Cry Me a Liver

Previously on Minorities in a Hospital on the CBS Network:: Dr. Lilian Price shook hands with Emerald Jordan, a Johnny Cochran-type lawyer to whom she gives the cold shoulder; a priest heard from Dr. Ben Turner that Turner doesn't believe in miracles (the priest said he'd pray for Turner, but then he's supposed to, now, isn't he?); Lilian and Ben Turner, who used to be engaged, finally got it on again in Dr. Turner's tastefully decorated pad. As you'll recall, last week Turner took off his shirt and half of the City of Angels viewing audience (about six people) swooned openly. This week, we'll see a hooker, an impotent man and the sneaky Ron Harris. It's not a set-up for a joke, it's this week's episode, "Cry Me a Liver."

My good friend Heather was able to make it over this week to watch, and immediately notices Bamboo Heather, the puppet I made last week out of bamboo and granite to take Heather's place.

Heather: Is that the puppet?
Omar: Yeah.
Heather: Are you gonna keep her there on the couch all damn night?
Omar: [long silence]

Mr. Sotheby takes the stand, where he is asked by his lawyer how the sex was in his ten-year marriage. "Everything was straight ahead," Mr. Sotheby says, making a little forward motion with his fist, "most every day I was able to satisfy my woman." This last bit is said with a little bit of macho relish. But that was then. "Now, it's a dead dog." The man begins to tear up, questioning his own manhood, comparing himself to Bob Dole. It's really sad, and even the wife is crying now. Harris, who knows a hard situation when he feels one, tells Turner, "Stick a fork in us because we're done." Personally, I'm a little disappointed with Harris's first metaphor of the week. Give him time. I'm sure he'll come through later in the episode.

Cut to the wailing opening credits. Angel imagery, Turner's Kufi hat, and the word "whoa" sung more times than you'd hear it yelled at a rodeo. In a commercial, there's these people who are as tall as buildings, but instead of the Rolling Stones, it's the cast of Touched by an Angel. Della Reese: I love you, but you just don't look good 150 feet tall. Not like that Angelia Jolie...grroowwwwllll.

The L.A. skyline and some jaunty piano music bring us back to the hospital (oh yeah, it's a hospital drama) where Dr. "I look just like one of the Beastie Boys" Weiss is attending to some facial cuts on a Jamaican man sporting big dreadlocks. He says he was at a concert minding his own business when a bunch of women rushed the stage and he got "pimp-slapped and ho'd over." Weiss smiles because it reminds him of the Tibetan Freedom Concert. Just then, a multiple trauma is rushed in, with a raggedy-looking wife following. "What you doing to him?" she cries. Let's see. It's a hospital. All the people around him have scrubs on. I'm thinking ...a tax audit? She is grabbed and hauled off by a policeman yelling for "Purvis," who the cop says is in custody. Dr. Wesley "Wussy" Williams takes on the case while Weiss finishes up to assist. Weiss comes over, does not change his latex gloves, and starts poking around all over this man's bloody body. Hey, I liked "Intergalactic" as much as the guy, but change your damn gloves already! Nurse Patterson and Weiss exchange a look, but because the writers abandoned their on-again, off-again romance a few weeks ago, we have no idea what it means. Weiss digs his hand into something squishy and comes out with a little bit of something gooey. "It's brain matter," he says. What was he doing pulling out brain matter? Doesn't the patient need some of that? How's he going to fill out all those insurance forms later? Williams orders a head CT, sending Patterson off. Weiss says it looks like brain death, but Williams wants to make sure that he didn't scoop out all that brain matter for nothing. Williams keeps the man resuscitated for the possibility of organ donation. Weiss and Williams look at each other as if to say "you thinking what I'm thinking?" "Yeah, Arby Melt!" but it turns out they have an organ recipient in mind.

Cut to Williams and Turner walking down the hallway with Weiss. They say that the patient -- the now-brain-dead Purvis -- is the same blood type as Malcolm Pearl. The liver chemistry is good, so they're really excited, despite Williams making lame little jokes about their patient having less blood to the brain than Weiss. Turner looks very pleased with his two pissboys (um, I mean, residents) as they walk into the ICU. Another doctor -- a young Ossie Davis -- tells Turner and his posse that they've found an excellent donor. Weiss and Williams exit. Ossie Davis says that he admires their exuberance. It's well-founded: A kid named Malcolm Pearl has been waiting three years for a liver transplant. Ossie Davis says he thought the transplant program shut down when Dr. Prince, Medicine Racist, left the hospital. Turner says organ donation is in full swing. Ossie Davis walks off and Dorothy Chang, the organ procurement coordinator, introduces herself. Let's just cut to the chase. She may call herself an "organ procurement coordinator," but a more colorful way to say it would be that she's a "gut grabber." Chang says she appreciates Turner's call, but it was in vain (not "in vein"). Turner asks if somebody else jumped ahead in the liver donor line. Chang says no: the problem is that Purvis's wife won't release the dead man's innards. "I personally don't think the woman would donate an empty beer can," Chang tells Turner. Even a can of Coors? Chang says the woman flat-out refuses to donate. Turner asks if he can have a word with her. I'm beginning to see his plan: Turner will take off his shirt, and while she's swooning, he'll get her to sign a contract reprinted on his sculpted chest. Very clever, Dr. Turner.

Cut to the waiting room where a video by the R&B group Blaque is playing on the TV. It's so catchy, I end up on CDNOW.com trying to track down the name of the song: "Bring it All to Me." Oh yeah. Turner approaches Purvis's wife as she scowls at him. "If you're asking for his parts like the Chinese lady, no way." The woman says her husband was protecting her at the time of his death and that she doesn't want anybody experimenting on him. We keep flashing back to the Blaque video, which, if you haven't heard the song, I can assure you is as addictive as anything the hospital pharmacy may carry. The woman says she doesn't believe any of the doctors. Given that Turner just dumped his girlfriend of two years for a woman he was still secretly jumping into broom closets with, she may have a point. Turner turns off the TV as I moan, "Noooo!" He sits to the skanky woman and says that a young boy's life is at stake. "I don't know no boy," she replies. Turner asks if a man who died saving her life wouldn't want to save the life of a boy. She smirks and asks, "Is that supposed to make me cry?" The woman, who has "street" written all over her in tiny shards of gravel, says she has something Turner wants -- what will he give her in return? Um, a naked torso? Turner says he can't, legally, give her anything. She goes on a rant, Turner gets upset, and eventually she wins because he starts pulling out his wallet and offers her $126.55 for the organs. She refuses. Turner takes the money back, and she changes her mind and signs. As she signs, she gets Turner to throw in his watch. Then she asks for a cigarette. This woman thinks she's on Let's Make a Liver Deal!

Turner, whistling happily, goes down the hall and enters an elevator. There, he finds Dr. Lilian Price, who looks different because her hair is pulled back and she's wearing a doctor's coat instead of her usual purple power suit. Turner does a little dance as rejoices in his good organ-harvesting news. Turner dances some more; Price giggles. "Are you harvesting tonight?" she asks. Heather and I both snicker at her quite original come-on. Price stops the elevator (isn't there some sort of serious paperwork violation involved in that?) and tells Turner that since she won't be seeing him later, she'll be taking her sugar now. Turner kisses her, failing to ask if she may be diabetic. The two kiss some more. She moves to restart the elevator, but Turner stops her: "Never mess with a win streak," he tells her. This is exactly the same line that used to get Wilt Chamberlain lucky so much.

Cut to the hospital bed of Malcolm Pearl, whose father is reading him some James Baldwin. Turner, who says he's impressed, is told it's for an English assignment. Malcolm, who looks a little sickly, but in good spirits, is told by Turner that a procedure he was scheduled for won't be happening. Instead, he's just won...A Brand...New...Liver! [applause] "Barring anything unforeseen," Turner adds. Heather says, "This is the worst foreshadowing ever." The boy, who's on his way to Stanford on a full ride, is pleased. Mom says they should take a moment to pray. The boy, who is amazingly centered, says, "[Let's] reflect just for a minute on the man whose misfortune gave me this liver." Oh, screw him, you're alive, boy! And going to Stanford! Mom gives Turner a hug for just a little too long ("I saw your pecs on TV last week," she whispers). The male nurse who's been watching tells Turner she's been waiting three years to give him that hug. "Best part of the job," Turner responds. That and all the nookie. The boy begins leading the family in prayer (Christ figure, much?) and as he begins, the Mother hisses, "Yessss!" but it's because she's still thinking about Turner's buff torso. We fade to black and white on the family's praying and Turner watching from the hallway.

Della Reese again invades my TV set, only this time she has on a purple outfit and her hair is of a color that matches. She looks just like Grimace from McDonald's.

Back at Angels of Mercy, Dr. Jackson and Nurse Patterson are rushing to fetch a guy who Patterson says is a prisoner being brought from the courthouse. Photographers shoot while they wheel in a mean-looking man on a stretcher. Jackson is accosted by a nerdy-looking guy who says he's the man's lawyer. "I'm that man's lawyer!" Lawyer McShyster says. McShyster gives Jackson his card, demands to be notified when his client is admitted, and runs out, presumably to retrieve his dentures from the ambulance's back bumper. Patterson pulls back the criminal's eyelids to reveal that they're jaundiced (either that or the color on my TV is off). Jackson taps the jailbird's belly and says, "This man is sicker than hell." Are doctors allowed to say that?