It's pointed out to Malarkey that baby Adam's sats are dropping, because Malarkey wouldn't recognize dropping sats if they were plunging down a buxom neckline. He does realize, because he has eyes, that the baby isn't moving air, and must therefore be having trouble either breathing or securing a U-Haul. He demands a blade. "You're going to intubate?" gapes Neela. Naturally, Paula panics again as Neela tries to cover for her shock by calmly explaining what that means. Clearing her throat, Neela wonders if perhaps they should fetch Luka.
Outside, Luka snipes away to Weaver about scheduling and the like until Chuny yells, "Luka, the R2 is intubating!" Rolling his eyes, Luka hangs up the phone and charges into Trauma Yellow. "Stop," he says calmly. Then, more forcefully: "STOP." He explains through clenched teeth that the correct procedure is to bag the baby, and it took me several tries with that sentence before realizing that there's no way to avoid the unfortunate other connotations to the phrase "Bag the baby." With grace, Susan escorts a reluctant Paula and her other son, Henry, outside. "Sedated babies get bagged," Luka says firmly. "I thought the airway...." Malarkey begins. "I know what you thought," Luka snaps curtly. Malarkey gulps and shits a bereavement room for the Archie Malarkey Funeral Home: He Kills 'Em And Grills 'Em.
Paula dazedly, and with wild, wet eyes, babbles to Susan that Henry's school had a barbecue and they were late. "We forgot to pick up the hot dogs," Henry says very carefully. This wooden-ness piques Susan's interest, and she punts him to the vending-machine area so that she can probe crazy Paula. "My therapist prescribed Zoloft," Paula sniffles. "Maybe I'm...not reacting well to it?" Susan frowns. "Zoloft?" she asks. Yes, Zoloft: The Antidepressant For People Who Drop Babies. Paula chokes that she's been really down, and bitterly exposits that her husband is divorcing her and suing for custody. "We're together for twelve years and suddenly he wakes up hating me. I don't know what happened," she wails. Perhaps if she started using anti-frizz...? Susan gently apologizes for her next question, and then asks if Paula has been drinking. "No!" Paula gapes, completely unconvincingly. "I can smell it on your breath," Susan counters.