Elizabeth "Anarchy From The UK" Corday goes into the lounge to find Carol crying. She asks, "Are you all right?" "I'm fine," Carol snuffles, and Elizabeth says she doesn't look fine, and Carol sobs, "I am really fine," and fiddles with a snot-soaked Kleenex. Elizabeth joins the rest of North America in asking, "Why don't you just leave?" Alas, Carol says no, she'll just sit there "and have a good cry, and then I'm gonna feel better. That's what I do at home." Elizabeth looks concerned as the mantle of post-partum depression weighs on Carol like, say, an anvil. Not that I'd know anything about that. Carol honks into the ratty Kleenex. Elizabeth comes around the table and pats Carol's head, and Carol thanks her, and just then Chuny comes in and says, "Carol, are you okay?" and Carol sobs afresh, "Ohhhh, I'm fine!" Elizabeth murmurs to Chuny that Carol feels "a little overwhelmed," and they whisper to each other about all the horrors Carol must have to face, what with the diapers and the dishes and the feedings and the crying and then having to come in and work a twelve-hour shift, and Carol can clearly hear them, and as Chuny cluck-clucks about whether Carol can "stay focused with the patients," Carol sits up with a "hey, quit it" look on her face, and just then Elizabeth finishes dismissively, "All she wants to think about are her babies." The two of them turn around from the coffee machine to see Carol staring at them miserably, and they walk over to the table and Elizabeth says, "Carol -- if there's anything we can do --" and Carol nods bleakly and squeaks out, "Thanks," before bursting into tears again. I still can't figure out whether they wanted her to overhear them in order to snap her out of her mood, or whether they just didn't care enough to keep their voices down. Frankly, I don't care much myself. Nnnnnnnext!

Lucy and Valerie. Valerie expresses confusion over whether she gets the heart or not. Lucy explains the type of infection Valerie has and says they can probably get it cleared up with antibiotics and still go ahead with the transplant. Valerie asks what happens if the antibiotics don't work. Lucy says worst case, Valerie gets a life-threatening infection post-op. Valerie sighs and thinks for a moment, then asks Lucy what she would do. "It's your decision, Valerie," Lucy tells her, but Valerie doesn't want the buck and passes it back: "I know, but would you have the surgery?" After a short pause, Lucy nods, saying, "The risk is small, and you've waited a long time. I would go for it," and as soon as she utters those words, a guy in a FedEx uniform walks in and says, "Dramatic-Irony Death Warrant -- could you sign here, please?"