Opera music swells; it's a maudlin Insurrection Aria to back up Ya-Ya's defiance of the law and Carter's defiance of red tape. Ya-Ya stares at her son, whose machinery's every beep pierces her heart.
Bay of Rigs. "So you quit, go outside, and pout?" Susan gapes. Carter insists there's too many patients, too few beds, an overwhelmed staff, and an insecure ER. "Newsflash: The health-care system sucks!" Susan says, exasperated. "Our job is to treat people in spite of it." Carter refuses. He can't do it. "And I don't expect you or anyone else here not to" -- except Gallant, apparently -- "but I can't do it," Carter nods firmly.
Divine Intervention of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. She stares at Phillip's tubes, and then slowly turns to stare at his machinery. Something dawns on her, and I think it's mischief time.
Bay of Rigs. Carter points out that they've already had one staff member murdered on duty, and nothing happened after that to protect the place. Finally, we're getting to the meat of it, which is that Carter's personal security has been most compromised at County General, so of course this is deeply personal for him and he's acting out of the same old fear. Which makes sense. "I'm trying to save the people that roll in here tomorrow," Carter points out. "I know, Carter, but you're an emergency-room doctor, and it's about getting through the shift," Susan points out. Carter tries to regale her with stats about how many guns and knives sneak into the ER every year, and he reaches for his Uprising 2002 notepad as if he has those numbers written there.
Divine Intervention of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. As if possessed of an otherworldly calm, Ya-Ya slowly turns to her left and flips the switch, shutting down the equipment that was keeping Phillip alive. Slowly, she puts her head on his hands and exhales with a mixture of peace and agony.
Susan finally snaps and reminds Carter that people are depending on them today, right this second. "I got stabbed, Lucy got killed, and today, Abby and Chen got a gun to their heads," Carter finally shouts. "I'm sorry, no, it's gotta stop. Otherwise, it's not worth doing." Unless you're, you know, selfless, and you wake up and realize that you're at an inner-city hospital that's a likely target for miscreants and dangerous people. I can see his point, but I think he's got blinders on, too. Susan stands up, frustrated. "Fine, you know what? You fix tomorrow," she seethes. "I have to go treat the patients that need us today." Good scene for both of them, and the first time I've championed Susan's cause in a long while.