse is waiting for Chen in triage. The nurse is quitting. "Your father won't wear his diaper, he throws food at me, and when I try to help dress him he yells bad words," the woman says gently. I don't see the problem -- that sounds just like many wee babies. Except that they don't have a choice about the diaper. Chen desperately insists that her father isn't really like this. The nurse doesn't doubt it, but unfortunately for both of them, he's like this for now and it's not acceptable. "I pray for him," the nurse says, handing Chen what looks like a rosary for her father. Chen looks like she's torn between using it to throttle the nurse or hang herself from the lights in the doctors' lounge. The nurse hands off her address so that Chen can mail her one last check, and takes off, leaving Chen in the lurch.
Neela and Gallant sit on the curb in the ambulance bay, awaiting a trauma. Neela is frowning about Carter's speech, and whether she's a good fit for the ER. Gallant says that Carter was just trying to motivate her. One of these days, Carter's going to have to learn to teach well -- that, or motivate himself straight back to a permanent gig in Africa. Neela worries that he's right, and that the ER is just too fast and unpredictable for her. Gallant points out that it's a large hospital full of other departments in which she could specialize, but Neela shoots down NICU, obstetrics and gynecology, and pediatrics, and frets that staid research and teaching aren't why she became a doctor. Gallant pretends to ignore her: "Were you talking to me?" She smacks him playfully and he laughs adorably. "This place is so up and down. You learn to ride through the rough days. I did," he insists. "You were probably good from the start," Neela flirts. Gallant shakes his head instantly and credits her with being way smarter than his young, scared self. "You really like it here?" she asks, curiously. "I wouldn't stay if I didn't," Gallant replies. Was that the characters talking, or the actors?
The ambulance unloads Luis Sanchez. He was in the nursing-home van (but he's rather young -- hey, whatever) and he's wailing because he hasn't had any pain medication. The paramedic exposits that Luis fell off a roof in December, and they think it affected his mental status, to the point that his current altered state is probably not due to this collision. Carter ships them off to Trauma Yellow. Neela wants to give Luis pain meds, but his pressure's too low, so they push some saline. She asks if he has any allergies, and Luis can't answer; all he knows is that his wife gives him his pills. "A blue, a green, and three white," he wails. Neela scampers out of the room to call the nursing home for a complete medical history, since she can't exactly go to the lock-up and be like, "Okay, which ones are green...."
At the front desk, Susan is tearing Chuck a new one, ostensibly so that he can hurry up and birth his sympathy fetus and stop the bubble, toil, and trouble of his hormones. Chuck is refusing to go talk to Pervy, but Susan swears the guy's going to press charges unless Chuck apologizes. Sure, the punch was a bit excessive, but I can certainly understand why Chuck would be irritated at having to eat crow in front of a guy who was being lewd to the mother of his child. No father would want Chuckus to get felt up that early in life. Meanwhile, Neela is frantically trying to get someone at the nursing home to provide Luis's records. "I'm sorry you've had a bad morning, but he's had an even worse one," she snaps. "Can you fax the med list as soon as possible?"
Cut to Sam and Luka staring at the floor behind a closed door. The caption for this scene, were it a cartoon, would be, "I can't believe it -- this never happens to me." But then Luka pops up his head and suggests a magician for Alex's birthday, and we realize that this was just a tease, and everyone's equipment is working just splendidly. Sam smiles that, last year, Alex asked for a pig embryo he could dissect, so she's not sure a magician is going to tempt him. Then a paramedic bursts through with another van passenger, Lucy, and we see they're in Trauma Other. Luka's called away to help Carter with the van driver, leaving Sam with Lucy. "Paintball?" Luka shouts. "Good idea -- put a gun in his hand," Sam retorts, grinning. And right here is why people on the boards are labeling Alex a freak and a sociopath: Sam's sarcasm here, and about her son's unusual interests, seems to imply that she sort of thinks he's a freak, and that's never a good sign, because aren't mothers contractually obligated to be deluded?
In Trauma Green, Carter and Luka work away on someone we don't care about and who only exists so that Neela can run in and get no answers from them. "Guy door needs meds, but there's no drug records," she says. Carter tells her to call the nursing home, and she says she has but that she doubts they'll get back to her. Carter and Luka's attention gets distracted by Contrivance, who has begun using the van driver's lung as a backbrush. "He's not breathing!" they yell. No wonder. Contrivance hasn't waxed or cleansed its pimply back since back when Mark Greene had rooting value. Sam bursts in and shouts that Lucy needs a doctor -- her tracheotomy tube came out. Neela takes stock of the situation and charges in there without getting an answer from Carter about her dilemma.
Sure enough, Lucy has a hole in her throat. Neela quickly determines that she can put the trach whatchahoozy back into its place, and calmly counts Lucy through a breathing exercise that ends with Neela's snapping it in smoothly. "Doctors," Sam snorts, impressed. "We don't need no stinkin' doctors!" And I'm sure Lucy, wondering if she was just treated by a random walk-in, is delighted to hear that. Neela doesn't bask in her success, though, because Chuny yells for her to come back in with Luis.
Chuny found some information in the man's jacket pocket. Gallant deems this good enough, so everyone prepares to titrate ten ccs of Inspected By #87. Gallant gets called to CT because one of his patients is seizing there, so he hurriedly prescribes morphine and leaves. As Abby's prepping the drug, though, Neela shouts for her to stop -- Luis had nausea with morphine during a prior operation, so she doesn't think they should push it. Abby asks her what to do, and Neela bolts for the fax machine. Thanks to my roommate, who had the same problem years ago, I know that you can offset this problem by administering anti-nausea medication with the morphine -- a fix she just had done this past week. It worked like a charm. Not sure why none of the doctors considered it. Or, in a pinch, let the dude puke until his medical records arrive. A little vomit never hurt anyone. Except for the time it got me kicked out of a bar, and even then, I didn't feel anything. Well, except shame. And the cold hand of the bouncer.
Out in the hall, Susan is trying to convince Chuck -- now officially nothing more than an alpha male -- that it's okay to apologize to Pervy, and that doing so won't cause his testosterone levels to drop so hard and fast that his penis inverts. Chuck grudgingly agrees to go see Pervy. Neela frantically scrambles through the fax papers, but there's nothing from the nursing home; she asks whether Gallant has already disappeared up to CT. He has. Susan very clearly asks if everything is okay, but Neela instantly says she's taken care of things. Someone with the ability to advise was indeed available here, and Neela didn't take the opportunity. So even though she's correct in knowing she needs the medical record, she isn't completely without help in dealing with the fact that it's not there.
Neela sprints back toward Trauma Yellow, but Sam stops her and asks if she should push Demerol for a kidney-stone patient. Neela swiftly corrects that they shouldn't use a narcotic until a lesser drug's been ineffective, and takes the vial of Demerol. She sprints back to Trauma Yellow; Sam doesn't bother to tell her not to run with needles, because she skipped that lesson with Alex in favor of the retroactive but still crowd-pleasing "Please don't steal fingers."
Abby reports that Luis's pain scale is eight out of ten, which sounds kind of oversimplified but is actually how they assess these things. Lauren's hospital room had a scale with five different little faces on it that all corresponded to the level of pain; Mr. Eight To Ten was sweating and frowning. As is Luis. Neela says his discharge sheet -- which must have been what was in his pocket; that, or they faxed her that much and hadn't sent the rest of the record yet -- says he had post-op Demerol, so she whips out the vial she took from Sam. Abby gets called away, so Neela calmly promises to push it herself. Abby leaves. Luis sobs. Those two things are unrelated.
Susan watches Chuck from the front desk and sighs, "It's so sweet to see them growing." Jerry frowns. "Babies?" he asks. "Men," she answers. Lord. Playing up the whole "men are so immature" stereotype is such an easy punch line. I'm disappointed that, in addition to being a crabby old pregnant crone, Susan is also now a man-hater. Suddenly, of course, Chuck lets out a giant scream and starts fighting with Pervy again, because he's not allowed to do anything but act like an ass so that if Susan dumps him we won't care. Susan bursts into the room just as an old man who's also situated in there shouts, "Pull his hair!" Chuck and Pervy go tumbling over a bed and wreak complete havoc on the room until Jerry pulls them apart. "Stop it, Chuck," Susan scolds. Chuck frowns and mopes. Susan rolls her eyes, visibly irritated at this early enactment of the duties of motherhood.
Luis gurgles that Neela made his pain go away. She presents him successfully to Carter, who hands off two more patients to her and glows with the rosy light of arrogance. He's ten seconds away from crawling up his own ass. "Keep it up," he smarms. Neela allows herself a small, proud smile, and we fade to black all too aware that when we run this scene through the ER Jinx Translator, it will spit back, "I look forward to witnessing your inevitable downfall -- that, or the ruination of your hair by the drooling, rabid donkeys we hired last season to take over the hair and makeup department."
Weaver should have become a personal-injury lawyer in her spare time. She can smell a lawsuit from ten miles away, and with her day job, there's no need for dangerous ambulance-chasing because they come straight to her. Weaver explains that Pervy is threatening to sue everything from the city to the fire department to the ER. "I need this to go away," she snaps. And here we are, back to Hollow Kerry. Put your mouth on her ear and blow, and you'll see -- she's a human kazoo. Weaver begins threatening to sic the hospital lawyers on the situation, until Susan finally capitulates and agrees to have a go at talking some sense into Pervy. Chuck pouts as Susan stalks toward Pervy's room. Weaver is with her. And I hate this so much, because not only is Kerry a one-note shrew obsessed with litigation and the bottom line, but she's deviated from protecting her staff, and she always struck me as someone who would in particular go to bat for her female staff members if they felt threatened. Hate this. HATE.
Neela has a handful of patients to present to a pleased-as-punch Carter, who can't wipe the shit-eating grin off his face. Which would be a lot more satisfying if he'd go ahead and actually eat shit. Deftly Neela treats an incarcerated hernia and an asthmatic, and explains how she diagnosed a diabetic. Each time, her instinct was correct. Neela turns around and warmly greets another patient; Neela's very much the picture of someone who's just become the most popular girl in school and is basking in it. Carter trots along behind her and mouths "Thank you," at the sky. Because it's about him -- what makes him right, what proves his instincts...Oh my God, he's the new Abby. Neela displays excellent bedside manner with a father and his little girl, dispensing practical advice in layman's terms, and Luka and Carter watch with a grin. "The girl is on FIRE," Carter beams. "Yeah, you told us so," Luka concedes, laughing. "I told you so," Carter agrees, swanning out of there. Abby overhears. "Attending gossip," Luka downplays. I love that it takes her a second to digest this, which I read as having everything to do with the words "Attending gossip" being the last two she'd expect to come out of Luka's mouth.
Abby bumps into Elizabeth at the desk. "So?" she asks, a tinge of mischief in her tone. Elizabeth misunderstands and thinks Abby is asking about work. What Elizabeth doesn't know is that work is for gossiping about one's personal life. "Last night, the surgeon..." Abby trails off. "Oh, it was, er...splendid," Elizabeth winks. Too bad we didn't see it, but Dr. Lawson's a bit busy right now threatening the president on 24, and can't be disturbed. Abby hopes that "splendid" is English code for "hot and sweaty." "I don't kiss and tell," Elizabeth says. Jerry calls Abby away, so she grins that she's fully expecting some dirt later. I love that Elizabeth is turning into this total sexpot. She had a totally miserable marriage -- I think she's entitled to a little sexual gymnastics.
Sam flounces through the hall with Luka and whines that the hospital gift shop sucks -- all she found for Alex was a novelized version of The Matrix Reloaded. Tell me she didn't seriously browse the hospital gift shop for her son's birthday. She should talk to Pratt -- he at least knows a street vendor who can add a touch of class to the proceedings. Luka giddily presents her with a price list for Mr. Hyde's Tavern. "It's a haunted mansion restaurant," Luka says. "'Strawberry bloodshake'?" Sam reads. "'Tarantula fries'?" She's totally dubious. Luka's all, "That's cool, right?" And it would be, for Alex, if they really were bloodshakes and fries made of spiders. Sam laughs and gently says she's looking for something Alex will really remember. Luka cracks, "What, a bloodshake's not special?" Not until you've made one yourself. I give Alex three weeks.
Sam and Luka end their pedeconference at the bed of Frederika Torres, a schoolgirl who claims she hurt her ankle in tennis practice. Her coach, Sister Margaret, put on a makeshift cast. They ask her questions, and Frederika fudges her answers until Sam notices that her bruised toe indicates that she kicked something. "Okay," she levels. "There's this really creepy guy who keeps flashing us during practice from outside the fence, opening his coat, and he's naked underneath...It's really gross." Luka coughs, "I bet." Evidently they got sick of it, and the cops didn't catch him when they we called, so this time the entire class charged him. "I'm pretty sure we kicked his ass," she says. Sam looks amused.
In Trauma Yellow, all hell-ow is breaking loose. Oh my God, I must be tired. Luis has a fever and needs to be checked for sepsis, and he's beginning to seize. As everyone rolls him, Carter asks Neela what his medical record says. "I'll see if it came in," she says. "You didn't get it yet?" Carter yells.
Cut to Neela sprinting through the ER, barraged by patients and nurses wanting her attention. "Slow down, you're showing us all up," Gallant teases. Neela snatches some paper from the fax machine and screeches that Luis is seizing and isn't stable. Gallant runs after her.
Neela arrives in Trauma Yellow with the list. "Why didn't we have it before?" Carter rails. "Fax wasn't in," Neela pants. She skims it and says the only new thing on it is that he was switched to an antidepressant that's an MAO inhibitor. Carter asks what pain medication they gave him, and Gallant quickly says, "Morphine." Neela gulps. "No, Demerol," she says. "He had nausea with morphine...." Carter realizes that this is a huge problem -- Demerol can have fatal reactions with MAO inhibitors, and he snaps into action as Neela sucks wind, deflated.
As Chuck waits petulantly for Susan, Weaver tells him that she got Pervy to drop the threats. "What do I have to do?" Chuck asks. "You don't have to do anything," she replies. Chuck turns around, and as he does, we cut inside the room where Susan's standing, and we see Chuck notice that Pervy is kneeling before Susan and hugging her belly, his cheek pressed to the Chuckus. Kick him, little Chuckus! Be as excitable as your Dad! Pervy asks if he can lift up her shirt, and Susan hisses that he shouldn't push his luck. Then he tries to feel her up a little. People? There's a reason Chicago Hope got cancelled. I can't believe that Susan went for this. I can't believe Weaver allowed it. It's such a thin attempt at comic relief in a depressing episode. Cheap! Inept! HATE. Susan points at Chuck and violently mouths, "I'm going to KILL YOU," and midsentence we cut outside to Chuck watching the tail end of this (Paul McCrane seems fond of these types of cuts, and for the most part they work). "I'll get Chuny to put battery acid in his IV," Jerry says soothingly. Luka passes and asks what's going on; Chuck replies that he defended Susan from a freak. "And ended up getting her molested," giggles Jerry. Oh, so not Chuck's fault.
Sam and Luka's love train stops at George Deakins station. He's another weaselly bald guy -- I think this show has a particular hatred, don't you? -- and he's wearing a trench coat. He's trying to claim that he was mugged. Sam asks him to open his coat and he balks, but she insists it's okay, so he gets this weird serene expression on his face and unzips the coat, throwing it open with "Drink it in, ladies" gusto. "Get him a drape," Luka says, disgusted. "Cocktail napkin ought to do it," Sam snorts. Flasher gives her a look like, "Oh yeah? Well...yeah, you're not wrong." She then notices a tennis racket imprint on his cheek. Luka glances over at Frederika and sets his jaw. "So, George," he says. "You a sports fan?" As he says this, he snaps his rubber glove sharply, which is always my favorite way to punctuate a scene. It's so...potentially invasive.
Luis isn't doing too well. Carter is trying to figure out what happened; Neela explains that she pushed the Demerol because Abby was called out of the room. "It's not her fault," Neela says quickly. Carter can't believe Neela gave drugs without having a medical history in her hand, and Neela replies that she didn't want to wait because Luis was in pain. She could throw in Carter's face the fact that she asked him and didn't pay attention to the problem, but because he was busy when she asked and she was at the time trying to be assertive, Neela does not point to that. Carter's pissed off that she never got through to a doctor or nurse at the home, despite her contention that they were too busy to talk to her -- and, it sounds like she was dealing with a real asshole receptionist, which often means you can't get anywhere no matter how hard you try. Yeah, that's right, Woman At My Dentist's Office. I am looking right at you. The camera slowly pushes on Gallant as they bicker, and finally he bursts forth with "I gave her the order." Everyone stops. "I thought you said morphine," Carter says slowly. Gallant insists that he ordered Neela to change it when she found the contra-indication, and just forgot because he was preoccupied. Neela looks shocked. Abby, who also knows the truth, doesn't get a cutaway here, so we don't know if she's thinking about the lie, or smoking, or smoking lies, or corned beef hash. This is a very clumsy cover story indeed, but luckily for them, Carter doesn't stop to realize that his birthday was not yesterday, but in fact is in June; therefore, he laps up the slop they're dishing into his bowl. "We have to wait and see if he lives," Carter intones. Neela looks devastated.
Flasher wants to leave, but Luka says he has to speak with the police first. "About my mugging?" he asks, worried. "...Yeah," Luka says unconvincingly. What is wrong with people on this show today? Have they all forgotten how to tell a convincing lie? It's not that hard. Watch: "I have to say, even though Jewel has fucked-up teeth, I really respect her as an artist and a poet." See? I did it! Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some bile to swallow. Flasher looks agitated.
Susan charges out of Pervy's room like a mad cow. "I'm going to kill you," she snarls at Chuck. He tries to defend himself, but she steamrolls him with a diatribe about how stupid and worthless men are. Shut UP, Susan. I can't wait until the Chuckus pops out male. Behind them, Flasher tip-toes out of the hospital past a gaggle of Frederika's classmates, one of whom notices him with horror. Chuck's tail is firmly between his legs as he trots after Susan and meekly suggests that perhaps degenerates come in all genital shapes. "The sad part is, they always get away with it," Susan sighs. Cue the schoolgirls: They pounce on the fleeing Flasher and smack him with their tennis rackets. And suddenly we're in the middle of some insane cartoonish slapstick flick. It's like they put The Big Book Of Genres in a blender and drew pieces at random. Nicely directed by Paul McCrane, though -- his timing is great.
Carter checks out Luis's chart and notices that there's no written order for Demerol. Gallant snatches it and scribbles something onto the chart, muttering that he was too busy and putting down the order for 10:23. "Dr. Gallant, can I speak with you?" Neela says in a low voice. "You're right, it was more like 10:45," Gallant says, keeping up the cover as he hands the chart back to Carter. Now, I think Carter should've stopped him right here -- if the order didn't make it onto the chart at the time, then he should not have let Gallant add anything to the chart in hindsight, even if Gallant were telling the truth. He should have pulled them aside in a few minutes and discussed it before anyone altered the chart, making sure he believed Gallant to his own satisfaction and explained the whole false-chart-as-felony thing. Not well handled by Carter. Luis isn't breathing, and as his newly arrived family watches, Carter commands Neela to put in the tube. She shoots a sickened look into the middle distance, and we fade to black feeling pretty sorry for her, and endlessly grateful that we work in a profession where one error in a pressure situation does not end up killing someone. Although it does get awfully dicey sometimes when we're printing up reams of paper and things are crazy and there are paper cuts.
Sam installs Flasher in the Pervert Ward, and interestingly, the old dude from earlier doesn't protest being included in this. Pervy protests, "'Perv' is a relative term, honey." Only in West Virginia and parts of Kentucky. Sam threatens to give him the longest Foley catheter in the world if he calls her that again, and Pervy leans back like, "Hey, yeah, all right, is there a fetus in that?" The old guy just nods and enjoys the show.
Outside the room, Luka whispers that he's solved Sam's problem. Sam thanks him sincerely, but insists that it's her problem. "See, that's your first mistake," Luka smiles, leaning into her. She stares up at him kind of adoringly as he puts his arm around her and says he's put his plan in motion and everything's under control. I do hope he's having a cadaver from the morgue wrapped and sent to their apartment.
Frank wanders into the ER, but no one notices. "Hello?" he calls out. Jerry and Carter actually light up, Jerry in particular. Man crush, anyone? Frank's stopping by after a rehabilitation session. "Want to see the scar?" he asks. "No, but there's a guy in 2 who might want to touch it," Sam jokes. She's not wrong. Frank excitedly says he's able to do two miles on the treadmill for the first time in his life, and tries to pretend he's loving the life of luxury and leisure so much that he's not sure when he'll be back. "Where's Dr. Pratt?" he asks, idly. "Off today," Jerry says. "Tell him I owe him a beer," Frank says. Then, as he leaves, he stops and says rather gruffly, "My doctor's not ready for me to come back yet. It's going to be a while. But I do miss everybody...I just wanted to say that." With that, he leaves, and they all smile, because his bigoted heart grew three sizes that day -- which probably just means he can fit more hate inside it.
A four-year-old boy who's short of breath is wheeled into the ER with his father. Luka takes him into Trauma Green, where he discovers that the kid's altered and his spleen is enlarged. Luka wants him checked for sickle cell disease, but the father insists it isn't possible -- his wife has the genetic markers, but he doesn't, so the kid can't have it. Translation: The kid has it, and the father doesn't -- genetically speaking -- have a kid. Quietly, Luka tells Sam to run the sickle cell test.
Gallant and Neela uncomfortably try to explain to Luis's wife what happened. She's cheerful and prefers to think of the glass as half-full, noting that the 30% chance of death that Neela's quoting means that there's a 70% chance he will live. She then exposits that the fact that he's alive is in itself a miracle, because he wasn't supposed to wake up from his fall. "He's really smart, you know? He was going to go back to school..." the wife babbles. And there it is: humanization of the victim, a.k.a. the final, fatal stage of Tertiary Character Disease. Neela is slowly becoming more agitated.
Later, Neela confronts Gallant for lying about what happened. "I'm partly to blame," Gallant says. Neela doesn't think that's a good reason. "Do you want to match, or don't you?" Gallant says with a touch of impatience. "I do, but only if I deserve it," she insists. Gallant thinks she does, and begs her to let it be his fault. Carter interrupts them and dispatches Gallant on another task. Carter studies Neela. "Is there something I should know about?" he asks, suspiciously. Yes: scissors. "No," Neela gulps. Carter prattles on about how Gallant, as the supervising resident (although I thought he was an intern -- didn't he just graduate? "Intern" must be a synonym for "first-year resident"), should know better than to push drugs without a medical history. Neela can't hold it in any longer, and blurts that she's actually to blame for everything that happened. "I assessed it, ordered it, pushed it," she says of the Demerol. Carter blinks and holds his head, and you get the sense he's only digesting this as it pertains to the success or failure of Project Neela. "And you didn't run it by an Attending or resident?" he asks. No. "And you did it because I asked you to be more autonomous?" Carter cringes. She nods. Suck on that, John. He tells her that they need to talk about it, and walks away. Sam shows up long enough to tell Neela that her instinct with the kidney stone was correct. This doesn't make Neela feel any better, because when you fail a test, it doesn't really matter if you knew the answer to No. 7.
The little boy, Tevin, is feeling a lot better after being medicated. Unsurprising. Luka takes the father aside and quietly reveals that the son has sickle cell disease. "I don't carry the gene," the man says, blinking with noncomprehension. They bicker about whose test was wrong, and Luka asks him to sign off on a more detailed blood analysis so that they can be absolutely sure. Luka sort of dances around the fact that if the father doesn't carry the markers, then he isn't the father at all. But Daddy DNA gets it, and demands that his blood be tested along with his son's. Luka blinks. In all his medical scenes lately, he looks tired. I hope he's not bored. I can't recap this show without him.
Gallant asks Neela why Carter wants to see him. She confesses that she told the truth, and Gallant throws up his hands. "No one needed to know! That was the point!" he argues. Suddenly, Luis's wife runs out into the hall screaming for help. When they get inside Trauma Yellow, they find Luis in v-tach. "He can't be dying," the woman wails. "This isn't supposed to happen!" Sure it is. All the signs of The Jinx were there: Neela was heaped with praise, the guy had a family, and the wife herself said nice things about him. It adds up. This show performs alchemy -- it can turn anything positive into misery. We fade to black off Neela's devastation for the third consecutive time.
When we return, Neela is frantically performing compressions, but it's been forty-two minutes and Luis is in asystole. She wants to keep trying, but an arriving Weaver calls off the heroic measures and orders them all into the suture room for a little chat. Ooh, now that would've been a good time for her to put on a rubber glove with one of those decisive snaps. When the machines go off, Neela lets out a little gasp. Abby just watches.
Tevin's tests confirmed the sickle cell diagnosis. Again. Daddy DNA stops Luka short of telling him the results of his own test because he knows that it won't affect his health, and for all emotional and nurturing purposes he is the child's father. He explains stuff we don't care about -- they split up for a few weeks, dated, then reunited and she got pregnant and they're happy -- and insists that he doesn't need to know the truth. "I'll tell her that I'm a carrier," he says firmly. "He got it from both of us." And the wife arrives, so Luka leaves them to their lie -- clearly, if the guy gave this speech and really was the father, Luka would've said, "Well, don't worry about it, because you're his father anyway." When Sam asks if Daddy DNA turned out to be the father, Luka says, "Yes," and crumples up the test results that obviously prove he is not. Gingerly, Sam brings up the way she shot down all Luka's suggestions, and apologizes for it. Hey! Growth! I'd forgotten what you look like! "Maybe Mr. Jekyll's wasn't such a bad idea," she concedes. "Mr. Hyde's," Luka laughs. "I just wanted it to be special," she laments. Luka promises that it will be, and tells her to be ready to leave in half an hour. Sam beams.
Weaver snaps shut the mini-blinds on the suture room. "Was the med list current?" she asks. Carter begs her to stick to protocol and let him confer with the gang before they discuss things with her, but Weaver doesn't care. "Was it current, or not?" she barks. "It was...recent," Carter says. "Wasn't completely up-to-date." Neela says she tried to check it. "Abby, why didn't you push [the Demerol]?" Abby points out that she was out of the room, "but the result wouldn't have been any different." They've taken pains to keep Abby's feelings on the matter out of this, which on the one hand is nice, because it's not generally relevant, yet on another it sort of contravenes the friendship she and Neela have built. I don't buy that Neela wouldn't have asked Abby's advice, at least, for whatever that would have been worth, or that she wouldn't have spoken to Abby after the incident and before talking to Carter. The show needs to milk the relationships it's building right, and I think Abby and Neela have or had a neat friendship. Weaver points out that, as a nurse, it's Abby's job to check allergies and interactions. "I thought that had been done, to the best of anybody's ability," she says defensively. Should she, then, have told Neela to wait for the official fax? Maybe. It's all a little nebulous. Carter points out the obvious, which is that they were stuck trying to manage pain with incomplete information. "A jury isn't going to see it that way," Weaver says. Yuck. I know it's her job, but my God, she's charmless.
Weaver wants to know who made the decision to use Demerol. "I did," says Neela. Gallant immediately pipes up that Neela is trying to protect him. There's some bickering that Kerry silences with a piercing "Do you need a few minutes to get your stories straight?" Everyone stares at the floor. Gallant, Neela, and Carter all have their hands shoved into their pockets, and Abby's arms are crossed. They're a postcard from Guilt City in Guiltissippi, and the card reads, "We're really, really sorry you got stuck here with engine trouble." Weaver, I think, realizes that something is very wrong, and her tone turns gentler when she asks what is on the chart. Gallant says it confirms what he has already said. "And is that accurate?" Weaver asks. No one answers. "Like I said, I wasn't in the room," Carter hedges. "IS IT ACCURATE?" Weaver demands, edgier. "As far as I know, yeah," Carter shrugs. Gallant and Neela look like they want to vomit, but can't, because the budget didn't cover even one comet this week, much less two. Weaver lectures them: "A young man comes in here and dies of a lethal drug reaction that could've been prevented with one phone call." Sound familiar, Kerry? But, betraying nothing, she upholds her commitment to her beloved Hypocritic Oath. "time, why don't we just sent a blank check to the family's attorney?" Weaver tsks. She doesn't even care about the tragic loss of human life due to human error -- she's just worried about what it will cost the hospital. What a caricature. Kerry's moral ambiguity used to be fascinating, and now it's just empty. Rather than a balancing act, it's a see-saw -- one week she's likable, another she's shrill. All nuance is lost, and I'm sad to say that in this scene it feels a little bit like Laura Innes dropped the ball. She could've infused that one line, especially, with a little bit more.
Alex bolts into the ER shouting for his mother. "Son of Sam is back," Jerry mutters. As much as I'd like to think this is a shout-out to the forums, I don't think ER is a shout-out kind of show. And if it were, it'd do something less low-key, like have the vomit comet unload all over a computer Jerry was using to read a TV-themed website. Sam is surprised to see Alex. "Luka picked me up," he shouts. "It's amazing! We can get there by 11 if we hurry!" Dumbfounded, Sam lets herself be led outside, where she sees that Luka has parked a giant RV that's towing a small motorboat. She gapes. "Isn't it awesome? It's bigger than our whole apartment!" Alex cheers, bounding aboard. Luka grins to Sam that he's planned a weekend of camping, fishing, and burning s'mores. "Do you even know what that is?" she giggles. No, Sam. He's stupid. He lives in a hole, and he's stupid. "White thing on a stick," Luka jokes. Sam is amazed that he rented them a spot at Lake Geneva, and leans in for a tender kiss while making a baseball reference -- the kind that would indicate that Luka's odds tonight of rounding the bases are excellent. Alex honks the horn, so they stop kissing, and Sam leaps up the RV steps while wondering aloud how Luka's going to back it out of there. Luka whips his head around and realizes that he might be a bit screwed. I'm sure the ambulance drivers and their dying patients, who can't get to the hospital now, will be okay with their emergency parking space being used for a romantic gesture: "I crashed in the rig because it was parked three blocks away, but at least Luka's not sleeping with hookers again." That's how life works.
Elizabeth trots down to Reception in a frilly flowered blouse and asks Abby if she knows a good cheap red wine that goes with spicy food. "I have a date," Elizabeth smiles. "Two nights in a row?" Abby asks, impressed. "It's with the teacher tonight," Elizabeth confesses. "Okay," Abby says, pausing. "Zinfandel." She walks away. Elizabeth is overcome with uncertainty, and chases Abby to confess in a nervous whisper that she's honestly not comfortable juggling the two men. "If we were guys, we'd be talking about carburetors right now," Abby says dryly. No you wouldn't -- you'd be talking about breasts. "You don't think it's...slutty?" Elizabeth asks desperately. Abby says no. "I just won't sleep with him," Elizabeth lies. "That sounds like a good plan," Abby says, well aware that Elizabeth is lying. As Elizabeth leaves, Abby asks Jerry, "When did I become the guru of sluttiness?" When Chen clocked out for the day. And way to keep that conversation private, Abby.
Carter finds Neela frowning. She says she thinks she is going to delete emergency medicine from her match list. "It was one mistake, and I pushed you too hard," says Carter. Maybe if they'd been critiquing her all along, that wouldn't have been a problem. Neela, though, says that she knows they were all right about her. "Nothing I did on this shift can convince me or anyone else that I belong here," she sighs. I disagree -- she handled a hectic patient load well. It's just the trauma where she was weak. Which is a problem, but she's not as woefully incompetent as she seems to think. "Yesterday, you were too cautious," Carter says. "Today, you were a little too reckless. Somewhere in the middle is the way to practice emergency medicine." Could he have told her that, like, a month ago? Or a few hours ago? Carter, Carter, Carter...you're making me crazy here, man. You're unwatchable. Neela frowns and peeks at Gallant through the trauma-room window.
Cut into the room, where Gallant is staring morosely at Luis. Neela enters. Without looking at her, Gallant tells her that he shouldn't have left her alone until Luis was stable. "It's my fault," he says. "What you did was the sweetest, dumbest thing anyone has ever done for me," she says, choked. And suddenly we're in the turning point of a bad chick flick. "Something like this could've derailed your career," Gallant says. "The worst that'll happen to me is discipline, counseling...I'll be all right." He then confesses that he was thinking of asking Neela out. "I was thinking of saying yes," she sniffles, bolting out of the room and landing in the drug lock-up, sobbing. Oh, please. It's sweet and all, but we've only been waiting all season for these two to develop into something. And after throwing us one bone (the dance) and ignoring them the rest of the time, now all of a sudden Gallant and Neela are in the throes of angsty affection? Is Julia Roberts in this movie somewhere? She's not going to be taking off Richard Gere's shirt, is she? Chuny asks Neela to fetch a drug, but notices that she's crying. "I'm fine -- I'll take care of it," Neela cries. "Let me help you," Chuny says. "I said I can do it!" shouts Neela bitterly. Chuny understands, though, and leaves quietly and sympathetically. Neela slides to the floor with heaving sobs.
At Minivan's house, Elizabeth awkwardly tries to get out of there without giving in to her impulses. But of course her coat's in his bedroom. "I'll help you find it," he says adorably, as if he thinks that's code for "let's get it on," which of course it is. There's a lot of uncomfortable talk about the girls, and Elizabeth takes her coat and Ella's duck toy from Minivan before wishing him an insincere goodbye. They stare at each other for a second; Elizabeth pounces first. As they hit the bed off-camera, we hear the squeak of the poor, sad, crushed little toy -- roadkill on the horizontal highway -- and it's perfect punctuation. I love that Elizabeth's gone from harridan to borderline hussy. And she's got great taste in men. The show must feel really, really guilty about putting Alex Kingston through Season 8 (and a lot of other seasons), because so far she's gotten some hot love interests.
Gallant shuffles sadly out of the hospital. Carter is waiting in the ambulance bay, either for Gallant or for his cab. "Should've come and talked to me," Carter says. Apparently Carter prefers giving all his speeches outside. He must think the night air gives him an authoritative flush. Gallant is silent. "Know why I backed you up in there?" Carter asks. "'Cause if Weaver knew the truth, you'd be done." Get off it, Carter. He barely backed up Gallant -- "I wasn't in the room," and "As far as I know" count as the barest, most cursory, most technical of supportive statements. "I know you went out on a limb for me," Gallant says. "I could just say I got confused." Carter points out that this defense isn't going to hold, because Gallant falsified the chart -- which, aside from making it look like a clearly thought-out action, is a felony. Gallant realizes that his ass is in a vise, and panics that they should go tear up the chart immediately. "It's TOO LATE," Carter yells. Noah Wyle is the master of inappropriate use of volume. He's constantly bellowing when there's no cause for it. "It's already up in Legal," Carter says, his tone back down to normal already. Gallant bites his lip. "You know, you guys sit up there, and you decide who's going to go and who's going to stay...I mean, why did you have to push her? Why'd you have to push her?" Gallant says, gutted. "The only reason she screwed up is because you scared her into thinking she wasn't good enough!" And he's right, but he's also trying desperately to make sense of his own blunder, and Carter knows it. "We're talking about you now, Michael," he says. Gallant's face falls, because Carter dropped the first-name bomb, and that's how he knows he's fucked. "I wasn't thinking," Gallant breathes, shaking his head. Sharif Atkins is so heartbreaking in this scene. I wish they'd use him more. But as we know, the characters who seem nice and show layers (Gallant, Coop) take the back seat to idiots and caricatures (Malarkey, Pratt). Carter looks at him with condescending smug sadness, and I want to slap the shit-ugly coif off his smarmy pig-ignorant head. "I'm sorry," Gallant says. "Yeah," says Carter. SHUT UP, CARTER. He's driving me nuts. Way to downplay your role in tweaking a med student's psyche enough that she makes a hurried, harried decision. Everyone's to blame here. I'd like to see Carter actually confront that with himself. And then fight himself. With fists.
Inside, Neela wipes the drying tears from her eyes, reaches for the drug Chuny wanted, and hauls herself to her feet. She heads off down the hall to begin again, and the camera lets her go. Overall, a nice, smooth, yet stylized directing job from Paul McCrane.