In the morgue surgery room, Wendell says that Mike is a "lucky dog" because he stopped bleeding. Williams asks for some appropriate music and we get a dog tune. Cute. A doctor who looks like a young Orville Redenbacher comes in asking about some livers he's supposed to pick up. Everybody hides. The doctor sneezes, which he attributes to a dog-hair allergy. Hey, what are the chances? He leaves, sneezing some more, while Wendell wonders how he got mixed up in such an oddball hospital. Wendell brings his co-conspirators out of hiding and immediately gets a call to pick up a body. "Looks like we just got a room," Williams says, so they can store the recuperating doggie.
We go to the locker room where Weiss and Turner start chatting it up about Papa Patterson. Through this scene, Blair Underwood as Turner is engaging in what the professionals call "stage business." In this case, he's putting on a contact lens and talking at the same time. He is muy talentoso, as we Latinos like to say. Weiss explains the Patterson situation in exasperated, breathless sentences. Turner says, "Whatever it is, it's not about the medicine." Yeah, we already got that: It's about Patterson's penis. Turner offers to talk to the man. Weiss thanks Turner for that. Wait, I thought Patterson doesn't like black doctors. How is this going to help at all? Where is the logic in this show? My world is crumbling! Somebody stop it!
I mention to my guest Heather/Heathen (who writes the Making the Band recaps) that next week they're showing back-to-back Tuesday and Wednesday episodes of City of Angels. She wails, "What is wrong with the world!?"
Back in the unplanned pregnancy ward, Cheron's mom is angry that she didn't even know her daughter was pregnant. "It's hard to tell with the baggy clothes they wear," Price offers as an explanation. The mother, who is in tears, says she already has three mouths to feed and doesn't want another. Cheron says she can raise the baby herself. Price says she can help them get into a "program," which sounds like a euphemism for something involving loads of paperwork. Cheron's mom says, "Thirty-one years old and a grandma." I do some mental calculating and then I say, loudly, "Whoa!" The women in this family are nothing if not fertile at young ages. The new grandma gets up to leave, but Price stops her, saying it doesn't make sense to put the child into foster care if there's a family. The mother gets righteous: She says she has two jobs and makes about $962 a month. $750 goes to rent and the rest is for feeding and clothing her kids. "How much do you make, $100,000, $150,000 a year?" Price looks away guiltily. I whip out my mental calculator again and say, "Damn!" Cheron says she again she can do it. The grandma tells her she can't take care of a parakeet, let alone a baby. How about a wounded dog? Grandma leaves in a huff, saying for all she cares the baby can go to a foster home or be put up for adoption. Price looks conflicted or constipated -- definitely one of the two.