It's been a long road, but over the past two months,
Elliot and I have totally rebuilt our friendship.
Incoming.
Good morning.
Co-chiefy, got you a little somethin' somethin'.
Thank you.
And I actually got you a little something.
A magnifying glass?
Yes... for these.
You got the tiny Post-lts!
Oh, awesome!
For our tiny bulletin board.
And I have a dentist appointment that got moved to Tuesday at 4 pm.
"Don't floss before you come in. It makes your gums bloody."
Bottom line, Elliot and I are the greatest co-chief residents of all time.
You two are, without a doubt,
the worst co-chief residents of all time. In case you haven't noticed,
we've got ourselves one hospital chock-full of monkey interns,
and news flash, your job is to catch whatever they're flinging.
Coffee talk, ladies, is now officially... over!
Get your asses to work. Now.
- Cream? - Please.
Yup, not even Dr Cox could faze us,
because we had every facet of this job down.
We figured out a fair way to schedule all the interns' shifts.
Whoever gets Dr Reid's top back to her first doesn't have to work this weekend.
Commence the scuffle.
- Hope it doesn't rain today. - Me too.
We knew how to protect the interns from Dr Kelso.
Look, Brent, is it?
Son, please tell me you come with a money-back guarantee,
because I'd like to get something useful like a can of Brent remover.
- I mean, for God's... - Sake, Brent!
When are you gonna wake up and use that...
Rock that you've been calling your skull?
We got this, sir.
I mean, even a blind squirrel occasionally finds a nut...
He's gone. He's gone.
Look, Brent, you are doing fine.
Still, it's not like we didn't keep the interns on their toes.
So, Lonnie, get in here and see the effects of cirrhosis of the liver.
J.D., you knew I was gonna do that.
But it was still very startling.
Here's your shirt, Dr Reid.
Wow, Daisy. Enjoy your weekend, you little scrapper.
Now, Daisy, I'm supposed to ask you, can Lonnie have his lower lip back?
It's my trophy.
Hey, this guy's coding.
Don't get me wrong, I can handle a code, but every so often,
everything that can conceivably go wrong goes wrong at once.
- He's in VF. - We've lost an airway.
- He's blown a pupil. - OK, give me a second, all right?
I call these train wreck codes. Not my forte.
Luckily, that's when Elliot's at her best.
I've got your back. Laverne, bolus with amiodarone.
Grab me central line kit. I'll bag him. Run the fluids.
I honestly didn't understand how she could do so many things at once.
Fourteen across. Four letters.
Band that sang Rosanna.
Toto!
T-o-t-o. Toto.
OK. He's stable.
My problem is that I've never been much of a multi-tasker.
For instance, I can't eat and watch TV
or drive my scooter and answer my phone.
Hello? Whoa!
Throttle's stuck!
Look out! Look out! Look out! Look out!
Look out! Look out...
Scared Lonnie again.
Whoa! Throttle! Throttle!
- Throttle's stuck! Tater tots. Whoa! - Over here. You can get back outside.
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Whoever this is, you're not gonna believe what just happened.
I believe it. It was cool.
Janitor.
Ambrosia.
Thank you, Janitor.
- Classic Janitor. - If it ain't broke, don't fix it.
That guy that crashed this morning is doing great.
Oh, Barbie.
Maybe you can take a break from congratulating yourself
and figure out what's wrong with Ms Kasuba, seeing as you're her doctor
and she's been in the ICU for three days.
We're running lots of tests.
Tests? Goodie! What exactly will you be looking for?
If it's the slowest doctor in the hospital, then,
ding ding ding ding, I already found her. Figure it out.
This is why it doesn't bother me
Elliot is so much better with the train wreck codes.
Her biggest weakness is my biggest strength... Diagnosis.
Elliot, if you need help, just ask Dr Diagnosis.
You could be my sidekick, Bangs McCoy.
Lately it seemed like Turk was being a little casual about his diabetes.
OK, you all know the rules.
I test my blood sugar, you bet high or low, and 25% goes to diabetes.
Because if we all work hard, together, I can get a big ass flat screen.
That's right, baby.
I want high.
Low and slow, that's his tempo.
This game is sick.
High.
One ninety-four.
Yes!
- Give me some. - It's that high, baby?
You've been sneaking brownies, haven't you?
Don't think that when you go blind I'm gonna go get you no seeing-eye dog.
- Gonna name him Gizmo. - That's what we're naming our robot.
When we get the robot, we'll name him Tupac.
"Tupac, may I have some waffles?" "Would you like some syrup?"
That'll be fine. It'll work.
Maybe Ms Kasuba has a perinephric abscess.
Her pain is central, not near the back. Come on, Bangs.
Know what helps me when I'm diagnosing?
Mentally picturing everything... Like those sugar packets there.
How do you think they got there?
Somebody probably knocked them over.
I don't think so.
You see, the packets are neatly stacked.
Plus, that coffee cup has a lipstick of a certain very hot Nurse Tisdale.
If you're looking for sugar, there's some on the floor.
Thong!
It's the classic Todd thong sugar trap.
Wow.
Let's apply the same thing to Mrs Kasuba.
We know this isn't the first time she's experienced abdominal pain.
- What else do we know about her? - You know what, J. D? I've got to run.
- Are you OK here? - Yeah. I got this.
Say, that was some real Nancy Drew stuff there... Nancy.
I mean, absolutely irrelevant as far as medicine goes, but damn amusing.
Don't feel weird because you're threatened by my gift. Many are.
Did you feel that you weren't quite annoying enough
without adding a delusional sense of grandeur?
Because I promise you, you are annoying enough.
In fact, you're the number one contender for the middleweight annoyance crown.
Well, you're the number one jealous...
...weight for the jealous... weight jealous champ.
He's done it! He's done it!
Dorian's the most annoying man in the world!
Who would have ever thought a journeyman annoyer like Dorian?
- You were a close second. - I have a couple announcements.
There's a serious problem with not getting to know our patients.
Yes, the doctor told you to administer Haldol, but why is he prescribing it?
Does the patient have a chance of sundowning or psychotic breaks
and needs to be tied down? You have to ask these questions, right?
Child, we are swamped.
When do you think we're gonna get that kind of time?
Laverne, if you care, you'll go the extra mile, like my husband. Turk?
You have patients on the floor. What can you tell us about them?
I'm cutting out that guy's appendix,
I'm sewing up her lacerated spleen, and I'm slicing off that dude's foot.
- Great. Why are you doing those things? - Cos it says so on the charts.
What'd I do?
J.D., you up for some coffee?
Can't. I've almost got Mrs Kasuba's condition figured out.
Hey, I'll join you for a cup of mud.
Great! Meet me downstairs in five minutes.
I'll be there. Just let me wash this glue off my hands.
What was he glueing?
Not again.
Can't believe you're on a date with the janitor.
J.D., it's just coffee. It's not a date.
Milady.
I have to go.
Baby, don't be mad. You know about surgeons.
We're hammers and our patients are nails,
and hammers don't get to know nails.
They hammer them. Why? Because... hammers.
For the last time, I'm not gonna call you "The Hammer."
I was trying to make a point to my nurses and I needed you to back me up.
None of the other hammers get to know patients.
None of them get to do what you did to me last night, either.
Come on, papi.
Give it to me.
See? When I clap my hands at the same time, it looks totally real.
I know! Let's go freak out J. D!
OK. Fine, I'll try.
One condition.
Give me some.
Oh, my God!
I think it, and she does it.
Acute intermittent porphyria!
I figured it out! All right, who's got Dr Cox's pager number?
Who am I kidding? I got my Perry's pager song.
Dr Cox at my door Pager 324...
There it is. Laverne, I'm gonna need you to get
Mrs Kasuba started on IV. Dextrose and haematin.
Dr Reid already ordered that.
She what?
You know what, J. D? I've got to run.
Are you OK here?
She figured it out before me.
There are a lot of things that can knock a guy on his ass...
All right, now, before we start,
just in case my wife asks, and she probably will,
what'd this guy do to get his foot cut off?
Whether it's catching a glimpse of what the future might hold...
He has diabetes.
Or realising you've done the most embarrassing thing in your life.
Stupid Janitor.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid.
Even that's not as bad as it can get.
Why didn't you tell me?
I thought that after I bailed you out
of that train wreck code you could use a win.
- Great diagnosis there, Barbie. - Wasn't me. J.D. Figured it out.
Well, then, nice job, Nancy.
The worst thing is realising when a friend is taking pity on you.
- I've never been a great liar. - Lookin' straight, Bruce.
That's why I knew it'd be better for me if I fessed up to Dr Cox.
Elliot diagnosed Mrs Kasuba, not me.
I know. And your guilty anguish is... delicious.
It's like a little mini-meal between lunch and dinner.
It's all I can do not to grind pepper on your head.
I don't get it. When'd she become a better doctor?
Probably during one of those times you were goofing off.
Hey, as soon as I step foot in this hospital, I'm all business.
Good morning, Dr Cox, from the world's most giant doctor.
That was outside the hospital. Plus, Elliot was the legs.
Sure, she's skinny, but she's thick through the trunk.
If you could just help me with these train wreck codes.
You're at that stage where you and your equally undistinguished colleagues
have had enough training to help each other.
So no matter how humiliating it may seem,
if you know somebody who's better than you,
and I'm bettin' that you do,
you had best tuck that ridiculously feminine tail of yours
between your legs and go ask her for help.
I'm thinking that's just about it.
Yup. I... Gosh, I'm all out of speeches.
I don't think I have another one on me.
I... I don't.
The... These are my goodbye guns.
Those aren't real guns.
Why is my stapler on the floor?
Thong!
Face five. Oh, yeah!
- You taught Todd the slap thing? - Nope. How was surgery?
- Oh, it was fine. - Honey bear, you look blue.
- Have a cookie. - Nah, Laverne.
No more jacking up my man's blood sugar so you can buy yourself a camper.
So this is all a big joke to you guys?
Cos this is my life and I don't think it's funny.
Now I gotta try to get back in on that craps game in the basement.
I don't know. This whole blonde doctor situation has me mortified.
I gathered the brain trust here to help me figure out a way out of this.
Uh-oh, bro. There she is.
You want me to hobble her?
That's not hobbling, that's poking. What's the matter with you?
Here's a chance to learn a lesson as a group.
Sometimes you gotta face the music and own up to what you've done.
Hi, blonde doctor.
Before when we almost had coffee,
I feel like I made you feel uncomfortable.
No. I wasn't...
You know, the only reason I was wearing a suit at all
was because our... a capella band was practicing.
Oh, that's great! What's your band's name?
It's Hibbleton.
Yeah, yeah. And I don't think it's going too far to say
that we're the best hospital employee band in town.
Oh, really?
I'll clear his airway.
His O2 stat's dropping. His abdomen's distended.
We need you to do a lavage. What're you gonna do?
- Damn! - J.D., it's OK. It's good practice.
That's why we're down here.
You know, I don't like you guys playing with my cadavers.
Really? How come that one there has a soda in his hand?
He keeps it cold.
How come you were sitting with three corpses playing Texas Hold 'Em?
Just call first from now on.
I don't know what to do when everything goes wrong at once.
- It's overwhelming. - Want to know what my big secret is?
Just take one deep breath.
Everything will slow down and you can tackle each thing as it comes.
That's your big secret? Breathing?
Why do you have a problem with me teaching you stuff?
It's just you're a little smug.
You called yourself Dr Diagnosis and made me your sidekick.
You've been the golden boy here for the past three years
while I've cried in closets, hid from Dr Cox,
and relied on you every day to get me through it.
Now that I'm doing well enough to pay you back, you can tell me
- why you're being an unbelievable jerk. - You're supposed to struggle, not me.
Baby, what's going on with you?
Ever since I got this thing, I've been joking around about it,
sneaking cookies, and hiding from it.
All because I'm scared to ask myself the questions.
Is it gonna get worse?
Or are our kids gonna have it?
Or how old am I gonna be when it finally gets me?
You don't understand.
I don't understand?
Turk, look at me. I'm a WOD.
I keep trying to tell you this, but it's the mirror in the bathroom, baby.
You haven't gained a pound since I met you.
No, I'm a WOD. "Wife of diabetic."
That's what they call us in all the diabetic chat rooms.
I spend a lot of time on the computer
talking about how proud I am of my husband and how he's handling this.
How he's able to make jokes about it and money.
It's OK to be afraid. I am.
But I have to tell you, I don't know what I would do
if you suddenly became someone who lets something own you.
Yeah. Well, you win.
Your band didn't even sing yet.
There's no need. You win.
Come on, Janitor.
For me.
One second.
Bring it in. Oh, God.
OK, I don't ask for much, just a little help with a stain
every now and then.
I'd like to be able to communicate with animals.
But right now, oh, boy, we need a miracle.
Hibbleton, whatever that means, on three.
One, two, three.
- Hibbleton. - Hibbleton.
Hibbleton!
I found myself looking down on Mr Kravitz,
Elliot's train wreck patient from this morning.
Apparently, the irony wasn't lost on him, either.
You've got to be kidding, Mr Kravitz. Twice?
- BP's dropping. - He's becoming bradycardic.
Doctor!
And things did slow down.
Dopamine. Run it wide open. Get me an airway. I need a pacing wire.
No pulse.
I think the second you stop fighting it, time really is on your side...
... and you can go on being who you are...
... or keep enjoying that little crush of yours.
To you.
Cheers.
What do you say we go for the first ever triple giant doctor?
Oh, that's impossible. I know you've got strong legs and...
I need you to place an IV on the second floor. Room 208.
Greetings!
I'm the world's most, most giant doct...
Little help.
Little help. Yeah.
Sir. Not that kind of help.
If I let go, will you guys catch me?
No.
Well, I'm going for it anyway!
Lonnie? Lonnie?
I hate you, J.D.
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