With apologies for the massive digression: this past weekend, I was standing on a giant field at the Coachella music festival waiting for The Flaming Lips to begin its set. Idly I swung my head to the right and noticed that only one small man separated me from Abraham Benrubi, a.k.a. lovable desk clerk Jerry. Yes, I live in Los Angeles, and yet in the middle of a giant sea of people -- in the desert, of all places -- I saw my first ER cast member. Because I have no balls, though, and because I didn't want to be That Freak, I didn't walk up to him and ask if he reads the site, or even shake his hand and commend him on how consistently endearing he is on the show, or compliment him on his nipple. No, all I did was laugh. So, Abraham Benrubi, if you are reading this, and you remember the 5'5" pale girl with a reddish ponytail in a blue tank top who was standing more or less to you while singing "Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots, Pt. 1," then: Hey! That was me! Hi. And now back to the regularly scheduled recap, written before the aforementioned Coachella incident.
Welcome to another installment of, "Recapping On-The-Go: How To Hamper Yourself As Much As Possible." This time, I'm coming to you live from the Oakland airport, operating on only three hours of mediocre sleep, staring down the barrel of a four-hour layover, and about to face the notes I took last night while exhausted, lingering in a food coma, and quite possibly drunk. Will they be relatively unintelligible? Yes. Am I cranky? Yes. Am I sitting to two water fountains and the men's room door because that's where the only discernible outlet is in this godforsaken terminal? Yes.
Previously on Execrable Recapping, I swear, my notes say, "Ke gome, neela says, seizure girl freaks." What I believe that means is: Kem left Chicago but planned to return for the Cartus's birth, Neela lamented that everyone thinks she's better suited to a research lab, and Seizure Mom...well, had a seizure; however, that could be a string of pretentiously and deliberately uncapitalized titles on my forthcoming alternative rock album entitled twee e. cummings. Also, Sam's ex showed up, we met Poindexter and Yuri, Abby failed her boards, Abby started her Psych rotation, and Kerry fought to get Henry for one weekend. Good God, that was a chopped salad of a previously-on -- who the hell wrote that?
When we begin, Kerry's holding Henry and talking to her lawyer, the esteemed Mr. Bald -- but if my notes are to be believed, "Mt. Nalf." Which sounds like a cute epithet for barfing: "Yeah, dude, I was totally hiking Mount Nalf after that last High Life." Kerry begs him for another day with Henry, but he quite rightly points out that she just signed papers indicating that she would be satisfied with returning him at noon on Monday after a weekend together. Until the court awards her custody, he generously says, she's basically stuck with two weekends a month, and, if she's smart, some stock in whoever makes Kleenex. He urges her not to violate the Lopezes' trust on this one, given that they're on the eve of a custody hearing. "It isn't right," Kerry says plaintively. "You could get him back in two weeks," The Bald And The Beautiful tells her. "Until then, you have to find a way to live with it."
At the start of the scene, through my red wine haze, I apparently thought Carter looked "startled and a little wet." He's in O'Hare Airport, and he's looking through a sea of bodies for somebody. Kem calls out his name, and he happily moves to her and slides a hand along her belly as he envelops her in a big hug. From what I can tell, even this close to her delivery date, Kem is as pregnant as I am. And for the record, Mom, that's not "slightly." I was going to comment on the fact that Kem was traveling so close to her due date, but the clever folks on the forums found out that it's not as taboo as it used to be. So. On we go.
I realize that this is all a little inside-baseball for people who don't really care how I recap, or what my notes look like, but I'm easily entertained by my own idiocy. Therefore, I'm going to share with you the following stirring passage, brought to you at 1:30 AM by the collective force of my descriptive powers: "Lab. Idiots. Blah blah blah blah, science babble, Neela impresses them with her sciency, he asks what she's doing, blah blah blah blah she asks why they're blah blah blah blah they're impressed, she questions them, boring boring, one asks if she has a boyfriend." That is powerful prose. I love sciency. Do they give recapping Pulitzers? The translation is basically that Neela is in the lab with Poindexter and Yuri, and that she's working hard and impressing them by questioning some of their procedures in absolutely the correct way. Poindexter drools all over this, because jargon is sexy. Actually, though, it kind of is, when uttered in a British accent.
Abby and Big Ears talk casually as she heads to the group session that day. She more or less confesses to flunking the boards the first time, and he jokingly tells her to write down "TB" if it's offered as an answer, because TB is usually right. I'm going to remember that time I play Trivial Pursuit. ["Other good go-to Trivial Pursuit answers: Cassius Clay, David Niven, and Hitler. Trust me. Oh, and volcano questions are always about Krakatoa." -- Wing Chun] Abby enters the room and sits down in front of all the wackos we saw last week, plus Flasher, who's evidently joined the group in light of his affinity for exposing his extracurriculars to kilted schoolgirls. "I was over-sexualized at a young age," he insists. Abby notices that they're down their requisite suicidal guy, and Stanley -- the argumentative one with heavy eyeliner -- tsks that poor Suicidal Larry wasn't just all talk. "He took pills, drank a bottle of gin, slit his wrists, and jumped into Lake Michigan," he sighs, with all the grief of someone who's just frayed the business end of his shoelace so much that it's hard to feed through the holes -- thus damning his laces to a lifetime of annoying, stunted, accursed semi-usefulness, waiting to be replaced. I think that's also what it feels like to be Nick Lachey. Or a member of Menudo. "Larry really wanted to be dead," observes one girl sympathetically. Abby is taken aback that she's lost a patient already. "Don't worry, dear, you're really very good at this," another woman says soothingly. Hee. Everyone assures her that they love Abby's sessions. "Everybody but Larry," Eyeliner clarifies cheerfully. We smash to the credits wondering why the hell JetBlue wouldn't yank my luggage from my scheduled flight so that I could fly standby on the one that's boarding right this second in front of my angry, wan face. I suppose some of that wasn't apparent from the scene or interpretable from the subtext, but I assure you, it's all there.
In her apartment, Kerry is frantically making travel arrangements for herself and Henry, while trying to pack her belongings. Clearly, Kerry and Sandy never went to the movies during their courtship, or she'd know that going on the lam with a kid always results in heartbreak, because someone hot but sympathetic will find you and, despite really feeling for you, will return the kid anyway. That is, if the child's wisdom beyond his or her years doesn't prompt you to do it first. A knock on the door interrupts her plans, and Kerry answers it, because the first thing you do when you're trying to skip town is get the door. It's Elizabeth, chirpily -- for her -- lugging in a box of Ella's old clothes that are apparently gender non-specific. Elizabeth is wearing a gorgeous lavender coat that I covet mightily and greedily. Poor Henry. No longer the cutest thing in the scene. Elizabeth rattles off a list of what she brought, but trails off when she notices the telltale signs of an escape-in-progress: namely, mess and suitcases. And a passport, which shoots to hell Kerry's feeble lie that she's going to visit a cardiologist friend in Seattle. "I...lost my license..." Kerry stammers pathetically. She then curtly thanks Elizabeth in an effort to get her out, but Elizabeth cautiously tells Kerry that she's concerned. "Don't do anything that you might regret later," Elizabeth warns. "Thank you for the clothes," Weaver says robotically. No, she said don't do anything you'll regret later --- those are last season's styles, Kerry! Last season! STEP AWAY from the hand-me-downs!
I just violated a very long-held personal belief that one should rarely, if ever, deploy exclamation points. Although I sometimes allow them when riddled with sarcasm, so I think I can still sleep tonight.
Abby does a Psych consult on a guy who was walking down Michigan Avenue with a sword. "There were no buses," he says in his defense. "Okay, I was more interested in the sword part," Abby says dryly. My sister Julie takes this opportunity to unsheathe her authentic British naval officer's sword, because really, one doesn't get too many opportunities in life to unsheathe a sword without its being dangerously out of context. There are some shenanigans on the show about a guinea pig named Cookie whose days of hay and pellet-shaped excrement may be over, having been forced to give over its blood to this wacko's costume, but I stopped transcribing at that point because Julie still hadn't returned her blade to its home, and typing at sword-point is surprisingly difficult. Malarkey is there, but do you care what he said? You don't. Neither did spell check.
As Abby walks through the ER, Chen wheels in a seizing woman whom Abby recognizes as Seizure Mom; she halts Chen's prescription of Ativan and explains that it's a fake seizure. Chen trusts Abby, and promises to push saline so that psychologically the woman thinks she's been treated and stops convulsing. Sure enough, despite a skeptical look from Haleh that would wither a plastic rose, Chen gives Seizure Mom the saline and she calms down in an instant. Take that, Haleh. Abby learns that the woman has had three to four seizure a day since her last ER visit, so she pulls aside the husband, Nick; she explains that his wife's head scan and EEG were both normal after her last seizure, indicating that it's psychosomatic. He's irritated and wants to talk to a real doctor, but Abby insists the words would be the same and tells him that the only way his wife will get admitted and helped is if she's sent up to Psych. He agrees reluctantly, and Abby heaves a sigh.
While phoning up the details, Abby's interrupted by Elizabeth, who's wondering if Abby has seen Kerry. She's worried, and isn't sure whom else she can talk to about Kerry, because nobody else really cares where Kerry is beyond a nagging urge to hide her crutch somewhere obscene. "She seems distressed," Elizabeth says. "She's in mourning," Abby counters. Elizabeth adds that she thinks Kerry wants to flee with Henry; Abby nods that while she's sympathetic to Kerry, Elizabeth might want to speak with someone closer to her. "Right," Elizabeth nods. "Like who?" Whom. Right? Cue the lovely and talented Wing Chun -- boss, grammarian, friend, and lethal killing machine. ["Oh, dude. 'Who'/'Whom' is my Waterloo." -- Wing Chun]
Sam sashays into the lounge and encounters Luka. "How you doing?" she asks brightly. "Good," he says, swiftly asking after Alex because he and Sam don't really have any shared experiences to talk about right this minute because Contrivance hammered between them a chubby, stubbly wedge named Steve. "He wants to know if you've gotten that plasma screen yet," she smiles. "Not yet," Luka says. Except that we know he already has one. Way to go, writers. And don't try claiming that he sold it before he decided not to return to Africa, because it's way more fun thinking that you screwed up. Sam takes a breath and apologizes for not calling, blaming it on "still figuring things out with Steve." She pretends she's sure he's not staying much longer, although maybe I'm not giving her enough credit, and she then swears they're not "together" or anything of a genitally bonding ilk. "He sleeps on the couch," she says lamely to a silent, stoic Luka. As is her wont, apparently, Abby interrupts this awkward moment. "How's it going?" she asks, uncharacteristically upbeat. "Never better," Luka says through clenched teeth, slamming the door of his locker.
Kem and Carter arrive at their new townhouse. "What'd you do?" she asks, smiling. "Not much," he says. The place seems to be in some disarray; I can't really tell, but it looks like he's been trying to get it furnished for her, but a lot of his stuff is still in boxes around the living room. Carter can't wait to show Kem the nursery. "Did you operate the screwdriver yourself, Mr. Fix-It?" she asks lightly. Of course he did, Kem. How else did he get you pregnant? "So this is our home?" she asks, and the look on her face is inscrutable. If I had to guess, I'd say she looks wary. And she sounds as excited as if Carter offered to make her a Knob Salad for dinner.
Abby somehow manages to re-enter the lounge that we hadn't seen her leave yet; this time, instead of stumbling in on clumsy sexual tension, she interrupts some rampant heartstring-tugging, as Kerry is cooing and coddling little Henry. Kerry reveals that Florina is coming to take him away. Abby offers to come get Kerry when Florina arrives, but Kerry deflects her efforts a few times. "I'm not sure I can do this," she finally blurts, looking up at Abby with helpless eyes. "I know this part sucks, but he's gonna end up with you," Abby says. Oh, good. No reason to make us sit through the custody battle, then, right?
Seizure Mom can't believe what Big Ears is telling her, but a man with an aural capacity that enormous wouldn't waste hers with false words. "I've never had [psychological] trouble like that," she insists. "I'm not crazy." Abby is there, gently explaining that nobody thinks she is, and that she's only going to be in the Psych ward until they get to the root of the problem. "After that, you can go wherever you need to go to get healthy," she says. Seizure Mom remains skeptical, so Abby plays the "If you go home, you'll endanger your baby" card, and that's enough to win the game.
Impressed, Big Ears leaves with Abby, complimenting her on her perceptiveness, her "bedside manner of an ER doc and...empathetic eyes of an overworked nurse." She laughs sarcastically that she's got a whole passel of talents. "All I have to do is pass my boards," she sighs. Florina interrupts this -- is this whole show a series of interruptions? -- to ask Abby if she'll get Kerry for them, because when they asked for Kerry, Florina was directed to Abby, and that rings her shenanigans bell. "Just wait right here," Abby tells her. "Is there a problem?" Mr. Lopez asks. "No," Abby says brusquely, pushing through the double doors.
When Abby bursts into the lounge, Weaver of course isn't there. Dramatic baby-stealing music plays. Abby strides out of there trying to look unconcerned, only to bump into Florina, who ignored Abby's directive to stay put and apparently figured out how to bust through those unsecured swinging double doors, that evil genius. Abby roughly runs around them and tries to ask around about Kerry's whereabouts. Mr. Lopez -- who might actually really be the Lopezes' lawyer -- babbles on and on and on about the court agreement and violations and whatnot. "Shut up!" Abby barks at him. Wow, that's rude. I know she's frustrated, but...wow. She's as abrasive as bleach on a baby's skin.
Bursting outside, Abby sees Weaver with Henry in the ambulance bay, and the chimes of doom switch to the tinkling piano of a mother's love. I'm so grateful for the music, because without it, I wouldn't know what to think or feel. Weaver holds the baby up to the sky and gurgles at him. Florina, looking gray and angry, stalks up to her. "He likes to be held up the sky," Weaver says haltingly, in a really weird and overwrought Lifetime Television For Women moment. If Meredith Baxter-Birney shows up anywhere in here, I'll know that something went horribly wrong with my sister's VCR. Florina wordlessly takes Henry and hustles away with him, leaving a bereft Kerry. Abby sits down silently to her, and they both watch Florina go. We fade to black relieved that the whole fleeing storyline didn't get dragged on and on, but honestly a little sad that it means we're going to have to sit through some courtroom crap.
Kem plays with a mobile that's hanging over the crib in the nursery. Carter struggles through the door with a giant present, which is apparently from everyone in the ER. "I was hoping for a puppy," Carter quips. "But I don't see any air holes." They open it; it's another crib. Carter jokingly asks if she's having twins, and then tells her he has to go to a board meeting at the old mansion. "Oh my God, John, we're having a boy," Kem frown-whines, also managing to work some awe into it. She can't believe it, and wonders if they really thought it through. Carter figures they didn't, but that they didn't overthink and overplan and analyze it to death, either, and that's why he thinks it's right. "This is a life that we're responsible for. You and me," Kem says, earnestly. Maybe she should eat something, then, so that she doesn't look quite so much like she's a slim woman who ate a few too many Whoppers that afternoon. "We're ready," he insists. Then he invites her to Gamma's mansion for the meeting, which doesn't interest her one iota -- not even when he entices her by suggesting she'll ruffle some feathers -- until she finds out she'll get to meet the elusive Pa Carter, a.k.a. Stephen Keaton.
Abby and Ken The Social Worker are interviewing Seizure Mom and her husband to get a sense of what their situation is. They're really tired of answering questions about the state of their marriage, and so have the demeanor of defensive people who want the doctors to get lost up a tree. Apparently, Nick is self-employed, so he's home to help change diapers, although they would like to be able to afford a nanny. Ken asks if Seizure Mom is concerned about her ability to care for her daughter, and Seizure Mom snaps with disgust, "What do you think? As long as I'm sick, I can't hold her. Can't take care of her." Ken nods, "So you do want to get better." She hates the question; Abby interjects in a soft tone that sometimes people who get sick feel safer at a hospital and prefer to stay there. Nick insists that his wife wants to get better and go home. "You're one of those people who think I'm faking," Seizure Mom accuses Abby sadly. "That's what you all think." Abby insists that isn't true. "Then how come you can't fix it?" Seizure Mom asks.
Cut to Ken telling Abby that treating Seizure Mom as an outpatient is dicey because he'd have to file a report with the state. He also thinks it's a danger to the baby, because Seizure Mom might have an episode while holding or feeding, or being otherwise solely responsible for the baby. "She's not a child abuser," Abby bristles, sniffing that if it were an epileptic patient, he wouldn't be so stringent and by-the-book, but he insists that he would be. Abby then gets him to agree that if the woman's seizures are under control by the time she'd be discharged and the state would need to investigate, he won't push the paperwork. Ken is more than happy to save himself the sheaf of loose-leaf.
Kem skips down the stairs in the Carter manse, because she's an actress wearing an empathy belly or a basketball or something, and not actually a pregnant woman, who wouldn't be so giddy and jaunty about skipping down the stairs even if an epidural were waiting for her there. She bumps into Carter and Stephen, who is frosty to her when they are introduced. Kem's more than a little startled, but Carter isn't, because he knows he was spawned from socially inept morons; indeed, he thinks it's funny, and there's nothing so charming as watching your boyfriend laugh at you because of a family joke you have no hope of getting. He's such a dear.
Carter brings Kem into the meeting and introduces her as an observer of the proceedings; all the old white dudes at the table try their best to look like crotchety and rich old codgers. Carter immediately breezes past introductions, claiming they'd take all day and delay them getting to the point, which is that he wants to let Northwestern take over the house for use as an institute for advanced health studies. Stephen looks pissed. The starched collars at the table think this idea sucks, because the foundation was created as a patron of the arts, and they think Carter's shitting all over his family's legacy by trying to save lives with the money rather than using it to sponsor some asshole's revolutionary Finger-Painting with Foodstuffs exhibit. People with patrician cheekbones and Bentleys don't hob-nob with the contagious or otherwise potentially germy. "What gives you the right?" gasps a particularly horrified old crone. "My grandmother's will gives me the right," Carter says pleasantly. He then Alexis Colbys that they can all step aside if they don't agree, and he'll replace them with a board that will. Kem touches him proudly, because she knows the power of Dynasty.
Outside the manse, Stephen spits angrily to Carter that he's irritated that Carter disappeared after Gamma's death, only to come back "like an avenging angel." He refers to Kem rather arsily as a "pregnant African girl." He's technically right, but he's also technically a jackhole. Kem appears, semi-oblivious, and smiles that she fixed some lunch. Stephen is more interested in making a pouty exit. Carter insists that Gamma trusted him, but Stephen curtly more or less tells Carter that Gamma would hate what he's doing -- and that comes with a very pointed look at Kem. He then lies that it was a pleasure to meet Kem. "I look forward to getting the wedding announcement," Stephen hisses as a parting shot. Kem snorts with mirth. "Glad I came?" she asks lightly.
Flasher complains that the soda machine stole his money. Well, he shouldn't have tried to buy a can of Diet Karma, then. Abby doesn't care. Just then, Seizure Mom's neighbor shows up with the baby in tow for a visit, so Abby lets her through; Flasher yammers on and on about things just long enough for Abby to notice that Seizure Mom has abruptly begun convulsing again. Nick freaks as Abby rushes into her room; Big Ears sends everyone outside. "It's okay," Abby coos into Seizure Mom's ear. "It's okay." Sure enough, she stops. Abby and Big Ears put together that the seizures only seem to happen when someone brings in the baby. It happens with a little more revelatory fanfare, but I am feeling way too succinct for any of that. Credit Abby with the pickup, and let's move on. "We need to get her talking about her past," Big Ears nods importantly. "Why won't it stop?" murmurs Seizure Mom. "I want it to stop." We fade to black kind of wishing that Diet Karma were a real drink that we could throw in the face of our nemeses.
Okay, some dumb kid is running back and forth past me and he just spit on my shoe. Foreign bodily fluid. From a kid. On my shoe. Now I'm going to have to set fire to the damn thing. And to my ovaries, apparently.
Neela is back down in the ER working with a fry cook who burned his hands on the griddle. He's anxious to get out of there so he can finish his shift, and presumably scrape the charred bits of his flesh off the grill before they get served up in anyone's Big Macs. Pratt shows up and recognizes the guy, asking him gently and in a brotherly way whether he was using cocaine or ephedrine or something. "I don't do that stuff," the guy insists. Pratt nods his understanding, and then pulls Neela aside and asks her to run a tox screen anyway, because he thinks that guy's as full of drugs as he is shit. Neela tells him it'll be a while because she has to go up to the lab. Pratt's irritated with her, because they have a patient. "Are you an ER doc, or not?" he yells at her disappearing figure. Luka appears now, and rather weirdly inserts himself into this conversation as he breezes through the lobby. "Last time I checked, you're not the first one to ask," Luka tosses off , whirling around as he walks so that he can prettily shout this at Pratt. What? Luka? Where did you come from? Why did you jump on that bandwagon? This episode is so choppy.
Of course, Sam and Luka then bump into each other again. This time, she insists she's been meaning to call him. "Me too," Luka fibs. "Try you tomorrow?" she attempts. "Yeah," he says. You could douse me in freezing water and then turn a fan on my face and I'd have more heat than they mustered in this scene.
, we make a really abrupt cut up to the lab. Neela is up there checking her slides, and stumbles upon Poindexter and Yuri. "Go home," Poindexter whispers. "I'm working the ER," Neela begins to explain. "Then get back down there fast," he orders her. He then starts urging Yuri to verbalize, which piques Neela's curiosity. Yuri appears to be completely high on something, which clues in Neela to the fact that this is probably unauthorized research. "Is he okay?" Neela asks. "He's more than okay," Poindexter grins. Apparently, they're working on a little side project that involves human testing. "Ketamine has lots of potential applications," insists Poindexter. "For getting high," spits Neela. Poindexter insists that this just accesses lobes of the brain never before utilized, and that they're exploring the brain for real truth -- the real Yuri. For his stoned part, Yuri babbles about them being astronauts of the mind. If he's not careful, he'll do one test too many, and then his brain -- like the moon -- will be made of green cheese. Neela gets worried, and tests all of Yuri's vitals while his eyes glaze over dreamily and he babbles about the final frontier and accessing new places in the mind, and all the usual things that dumb-asses say to justify doing really dumb, really dangerous things.
Big Ears watches from behind the mirror as Abby talks to Seizure Mom. She admits that she's scared. "I need to hold my baby," she sniffles. Abby is empathetic, but says that they just really need to keep pushing. "I don't know what you want from me," Seizure Mom frets. Abby begins a spiel about how we all have things that we try to keep hidden and deeply buried, but Seizure Mom can smell rhetoric when she hears it and demands to know a little something about Abby. Tit for tat, if you will. Monologue for monologue. Emmy clip for Emmy clip. "It's not about me," Abby says. I'm sorry...did she...is that...did we just witness a historic utterance? That pretty much negates the entirety of Season 9. Seizure Mom is resolute. Abby twitches. Big Ears furrows his brow so much that his ears are suddenly in Michigan. "Okay," Abby says. Then she pauses. "I can't follow through," she confesses. "On what?" Seizure Mom asks, curiously. "On anything," Abby says. "When something gets in my way, it's like a chemical reaction -- I just shut down, and give up." She shrugs. This is fairly astute of her. When did Abby become self-aware? "I'm just looking for an excuse to stop, because in the end, it's easier to do that than risk being hurt or disappointed," she says. Ah, yes, the demise of Carter/Abby. Fond memories of the dissolution of that unholy union. "With men?" Seizure Mom asks. "Men, my career, my family -- pick your poison," Abby says with a joyless smile. She looks moved by this admission for a second, and then slides the "Aw, shucks" veneer back in place and insists that's her whole story, trying to wash off the honesty and pretend it doesn't make her squirm underneath her skin. Good scene for her.
Apparently -- albeit after Abby almost gives up altogether -- this window into the mind of the miserable is enough to make Seizure Mom open up and spill some secrets. You know, I give Abby credit for being honest. Seizure Mom doesn't know her -- she could've just started spouting a bunch of lies, like, "I gave up my religion and it kills me," or, "My problem is that I'm addicted to life, and I love too much." Seizure Mom confesses that she had a baby eight years ago, named Charlie. Abby curiously returns to the chair she'd vacated in total capitulation, and listens in disbelief. "Before I met Nick," Seizure Mom explains. "When Charlie was two months old, he stopped breathing." No one could revive him, she says, and the paramedics told her it was probably SIDS. Abby asks why she didn't mention this before, and Seizure Mom cluelessly shrugs that she really didn't think something that happened eight years ago could possibly be relevant. Only in Psych would Abby find people who are even less on-the-ball than she usually is.
"I love you, Neela," Yuri drawls. "Yes, I know," she says evenly, examining him. "You ROCK," he slurs. "Yes I do," she replies. Hee. But sadly, yet predictably, Yuri's heart starts to freak out from the drugs, and his blood pressure spikes. Neela makes him lie down and mutters that he's an idiot, taking his pulse and determining that they need to go the ER immediately.
Pratt greets her down there, pissed that she wasn't back sooner; she demands access to a monitored bed. Pratt wants to know why, and Neela explains Yuri's problem. Poindexter begs them to keep it quiet. "Who is he?" Pratt asks. Then he turns to Poindexter. "Who are you?" he asks, fully irritated. Poindexter sputters that they were working on a special project in the lab. "You boys in the Mouse House are using human subjects now?" Pratt crabs. Yuri begins to moan, and his heart gets all out of whack; he's scared, and Neela and Pratt finally seize upon a drug that stabilizes his rhythms so that they don't need to use paddles. "Feel better?" Neela asks. "Yeah, I think," Yuri gasps. Haleh is shooting them glares all over the place. The fire in her eyes would torch a village. Pratt wants to start a chart for Yuri, but Poindexter freaks that they need to escape without a record of this. "She didn't say anything about registering," Yuri panics. Pratt accuses them of doing something illegal. "No, it was legitimate science. Word!" Poindexter attempts. "Did you just say 'word' to me?" Pratt seethes. Yuri admits that it was unauthorized research, which has Pratt all on his soapbox about how they save lives in the ER while total nerds play Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde up in the lab. Pratt's awfully preachy for someone who just snapped a guy's neck. Yuri freaks that he'll get kicked out of the lab, so Pratt tells him to wait twenty minutes to make sure he's stabilized, and then he'll let them run free upstairs, where they can "wire electrodes to your nuts, for all [he] care[s]." Don't give them any ideas, Pratt.
scene: Pratt tells the fry cook that his tox screen came back negative. "I told you it would," he smiles. Pratt gives him Tylenol for the pain. As Neela enters to help out, Fry Cook starts weaving a woeful tale indeed of how he's the oldest child, and he works the graveyard shift so that his mother can be home with all the other children, who are from two different fathers that are both deadbeats. Call Steve -- they can start a club. And then remind yourself to store all this in the memory banks, because he -- and undoubtedly, his heart-rending tale -- will show up week. Neela frets that his blood pressure is a little bit high. "Fear of doctors," Pratt smiles, reassuringly. "Get it myself sometimes."
Outside, Neela begins to diagnose hypertension in Fry Cook, but Pratt spits that she shouldn't care -- she's got her mice now. Worst triangle ever. "Is something wrong?" Neela asks. Pratt rants that Gallant's off in a war zone, and she's Marie Curie all of a sudden, and it's irritating because Gallant busted his ass to cover for her in the ER and she's wasting the second chance. He wants to know if she's committed. "My friend took a hit [for you] and you're here, running around doing everything but practice ER medicine," Pratt snaps. "If that's the way it's going to be, fine, but hurry up and decide. You're taking up space." We fade to black wondering if Gallant would be surprised to hear Pratt so vehemently championing their friendship.
Seizure Mom cradles a photo of her baby. Abby enters with some tea and sits in a giant chair that looks primed to swallow her whole, and decides she wants to continue talking about The Other Baby. "I told you what happened," Seizure Mom says stiffly. "You didn't tell me how it felt, how you reacted," Abby says. "I would want to talk about it." Seizure Mom glares, "I don't need someone to tell me how to cry." Valerie Bertinelli walks into the scene, deep in conversation with Harry Hamlin and holding a framed photo of her dead sister, Judith Light. Abby oversimplifies that the mind often plays tricks on people, and makes them think they're over something, when actually they're not; Seizure Mom dubiously snorts that she can't believe an eight-year-old incident is at the root of this. Wow. Two glares of derision at the very thought of that means it's twice as relevant. "There is a medication I can give you that can help us learn more about what you're feeling," Abby starts gingerly. Seizure Mom seems pissed as Abby adds that it's an IV that makes her sleepy, but opens her up -- kind of like truth serum and hypnosis mixed together, I would guess. They'll ask her some questions and try to pry the truth out of her. Seizure Mom agrees to do it.
In the lab, Neela notices that Yuri's getting reamed by his supervisor. "How long has he been in there?" she frets. "Half an hour," Poindexter says, lamenting that Yuri's in trouble when he's so close to getting his Ph.D. They hope Yuri only gets reprimanded. A co-worker snorts that perhaps they should stop treating the lab like playground; Poindexter thinks the dude's an idiot and doesn't get that they're unlocking the mind with cutting-edge stuff. Poindexter desperately needs to get laid. Neela promises that she and her ER buddies never busted them to anyone, and insists she really likes it up there and prefers working in the lab. Okay. That was kind of heartfelt. I have no idea what's going on with her. A week or two ago she balked at the very idea.
Abby argues with Big Ears about pushing the truth serum thingy on Seizure Mom. She wants to do it, because otherwise, it'll take too long to get to the root of the seizures, and the family might lose their baby to the Big Bad Social Workers. Big Ears cautions that this won't be the cure to Seizure Mom's problems, and he thinks it's just too easy. "It's like getting a girl into bed while she's plastered," he analogizes. Abby hates that comparison, but it's a little bit apt -- you still end up with problems when it's all said and done; they're just new sets of problems, and you might end up out a pair of pants. Abby swears that there's more going on with Seizure Mom than they can fathom in the short amount of time they have, which is why she's hot on the drug. He doesn't want to sign off on it because he thinks it's the easy way out, and destroys their therapeutic bond. He won't approve it, and suggests that she try another route. Abby admits that she already has; she got another doctor to agree. Oookay. I'm sure Big Ears really appreciates her going over his head, especially since that's not so easy when you consider how much head he has to hurdle. "[The other doctor] was in the army, where he saw it used successfully," Abby says. She contends that it's a better option than letting Social Services take her child away because Seizure Mom's deemed unfit or a threat.
Cut to the procedure; Seizure Mom takes to the drug just fine. Big Ears heads behind the mirror to hang out with Nick and Ken, and cautions them that Seizure Mom might say something upsetting or surprising in her drug haze. I'm so terrified of that, by the way. The day I have to get anesthesia is the day I blurt out something hideously inappropriate, I just know it. My surgeon's going to be all, "Heathen, congratulations -- you're going to be fine, none of us saw that you were wearing your laundry-day underwear, and we told your boyfriend to stop wearing that shirt." Abby eases Seizure Mom into the process by asking how she met Nick. Then she steers her into talking about her children. "Charlie's gone," murmurs Seizure Mom. She begins to cry. "The paremedics, they kept saying it wasn't my fault, it wasn't my fault," she moans. Abby asks her to talk about the moment she realized something was wrong with Charlie. "I was holding him," Seizure Mom begins. "Jake worked all night at the bar. We had a fight that morning. He said I couldn't do anything right, and I was a lousy lay. I couldn't cook. I couldn't keep the baby quiet." Abby listens, and then gingerly asks if Jake ever hurt her. "He hit me a lot," Seizure Mom whimpers. She confesses that the baby started crying while Jake was trying to fall asleep, and Jake started yelling and throwing things and threatening to kill them both. "I held Charlie tight, wrapped him in a blanket, and held him tight for a long time," she recalls through tears. "I thought he was asleep." Abby coldly realizes what's happened here, and turns toward where she knows Ken is listening intently. "You were afraid," Abby insists. "I held him too tight," weeps Seizure Mom. Abby gently asks if she's afraid she'll do that again, this time to her daughter, and Seizure Mom does nothing but sniffle.
Weaver sits alone in her apartment. A call goes through to their answering machine, which has Sandy's voice still on it. That's a nice touch; I don't think I'd be able to change that right away, either, were it me. As she looks completely inconsolable, Kerry listens to Elizabeth's voice asking if she's okay, and worrying about her, and trying to sympathize and offer to help. Weaver looks genuinely lost and broken. It's sort of sweet that Elizabeth is reaching out to her -- much more endearing than the screechy junk she's gotten in seasons past. As usual, Laura Innes is a master.
Ken tells Abby that he can't ignore what came out during the session, which is that Seizure Mom was responsible for the death of a child. Abby tries to fight him. "She was a battered woman, Ken," she says desperately. "It's not going to happen again. She's a good mother." Ken wants to monitor the family, and exits, leaving Abby depressed at the turn of events.
Big Ears approaches and tells Abby that she was practicing good medicine. She shrugs on her coat and gets all self-pitying about how she should've just left them all alone, because they'd have been better off. Wow, Abby the Martyr is back, and I didn't miss her a damn bit. Big Ears reassures her that getting to the truth is always good, and awkwardly invites her to dinner, trying to pretend it's just to quiz her on stuff for the boards. "Too late," Abby says tiredly.
Cut to her registering to retake the boards; we leave the episode with her at a test station.