All language subtitles for ER - 8x20 - The Letter.en

E. R.

- Elmira.
- Mexico?

Upstate New York. Chloe stayed
in a motel there for two weeks.

- The cops told you?
- It showed up on Joe's credit-card bill.

- Who's Joe?
- Her husband. Or ex-husband.

- He's driving up there.
- Can you hold that?

E. R. 8x20 "THE LETTER"

- Is it numb, Mr. Cannillo?
- My whole face is numb.

Maybe I should too. God knows what
she's doing. Suzy needs to be in school.

Got it. Okay, watch that
back cast next time, Mr. Cannillo.

Chloe could lose her in a heartbeat,
and we might not be so lucky again.

- I need the Wooly Bugger back.
- On the tray.

You could have her declared
an unfit mother.

- Then Joe gets Suzy.
- If he wants her.

- I don't know.
- Hey, lady!

Where in the hell's my leg?

- I believe it was amputated.
- Not the real one, moron. My prosthetic.

You had one when you came in, Toby?

Yes. She took it. Give it back.

- Why would I want your leg?
- You tell me, pervert.

Can you describe the leg?

Looks just like this one, only it's plastic.

We'll see if we can get you one.
Haleh, fly fisher needs a tetanus shot.

Check central supply,
see if we have extra orthopedic legs.

Somebody stole Toby's leg again.

- Thanks for defending me.
- The guy needs a free leg.

You got both of yours.

- Is the server down again?
- Half-hour. We're loading new software.

Did we get the LP results
back on Jessup?

- You know where the fax machine is?
- Frank, did a match letter come?

Do I look like the postmaster?

Match letters are at the dean's office.

I know that, genius. I forgot
to pick it up. They said they sent it here.

- You forgot to pick it up?
- I had a date.

- Hey, when did this come in?
- What?

This letter. Dr. Greene.

Stick it in his box.
I'll mail it to his home.

- No, it's from Dr. Greene.
- To who?

- Everyone, I guess.
- What's it say?

- It says, "Dear ER gang... "
- We're a gang now?

- Got a secret handshake and everything.
- While you were in Phoenix.

- Go on, Carter.
- "Dear ER gang:

So here I am out on the beach
at 5:30 in the evening.

Elizabeth is sitting with me drinking juice,
but I'm all about the mai tais. "

- What's he reading?
- Dr. Greene's letter.

"The sun is going down. Rachel
is dipping Ella's toes in the ocean...

...as they head off on a quest
for the perfect seashell. "

- "Wish you were here" would've done it.
- He doesn't have to rub it in.

"would make this moment complete?

Some jogger dropping to the sand...

...short of breath, so I can swoop in
with a piece of bamboo...

- ... to perform a nice, clean intubation...
- What's this?

- Mark.
- ... fix the guy up and send him off...

...with a good simple dispo. "

The day I start fantasizing about
critical procedures is the day I leave too.

"Which is my way of saying
that I miss you all...

...and that dingy place."

- Want another five of-?
- Dr. Greene.

"Lots of times, I thought I should have
chosen a different career...

...or gone into private practice.

Something easier, less grinding,
more lucrative.

But since I've been gone,

I realize outside of what
I'm doing right now...

...sitting on this beach with my family...

...staying at County all those years
doing what we do on a daily basis...

...was the best choice I ever made.

I know what you're thinking. Trust me,

it's not hard to appreciate once it's over."

I think that's the mai tais talking.

Shut up. Keep reading.

"As much as part of me
would like to believe the ER...

...can't go on without me...

...the smarter part realizes that...

...you're an incredible group
of doctors and nurses...

...who approach every day with such skill,
compassion and thoroughness.

And when it comes to patient care,
I know my absence will hardly be felt."

I'm not so sure of that.

"As for friendship and camaraderie,
well, that's another matter.

In order to leave,
I had to go the way I did.

But I wouldn't want any of you to think
that meant I didn't value each of you...

...and the years
that we worked together...

...or that I didn't have things
of a more personal nature to say.

Most of you, I think, have an idea
of what those things might be...

...without me writing them down.
But still... "

Go on.

There's just a couple dots and then:

"Ella is laughing and waving for me.
Rachel's found her shell. "

Nothing else?

Probably jammed. Damn machine's
been on the fritz all week.

- Is there a transmission report?
- So he faxes the letter...

...so he doesn't have to send
the macadamia nuts.

What? What is it?

This is from Dr. Corday.

"Mark died this morning...

...at 6:04 a. m.

The sun was rising...

...his favorite time of day.

I sent this on so that you might know
he was thinking of you all...

...and that...

...he appre-

He appreciated knowing
you would remember him well."

Post it on the floor, Frank.

That last part?

The whole thing.

It ain't my heart.

Cold, that's all.

And I need some of that breathing stuff.

BP's 100/76.

Sally bolus?

- Sally?
- Bolus normal saline, start an insulin drip.

- Work him up first.
- Where's my cart?

- CBC, lytes, BUN, creatinine.
- Wait, he's a brittle diabetic in DKA.

- We need to lower his sugar.
- You don't know his sugar.

Get Dr. Greene. He knows what to do.

Mr. Ervin, he's not here today.

Then I'll come back later.

No. You might have fluid in your lungs.

- And you have a high fever.
- Fever?

I'm colder than that hawk out there
on a windy day.

...Chest X-Ray, cardiac enzimes.

- DKA, I'm telling you.
- Send up LFTs.

- You want his bank statements also?
- Last time someone stole my dictionary.

Bet 20 he's over 400.

Dr. Carter?

- What?
- Twenty bucks says glucose is over 400.

Just plug him in.

Dr. Weaver?

Dr. Weaver?

When did this get-?

You were at lunch.

And you felt the need to post it
on the bulletin board?

Well, he wrote it to the ER.

- Do you want us to take it down?
- No.

- Double MVA coming. Father, daughter.
- Carter and Lewis.

- And George cut himself again.
- In a minute.

Auto versus cement truck. 10-year-old,
unrestrained back-seat passenger...

- ...flew to the front, hit deployed air bag.
- I'm Dr. Lewis. What's your name?

- Melissa.
- Melissa, were you knocked out?

- No.
- Does it hurt?

- My chest.
- Dan Rue,

36-year-old restrained driver.

Throat to steering wheel, knee
to dashboard, with hip and pelvis pain.

- LOC?
- No. GCS, 13.

- Can you tell me where it hurts most?
- Right leg and my throat.

All right. Page Surgery.
Tell RT to get the heliox.

Has his voice changed much?

- Maybe a little.
- Is my daughter here?

- Tachy at 108.
- Full trauma panel.

Follow the light with your eyes.

- BP?
- Cycling.

- Melissa, did you hurt your neck at all?
- No.

- Are you sure?
- Yes.

It's okay, sweetie. It's okay.
We're gonna take care of you.

- Where's my dad?
- Another doctor's helping him.

Okay, I'm gonna take this off.
I need you to be really still.

- Okay.
- Like a statue.

- Yes.
- Okay, here we go.

Oh, good girl.
Lateral C-spine, chest and pelvis.

Pressure's 100/70.

- Is the fiberoptic in here?
- Back counter.

- What's his pressure?
- Ninety-five.

- Dad!
- Head still.

- Is that my dad?
- Tender at the left axilla.

- Might be a rib fracture.
- HemoCue times three and a Foley.

- Pupils five millimeters and reactive.
- Abby.

- Sorry.
- Hang two units O-neg. I need a crit.

- Sats are falling, 92.
- Got the scope.

Okay, we gotta crike him.

Get me some cervical traction
and oral airway.

- Sinus tach on the monitor. No ectopy.
- Oh, God.

- What?
- Large hematoma in front of the trachea.

- You got to be kidding me.
- Can you cut through that?

No. I won't be able to see
anything through all that blood.

Pulse ox is not corresponding.

- I can't feel the landmarks.
- We need an airway.

- Damn it.
- What do you want to do?

Give me the scope.

- First HemoCue, 13.4.
- What are we talking about?

- Give me some cricoid pressure.
- On what?

- Dial up the source all the way.
- Anybody home?

Swollen airway. Expanding hematoma
blocking trach access.

- How long's he been down?
- Two minutes.

- Crike him.
- Too many vessels.

-11 blade now.
- No. Just wait, I can't see as it is.

- Trousseau dilater.
- Pulse ox, 84.

- Bradying down.
- Wait, I'm almost underneath it.

- Cutting.
- No, wait. Wait! I said, wait.

His heart rate's 60.
Most chief residents know he'll arrest.

We don't have an airway.
So mg of atropine.

- Dropping to 50.
- Trauma shears.

What are you doing?

- Just clamp.
- BP's 80 systolic.

No. You're gonna hit the internal carotid.

Tracheostomy.

- Field airway.
- Sats are climbing.

- Dr. Lewis?
- Next door.

Call RT for a vent. AC 12,
750 cc tidal on a 100%.

Less whining, more action
next time, Dr. Carter.

No deformity. No step-off.

- Dr. Lewis?
- How about here?

- A little.
- Five-by-seven mass over the scapula.

- Let's have Surgery take a look at this.
- Susan, it's your sister.

- What?
- She's on the phone.

No. Chloe, you disappear
with Suzy after almost killing yourself.

You don't call for three weeks.
Yeah, well, I hope so.

Are you in an outpatient program?

Where's Suzy gonna stay?

He took you back?

Oh, damn it.

No. No, not you, Chloe.

You know what? Fine. Fine, fine, fine.
Just give me the number, okay?

Yeah, Chloe, listen.

Yeah, I have to go.

Chloe, I have to go.

Yes, I love you too.

CT's ready.
Urine is dip negative for blood.

Forget the Foley. Page Pedes, Oncology.

Calcified mass in the lung field.

She has cancer?

Keep your ankle cocked.

You promised not to use the knife.

- A.J. called in sick. I tried to be careful.
- Don't touch it.

- That was too long.
- It's fine.

- It's too long. It will itch.
- Okay, I'm done.

- Who's picking you up?
- I took the train.

- I'll get you a cab voucher. Keep it dry.
- Plastic bag like before.

Come back in 10 days.

I did this last time. I saw on TV, those
cutters where you put...

...the bun in a covered white thing
and press down on the handle...

...and it slices without using the knife.

I asked Lance to get one of those.

But he said those guys are crooks
and it would break right away.

- What are you doing?
- This one's too long.

Stop it. Stop it. George.

I told you not to touch it.
Damn it, George.

- I'm sorry.
- I don't care if you're sorry.

I don't care if you're stupid.
If you don't listen, it'll never heal.

Kerry, I'll do it.

You should go home.

I'm sorry.
I'm sorry, George. I'm sorry.

- Casper's Foley bag is full.
- I know.

I don't know why I bought hoops.

- They were cute.
- Yeah.

The 3-year-old in 4 thought so too.

Did you think
it was gonna happen so soon?

He stopped treatment.

Yeah, I know. But still, I mean,
he was just here working.

I keep expecting to see him walk
around a corner or something.

He was 38 years old.

Too soon by any calculation.

Yeah.

Hey, when are you off?

Now. Just don't feel like going home.

What do you say we go out
and get plastered?

- I'd say that's an appropriate response.
- Susan, I have to go.

Bohan is an IUP,
12 weeks and spotting.

Ultrasound's otherwise negative.

Okay. Carter's on
for another couple hours.

I'm waiting on a parent
to transfer a girl to Oncology.

Okay.

I'm sorry about Mark.

Yeah.

Hey, Kerry.

Hey, Kerry, we're going out for drinks.
You want to come?

- Thanks. I'd like to, but I can't.
- Yeah, sure you can.

- The Lava Lounge on Damen.
- I have other plans.

- But thanks anyway.
- Okay.

- Good night.
- Bye.

- The Lava Lounge?
- Yeah, you kind of have to see it.

Dr. Romano needs you.

Tell him I'm icing my ear.

He's putting a chest tube
in your patient.

- What?
- He came down for a consult.

I canceled that consult.

28 French on a vascular clamp.
Hang in there, Melissa.

- What are you doing?
- Where's her CT?

- Oncology has it.
- Oncology?

Incidental finding.
Likely Rhabdomyosarcoma.

- Did she have a hemopneumo?
- No.

- She does now.
- What is it?

We're gonna put a tube
in your chest to help you breathe.

I'm in. Thoraseal.
Probably outgrew its blood supply...

...bled into her chest cavity. Come on.
My dog fetches faster.

- Is my mom here yet?
- Yeah, she's on her way.

Call the O.R. Tell them we
have a red blanket. Get consent.

Her father's in the SICU.
You criked him, remember?

- Melissa, you need an operation.
- What?

We're gonna take care of you.

200 cc's already. Second signature.
Let's go.

Don't worry.

- We'll blow it off, go some other night.
- No. You changed your shift.

Kerry, the guy died.
You should be with your staff tonight.

- They were being polite.
- They're your friends.

They're people I work with.

One of our guys goes down, the company
gets together and we get drunk.

It's more for the unit
than the guy who's gone.

I'm not a firefighter.

Basically the same job, isn't it?
You put out fires.

Mark and I always butted heads.

I was always trying to maneuver him...

...gain some kind of edge
like it had to be a competition.

He just wanted to do his job well
and go home.

I've known this was coming for a while,
and I never imagined...

...that I would feel like this.

You've lost a friend.

I think I have.

All I got out of him was, they put him on
dialysis for three days once...

He hated it.

Then he passed out.

- As in vagalled?
- As in old.

- Find his old chart?
- Still pulling it. I need a forklift.

His temp's down, but he's altered.
He called me "son" once.

Glucose is over 400.
You owe me 20 bucks.

Started that insulin drip.
And he could be uremic.

You know, your basic "MMP. "

- MMP?
- Multiple medical problems.

You just make this stuff up?

What? Multiple medical problems?
M- M-P, MMP.

All right, start with a urogram
and do a repeat Chem-20.

I did it twice already.

Just CT his belly and his pelvis...

- ... and call Nephrology.
- They won't take him. He's septic.

Well, then we'll dialyze down here
until we can admit to the unit.

Or we could turf him to Medicine
and let them figure it out.

Right now he belongs to us.

I'm gonna write this down now. Sure
you're not gonna change your mind again?

- Pratt, your letter.
- Where was it?

Filed N for "ne'er-do-well. "

- What's your first choice?
- I ain't saying.

See you at the Lava Lounge, Dr. Carter?

- What?
- Couple people going out for drinks.

- Don't feel like doing much else.
- Who?

Dr. Kovac, Dr. Lewis, Abby, Haleh.

Maybe. I don't know.
I got some dictations I need to finish.

Okay. If you change your mind...

Good night.

Bad news?

- Yeah, you could say that.
- Second choice?

Last choice.

Someone's got to get their last choice.
Where is it?

Here.

Good for us.

You know, I had better be getting
my damn locker.

Well, that was fast.

- What?
- You haven't even had a drink yet...

- ... you already got somebody's number?
- Oh, my God. What is that?

- Two Sacrificial Virgins.
- How much alcohol is in there?

Enough to make you forget
you're being thrown into a volcano.

I get it.

- I think.
- Do you need some help?

Yeah. Can I start a tab?

Sure, Susan.

Oh, my God. Those are our drinks?

- Too tacky?
- No, not for this place.

- I'm just bummed I forgot my grass skirt.
- Yeah.

I was gonna wear my coconut bra,
but it itches.

- How did you know about this place?
- Mark had a birthday here once.

It seemed appropriate.

- Thanks.
- Haleh.

Martini.

- Coke.
- Yeah. How did they find all this stuff?

It's kind of creepy. I keep expecting
Vincent Price to show up.

So should we toast or something?

Good idea.

Me?

You knew him the longest.

I'm not very good under pressure.
Someone else go first.

What the hell, I'll drink to that.

Looks like we're going public.

Hey, Kerry.

Hey.

Well-encapsulated discreet mass.
No extension to the visceral pleura.

Pickups.

Did you talk to Dr. Corday?

Yeah, Shirley, I'm at the top of her list.

Right after the funeral home.

What?

Penetrated the rib cage.
We are gonna be here all night.

At least you caught it.

Amazing how the human body...

...can turn on itself.

The very process we need to grow
in the womb to...

...regenerate ourselves
systematically eating us alive.

And no one's sacred.

Little girls. Fathers with little girls.

Cancer. Brain cancer, liver cancer,
breast cancer.

It's the same traitor,
the same merciless...

...unrelenting predator.

Like time itself.

- I hope you're not driving.
- No.

You're not on call, are you?

What are you,
some sort of Nazi bartender?

I prefer to think of myself
as magnanimous.

- Hey.
- Hey, Carter.

- We thought you were gonna blow us off.
- Did you pick this place?

- She's outside.
- Who?

John Carter makes an appearance.

Abigail Lockhart sits alone.

- It's a nice jacket. Is it new?
- What, do you have ESP?

No, your car's right there.

I saw you circle the building twice.

Thanks for yelling out directions.

Didn't wanna encourage you. I don't think
you should be hanging around in bars.

You got me there.

Great letter, though.

I especially enjoyed the surprise ending.

I didn't write it.

Well, that's the last time
we let you read out loud then.

Suddenly antisocial?

No, you just missed my table dance.

- Hula?
- Oh, yeah.

Well, I'll have to stick around
for the second show.

How many lives do you think?

What?

How many lives do you think he saved?

It's hard to say.

One a shift on average, I guess.
Five shifts a week for 10 years.

- Two or three thousand people.
- Damn.

Forget Superman, I'll take Mark Greene.

Well, if I knew you felt that way, I would
have shaved my head a long time ago.

Are you okay?

Come on.

- Come on what?
- Let's get out of here.

- And ditch our friends?
- I think that they'll get over it.

Okay.

- You know, I have a tiki mask in there.
- I'll buy you another one.

Where are we going?

I know a place on Franklin.

- The titty bar?
- No.

Well...

- Oh, the tattoo parlor.
- No.

No. Where are we going?

Bill's place.

No.

- No, thank you.
- Come on. There's a meeting at 1.

- Great. Go. I'll catch up.
- When's the last time you went?

- What do you think?
- What's it gonna hurt?

- It'll kill my buzz for starters.
- Come on, one step at a time.

I sponsored you. Remember? Save the
dogma. Besides, you screwed it up.

- I'm screwing it up?
- Yes. Would you say that I'm drunk?

- Yeah.
- You can't go to meetings drunk.

- They'll overlook it.
- And the program is voluntary.

- Then get in the car voluntarily.
- Come on, out of my way.

You are going,
even if I have to carry you.

- Thanks for caring, but not tonight.
- Yeah, tonight.

- No. Slow down, tough guy.
- Get in the car.

- No.
- Get in the car.

- No, no.
- Hey.

- Hey, no. John! Stop.
- You're going.

Stop it. Help! Help!

- Son of a bitch! You bit me?
- You dropped me.

- I can't believe you bit me.
- I told you to put me down.

- I think that might be bleeding.
- Good.

- Everything okay out here?
- Yeah.

I'm sorry. I just-
I can't...

I can't go to a meeting tonight.
I won't do it.

Let's go get something to eat.

Come on. A cup of coffee.

Thank you.

We gotta stop at a pharmacy.
I'll get some gauze and bandage that.

A crate?

Four feet by two feet.

Greene gets a crate of live lobsters...

- ... for a pericardiocentesis?
- Every Memorial Day.

I gave a Heimlich to a kid at the zoo once,
didn't even get a thank-you.

I've been working up to a fruit basket.

Wait. Is this the surf and turf
we had on the roof?

Yeah.

That was good.

- We can't tell him.
- Tell him what?

That he's dead.

We have to keep it coming.

That's a survivor talking.

We're starting breakfast.
You want anything?

- Yeah. Two mimosas, please.
- Excuse me?

No, we're fine.

It started on my birthday.

What?

I didn't start drinking when Brian hit me.
I started drinking before that.

And I probably wouldn't have been stupid
enough to open the door if I hadn't been.

Self-pity excuse.

Well, it's one of my better ones.

What time is it?

Oh, God. It's almost 6:00.
Oh, my God. I have to work tonight.

- You sober?
- Unfortunately.

Good. Then I have got just enough time
to drop you off at a meeting.

No. I have to go to bed.

- Let's go.
- Nope.

But if you quit bugging me,
I promise I'll go later.

When?

Before my shift.

Good, you're here. I was gonna page you,
but Jerry said you were on at 7.

- You're on at 7?
- Yeah. I've done it before.

- What is it?
- It's your homeless guy.

- Six-beat run of ectopy.
- How long has that been going on?

Almost an hour. I needed to start lido...

...but I couldn't get a directive
in his chart, and he won't tell me.

She don't listen.

70 milligrams IV load
and then start a drip at two per minute.

- Wait. So he's full code?
- There he goes again.

I don't know. He was Greene's
private patient or something.

- Yeah, we lost his pressure.
- Mr. Ervin?

- No pulse.
- Okay, starting CPR.

- You sure?
- No.

- Slow PEA.
- Mg of epi. Prep an amp of atropine.

Well, guess that clears it up.
Intubation tray.

I'll do it. 7.5 ET and a 3 Mac blade.

- V-fib.
- Okay, charge paddles to 200.

No pressure, no pulse.

And clear.

All right, charge again to 300.

Back to sinus.

I've got a pulse.

Tough old bird.
Okay, 20 of etomidate, eight of Pav.

Wait, wait, wait.
Carter, I think he's trying to talk.

Dr. Greene.

- No.
- What?

No tubes.

No shocks.

What did he say?

He said no more.

- Thanks for destroying my night.
- Did you get it?

She bled like stink. Control was nearly
impossible around the rib cage.

I was inside and outside
the chest simultaneously.

- Did you get it?
- Yeah, I got it.

Resected fully. Margins are clear.

- How's Daddy?
- Breathing over the vent.

Reflexes fully intact.
Should be extubated by this afternoon.

It was lucky they got plowed
by that cement truck.

These suckers rate 50% mortality
once they break out.

I'll tell Mom. You should get some sleep.
You look like crap.

Dr. Romano, are you sure you got it?

I got it.

The only thing he's been consistent
about is not wanting any treatment.

If he discussed this with Dr. Greene,

then there should be a note in the charts.

Well, maybe Dr. Greene
expected to be here.

Fine. He's your patient.

I have no idea what you're saying.
I'm sorry.

- Should someone save him?
- No.

I don't understand.

- What's the problem, Pratt?
- I don't speak Portuguese.

- That's Italian.
- That either.

Grandma was babysitting,
and he woke up with this rash.

She can't tell me if he's got any allergies,
and I can't find the parents.

Strawberry.

- What?
- Strawberry. Jelly, jam, maybe cereal.

Probably eating it
before he went to sleep.

Hey, you know anybody
at Northwestern?

- Yeah, I know a few.
- Could you do me a favor?

Tell them they made a mistake,
that they should take me.

- No. I'd have to believe that.
- Come on, you know I'm good.

- Too good to be wasted at County?
- I didn't say that.

Look, we're an under-serviced community,
and we need doctors.

For better or for worse, we drew you.

Blood sugar over 400. Good pick-up.

Yeah, thanks.

I shouldn't have sat down.
If I don't sit down, I won't cry.

- Well, you have to sit down eventually.
- Yeah.

Can't I just pretend he moved to the
South Pacific and lived happily ever after?

In a way, he did.

A girl and her father...

...are hit by a cement truck
on the way to ballet class.

A malignant tumor invades her chest,
and we find it by happenstance.

She'll walk out of here in a week
with not a care in the world.

Mark walked the halls of a hospital every
day and didn't know about his tumor...

...till he presented with symptoms.

Well, we save who we can, right?

It has to make more sense than that.

You're looking for a reason?

I miss him already.

- Me too.
- I went away for five years.

I thought of him on occasion.

Talked to him sporadically.

But I miss him.
I thought he'd always, always be here.

Well, it's good to miss him.

It's missing him that keeps him here.

Yeah.

You should write for Hallmark.

I have hidden talents.

- I'm sorry.
- No, no. It's okay.

I have to get back to work.

I have a pilonidal cyst
in 5 waiting to be lanced.

Give it to Pratt.
He needs the humility.

That will be cathartic.

- Where did you get that?
- What?

- Combination.
- Personnel.

Pratt matched at County.

Yes, I know.

He keeps bitching about it.

He needs a locker.

Thought I'd spare Elizabeth the chore.

Heard you had some trouble
with Romano yesterday.

He was right.

I took too long making a decision.

You don't have that luxury anymore.

I never really thought I did.

Mark's gone.

That means you've been here
longer than any other doctor.

People will look to you
to step in and fill the void.

Big void.

Yes, it is.

I can't do this. Will you do this?

Thank you.

Shotgun to the face.
This is gonna be fun, huh?

Cheaper than plastic surgery.

How's the bite?

I'm not howling at the moon.

There is no moon.

- How did it go?
- What?

The meeting.

It was boring.

You went?

Yeah. I just said it was boring, didn't I?

Sorry, they didn't give me a card.

You went for you or because you
promised me you would?

Is this guy gonna look like hamburger?

More like ground chuck.

I went for you.

- You're gonna need some more people.
- Why?

Come on, hard restraints!

- No IV?
-20 of morphine...

...before he pulled out.

- Sir, we need you to hold still.
- Come on, Gallant, keep him on the table.

-100 of fent, two of Ativan.
- Page Surgery, Plastics, Head and Neck.

- Could be PCP.
- Or the gunshot wound.

Sir, we're gonna help you.
But you gotta hold still...

- ... while we get the morphine into you.
- Okay, pressure 100/80.

- Pulse, 150.
- Get access. We need to sedate him.

- Get a 7.5 ET tube.
- You won't be able to use it.

- Break open lap pads and a crike tray.
- Gallant, hold down his arm.

- Seven sterile...
- Gallant.

- ... and an 11 blade. Drape his neck.
- All right, fent's in.

Get some O-2 in him. 100% by mask.

I'm pushing meds.

- Gallant. Gallant.
- Okay, okay, okay.

He's settling down. Betadine.

-20 of etomidate.
- Wait, are we tubing him or criking him?

- Criking. Look at his face.
- Just taking a peek.

- All right, bradying down.
- Yeah, he aspirated too much blood.

- Open the crash cart.
- Gallant, unroof his jaw...

...and hold it out of the way.
I need to see the epiglottis.

- Mg of atropine.
- Susan, hook your finger under his tongue.

- I can't do it.
- Don't move. Abduct the mandible.

- I need to sit down.
- Don't move.

- V-tach.
- All right, I'm in. Let go, Gallant.

- Charge is 200.
- Hyperventilating.

- Sats are 90.
- Clear.

- Sinus rhythm.
- Okay, full trauma panel.

C- spine, chest and pelvis. Gallant,
why don't you go get yourself some air?

Want a facial CT?

Yeah, good idea. Why don't we get a full
head series? Call RT. Let's get a vent.

Give him four of Ativan, seven of Pav.

Nice work, John.

Bet that was a new one.

Yeah. Yeah.

Look, I'm sorry.

I just thought
I was gonna be sick.

It's better if you keep your head down.

It'll be okay. It just caught me
by surprise, you know?

Relax. Take a minute.

You know, sometimes I don't think
I can do this.

You know, there's two kinds of doctors.

There's the kind that get rid
of their feelings...

...and the kind that hold on to them.

If you're gonna hold on to your feelings,
you're gonna get sick once in a while.

It's part of it.

You know, people come in here...

...and they're sick...

...and they're bleeding...

...sometimes they're dying...

...and they need our help.

And helping them is more important
than how we feel.

Hell, I've been doing this eight years.
I still get sick.

Take another minute.

- Did he go up?
- OMFS, ENT and Plastics all in.

Both carotids and IJ's intact.

He must have turned right
when the blast hit him.

- Good.
- How's he doing?

Oh, he'll be all right. How are you?

Ask me tomorrow.

- Good night.
- Good night.

He might need some fluids soon.

No. Morphine boluses of 10.

I heard you were gone.

No, I'm still here.

Good.

You know I don't like
nobody else helping me.

I know.

You've always treated me like a man.

Just try and relax.

What is that?

That monitor's just a little sensitive,
that's all.

I'm scared.

There's no reason to be.

Everything's okay.

I could have been a better person.

I could have done more.

You did enough.

Stay with me.

It won't be much longer.

I'll stay right here.

- Let me see.
- I think I singed my eyebrow.

I need to see. You thought it was a good
idea to put kerosene in your barbecue?

- I thought it was lighter fluid.
- It doesn't look burnt.

I'll check for corneal burns
with an ultraviolet light.

I need everything documented.
Worker's comp.

- You're a chef?
- It was my summer office party.

Oh, I don't think that counts.

Any word on the air conditioning?

- Yeah. They think it'll be fixed by winter.
- I can't work like this.

- You want a Big Stick?
- No.

- Why did I buy these shoes?
- Because they were cute.

- Some help here.
- Yeah, what is it?

Car rammed into a picnic at Lincoln Park.
I got three rigs behind me.

- John?
- Yeah, I got it.

- Intubated, regular pulse, good sats.
- Get Neurosurgery.

- Warn CT they'll get busy.
-12-year-old boy, dislocated shoulder...

...multiple lacerations.
BP, 100/60. Pulse, 120.

Hey, I'm Dr. Carter. What's your name?

What's that?
Okay, we're gonna take care of you.

Set me up...

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