Mornings in a hospital are filled with possibilities.
You could encounter a disease you've never seen before.
Make a life-saving diagnosis. Or try out the best new nickname _ever_.
Good morning, Black Whale.
No.
No to "black" or no to "whale"?
Just no.
Hey, idiot.
I said "idiot" and you looked.
I looked because you did the "hey idiot" thing to me, like, six months ago.
Did you look then?
Yeah.
Heh.
You know what? I think you're out of ways to bother me.
No, you're wrong.
Think of a way to annoy me right now.
That's what I thought.
Come here, Aquaman. One more patient and then we're gettin' out of here.
So Elliot's marine biologist boyfriend comes back for the weekend
just as my girlfriend leaves town for the holidays.
But you know what? It doesn't bother me!
J.D., Sean's gonna let me swim with the dolphins this weekend.
Oh really, that's great, I hope they don't maul you.
Relax Elliot, dolphins love people.
H-how'd you get that giant scar on your leg again?
Oh, parachute pants. Yeah, it got caught in the zipper.
Right.
You're lying already! I love that!
Well, it wasn't even a dolphin that bit me.
What was it?
Black whale.
You rang?
Yes! I knew you'd end up liking it!
Mrs. Cantwell, just have to give you a quick pelvic exam,
so throw your feet up in these stirrups here and, uh, scoot your tushie down.
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Come on, Sean, let's go!
Shouldn't you at least buy her breakfast?
Elliot, don't be embarrassed. You're not the first person to give a patient
an orgasm during a pelvic exam. No one cares.
Please, I'm sure the two of you haven't stopped obsessing
about it since the second it happened.
Woman, we're professionals. Isn't that right, Dr. Dorian?
52? Mrs. Cantwell, you don't look a day over 25.
Dude!
Oh, I'm sorry. What--what's up? What's happening with the other thing?
That's great.
Elliot come on, I have never heard a woman make sounds like that!
Oh, I'm sure you haven't.
See, it's funny because you've never really satisfied a woman!
Well, you might want to double-check with YOUR MOM!
Around here we all make fun of each other.
Except for Carla. _No one_ makes fun of Carla.
Got a gross of bedpans here, and where should I pick up my medal?
For what?
For reading your chicken-scratch handwriting. Who is with me?
Listen, I run back and forth for 18 hours a day between patients
who _might_ die and patients who _will_ die, and if I find time
to write an order for bedpans, I write it fast. So you will forgive me
if I don't feel like being judged by some guy in his thirties
who still wears shorts to work!
Now, go ahead and say the only three words I want to hear coming out of your mouth.
S-sign here, please?
Thanks again for holding the door for me back there.
In my defense, I didn't know you were behind me because
I didn't hear anybody telling me what a horrible person I am.
Heeey! How are the new happy parents?
Oh, I'm living my dream. Have a great day today.
Hurry home tonight so you can ignore your son and not do your share.
You make me want to kill myself and everybody around me! Ohh...Come, Dixie.
So, uh, you and Jordan...huh? You wanna talk about it?
I do, but not here, because I'll probably just oh...cry...and it's too late!
Here I swore I wouldn't do this. Come on, Perry, get it together.
Get it together. Get it to--you stop it! You stop it! You stop it!
You stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Huuuuah!
Come on, you idiot.
Heyyy fellas, what's the good word?
Uh, Mr. Randolph, your PSA number's gone up quite a bit since your last blood test.
Now, this could be from the prostatitis, we won't know for sure
until your biopsy results come back later on this afternoon.
But I feel pretty certain that we're gonna find something.
Oh for God's sake Catherine, stop making a scene!
I'm sorry doctors, but she gets a little emotional.
Are you two WASPs?
Episcopalian. Why?
I can't believe you would veto the French Riviera
for our honeymoon because of the nude beaches.
Baby, the whole point of marriage is that I'm the only one
who gets to see your candies and whatnot.
I gotta go. Meet me in the On-Call room in an hour,
I have a very sexy surprise for you.
Oh? Hell yeah.
This guy's sick.
Thanks.
You're stupid!
See, now you're just embarrassing yourself. Pick someone else to annoy!
I don't pick 'em. They pick me!
You know, loose debris can get sucked up into the air conditioning vents.
And when that happens, I have to spend the entire day
crawling around inside the wall, and I don't like that. You know why?
'Cause there's not enough air. I spent a day inside that wall
thinking I was a mermaid. So here's the thing: you don't throw around loose trash,
and I won't have to waste an entire workday granting the wishes
of imaginary fisherman. 'Kay?
Dude, I'm not scared of you. Life's too good. I'm untouchable.
That's what I hoped you'd say.
Dr. Murphy, how about you start us off by describing
the medical condition of your patient Mr. Eronson here.
He's got hypertrophic cardiomyopathy with severe secondary pulmonary hypertension.
Wrong. He's dead. Another one bites the dust, huh, sport?
Next contestant, Dr. Reid.
Mr. Murdock was admitted with a COPD exacerbation;
he responded well to antibiotics and bronchial dilators but he did develop a rash
on his, um...private area.
Sorry, on his what?
His peepers.
Excuse me?
His schwing-schwong.
Dr. Reid, it's bad enough you run out on a patient in the middle of a pelvic exam.
But you are a doctor, and you need to be able to say simple clinical words
like "penis," or "vagina," or "anal."
"Anal" is not a dirty word, sir.
Tell that to my wife.
The, uh, the biopsy's back and I'm afraid it's positive for prostate cancer.
Rats! Excuse my language, dear. You know what, Catherine,
I can see this conversation being riddled with that kind of talk.
Perhaps you should wait out in the hallway.
Uh, you know sir, I know that it's cancer, but I'm not really worried.
Excuse me, am I confusing cancer with some other disease?
No you're not. I think what Captain Bedside here
is _trying_ to say is that it hasn't spread to the lymph nodes yet,
so it's still quite easily operable.
Yes, and there's an opening in surgery tonight, I managed to jam you in.
Look, I know this is happening awfully fast, you must have a lot of emotions
swirling around, but I want you to know if you have any questions at all, I'm here.
Do you know what channel that Queer Guy show is on?
It's okay, tell him.
Bravo, Tuesdays at 10, 9 central, 8 Mountain.
Oh, lookathat, message from Jordan.
How's it going?
Just great.
Hey, watch it!
Dr. Cox, we've known each other for over two years....
Let me in, okay? Help me help you. Help me help you, help me help you
Stop it.
Fine, Newbie! Let me--let me tell you a little story. It starts every day
at 5 in the morning -- which is just about the time that you're setting your hair for work --
when I am awakened by a sound: Is that a cat being gutted by a fishing knife?
Nooo! That's my son. He's hungry and he's got a load in his pants so big
that I'm actually considering hiring a stable boy. But, I go ahead and dig in;
because I do love the lad and, well gosh, you know me, I'm a giver.
And I'm off to the hospital, where my cup runneth over with both quality colleagues,
such as yourself, and a proverbial clown-car full of sick people.
But, what the hey, my pay is about the same as guys who break rocks with other rocks
and I only have to work three or four hundred hours a week, so, so far I'm a pretty happy camper!
And then I head back home where I'm greeted by the faint musk of baby vomit in a house
that used to smell like, well...nothing! Nothing! Nothing! I-i-in fact it used
to smell like nothing at all. And all I want to do before I restart this whole glorious cycle is,
you know, maybe lay on the couch and have a beer and watch some SportsCenter and,
I'm if I'm not too sweaty from the days labors, stick my hand right down my pants,
buuut apparently that's not in Jordan's definition of "pulling your weight".
So, uh, there you are, superstar. Fix that.
Well, that's easy! Just tell her about it. Tell her everything you feel.
Should I give her every reason to accept that I'm for real?
First of all, no one understands relationships like Billy Joel, okay?
"Uptown Girl" got me through high school -- long story for another day.
Secondly, you don't want to end up like the Randolphs back there,
just not saying a word to each other, do you?
You wish _we_ were more like the Randolphs, don't you?
God save me, I do. I reeeeally do!
Come here.
So, here's your surprise: You know we'll be getting married in six months...
And I just thought it would be so...hot...
Yeah?
...if we didn't have sex again until our wedding night.
Can you imagine how great that night will be?
So great! Um, how about this, though: How about...you stop having sex, but I keep having sex?
You mean like an affair?
No! I'll just have sex with you when you're sleeping.
Turk, how can you not think this idea is so romantic?
Maybe you got me confused with that little Amish boy you used to date.
Untouchable, eh?
Hey, Dr. Kelso, none of my patients have died today.
Really? Mr. Ferguson's corpse begs to differ.
Darn it!
Oh, and Dr. Reid, your patient, Mrs. Burke, has developed a urinary infection.
Apparently it hurts when she makes wizzie-winkles through her sea-biscuit.
You know, it's not my fault that dirty stuff makes me uncomfortable.
Oh, who's fault is it?
But more important than anything, more important than never letting yourself get fat,
is never let a man put his dirty howdoyoudo into your bajingo.
Jorge! I need to see you in the potting shed.
She was always yelling at Jorge in that potting shed. But she never fired him.
Even after he kidnapped her and took her to Acapulco....
J.D., how am I supposed to reverse 26 years of uptight repression?
This is a job for Miss Busybody Smartypants!
I know what you have to do, and I'm gonna help you through this.
Dude, I'm dying here.
Turk, it's been like eighteen hours since you had sex.
I'm saying, this is torture!
So why don't you just, like, "take care of yo'self"?
Man, you know I don't do that.
You don't?
Nah, I only did that like twice in my life.
Same here.
If by "in my life" you mean "since dinner".
I gotta go to sleep, I'm tired.
Ohhhhh, my little newbie-doobie-doo! Say, that whole "telling Jordan how I feel" thing
just went terrific, thank you for that. Now I need a place to crash. Where's Naomi's bedroom?
Good night, roomies.
We gotta get that lock fixed.
The only lock I gotta get fixed is the one connected to Carla's panties.
I need to get a key. I need to call a locksmith. I thought I was the locksmith, man.
Then she cut me off, man, just like that. Full prison lock-down, no one gets in or out.
Man, that's tough.
If you're not gonna use my bed, can I use it?
No you may not, on account of this whole Jordan situation being your fault.
You told her that spending the day with the baby isn't really a job
and that it's turned her into an inflexible shrew!
Newbie, you told me to tell her exactly how I feel, I did just that.
Now you'll remain on the floor until you come up with a new plan for me.
You know, Dr. Cox, I--I know this is tough on you what with you being psychotic
and all, but, I'm out, okay? It's 3 a.m. and there's nothing in the world
that's gonna keep me from going to sleep right now.
What do you mean you changed your mind about surgery?
Catherine downloaded some information on alternative treatments
diet, exercise, seed implants....
No, sir, those are, at best, a stall. Now I know there's trepidation
when you talk about surgery in the area of the penis--
Whoa! Quick pause on the guttertalk! Catherine, hallway.
Look, I
Go.
I know there are possible side-effects, but the incontinence goes away
with most patients, and sexual dysfunction can be treated with anything
from Viagra to a penis pump.
Penis pump? That sounds awkward.
Doesn't have to be.
Wow! It's a giraffe!
End of discussion! I'm not having the surgery. Although I don't mind that
they've shaved me already. Proportionately, everything seems much...grander.
All right, Elliot, you just have to ease into it, okay? Let's forget about patients
for now and start with this.
Ohh, my God! She's got a tattoo of a teardrop on her bajingo! Is it sad?
Her _vagina_, Elliot, she has a tattoo on her beautiful vagina.
Awwwh! This just isn't fair. Not fair at all. It's ridiculous!
This is stupid!
Elliot, I'm just trying to help.
Yeah, you know what Carla, I don't remember asking for your help, okay?
It does look a little sad. They always do.
Hey!
This is a hospital, why are you playing that song?
Ohh! You mean "We Don't Have To Take Our Clothes Off"
Jermaine Stewart's classic anthem to platonic love. No reason.
Whatever it is you're trying to do, it's not working.
'Course not, not with you. You're, uh...what'd you say?
Untouchable. Well, anyway, back to work.
New friend!
Mr. Greenberg needs 2.4 milliunits of penicillin IM.
Why, does he have a spinkle in his gherkin?
Carla, you're right, okay? That stuff makes me uncomfortable,
and there was a time when that would've sent me into a shame spiral,
but now I'm just gonna get over it at my own pace. And until then,
I honestly don't mind that you're making fun of me, but what does bother me
is that no one is ever allowed to make fun of you.
People can make fun of me.
Come on! What about that delivery guy yesterday? I mean, you practically tore him a new binglebore.
But he's not my friend. My friends can make fun of me whenever they want.
Really? Well, then, in that case you're a know-it-all smartypants
and if you're not telling someone what to do, you're probably not talking.
Okay, I guess I can be a little bossy.
A little? Girl, please! If you met Jesus hisself, you'd be trying
to tell him where to park his donkey.
Oh, are we allowed to do this now? What about that whole, like, hands on the hips,
"Carla from the block" thing she does when she's mad -- when she's like
"Oh, Bambi, you do _not_ want to mess me with right now."
You do sound like that.
Careful Doug, we are not that close yet.
"Careful, Doug."
"Doug, you better be careful, 'cause I'm Carla."
Mr. Randolph.
What's he doing here? You know I don't like these people.
Surgeons. Not African-Americans.
Oh!... We're actually saying "black" now, sir.
I was right, Catherine!
Listen sir, I brought Dr. Turk here to help you get over your fear of surgery.
I'm not scared.
Then what is it?
I don't know if you've noticed, but Catherine and I don't always communicate that well.
No, I can't--
You're joshing!
No, it's true. But when I lay that beautiful woman down onto our bed to make love
Wow.
Oh, God.
the walls come tumbling down. It's the one place that I can tell her how wonderful
and beautiful she is, and how I would be lost without her.
Now I know I will probably have to have this surgery eventually,
but until then I am not going to risk losing the one thing that keeps me close to her.
Not until I absolutely have to.
Yes dear, you can come in.
Maybe the dirty little secret about sex is that it isn't so dirty after all.
Do you think you could try to be a tiny bit mature?
Oh, this is me mature.
Uh, excuse me.
Whaaat?!
Okay, so there's that.... Uh, look, I realize I let you down before,
and I was thinking I could make it up to you by, you know, maybe baby-sitting sometime.
The weird thing is, even though it's natural, sex can make us uncomfortable.
You have a...penis. And I...have a vagina!
That is so hot.
But if we work at it, we can get beyond that discomfort.
And realize that sex can actually be a comfort.
Hey, baby. I was just with a patient who made me understand what romance really means.
So as far as this no-sex thing goes, I'm with you a hundred percent.
Everyone I know just spent the last two hours listing my faults. I wanna have sex. Now.
I'll get the condoms.
Sorry.
Sex can even be a cure.
Whoa, that was.... Well, why were you so angry at me?
Oh, I don't even remember.
How do I know all this? Because no one understands how important sex is better
than someone who isn't having any.
Helloooo, Cinemax.
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