County. Robert "Rocket" Romano barges in on the cath lab and asks what's going on. Luka and Kayson recap the situation for him (coronary thrombosis is apparently a new wrinkle on Dan's chart). Romano asks why he wasn't consulted, and why Dan wasn't admitted to some study. Kayson says that Dan didn't meet the study's criteria, and Romano shoots back, "I decide who meets the criteria." Dan, overhearing, sputters, "What? You mean I didn't have to have this?" Romano snaps, "If you'd been on a low-fat diet, you wouldn't have to have any of this." Something starts beeping urgently, and Kayson exposits that there's a dissection in the left vein. The Timpani of Impending Doom thrums on the soundtrack as Dan quavers, "What -- what, what, what's wrong? What happened?" Luka tells him that the catheter "made a small tear in [Dan's] blood vessel." Dan's blood pressure starts to drop, things start peeping and booping, staff spring into action, and Romano, in a bored tone, declares that Dan is "a surgical patient now." Luka yells for someone to notify the OR. Dan asks what happened, and Romano -- presumably into the DanCam, though he's not looking directly into it, which makes me wonder if Paul McCrane is taking this opportunity to show that Romano doesn't look his patients in the eye -- tells Dan that he's experienced a complication, and that the only way to save him now is with bypass surgery. "Open-heart surgery?" Dan squeaks; Romano confirms that he is correct, and moves to anaesthetize him. Dan protests, "Can't we talk about this?" No, they can't. And this is, I think, about as good a time as any to say that you wouldn't think someone could overact when he's doing nothing but lying flat on his back. But you would be wrong. Jim Belushi has proven that to me.
New York. Elizabeth dozes sitting up beside Mark's bed; Mark feebly coughs a couple of times, waking Elizabeth and drawing Dr. Burke over to the bed. Dr. Burke says that there is no post-op bleeding, but that "the steroids made [him] a little crazy." As Elizabeth places his glasses on his face, Mark asks what he said. "I've heard much worse" is Dr. Burke's non-answer. He makes to leave, and Elizabeth skips off after him, leaving Mark to look over at Blue Lips, lying in bed. As soon as Mark directs his attention to him, something attached to Blue Lips starts filling with blood; Mark tries to call someone to attend to Blue Lips, but he's too feeble. Presently, the machines attached to Blue Lips start making angry noises, and a bunch of nurses and a doctor swarm him. Wire cutters are involved. Ech. Mark watches, dismayed, until Elizabeth pulls the curtain around Blue Lips. Okay, but could you at least hook Mark up with a TV? The latest InStyle? He's bored!