Amy Pietz moans. "Sorry," Abby says. She's gone ahead and done the pelvic on her own. Ruefully, Abby tells Amy that the bleeding is more than she expected, and that Amy's cervix is open. "Meaning?" Amy asks. "You can't maintain a pregnancy," Abby says. Amy starts moaning that she knew it, she just knew it, and they've been trying to hard to get pregnant, and...as Amy passes out, we realize we've come to a crossroads. Either Amy's uterus is totally hosed, or there'll be an ER Thanksgiving miracle and Abby will find a secret fetus tucked away up there. Abby notices that Amy's stopped talking, and pokes her head out from between Amy's legs. Hurriedly, Abby rips off her gloves, which, despite having come from the hemorrhaging birth canal of a miscarrying woman, are spotless and new. Apparently Amy's fallopian tubes also produce Soft Soap. Abby punches the call button and orders Frank to find her some help because Amy's bleeding out and it might be handy to find someone who could stem the tide before her antiseptic bodily fluids disinfect the entire room and leave it smelling like winter pine. Abby works away, lonely, and then looks up and plaintively shouts at the window, "I could use a little help here!"
Sam treats Westbrook as he wakes up in Trauma Yellow. "You're at County," she tells him. "You got clipped by a tow truck." Elizabeth orders him not to move his leg. Westbrook announces that he's going to call his lawyer, because he'd rather get treated anywhere than County, what with the assholes and the promise of people's stray hairs drifting into his body cavities. Elizabeth warns him that he's bleeding internally, but basically Westbrook would rather die than lie down for any of the doctors at this place, ostensibly because he hasn't met Luka yet. Pratt angrily orders Westbrook not to use his cell phone, but Westbrook persists, so Pratt snatches it out of his hand and slams it down onto the instrument tray.
Cue Romano. He glides in on an oil slick of his own greasy sycophantism, telling Westbrook that they'll basically do whatever he wants them to do, and Pratt will be disciplined for stealing his mobile, and if he needs any massages or blowjobs or a toupee made of Sam's unkempt locks, well, they'll make it all work. Elizabeth shoots him a glare and then announces that they're taking Westbrook up to CT. "After a few tests, we'll work on a transfer," he says. "You're in excellent hands with Dr. Corday. Believe me, I envy you." Well, maybe Romano needs a different approach, then. He should try telling Elizabeth that he has life-threatening internal bleeding...in his penis.