Back to the frail blonde, who we'll call Scarecrow, because she kind of looks like one. She babbles that she fell hard on her ass in the shower. Susan sprints inside apologizing all over the place for being late. Carter gifts her with Scarecrow and says he'll call it even -- you know, I never will get why he is allowed to act like the boss of everyone. That whole void-filling thing isn't good enough for me. Almost as an afterthought, Carter congratulates her on the wedding. Susan rolls her eyes.
Romano's patient -- a boy we'll call Sue because I just watched Swingers -- has asthma. He's an old hand at ER treatment, it seems. "What happened to your arm?" he asks. "None of your beeswax," Romano snaps. Finally, he's found his emotional equal. Romano hails Abby and asks what they prescribe for soft asthma. "You're asking a nurse?" she gapes playfully. The boy knows exactly what he needs, so Romano parrots Sue's analysis of the situation and stands up triumphantly. "That took all of eight minutes! See, people, it can be done!" he shouts.
Luka passes Abby. "What [can be done]?" he asks. "BSing your way through a shift, I suppose," she says tiredly. See, that makes me sad. I really do like to think that Romano has more regard for patients than that -- I mean, I know he respects lawsuits more than that. Luka politely apologizes for the elevator moment. "I didn't mean to be nosy," he says. "I was just making little talk." Abby meets his gaze with a smile. "'Small talk,'" she corrects him. Luka grins back at her. Chuny calls them into Mr. Rushing's room because he's regaining consciousness; when they arrive at his side, the man deliriously asks where his children are. "We were driving...I walked to get help," he mutters. "Oh my God," Abby breathes. The Music of Young Lives Are At Stake kicks in as Luka orders her to get the police and sets his jaw in a very concerned and authoritative manner, so that we know he takes children seriously.
Carter is putting Debra through the CT machine, casually asking how long she's been married. "Two years," she says. "Some people say the age difference is a problem, but I can't keep up with him." She seems nervous about the machine, so Carter promises that they'll minimize her exposure to protect the baby. "Our little accident," she smiles tightly. Carter sends her into the machine, and he and the technician check out her results. The tech whistles at the level of corrosion of her kidney. "She'll need a nephrectomy," Carter says sadly. "Yeah, like, now," the tech snorts. "I guess Romano was right about one thing today," Carter murmurs. We fade to black knowing he's right -- they all should wear tighter scrubs.