Mark wanders down the hall to Elizabeth, who is examining some x-rays on a light box. He leans his penis-head tentatively between her and the films and says, "Hey." She tells him, "It's safe; I've had my coffee." ["Dr. Corday, c'est moi." -- Sars] Mark suggests a date tonight, and she says, "Sure, as long as it's at my place." Mark says he was thinking of going out, and she reminds him that they're going out on Friday. They can't go out more than once a week? He tells her he "moved up the reservation." She: what reservation? He: it's a surprise. She: I'm fine, I just had an episode. He: I know, I'm used to it. Uh. "I'm used to it"? Not, "No you didn't, and anyway you had every right to be angry"? Good luck getting some ever again, doofus. Elizabeth looks affronted at his response, and he tells her it's at six o'clock, and that he thinks she'll like the place. She recovers and tells him that his patient has an abscess around L-4 and L-5. He accuses her of poaching his patients. Whatever.

Luka carefully sets his scythe against the wall and tells Mrs. Glenda, "There can be some improvement in the first twenty-four hours after a stroke, but in Glenda's case, I'm afraid there's too much brain damage." "So she'll never recover," Mrs. Glenda concludes. "Maybe slightly," Luka starts to reply, until some random nurse runs in to say that Glenda's sats are dropping. Weaver's in working on her when Luka arrives. He takes over orders and gives Weaver Glenda's vital statistics. Weaver gently tells Glenda that they may have to intubate her to help her breathe. Glenda mumbles a response, and Weaver asks, "Do you know where you are?" The same random nurse tells Weaver that Psych saw Glenda, and that the note says she's not competent. Mrs. Glenda interjects, "I think she's just confused." Weaver asks Mrs. Glenda whether Glenda has a DNR order, and Mrs. Glenda says, "I don't think she'd want to be put on a ventilator, if that's what you're asking." Weaver curtly asks, "Are you a family member?" Glenda starts to answer, but Luka interrupts, "No, she's her...they're together." Weaver takes this in, and then asks Mrs. Glenda whether she has power of attorney. Mrs. Glenda, getting flustered because she sees where this is going, replies, "No. I guess I should, but we didn't do that." Conni says Glenda's sats are climbing, and Luka orders that they keep her on fifteen litres by mask. "She's okay?" Mrs. Glenda asks anxiously. Weaver explains, "For now, but if the pneumonia progresses, we'll have to intubate her, unless a family member directs us not to." "Or a spouse," Mrs. Glenda offers, hopefully. Weaver agrees, kind of: "One recognized by law." D'oh! Damn homophobes in Washington. Or Illinois. Well, everywhere, really. Luka glances at Weaver, then looks back down at Glenda. Mrs. Glenda breathes, "Can you do it by phone?" Weaver says they can, if Mrs. Glenda can verify an out-of-town relative. Disheartened, Mrs. Glenda says that Glenda has a brother in Houston.