An ambulance arrives. "This is how you choose to solve the problem?" Weaver is saying to Carter. A paramedic ducks out of the rig and asks what the commotion is about; he's got a sixty-two-year-old man who needs treatment. Gallant approaches the rig to attend to the patient; Weaver and Carter simultaneously threaten him, with Weaver pointing out that Gallant's a mere student and can't get fired, but he can be failed. Gallant stares at both of them for a second, then slowly backs away from the patient. Irate, Weaver grabs the old man and wheels him inside. Slowly, Gallant walks over to the assembled group, and Pratt flashes him a really cocky, condescendingly proud smile. Poor Gallant. It's so unfair of Carter to force him to join their walk-out; that's where I really took issue with Carter, because even if he didn't want it to get this far, he really embraced it and shouldn't have been forcing his politics on a med student who's just trying to learn the craft. Weaver shouldn't have threatened him, either, though; I'm betting he might've stayed inside if she hadn't gotten all haughty with him. Gallant looks really conflicted.
Susan checks in on Ya-Ya and her son. She informs her that it'll be a few hours before Phillip can get up to the OR, and he's pumped full of as much pain medicine as his blood pressure can handle. Basically, she's done all she can for now. "Do you know what it's like to watch someone die for twenty-five years?" Ya-Ya scenery-chews. "That's what I did with his father every day. I loved the man, but I hated what it did to him." She continues to wax rhapsodic about Phillip's voice -- he was an opera singer, but the disease hamstrung the flights of angels that would pour out of his throat when he trilled. "When he got to be twenty-nine, I thought, My God, maybe we got lucky," Ya-Ya says, her voice thick with anguish. "Then he started having trouble at work...and when he'd talk, sometimes it was hard to understand." Susan stares at Phillip's motionless, tubed body. "It just takes everything away," Ya-Ya weeps. "Everything."
Abby perches boredly on an idle ambulance while Carter sits inside, jotting down notes on his Power To the People notepad. She cracks that she needs to borrow paper to start working on her résumé; Carter laughs and says she'll be just fine. "I know," Abby nods. "Usually they decapitate the leaders of the insurrection and send the peasants back to work tending the fields." Carter laughs at this, too. Suddenly, Susan stalks up to the ambulance. "What took you so long?" Carter sasses. She completely ignores him and tells Abby she needs a repeat blood gas on Phillip. "We're staging a walk-out," Carter says importantly. "Yeah, I get that," spits Susan, turning back to Abby and asking her for more help. "I have ten patients on monitored beds that no one is watching," she says urgently. "Maybe someone will pay attention," Carter says immaturely. What a dick.