Mark stands at a wooden podium and fields questions from an audience of doctors, each of them trying to dissect the night of Fossen's death. A Dr. Zogoiby wonders why lidocaine wasn't administered, and Mark shakily states he didn't have the ACLS drug box with him and had sent a nurse to fetch it when the doors closed unexpectedly and the dog ate his English paper. As Mark's methods come under scrituny, Kerry zones out completely, focusing on the back of Romano's bald head and recalling the time he discussed Legaspi's lesbianism with her. Voice-over comments swirl in her mind, each one referring to her inner turmoil and struggle to cope with homosexuality. A giant vagina drops from the sky and bleats, "Loooove meeee!" as Kerry's internal Legaspi Quote Generator produces the words, "Deal with the stigma of being gay!" Dr. Anspaugh barks, "Care to comment on that?" Kerry jumps in her seat. Everyone is staring at her. "Dr. Weaver, in your opinion, was the patient's care at all compromised?" he asks, sternly. Kerry fumbles. "Did the ER accept too many patients that day?" presses Anspaugh. A flummoxed Weaver stammers that she recalls things being busy, but manageably so and aptly handled. Anspaugh nods grimly.
Kerry charges out of the room and into the hall, when she almost runs into a rolling gurney. "Watch your back," the medic says presciently, for at that second, Dr. "Everybody Loves Ray" Romano appears behind her and it seems his fangs are bared. He sweetly asks, "Kerry, are you under the weather?" It appears he noticed her lagging mental perception. She unconvincingly blames it on jet lag. "Oh, yes, a trip to Africa, was it? Spontaneous decision. Doesn't seem like you," he smarms. Kerry looks like every muscle in her body is rigid. Through gritted teeth, she monotones that her accrued vacation was about to expire so she decided to burn it. Romano insists that she gave insufficient warning, so Weaver flatly states she might take her remaining nineteen days sometime soon. "Might want to try Papua New Guinea for your next adventure," Romano oozes. "I hear they put gourds on their penises." I could be wrong, but I could swear he's implying she needs a good, vigorous lay with an oversized man-tool -- but it's unclear where he gets off saying that, because if anyone needs to blow off some...er...steam, it's Romano.
As the elevator door closes on Romano's inane comment, Kerry jams her cane into the gap and blocks it, struggling through the tiny space and looking unfortunately frail in doing so. Romano -- boo, hisss! -- smoothly drenches his voice in saccharine concern and says, "Careful...you know you can just call my office; you don't have to go beating up the elevator." Weaver demands to know whom he told. "About what?" he asks. "About what we discussed," she replies, edgily. Romano plays dumb and insists that he eased up on Legaspi, but that she decided County General wasn't friendly to her and relocated to San Francisco. "Go figure," he adds, almost as an afterthought. Weaver's agitation grows with every reinforcement of his dense façade, until she finally blurts, "Have you told anyone that I'm a lesbian?" Romano stares at her. "Oh, uh, no," he answers. "I mean, if you want to tell anyone, that's your business, but I don't see how a person's sexual affairs are appropriate for workplace conversation, do you, Kerry?" She looks at him in silence, then mutters, "No." Romano pointedly adds, "Then we're on the same page," and breezes past her, his words laced with a decidedly don't-ask-don't-tell vibe. Kerry zones out one last time, wondering what her moment of honesty has wrought.