05x16 - Mr. Monk Goes to the Hospital

[bunniefuu]

[elevator bell dings]

[woman over P.A.] Paging Dr. Medford.

Dr. Medford.

[machine beeping]

So I said, "You can't leave your boy here all day.

This is where I live. This is not a day care center."

I know.

Well, it took me five years to tell her.

I'd been watching the kid, oh, gosh, since he was about six months old.

I know.

Well, since I work the night shift, I watch him during the day.

Well, that's it, I'm sleeping.

I am sleeping during the day.

Oh, no. How many months is she?

[scoffs] Oh, don't start.

[conversation fades]

[elevator bell dings]

[oxygen mask hissing every breath]

[oxygen mask hisses]

What are you doing out of bed?

[Randy Newman ragtime theme]

* It's a jungle out there

* Disorder and confusion everywhere *

* No one seems to care

* Well, I do

* Hey, who's in charge here?

* It's a jungle out there

* Poison in the very air we breathe *

* You know what's in the water that you drink? *

* Well, I do, and it's a-ma-zing *

* People think I'm crazy 'cause I worry all the time *

* If you paid attention, you'd be worried too *

* You'd better pay attention or this world we love so much *

* Might just k*ll you

* I could be wrong now

* But I don't think so

* 'Cause it's a jungle out there *

* It's a jungle out there *

[short siren burst]

(Natalie) Another step.

We're almost there.

One step at a time.

Ah, you're being so brave.

Tell them I'm a former police officer.

You can tell 'em yourself.

Okay, here we go.

(nurse) No, you can't bring them here.

We're out of beds.

Where I'm gonna put them, on the roof?

Well, try St. Barnabus. They might have room.

Hello.

Yeah.

What's she doing?

She's holding up a finger.

The bad finger?

No, Mr. Monk, the pointy finger.

Good luck. Can I help you?

Yes, this is Adrian Monk.

M-o-n...

M-o-n-k.

He has a bloody nose.

It's been bleeding all morning.

Yeah, it's been bleeding all morning.

It won't stop. It won't stop.

Cause of injury?

I was putting away my ironing board, which is normally a two-person job--

Mr. Monk, it's my day off.

It still is.

An ironing board. I need your insurance card.

Yes.

Fill this out, both sides.

Former police officer.

He's a former police officer.

I appreciate that, but he has to wait, just like everybody else.

You and your husband can have a seat over there.

Oh, we're not married.

Congratulations. Have a seat.

Oh--

(Monk) Wait a second.

Hey, wait, wait.

Excuse me.

I--I was here before him.

That man has a head wound.

This is a head wound.

That is not a head wound.

Actually, it is, technically.

You have a bloody nose.

It's a wound, and it's on my head.

Do you have a dictionary back there?

What is she doing?

Now it's the bad finger.

(Natalie) Let's sit down.

[Natalie laughing] Yes, I promise, I will definitely be there.

Okay, let's synchronize our watches.

I'm allergic to tetracycline.

Yeah, I know, Mr. Monk .

One dose of tetracycline will k*ll me.

Yeah, look, I have it right here.

Allergies: tetracycline.

I will probably b*at you there.

I'm right around the corner.

I'm at St. Mark's Hospital.

Emergency room.

Oh, it's not me, it's my boss.

It's a bloody nose.

[laughing]

I know. Okay.

Me too.

All right, bye.

Uh, Mr. Monk, I need--

Aw.

There's a light bulb out.

Yeah-- Two, actually.

Okay, Mr. Monk, I need to tell you something.

Don't freak out, but I've made some plans, and I'm just gonna go for a couple of hours.

No! No, no, no.

No, you can't leave. You can't leave me here.

Mr. Monk, you're in really good hands.

It's a really great hospital.

And I mean, come on, it's not like it's life or death.

It's a nosebleed.

How can you say that?

I've lost a gallon of blood.

I'm hemorrhaging.

You are not hemorrhaging.

Look, I've already cancelled on this guy three times because of-- well, because of you.

You're leaving me?

Don't say that.

Please don't make me cancel again.

I really, really like this guy.

You're leaving me. I'll be back by 2:30.

Natalie, I'm really scared.

You're always scared.

Yes, but now I'm scared and hemorrhaging.

Okay, Mr. Monk, come on, please.

I have been on call for 24 hours a day, seven days a week, and I'm exhausted.

I mean, it's my first day off in what, two months?

And this date, this guy-- it's important to me.

Oh, God.

God--

All right, but I mean, if you really, really want me to stay, I'll stay.

I want you to stay.

I can't stay.

Okay, I'll leave my phone on, all right?

I will be back in just a couple hours.

Okay, bye.

[babies crying, telephones ringing]

Is it seeping or oozing?

(nurse) Okay, Mr. Lam, you have to sign right here.

We're sending Mr. Lam right in.

Hello, excuse me.

I have been sitting there for an hour and a half.

I know, we're booked up, as you can see.

[speaking Vietnamese]

If I may?

I speak a little Vietnamese.

[speaking Vietnamese]

Okay.

[speaking Vietnamese] Yeah.

[speaking Vietnamese]

Yeah, he's saying that he's feeling much better.

He's feeling fine, and he would like to go home.

[speaking Vietnamese]

On a city bus.

[speaking Vietnamese]

Right. Yeah, yeah.

He thinks, uh-- he thinks this man-- oh, yeah, I guess he means me-- should go ahead of him.

I speak Vietnamese.

I'll be sitting right over here. Yeah, you do that.

[man over P.A.] Lupe to ICU, please. Lupe.

A nosebleed, huh?

Uh-huh.

My stepbrother had the same thing.

It turned out to be a cerebral hemorrhage.

He was dead in a week.

(nurse) Adrian Monk.

[man over P.A.] Michael Crawford, 340.

A cerebral hemorrhage? Mm.

Who told you that?

A very prominent patient. I didn't get her name.

Well, I have to respectfully disagree.

What you have is a simple rupture of the olfactory membrane.

Yeah? Your basic nosebleed.

I think I should be admitted, just for a few days, so you can be sure.

I'm gonna cauterize it.

Tilt your head back.

Here's the thing.

She said that her stepbrother had the exact same symptoms.

And here's the thing-- it feels like a cerebral hemorrhage.

Mr. Monk, I've seen a cerebral hemorrhage.

I interned with Graydon Whitcomb for two years.

Who's that?

He's the head of neurotrauma.

Let's call him.

I'll tell you what, if this doesn't work, I will take you upstairs to see Dr. Whitcomb, okay?

Yeah.

Now sit back.

Okay, this might sting a little bit.

Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

Okay. Okay.

All right.

Okay, wait, wait, wait--

Mr. Monk, I have other patients.

Can't we just wait till Natalie comes back?

Who's Natalie?

She's my assistant. She's on a date.

Sure.

[sighs]

What time do you think Natalie will be back?

Uh, probably, like--

Aah! There, that's it.

You're done. That's it?

Mm-hmm.

It stopped.

Unless-- Unless I'm out of blood.

That wasn't so terrible was it?

No. No.

Oh. [beeper beeping]

I have to take this.

Can you find your way out?

Yes, thank you.

You're welcome.

Thank you. You're welcome.

Thank you. You're welcome.

Thank-- Thank you.

You're welcome.

[loudly] Hello?

Hello?

[grunting]

"Whitcomb, 504."

[grunts] Whitcomb, 504.

[man on P.A.] Blue team to ICU, please. Blue team, ICU.

[elevator bell dings]

[knocking]

Hello?

Uh, excuse me, Dr. Whitcomb, I know you're busy.

My name is Adrian Monk.

I saw a doctor downstairs, but I would like a second opinion.

I thought maybe if I could check in for two or three days, you know, maybe you could run some tests.

Dr. Whitcomb?

Ow, ow!

Ow, God! Okay, I'm okay.

[pained grunts]

Captain.

What do you got?

There may have been somebody else here.

Look at that blood spatter.

Uh, no, no, that was me.

Sorry.

You still bleeding?

Yeah.

What'd the doctor say?

She cauterized it, but I don't think--

Sometimes you gotta cauterize 'em again, Monk.

I used to get nosebleeds all the time.

I'm not sure it is a nosebleed.

Well, what else could it be?

That's what I was gonna ask him.

Captain, I talked to the secretary.

What happened to your nose? Ow!

Uhh! It's okay.

It's all cool.

Yeah, it's all cool.

Monk, as long as you're here, could you--

Yeah, yeah, sure. Okay, no problem.

Empty bottles.

He took the pills, but not the bottles?

There's a drug rehab center downstairs.

We get addicts and junkies in here all the time.

Security's a nightmare, but we're a hospital.

We have to keep the doors open.

Why didn't he just take the bottles?

He wanted us to find these.

He wanted us to think junkie.

Oh, yeah, see there?

He was wearing slippers, rounded and smooth.

(Stottlemeyer) A patient.

Not a junkie, a patient.

(Stottlemeyer) What do you got?

There's powder.

Yeah.

Smells like talcum powder.

(Randy) Captain, look at this.

What is that?

That looks like a seal.

That could be from one of our oxygen tanks.

(Stottlemeyer) "Room 623."

623.

All right, let's move!

Uh, Lieutenant, that's the geriatric ward.

If he's a patient up there, he's at least 80 years old.

Well, then, we better move fast.

(Randy) All right, boys, 623. Let's go.

623.

There's a stain.

Must be a leak from upstairs.

Would you stand up straight?

It's just a nosebleed, for God's sake.

I hate hospitals.

(Stottlemeyer) Well, let's meet our suspect.

"Hank Johansen. 82 years old."

He's getting a colectomy on Wednesday morning.

[holster unsnaps]

I think you can secure your w*apon, Lieutenant.

That's a perfect match.

Get the tech guys down here. We've found our m*rder w*apon.

Yes, sir.

[dial pad beeping]

What do you think? Is he the guy?

Uh, stranger things have happened.

Although, I can't think of one offhand.

Yes, they have.

Look at this.

What?

Looks like it might have been readjusted.

Seems like it'd be too small for this guy.

Aah! What the hell are you doing?!

Uh--uh--uh--

Are you trying to kiss me?

No, no, no.

No, sir.

(Stottlemeyer) Mr. Johansen, hi.

I'm Captain Leland Stottlemeyer.

I'm a homicide detective.

This is Lieutenant Disher.

Who's your lady friend?

This is Adrian Monk.

He's a special consultant.

What happened to your nose? Uh--

You get sh*t?

sh*t? No, no.

But it is bleeding pretty badly.

I caught a b*llet in my nose in Korea.

It still hurts like a son of a bitch, but you don't hear me crying about it.

I'm not crying.

But you want to, don't you?

Yeah, he wants to cry. Yeah.

I'm gonna call you Soft Serve.

Like the ice cream-- soft and squishy.

Thank you.

Mr. Johansen, there was a homicide last night on the fifth floor.

We're investigating it.

Good for you.

Sir, a man was beaten to death with that oxygen t*nk.

Your oxygen t*nk.

What the hell are you talking about?!

Where were you last night between the hours of 1:00 and 3:00 a.m.?

[shouting] Where do you think I was?!

What is this, your first day with a new brain?

No.

I was here!

Hooked up to this damn machine.

Beep beep beep.

You see Dr. Scott, you tell him I want this thing unhooked.

It's driving me mental.

Who-- Who's Dr. Scott?

Dr. Davis Scott is taking out half my colon on Wednesday.

And he's the second-best surgeon in California.

And that's not my opinion. That's a fact.

Soft Serve, I know my rights.

And you people can't just waltz in here and--

[snoring]

Hey, Soft Serve, come here.

Crime Scene's on their way, and the floor is secure.

So what do you think?

Do you think somebody came in here, stole this guy's oxygen t*nk, and took it downstairs?

Why would they bring it back?

Why would they bring it back?

It's not possible.

Mr. Johansen never left his room.

He's been on the heart monitor all night.

Here's a cardiogram.

1:00 a.m. to 3:30. No gaps, no interruptions.

Actually, all we know for sure is that he never took the monitor off.

What if he took it with him?

Randy, please.

No, it's possible.

I mean, all he had to do was strap the monitor to his back.

And then climb out the window, shimmy down one story, unspooling 600 feet of wire along the way.

He's 82 years old.

He's a veteran.

They were the Greatest Generation.

You through?

(Monk) Miss... do you think Mr. Johansen could lift an oxygen t*nk?

It must weigh about 40 pounds.

You might want to ask his primary physician, Dr. Scott.

And where is he?

I know exactly where Dr. Scott is.

Room 694.

Down the hall, to the right. Follow the signs.

He's been there all day.

All day?

He's a patient in the cardio ward.

He admitted himself last night.

Thank you.

It's possible, though.

Well, sounds good, Davis.

You know, Dr. Scott, we could come back later, when you're feeling better.

No, I feel great.

This is just a precaution.

Last night I had a slight substernal chest pain.

I checked myself in, had them run a couple of tests.

Is everything okay?

Never felt better.

First good night's sleep I've had since med school.

You got lucky, Davis.

You gotta tap the brakes.

Thank you, Mother.

Do you seriously think Hank Johansen was involved with what happened last night?

Well, we're not sure.

I can't imagine how.

He has progressive rheumatoid arthritis in both legs.

So you don't think he could lift a 40-pound oxygen t*nk?

Hank Johansen?

He can't even put his own pants on.

And besides, isn't he hooked up to one of these?

I mean, you'd know if he left the room.

I heard it was somebody from the clinic.

A junkie.

Excuse me. Excuse me, Doctor.

Doctors.

Would you mind taking a look at this?

Have we met?

I'm sorry, this is Adrian Monk.

He's unofficially with us.

I see.

Well, it's not my specialty, but as long as I'm here.

You're a lucky man.

Most people have to wait three months for this consultation.

Thank you.

Bleeding on and off?

On and on.

Does this hurt? Yes, ow!

Ow, ow, ow!

I haven't done anything yet.

It was going to hurt.

I can tell.

Okay, I'm not going to touch you.

Relax.

Here's the thing.

I went to the emergency room--

Let me guess, they tried to cauterize it, and it didn't take. Exactly.

And there was this woman in the waiting room.

She said that her stepbrother--

Had the exact same symptom. Yes.

And now you've convinced yourself there's some kind of tumor.

You think it's a tumor? He said tumor.

He said the word "tumor."

You heard him. You heard him, and I knew it.

I knew it. I can feel it.

It's right back here.

It's like the size of a basketball.

For the love of God, can I get a room?

Monk, that's not what he meant.

Mr. Monk, you don't have a tumor.

Relax. Take a breath.

[breathes]

Now, these conditions often have psychological components.

Are you under a lot of stress?

I wouldn't say that. I would.

Mr. Monk, I have good news.

[whispering] You're not sick.

Really?

Mm-hmm.

You don't belong in a hospital.

You belong on a beach, with your feet up.

That's a lot of sand.

Get out of town tonight, lower the heart rate.

Doctor's orders.

Book two seats.

And, please, take him with you.

Okay, no signs of arrhythmia, so I'm kicking you out of here.

This bed is for sick people.

Thank you, Bradley. See you at 2:00.

Well, you're not still doing your rounds?

I have 18 patients in this joint a lot sicker than me.

Somebody's gotta be responsible.

Well, it's true what they say.

Doctors make the worst patients.

Good luck, gentlemen.

(Stottlemeyer) Thank you.

(Monk) Did you hurt yourself?

Oh, racquetball.

I missed the sh*t too.

That's what really hurt.

Is that talcum powder?

Yes.

And if you keep over-focusing, that nose is never gonna shut itself off.

I have powder on my hands all the time.

All doctors do. It's in the latex gloves.

Now, if you'll excuse me, gentlemen.

If you need me, give me a call.

Thank you.

I think he's right. It's all in your head.

Not all in my head anymore.

See?

Where's Natalie?

I gave her the day off.

That was nice of you.

Yeah, it was.

You were right. There's a motive.

Dr. Scott's being sued for malpractice.

The late Dr. Whitcomb was scheduled to testify against him.

Malpractice? Yeah, a year ago.

Scott lost a patient on the operating table.

Dr. Whitcomb claims-- or was about to claim-- that he saw Scott popping pills before the operation.

Amphetamines.

He would have lost his license.

(Monk) He did it.

Dr. Scott, he's the guy.

Was it the talcum powder?

The powder, plus the bruise on his leg.

It was still swollen.

Had to be less than a day old.

Well, that could have been from racquetball.

No, I don't think so.

I think he hit his leg on the coffee table in Dr. Whitcomb's office.

I hit it too.

Look.

See?

It's in the exact same spot.

And, Randy, you hit it. Remember?

Yeah.

Well, let's see it.

What are you doing?

Showing you the bruise. What's he doing?

It's near your ankle. Just pull up your pant leg.

Well, six of one, right?

It's not six of one. Roll up your pant leg.

I'm already unbuckled.

Would you! Okay, fine.

Ow!

See, Dr. Scott was in that office last night.

He was k*lling Dr. Whitcomb.

How?

(Randy) I mean, I talked to the security guard who was sitting in front of Dr. Scott's room.

He said no one went in or went out all night.

He did it.

Plus, he was hooked up to that heart monitor.

I don't know how he did it, but he did it.

He's the guy.

Nice and steady heartbeat all night long.

He never left his room.

First Mr. Johansen, now Dr. Scott.

Are you gonna want EKGs on all our patients?

No, ma'am, that will not be necessary.

Okay, all right, look.

Okay, all right, Captain.

Captain, Captain, Captain, listen.

I have an idea.

[whispering] Okay, Dr. Scott was hooked up to the heart monitor, right?

Yeah, that's right.

What if he took the monitor with him?

What if he hooked it up to a battery pack, and he just carried it with him?

The security guard said he never left the room.

Out the window. It's only one floor.

Interesting.

Interesting?

It's worth considering.

I said the exact same thing a half an hour ago about the old guy, and you sh*t me down.

You didn't say the same thing, Randy.

You said something about a spool of cable.

800 feet of cable--

It was the same basic idea, except for the battery.

The battery is a big part of what Monk is saying.

No, it's the same thing.

What, if I say something, it's a punch line, if he says it, he's a genius?

Would you explain to him what you mean about the battery?

All right, listen.

Okay, he's a doctor, right?

So, okay, the monitor-- the monitor--

Okay, I got nothin', all right?

Okay? We're both wrong.

All right, he couldn't have taken it with him.

But there's gotta be something else.

I'm sorry, Captain. It's this damn tumor.

I'm losing a lot of blood here.

Okay, let's move on.

Randy and I are gonna go down to security again, and review surveillance tapes.

What about me?

You're going home. What?!

Monk, maybe you're right.

Maybe the guy is the guy.

But he's also a doctor, and he gave you some very good advice.

You need to go home, you need to relax.

You need to turn your brain off.

Uh-uh, I can't.

I can't.

Go home.

Come on.

Something from the bar?

Oh, no, thanks.

What happened to your--

I slipped in the shower and sprained my wrist.

No big deal.

Oh, and they're making you work?

What was I gonna do?

They didn't have anybody to cover for me.

The boss is a pretty decent guy.

I didn't just want to leave him hanging.

I'll be back to check on you in a minute.

Taxi.

Hello, Shelly.

Dr. Scott. Did you miss me?

They told me you were sick.

Don't worry about me, darling.

I am the Rock of Gibraltar.

So are you. [chuckling]

I brought some friends with me.

The best and the brightest.

Or so I'm told.

Mr. Collins, you're up.

She's your patient.

What do you see?

Okay, rebound tenderness, lukocytosis--

Your diagnosis, Doctor.

Acute diverticulitis.

Congratulations, Mr. Collins, you just k*lled my favorite patient.

Mr. Collins has conveniently overlooked her persistent fever, and right lower-quadrant pain, indicating what?

Indicating what?!

Appendicitis.

We may have a doctor in the house after all.

Any questions?

Yes, I have a question.

Mr. Monk?

I thought I sent you home.

I had some unfinished business.

This is Mr. Adrian Monk.

He's with the police department.

I'm sure you all heard about what happened to Graydon Whitcomb?

Could you take a look at this, Doctor?

This is from an EKG.

Yes, I think I've seen one or two of these.

Well, this was from last night.

Midnight to 3:00 a.m.

There are some gaps here and here.

It looks like it was disconnected.

Eva, explain these gaps to Mr. Monk.

There are gaps like these in any EKG.

Anytime a patient rolls over or changes position.

Well, what about this one?

How long is this gap right here?

8 seconds, maybe ten.

10 seconds.

Not much help, is it?

What's going on?

It's almost too absurd.

You remember my patient Hank Johansen?

82 years old, osteoarthritis, kidney failure.

He is Detective Monk's number one suspect.

I think that may not be blood, Mr. Monk.

I think you may be losing cranial fluid.

[quiet chuckles]

Yeah, actually, I have a different suspect.

Well, that's a relief.

This one had a motive.

The victim was about to testify against him in a malpractice suit.

I hope your new suspect wasn't hooked up to a heart monitor too.

Because that would mean he couldn't possibly have done it.

Am I right?

It would also mean you're wasting my time.

Your time may not mean much, Mr. Monk, but my time in this hospital is a precious commodity.

Go bleed somewhere else.

Excuse me.

I'm out.

Oh, sorry.

Don't mind me.

There's a stain.

Yeah, there's a leak upstairs.

I saw the same stain in another room.

They're probably connected, or used to be.

A lot of these rooms were divided up a few years back.

Not my problem, that's all I know.

[snap]

Soft Serve!

What the hell are you doing in my closet?!

Uh--

How long you been in there?!

That's it.

After my operation, it's go time.

In the parking lot, you and me.

Mr. Johansen, who assigned you to this room?

None of your damn business, you moron.

Now, where's my wallet?

What did you do with my wallet?

Sir, please!

This is very important.

I am investigating a homicide here.

If you touched my wallet, so help me, God, you're gonna be bleeding from more than your nose.

It was Dr. Scott, wasn't it?

As a matter of fact it was.

There was a waiting list, and he had to pull a lot of strings to get me in here.

Oh, there it is.

12, 13, 14.

Okay.

You're a lucky son of a bitch.

Mr. Johansen, listen to me!

Dr. Scott k*lled Dr. Whitcomb.

And I know how he did it.

(Monk) He checked himself in as a patient.

He knew this hospital.

He knew there had been a renovation.

So he made sure that at one time, his room was connected to your room.

At about 2:00, he made his move.

He came in here through the supply closet.

He knew you'd be sleeping.

He probably prescribed your sedatives.

(Johansen) As a matter of fact, he did.

(Monk) Then he put his monitor on your chest.

He took the oxygen t*nk, and then he went downstairs.

After the m*rder, he came back here, put his monitor back on, and snuck back into his room.

It was perfect.

Your heartbeat was his alibi.

So, what do you think?

I'll tell you what I think.

I owe you an apology.

Really?

Yeah, that would explain everything.

Yes.

You know, you really are a great detective.

But I need proof.

Yeah, that's the thing. You need proof.

Yeah.

I've got it.

I've got it.

Okay, if I'm right, which, you know, I am, for about ten minutes, during the m*rder, your heartbeat, and Dr. Scott's heartbeat, are the exact same heartbeat.

All I have to do is find those cardiograms.

Yeah. Good thinking.

You better go. It's very exciting.

Yeah.

I better use the door.

Dr. Scott, please.

Yes, it's very important.

Dr. Scott, this is Hank Johansen.

You know that wack-job detective Adrian Monk?

[chuckles] Yeah.

He just jumped out of my closet, screaming that you had k*lled some guy with my oxygen t*nk.

[laughs]

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know.

You better do something before he hurts somebody.

Yeah.

Yeah, yeah, I know exactly where he is.

So the judge is laughing, half the jury's laughing, and I look down--

I'm still wearing my slippers.

Oh. Did you win the case?

Yeah.

And now they're my lucky slippers.

I keep 'em in my briefcase.

(man) Clara?

(Clara) Don't worry, I got you.

(man) I didn't know where you were.

(Clara) It's okay.

I'm right here.

I wouldn't just walk away.

You know me better than that.

[sighs]

Alex, I'm so sorry.

You are so great, but I have to go.

You're leaving?

My boss needs me.

Uh, how do you know.?

He always needs me. I'm sorry.

[fly buzzing]

[fly buzzing closer]

[fly buzzing]

[bed motor clicks on]

You said you wanted to be admitted.

Your prayers have been answered, Mr. Monk.

No, you can't speak or move.

Don't even try.

You're literally wasting your breath.

I've injected 3ccs of tribusonol into your larynx.

Do you have any idea what I do here every day?

How many lives these hands have saved?

How many lives they will save?

Hundreds, thousands.

That's my mission.

It's why I'm here.

I am the miracle man.

Do you think I would let you, former-Detective Monk, or Dr. Graydon Whitcomb-- or anyone-- stop me?

Oh, by the way, I have some good news for you.

I stopped that pesky nosebleed.

[garbled mutter] You're welcome.

I have some other news, not quite so good.

You had an accident.

At least, that's what your chart says.

You were in a stairwell, you tripped.

You suffered a concussion.

Possible nerve damage, multiple fractures.

Ah, it gets worse.

I don't know how this happened.

The name on this chart is Dale Butterworth.

In four minutes, the day nurse-- who is new to this floor-- is going to walk in, read this chart, and administer a massive dose if intravenous tetracycline.

Yes, I know about your allergy.

Unfortunately, mistakes like this... happen all the time.

[man over P.A.] Lupe to ICU, please.

Lupe, ICU.

Hi.

Excuse me, I was looking for Adrian Monk.

He was sitting right over there.

He's been admitted.

He's been admitted? Mm-hmm.

He's in Intensive Care.

For a nosebleed?

[knocks]

Mr. Monk?

My God.

Oh, my God, Mr. Monk, I'm so sorry.

I can't believe this. What happened?

They said you fell down the stairs?

Mm--

Oh, it's all right. I'm here.

I'll take good care of you, okay?

Oh...

Hi. How's he doing today?

I don't know. I just got here.

(nurse) Are you his wife?

No, I'm his assistant.

And his friend.

I think he's in a lot of pain.

He's not very good with pain.

Okay, well, this should help.

[strained attempts at speech]

(whispering) What?

(barely audible) Dr. Scott...

Dr.-- Dr. Scott?

(nurse) That's his primary.

You're very lucky. Dr. Scott's the greatest.

Did you hear that? You have a great doctor.

Unh.

It's okay. It's okay.

It's okay, it's okay. Just relax, I've got you.

Give me your hand. There you go, just relax.

He should have some ice chips.

Okay, I'll get them.

It's okay.

Mr. Monk, I just want to tell you that I'm so sorry for leaving you here this morning.

It will never happen again.

If you are ever in trouble, I will be there for you, I promise.

Okay, let go.

Let go. Let go.

I'll be right back.

(Natalie) Nurse, excuse me.

I just want to thank you for being so sweet to him.

But I wanted to ask you, do you have the kind of ice maker that makes round ice cubes?

Because he'd prefer that.

(nurse) We might.

So how long have you worked for Mr. Butterworth?

Who's Mr. Butterworth?

Oh, God.

[breathless] It's okay.

Take it easy. Take is easy.

One step at a time.

There you go. There you go.

You're--you're scraping the bag now.

Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry.

(Stottlemeyer) It's a perfect match.

I'd like to see him try to explain this to a jury.

It was my idea.

No, it's not, Randy. It's completely different.

No, it was the same basic idea.

Our next crime scene, I'm not gonna say anything.

I'm just gonna write everything down and copyright it.

Yeah, you copyright everything in your notebook.

Maybe I will.

Ow!

Son of a preacher man!

Oh, God, you okay? That's bleeding.

You want to go back inside?

No, no, no, I'm fine. Let's just go.

(Natalie) Mr. Monk, it could get infected.

Maybe we should just go back in there. No.

Natalie, no.

Can't do running into the E.R. about every little thing.

Let's just go. Let's go.

Come on, let's go home.

[door slams] (Monk) Ow!

Ow.