02x12 - Nottingham 7

[bunniefuu]

(device beeping rhythmically)

Count, please. Set to ten times.

30... 150...

160.

Good, that's it. Mark and cut.

(beeping stops)

So did I hear whispers about, uh, you and Charlie breaking up?

Are you trying to rattle me? 'Cause I am focusing on whether or not her breast cancer has spread.

They're keeping it professional at work.

Oh, I'll take that as true.

(beeping)

160. (beeping stops)

Cautery and tonsil clamp.

Okay, well...

I respect that. (grunts)

So he broke up with you?

No.

It wasn't that definitive.

Oh.

Good. Now, to keep the lines clean, just put your hand here, pinch the other hand, and pinch, pull down...

You can tug. It's strong.

Okay. All done?

Pinch and pull down.

Is there anything else I can get you, Emilia?

Uh, yeah, is there any way you can get someone to fix my TV?

Does she look like a concierge?

Dr. Reid, let's go.

I'll see what I can do.

What about this patient?

You got the pathology report?

Mm-hmm.

Nottingham...

That's a modification of S.B.R. cancer grading, right?

So Nottingham 7 is a high score.

Considering the Nottingham scale only goes to 9, I'd say so.

Why wasn't this picked up in earlier mammograms?

Um, she hadn't had one in a few years.

(scoffs) Wow, this woman is in serious denial.

Why is that?

A 2.5 centimeter tumor in the lower pole?

If she takes a bath or puts on a bra, she would have felt it.

Perhaps she did.

Perhaps she thought it was benign tissue.

Not at her age.

And what age is that? 16? 75?

Do you have to make everything a test?

Okay.

See the relationship between the stroma and the lobules.

They're almost equal, which means she's not producing milk.

So she's menopausal.

Clever girl. So what's your recommendation?

A t2 triple negative tumor with a Nottingham 7 grade... has to come out fast, as I'm sure you've told her.

I didn't, but you just did.

Dana...

(types) Turns out wearing a white coat doesn't make me immune.

(sighs)

(folder rustles)

♪

Kate Herzig: ♪ you dare me to dance ♪

(camera shutter clicking)

♪ you offer your hand ♪

You're kind of young for a hip implant, aren't you?

Too old to dance... but just old enough to qualify for the endura-hip.

How's my star patient?

Joel!

You made it. (camera shutter continues clicking)

I did.

Uh, Danny, get a picture of me and the world's best hip surgeon.

I'm just here for moral support.

Get your butt over here.

Yeah, go on. Go.

Come on, come on...

Okay, I'm not dancing.

Mm-hmm. Mm.

Mm-hmm.

Blake, any idea when this campaign is gonna launch?

I doubt we'd be paying you for an endorsement if F.D.A. and health Canada approval wasn't imminent. (chuckles)

Mm.

All right.

Mm-hmm. (grunts)

(camera shutter continues clicking)

Oh, I'm so sorry. Did I dip you too low?

Oh, no. No, it's okay.

It's a little achy lately. It's just...

Probably the flu, Karl. (chuckles)

Honey, I'm Karl. Joel's the pretty one.

Hi, Karl. Mm.

This morning she called me "Jasper."

That's her dog's name.

How about when you're done here, you swing by the hospital. Let me, uh... give you the once-over?

Okay.

Okay?

Yeah.

Danny... take a picture of us. (camera shutter clicking)

Okay, here's what's gonna happen.

But you don't know what's gonna happen.

No one does.

What is it? What's wrong?

What?

What's the real problem?

There isn't a problem.

Then let her do her job.

I'm waiting for her.

No, you're complaining.

You know what? I'm gonna have to reschedule.

Dana, what the hell is going on?

(sighs) I'm afraid of needles.

(siren wailing in distance)

Good range of motion.

Well, it's not gonna get me back on stage, but, uh, I'll be happy with climbing windows.

Honey, you mean climb the stairs.

That's what I said.

You should check his hearing.

Well, the hip seems fine. Um...

Yeah.

I would just like to get some imaging and take some blood, just to rule out infection.

Okay.

Um, take a seat for me.

There is the tumor, and there are the tiny radioactive seeds... (exhales deeply) kind of like laying down a path of bread crumbs.

(clatters) Okay, I've got to get back to work.

Um...

Here.

A lot of patients like to keep this.

Do they?

It reminds them of who their enemy is.

Hopefully, this will lead your surgeon straight to the tumor.

Okay, let's go.

Who is your surgeon, by the way?

You are.

Dana, I've only done about 2 dozen lumpectomies.

They were all under your supervision.

Now, Dave Rothbarts at the general... he's the king of oncoplastics.

Actually, I am.

(sighs) Yes.

But you can hardly do surgery on yourself.

With you acting as my hands, doing exactly what I say, I think I can.

There are other surgeons. Why me?

Because I trained you, and you're fearless with a blade.

So I'll know I get a clean cut and good margins.

Okay. Maybe with enough time and preparation, I can...

I booked the O.R. for Thursday. You've got 48 hours.

(button clicks)

(siren wailing in distance)

(horns honking in distance)

Blake. (sighs)

What are you doing here?

Ever since I sold you on the endura-hip, we never seem to find the time to just hang out.

And so I thought that maybe... we could do dinner.

You really shouldn't be looking at those.

I really shouldn't have slept with you either, but I did, and it was fun.

Besides, Paulina waived her privacy rights when she signed on to do the implant trial.

And I don't see any signs of loosening or early wear.

Yeah, those femoral and acetabular components seem fine.

Yeah.

Hey.

(P.A. tone sounds)

(woman on P.A.) Code blue to the coffee kiosk.

We-we were heading home.

She wa... she was tired and wanted a coffee.

Then she just dropped.

Okay, okay. Step back, Charlie.

Yeah.

I got this.

Karl: Can you tell me what's going on?

Okay, ready?

Do fore and aft.

Here we go.

Okay, starting the first cycle of compressions.

Let's get her to the E.R. We'll tube her When we get the crash cart. No rushing, steady pace. (gurney clacks)

Let's go! Let's go! (wheels clacking)

That's my life going away.

(sighs)

Yes, it is.

We gave her the full resus.

Sorry, man.

I was just dancing with her.

What happened?

That's what I wanna know.

She's 40 years old.

How could this have happened?

We all want answers, Karl.

Joel: Absolutely.

That's why we need you to consent to an autopsy.

What are you, starting a fire?

My hands are cold. I want to warm them. (blows raspberry)

Okay. I'm gonna touch you now.

Mm-hmm.

I don't need a play-by-play.

I like to tell my patients in advance. (inhales deeply)

Just relax.

Oh, hmm.

What?

That's a large mass.

Am I squeezing too hard?

No male doctor would ever ask me that.

You make being considerate sound unprofessional.

Your attention should be on the tumor, not on the patient.

(sighs) The tumor is part of the patient.

All done.

I want to thank you for having such faith in me.

Never thank anyone for what you got by your own talent.

Wow. Using a compliment to criticize...

I didn't think it could be done.

Okay, I'd like to get an M.R.I.

(scoffs) Waste of money.

I've had more than enough imaging.

Well, I don't want any surprises that might affect your oncological management, or your reconstructive plan. So... (pen clicks)

What's that?

A standard surgical consent form.

(clacks) Satisfied?

Dana... that's where I sign.

You sign for the patient.

(clatters)

Thank you.

(thuds)

(clacks)

(clattering)

(sighs)

(whispers) This one. Okay.

Oh, great. You just ruined a sterile tray.

Sorry. I have choreographed every move.

My instruments need to be lined up in exactly this way.

Alex, look, I...

I know you're going through some stuff with Charlie, but I know how to lay out a lumpectomy tray.

This has to be perfect.

And it will be... on the day.

When exactly is the surgery?

11: 00 A.M. Thursday.

Not in here, I mean, Kinney has it booked for some mystery guest. (cell phone buzzes)

I bet it's that ballplayer who broke his nose on his girlfriend's shoul...

Dr. Reid.

What?! That's not her call to make.

If Alex is operating in here, then what's Dana doing?

Aren't they supposed to be here every morning at 10: 00 A.M.?

Mm-hmm.

Can you make sure that's gonna happen for me?

Okay, good. Thank you very much.

So you canceled your blood tests?

There's zero indication for B.R.C.A. gene testing.

If I order a test, I order it because I think it's clinically relevant.

How? I'm not of Ashkenazi descent.

I know the criteria.

I don't have any first or second degree relatives with breast or ovarian cancer.

Didn't you say your mother was spanish?

From Galicia.

Okay, well, there is a founder c211a mutation that is associated with...

Okay.

There's diligent, and then there's just plain officious.

We know I've got cancer, kiddo, I don't need any more tests. Stop wasting hospital money.

Hey, um, there's still no sign of the TV guy.

I'll call him.

Oh, for god's sake. You are a surgeon.

Act like one.

(sighs)

(siren wailing in distance) Hey.

How did the celebrity photo sh**t go?

Paulina Durrell...

Yeah.

The ballerina who was part of it...

She was the code blue. She didn't make it.

What? That's horrible. What happened?

I have absolutely no idea.

You know, I should go to the cut now.

Let's talk about something else. How was your day?

Mm. Oy.

I'm a little nervous about a lumpectomy that I'm doing on Thursday.

That's a relatively straightforward procedure, isn't it?

Yes, but this particular patient is a very controlling, intimidating type.

Well, um... talk to Dana.

She's pretty good with tough patients.

Hey.

Thanks for coming, man.

Yeah, well, I know what it's like to lose a patient.

What can I do?

I really need another set of eyes on this.

Hello, Blake. What you doing here?

Are you worried about litigation?

I see you haven't lost your cynicism, Charlie.

Yeah, any, uh, findings on cause?

I believe the scientific term for this is "whoa, mama."

That's a crazy big heart.

Yeah, the autopsy report will indicate intrinsic cardiomyopathy.

And sectioning of the brain revealed neurodegeneration at a much higher rate than I'd expect for her age.

Now when you were with her earlier, did she exhibit any neurological symptoms?

Uh, fatigue and an odd kind of aphasia.

Uh, she would mix up nouns.

Okay, any common denominator between brain and heart?

Blood, maybe?

What would you expect the cobalt ion content of her blood to be?

Mm, I'm guessing maybe 1 or 2 micrograms per liter?

Right, well, this poor woman's was higher by a factor of 6,000.

Suggesting the hip implant k*lled her?

That's a big leap, Charlie.

Actually, I'm not suggesting that at all.

Stating a fact.

This is what we suctioned out of the capsule.

Metallosis.

Right.

And, uh, it didn't show up on the X-ray, but, um...

See how the metal's worn down there on the left-hand side of that?

A flaw in the forging process?

Metal broke down... got into her bloodstream, and it poisoned her.

That is exactly what I was thinking.

Well, that's one theory.

I'm sure the metallurgists will have one, and the hematologists, yet another.

There's nothing simple about putting foreign objects in the human body.

So instead of jumping to conclusions, How about we get this right?

(P.A. tone sounds)

(woman speaking indistinctly on P.A.)

First, I will transect the terminal ducts and separate the nipple areola complex from the underlying tissue.

With what margin of normal tissue?

1 centimeter.

You're certain?

If I can do it in .5, I will.

But maintaining the integrity of the vascular supply is my priority.

And how do you excise the parenchyma?

In a fusiform pattern towards the N.A.C.

And then?

Then I close.

What about the hemoclips? Oh! Right!

If we don't put the hemoclips on Dana's pectoralis and lateral edges, there'll be no guidance for radiation.

Dana, you're talking about yourself in the third person now.

Okay, that's it. We're done here.

(sighs) You are such a great surgeon, but you are the world's worst patient.

What are you still doing here?

Stop taking it out on everyone.

You're fired. Go away.

Listen, I know that you're worried.

I am not worried.

I am angry because you are not up to the job.

(thuds) You're not angry, you're scared.

You know what? That's why Charlie left you.

Really? What was your husband's excuse?

Oh, you are so fired.

This tumor is not going away because you say so, Dana, and neither am I.

(paper hits floor)

You know, when Sabian Medical asked me to participate in the clinical trials...

I jumped.

I thought, finally we'll have a hip implant that never needs replacing.

(pen clicks)

This is the result.

Well, don't b*at yourself up.

Everyone wants to believe in the miracle.

Well, you were smart enough not to get involved.

(chuckles) Yeah.

That's only 'cause I got b*rned on the last miracle implant.

(drawer clatters) How about a drink?

Um... (sighs) I really have to take this to pathology.

Actually, that's going with me.

What do you mean, it's going with you?

You know the terms of our clinical trial...

Any implant removed from participants becomes the sole property of Sabian Medical Devices.

What, is that the only reason that you wanted to conduct the autopsy... just to get your prosthesis? (sighs)

If there is a design flaw here, I want to know about it, and I want to get it fixed.

Yeah, we all do.

(chuckles) Okay.

But let's get some perspective here.

This is just one hip...

Just one failure out of 3,000 implants to date.

That's less than any prosthesis on the market.

(engine turns off)

(dog barks in distance)

(doorbell rings)

Uh, mom, Alex is here!

Molly... I'm surprised you remember me.

Yeah.

Hey.

Hi.

Um, I'm at Sherri's until 11: 00 studying french.

So I will see you later.

Studying or meeting Jason? 'Cause I don't see a textbook.

C'est ici, ma belle mère.

Good, well, study hard, because you just called me your "mother-in-law."

(groans) Oh.

It's "très belle mère."

Yes, love you.

How are you getting home?

Sherri's mom.

God, if that skirt were any shorter, it would be a scarf.

I had hem inspection every morning.

So did I.

Sister Valenciaga with a ruler.

2 1/2 inches above the knee, max.

You're still fired, by the way.

I'd quit if I wasn't.

I'm making carrot and coriander soup.

Or leek and potato, courgette and mint.

Yes. (sighs) I know.

I've been cooking. It helps me think.

(clinks)

That's a lot of thinking.

Mm-hmm.

So, doctor... making house calls?

Remember the B.R.C.A. test you canceled?

Mm-hmm. The one that saved the hospital $3,000...

What about it?

Well, I guess they didn't get the facts Because they sent me the results.

Oh.

(pot lid clatters) It's come back positive.

Which means the risk of a recurrence of breast cancer is...

(slams pot lid shut) 80%, yes.

I know the prognosis.

Not great odds.

(chopping)

So they'll have to come off. Hmm?

Well, I-I think that's a little hasty.

With proper monitoring, There may be no need for a double mastectomy.

Off!

And the ovaries, too. Just take 'em out.

(chopping continues)

(siren wailing in distance)

Karl thought I was having an affair

Because I sneak off thursdays.

Well, we all have our secrets.

I was gonna tell him at the recital.

See, I started teaching this class...

Young kids... having their first recital Thursday.

I thought maybe you could go.

Be me.

And wear a tutu? No, thank you.

No.

See, before the kids go on stage, we have this secret ritual.

They can't dance without it.

You know, my, um... fiancée... or I guess, ex-fiancée... took me to a ballet once.

(sighs) And I fell asleep.

(strained voice) So why live with the anxiety of the recurrence of cancer when you can take control?

(cork pops)

But is a double mastectomy the right way?

I'm an all or nothing kind of gal.

But you want to keep your nipples?

Definitely. (bottle thuds)

Losing them reduces the risk of recurrence to 1%.

(sighs) Where the hell is that pizza?

Ugh, I don't know. I mean, after two bowls of soup, I'm stuffed.

Wait till you see our delivery guy.

(chuckles) You're drunk.

(doorbell rings)

(clinks)

(cell phone buzzes)

(chuckles) How are you?

Man: I'm well. How are you?

Hi.

Well, I'm having a crap day. How about you?

I'm over at Dana's.

Oh... (chuckles) Stop.

Yeah, my spies told me that.

How is she taking it?

I think she's pretty much in denial.

Extra special topping...

Listen, I was thinking about that, uh, that time you took me to the ballet.

And I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry...

(inhales deeply)

I'm sorry for spoiling it because I fell asleep.

Charlie... you can't do this.

You can't just call me.

I know.

Anyways, you got it backwards, like you do everything.

I'm the one who worked the triple shift.

I fell asleep. You stayed awake.

You loved it.

(sniffs)

Dana, chuckles: That's strong.

I gotta go.

Have a good evening.

Yes.

(footsteps depart)

(laughing)

I just scored some pot and a pizza.

(laughter)

Whoo!

(box thuds)

Let's go skinny dipping.

(chuckles) You are officially out of control.

Good!

Because I'm sick and tired of being in control.

I've been in control my entire life.

And where has it gotten me? Huh?

I'm passed over for chief, my husband has left me for his secretary, and I am paying him alimony.

I'm a single mother with breast cancer... who's terrified that she's never gonna live to see her daughter grow up.

(whispers) Dana.

(sobs and inhales sharply)

Sorry, I don't mean to get maudlin, I...

It's okay.

It's just...

(sighs)

Remember how we used to pray for these when we were kids?

And then somehow we forget, right? We... we just take them for granted, but they are so useful...

And pretty...

And they feed babies.

Fun for the whole family.

(sighs) Girls...

(inhales deeply) it's been great.

To the pointer sisters.

(clink)

So I appreciate you coming in at the last minute.

I know I wasn't supposed to see you until next month.

I'm just gonna examine your range of motion.

Has it ever given out on you?

Very, very impressive, mate.

Uh, how about we get you down to the lab, check out your blood, just to, uh, be safe?

(sighs) That's it. Just walk.

(exhales deeply)

I hate to put you through it again.

Um... this hip has to come out.

It's my anniversary next month.

I promised my wife we'd go dancing.

Well, how about I do it this Thursday?

(sighs) I'll replace it with a ceramic.

(P.A. tone sounds)

(woman speaking indistinctly on P.A.)

(P.A. tone sounds)

(grunts) You said you had some sort of secret magic ritual for your dancers for this recital thingy.

I'm not about to tell you if you're not going.

But it's-it's only magic that you can do.

Or my emissary.

Me talking to dancers is stranger than me talking to you. (chuckles)

Tell me what to say.

You'll know what to say.

No leotards, right?

Mnh-mnh.

I'll do it.

Thank you.

(whispers) Whoa! Ah, sh**t! (chuckles)

I'm so cold...

(blows air) Come on.

(dog barking in distance)

(exhales sharply) Okay.

Let's go! Let's go! (doorknob rattles)

Ah, come on. Don't tell me we're locked out.

Oh!

No, no, no, no, no, no, there's a key around here someplace.

Unbelievable.

Oh, come on. You had a blast.

You cannonballing into that pool...

That's the most fun you've had since this whole Charlie thing.

Mm, you don't need to hear my sad little story.

No, I need to pee.

Pee in a bush.

(whispers) Okay.

(wine sloshing in bottle)

Where's the key?

(vehicle approaches, siren whoops)

Oh, this is not good.

Oh.

(car door closes) I've got this.

Okay.

(male officer) Evening, ladies.

Evening, officer.

I had a call... two naked trespassers. (police radio chatter)

She said we were allowed to.

Well... you said we were allowed to.

Actually... (chuckles, blows raspberry)

Okay, okay.

Officer, we are not trespassers.

We're actually doctors.

You want a tummy tuck? I'm your gal.

She lives here.

Great. Let's go with that.

Okay.

Can you tell me your address?

Oh! Here it is.

sh**t. Empty.

Officer, if you could just let us in, she'll be able to prove that she lives... (glass breaks)

(radio chatter continues)

Okay.

(handle clicks, glass shatters)

Ooh! We're good to go.

No! I was just...

Just please...

Hands on the hood! Both of you. (laughs)

(whispers) This is serious.

I know.

(blows raspberry) Ooh, hey. Don't make this a love story.

Okay, okay...

Anything in your pockets that could hurt me?

Oh-oh.

Play the card.

No.

Yes, if there was ever a time to play the card, it's now.

(static, radio chatter)

Officer? Yeah, um...

I-I have cancer, and so that's medicinal... for chemo.

I almost have a prescription.

And she's writing me one.

I'm her doctor.

It's-it's fine.

Thanks for calling.

Hey, I need to bring you up to speed.

I called in all of our mutual patients.

Um, and I...

You should take a look at what I discovered.

(purse thuds)

What are those cloudy bits right there?

My guess is they are pseudo-cysts.

They are little pieces of metal that have broken away from the implant.

The immune system sort of... contains them in the soft tissue.

And, um... it's kind of like an oyster makes a pearl out of a grain of sand.

Except these pearls mean my product is worthless.

Look, if it was only Paulina's hip that had failed, then I'd tell you this is an outlier, but... to-to have 3 faulty hips out of 2 dozen...

Suggests a catastrophic design failure. (alcohol pouring)

It certainly destroys your chance of F.D.A. approval, yeah.

Mind you, the trouble may not be with the product.

It may just be the surgeon.

I'm sorry, what did you say?

You're the common denominator here, Joel.

This could be surgical error.

Uh, well, no one can make that case.

(chuckles) Well, it doesn't have to be true to do damage.

I think you should leave.

Gee, I didn't realize when we slept together, that you had such thin skin.

It was one time.

Mm.

It was as night of scotch and bad judgment.

It was twice, if you count the elevator...

(chuckles) and I do.

(police radio chatter)

(sighs)

Are you gonna tell Molly?

(sighs) Why would I put that anxiety on her?

Right? I mean, her chances of getting breast cancer, even if she has inherited the B.R.C.A. gene, are almost nil until she's 35. And...

(radio chatter continues)

(sighs)

(officer speaks indistinctly)

(voice breaking) And I want her to love her body, not fear it.

(police radio chatter)

(officer) Okay.

So if I can protect her from reality a little while longer, I will.

Well...

My mom never protected me from anything, so...

Okay. (sighs)

Everything checks out.

Dr. Kinney, I'm gonna go next door and see if I can get the neighbor to calm down and forget about this.

So you're not gonna arrest us?

Um... ca-can I keep my pot? (chuckles)

(sighs) My shirley didn't make it.

Stage 4 ovarian. (sighs)

You two take care.

Thank you.

(breathes deeply) Good night, ladies.

Good night.

(voice breaking) Alex, please be my surgeon.

(sighs) I can't... I can't do this alone.

I need to have a friend in there with me.

Sure, Dana, of course.

Mom?

What the hell is going on here?

(chuckles) Oh!

Are you drunk?

(sighs) Honey, erase this image from your mind.

Really, your mother was possessed by a crazy lady, but she's back, and she loves you very, very much.

(chuckles) You're drunk.

(sighs deeply)

(monitor beeping steadily, liquid pouring)

Suctioning now. (suction gurgling)

Whoa, that is grotty.

(whooshing and gurgling)

How's that looking for you?

Like we're ready to go, I think. (chuckles)

Okay, let me loosen the charnley, Charlie.

(clattering)

All right.

(cracks)

(monitor beeps)

(clanks)

(squeaking and clattering)

Joel: Ready?

(clanking)

Look at that.

It's in even worse shape than Paulina's.

(thuds)

I think I found a way to reconcile my desire to keep you cancer-free with your desire to keep your nipples. (scoffs)

Alex, forget my vanity.

All I care about is being around to see how Molly's life turns out.

I get that, but I can save them and still drop your risk of recurrence from 5% down to 1% if I do intraoperative radiation before reconstruction.

But we don't have an intrabeam.

We do today.

I called Dave Rothbarts at Western Gen.

He sent it over.

His technician is setting it up in O.R. 3 as we speak.

I'll do the mastectomy, wheel you next door... (package rips) do the radiation, zip you back over, and do reconstruction.

I can't believe Dave Rothbarts is lending me his prized possession.

You have friends, Dana... people who love you.

(inhales sharply)

I was at home, and someone put this under my door.

That's a confidential document, man.

Sir, read it.

Read it.

(sighs) Sabian Medical knew.

It's all spelt out right there. Check the date.

It's last year, before Paulina even had her hip implant.

Have you taken this to a lawyer?

Of course I have.

But Paulina trusted you.

I didn't know anything about this, man.

I know. That's why I'm here.

I need your help.

You want to go up against the number two medical device firm in the world.

What are you, on dr*gs?

Okay.

Forget I even asked.

Okay, you asked me.

'Cause you know that Charlie tilts at windmills, and you need a sane person to tell you that you're gonna blow up your career.

Oh, come on, Dawn. They knew.

How?

They knew the alloy would fail, and yet they kept going.

Why would they do that, Charlie?

They made a calculation that profits they would make would be ten times what they'd eventually have to pay out on the prosthesis that failed.

Paulina Durrell was just a line item to them.

Ten hospitals participated in this trial.

Seven of those hips have failed.

Paulina's the first fatality.

You fight them, we all fight them, whether we want to or not.

Well, here comes the drama queen.

Every news story is not gonna be "Dr. Joel Goran."

It's gonna be "Dr. Joel Goran, chief of surgery at Hope Zion."

Dawn, they knew the hip would fail, and yet, they sold it anyway.

A woman d*ed here.

My patient d*ed.

I have 2 dozen other patients out there with the same implant.

I can't do nothing.

And you can't be an effective chief if you take this on.

Alex is bringing her down in five.

Okay?

So the lawyer's on his way here to meet me.

Just think it through, Joel.

Before you agree to anything, just... (slides paper, taps table) really think it through.

(chair clatters)

(inhales and exhales deeply)

(sighs)

I love this drug. Mm.

Mmm... (chuckles)

Emilia, have you gotten your TV fixed yet?

Uh, no, but I, uh, check out tomorrow.

You know what? 'Cause I have a big TV in my room.

So why don't you come down and watch it there?

Uh, wow, sure. Thank... thank you.

Okay. Good.

Oh. Is she stoned?

Oh, my gosh. Oh, you guys.

Dana, you look like you could use a really awful hat.

Oh. (chuckles)

You're with the best.

The very best.

Yeah.

And hey, at least it's not on your face, right?

Right. (laughter)

If you need anything, you just...

You just let us know. Yeah, errands, anything. I'll see you in there.

Yeah... Yeah, yeah.

You're not losing 'em, you're just replacing 'em.

And you have a very good chance of survival.

(laughs) First year med, You gave that lecture on the art of surgery.

Got me hooked.

Joel: Yeah, you make us all better, Dana.

It's time to return the favor.

(sighs) Thanks, guys.

Ready?

All right. (wheels clacking)

(chuckles)

I'm fine.

I'll just hold your hand while you get the needle.

(exhales sharply and whispers) Okay.

(breathing deeply)

(monitor beeping steadily)

Is she out?

Oh, yeah. She's had the plat du jour...

A hundred mics of fentanyl, with a side of propofol.

(inhales deeply) Kn*fe.

(exhales deeply)

Okay.

Alex: Kocher's.

(instruments clattering)

(whispers) All right.

Retractor.

(beeps)

(instruments continue clattering)

(instrument clacks) Cautery.

(high-pitched whirring, searing)

Way to work that superomedial.

I feel like I'm on the dark side of the moon.

We got just the music for that.

Not today, Victor.

(monitors beeping)

Hey. (inhales sharply and exhales deeply)

People need to stop doing that.

Supposed to hate you.

(scoffs) I want to.

But then I look at you, and you seem as lost and heartbroken as she does.

(sighs)

You still love her?

More than sunshine.

Then I can't figure out why you did it.

Why don't you take Alex to dinner?

Talk to her, listen to her.

Be her friend.

Just focus on that.

I can palpate the tumor.

(inhales deeply) Here it comes.

(beeps)

Maggie, mark the orientation with a lateral stitch.

Okay.

It's about 3 centimeters.

Yeah, let's get it to pathology.

(sighs)

Ow!

(grunts and pants)

(groaning) Ow.

These drains hurt like hell. They pull up my skin.

Are they supposed to be just hanging down like this?

Here, I, um, I... I brought you this.

It's a, um, it's a... it's a runner's belt.

They carry water in them, but it-it works. (chuckles)

Well...

Thank you.

Yeah.

Listen, um, about the other day, um...

Yeah, you were... you were really bitchy.

Well, you were so passive.

I mean, how are you gonna survive chemo and radiation if you don't learn how to fight?

I'm... still mad at you.

Good.

Yeah, like... (grunts)

(grunts) Yes... yes, like that.

(chuckles) Good, we're gonna work on that.

Okay.

Okay. (chuckles)

(indistinct conversations, telephone ringing in distance)

Hey, guys. Uh, I have a little announcement to make.

I'm afraid a situation's arisen that makes my continuing here as chief of surgery untenable.

I'm therefore resigning effective immediately.

Wow.

Why? What's going on?

Wow. Kaboom... (imitates expl*si*n)

Gavin: Who's gonna be the interim chief? (Shahir clears throat)

Well, I-I think it has to be someone fair, you know, tough-minded and... and objective.

Obviously, that's for the board to decide.

Well, until that time, I'd like to take this opportunity to throw my support behind Dawn.

Okay.

♪

Okay.

♪

I'm in. Let's do it.

♪

Take it easy.

I know. I know.

Nice. (wheels and lever clack)

Hi.

Hi!

The pathology report for your sentinel node dissection...

Negative.

Mom, that's great. It is, right?

It's really good.

It means I'm gonna be around for a while.

Good. (chuckles)

I thought you might want to go over my pitch to the tumor board for staging of chemo.

No. I trust my doctor.

We can go over it tomorrow.

No, no. Don't go. Don't go.

Stay, it's about to start.

Sorry, I'm late. Popcorn.

Ooh.

I snuck this past the nurses' station. (chuckles)

It's a party.

Molly: Come on!

Come on!

Come on.

Oh, what the hell.

(laughter)

Molly: It's starting, it's starting, it's starting.

Dana: Oh.

♪

Emilia: Gimme some of that.

Oh, I love it already.

(mouth full) Me, too.

Okay, they're gonna let the audience in, in a second, but before they do, I wanted to share a message with you from your teacher... miss Paulina... who, unfortunately, couldn't be with us tonight.

Um, and she said, "tonight..."

"you are the keepers of your own pixie dust."

"So carry it with you."

"And remember our little secret."

"Every night is opening night,"

"and every step you take is magic."

"So carry that in your hearts."

Oh, and... and who's Colleen?

Um... keep your toe out.

Anyway, one... two... three! Yay!

(girls) Yay!

Okay, places, everybody. Places!

(girls giggling)

Man: ♪ just breathe ♪