The Doctor

So how'd it go last night?

Oh, no!

- Would you hand me that?

- Nice gloves. Are they new?

What do you got when you

have a lawyer up to his neck in cement?

- Your boyfriend out of jail yet?

- Not yet.

Jack, one guess.

Four Seasons. That's easy.

What's the flip side?

Flip side? Flip side.

What is the flip side?

Oh, sh*t, now my whole day's ruined.

Is everything laid out?

Everything you like.

Oh, these are my favorites.

- What's the story on our friend?

- He jumped, five floors.

Oh, good grief.

What do you want on this?

Pickle, lettuce, tomato? Onion?

What do you want?

Want a coke? No coke?

No, use more Betadine, sweetheart.

He needs the color.

Let's go, Jack. I'm having trouble

keeping his pressure up.

Just splash and slash.

You know, Murray, they ought

to teach a course in suicide technique.

I mean, five floors

is just not good enough.

People use the wrong knife,

can't tie a decent knot. It's terrible.

Nancy, when are you gonna run away

with me? I'm desperate.

I can't eat. I can't sleep.

OK. Blade.

I'm going right in.

We'll tidy up on the way out.

Oh, look at that. You made him bleed.

Retractor.

- Oh, boy, he's a gusher.

- I hate blood.

Cell-saver suction. Malleable, Nancy.

The BP's dropping all the time.

I can't keep up with his loss.

This guy's aorta is in big trouble.

Cut down on the ventilation, Joe.

- Move the lung out of the way.

- OK, I'm hand-ventilating.

Oh, sh*t.

The aorta's completely transected.

- What do you wanna do?

- Turn off the music.

Clamp and run.

Give me a 20-millimeter Dacron graft.

On my way.

Clamp? Thank you.

- We need some over here.

- I'm getting in a clamp above.

- Snap!

- Clamp. I'm getting in a clamp below...

- I got it, I got it.

- Start the clock!

OK. Take this, will you?

Get it. Take it out.

Graft.

I got it.

- 4-0 Prolene, let's go!

- 4-0 Prolene, Doctor.

- Give him more blood, Joe.

- He's got all we had. We sent for more.

Knit one.

He's 60 over zip.

But we still have a cardiac rhythm.

Not for long.

- Nancy, are my hands shaking?

- No, Doctor.

That's amazing.

I always tremble when you're near.

You've got about three minutes, Jack,

and then he's in big trouble.

What's the difference between a...

Nancy, if you know this one,

don't say anything.

What's the difference between

a lawyer and a catfish?

- You know?

- No idea.

One is a scum-sucking bottom dweller...

and the other one's a fish.

- Right over left and under.

- Left over right and under.

Good scout.

OK, here we go. I'm going

to unclamp slowly. Watch the BP.

- Clamp.

- Easy.

- Off.

- No leaks. We made it.

Looks beautiful.

Ooo-wee!

Let's pack our bags, guys,

and go home. Closing music, Joe.

Oh, that was great, everybody.

And, Nancy, I wanna hear you sing.

Sure, Doctor.

Nancy, you're not singing, doll.

One day, Nancy, one day before I die,

you're gonna sing for me.

Doctor, please.

Sing it. Sing it, buddy! You're gonna

be OK. What's this kid's name?

Sing it, Nancy, baby.

Dr. MacKee? Dr. Blumfield

would like you to stop by OR 2

and take a look at his patient.

- Wow. Where ENT meets ESP.

- Rabbi calls. Go take a look.

- The spirits wait.

- Will you finish up here?

My pleasure. Don't forget your crystals.

Or a Ouija board.

Jack, you throw the wildest parties.

Come on, little doggie.

Come on, fella, wake this kid up.

Have him join us.

When that boy wakes up, tell him,

next time, ten floors minimum.

- Reach for the sky!

- Look out!

You hear that, boy?

That was Dr. Jack MacKee.

- I need a gown.

- Here you go.

Here, Doctor.

Thank you for coming, Doctor.

I've got a rigid bronchoscopy, and...

I'd like you to take a look. I think I found

a lesion in the right main bronchus.

- He's under for another 20?

- Mm-hmm.

Sergio, this is Dr. MacKee.

He's an expert in heart and lungs.

And I'd like him to check you out.

There's nothing to be nervous about.

Hi, Serge. How's it hanging?

I gotta tell ya, if you can hear me,

I'd fire the anesthesiologist.

Dr. MacKee likes to joke.

Doesn't mean he's not caring,

that's just his way. He's a fine doctor.

Mm-hmm. Oh, yeah.

- Blumfield's amazing.

- Yeah. He published a paper:

"Dialogue With Unconscious Patients".

Personally I keep it under my pillow.

But this guy really believes

that they hear us.

- I talk to you.

- But I pretend I'm conscious.

- You eating?

- I don't know. I have some chores.

What is it with this throat thing, huh?

You know, Pete wants to do a bypass

on that short order cook.

What's his name? Such a stupid name.

Heart the size of Pennsylvania.

He's 65, he's 250 pounds, he had

a stroke, smokes two packs a day...

Sounds in pretty good shape.

So the guy crumps in six months

and it shows on our survival stats. Hi.

Hi.

- Hello, Doctor.

- Sarah.

See you later.

You hunk.

- Ta-ta.

- Toodle-oo.

Aaah.

- How long have you had this throat?

- All my life.

I don't know. A couple of... A little while.

I can't really see anything.

A little swelling, some inflammation.

Nothing to really worry about.

Are you steaming or what?

What?

- No, nothing.

- No, nothing.

No wonder you still got a tickle.

What are you doing wasting my time?

- I'm married to a doctor's wife.

- You too, huh?

- Should I be referring you to someone?

- No.

You're right. I should be steaming.

I'll write you a note for some antibiotics.

Better I should write to Anne,

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