In the hall, Corday informs Romano that it's Peter's nephew "in there." Romano doesn't even feign concern, saying that Mr. P needs open lumbar surgery. Corday, breathless and distracted, corrects him that the endoscopic procedure "is the best course of treatment in this case." "And it's faster, too," Romano remarks pointedly. Corday agrees that that's true, listing endoscopy's other benefits while peering all preoccupied into the trauma room. "And you can still ditch out of here in time for your romantic weekend?" Romano prompts. Corday's head snaps around, and she bridles: "What the hell are you insinuating -- that I chose an inappropriate course of surgery to accommodate my weekend plans?" "You said it, not me," Romano shrugs. "I've gotta get back," she huffs, and storms back into the trauma room. Okay, in light of what happens later, let's remember that she did in fact advise Mr. P to have surgery, but he didn't want it. He said the words "I don't want back surgery." Heard him myself. So, there's that. OW! All right, that's in bounds, I guess.
Trauma room. Corday yells, "GLOVES!" Jesse is still going bad. The bullet tore a crucial membrane. The heart isn't filling. Peter calls for ice to pack Jesse's head to preserve brain function. Mark yells at Dave to do it. There's blood everywhere. Cleo stands nearby, staring dully at the table. I could have just written "staring" there and gotten the job done, I suppose, but the script probably called for "dully." Anyway, the trauma proceeds apace.
We cut to the lake and Abby filling Carter in on her family history: her mother used to sell cosmetics; her father left when Abby was seven because "he couldn't take it." Sally's an artist, Abby says, and "it was fun, actually" when Sally got manic during Abby's childhood, because they did stuff like camping out in the living room and painting the walls with murals. But then Sally would freak out and start screaming and crying, and Abby's brother Eric got the worst of that. Carter nods and occasionally puts a word in. Eric lives in Florida, and he's an air-traffic controller in the Air Force. So both of Sally's kids work in high-pressure, chaotic environments. Did you get that? Because my ass got it, I assure you. Abby's beeper goes off. She checks it, puts it away, and goes on to say that the manic episodes led to depressive episodes, during which Sally would take to her bed for weeks at a time, leaving Abby to "scam meals off the neighbors" so that she and Eric could eat. Carter suggests getting Sally some help, giving her meds or something, but Abby just shakes her head: "No, she won't take the drugs, she likes it...when she's manic." She looks down, burying her chin in her coat, then looks up at Carter: "I can't do this again." Carter regards her gently as she shakes her head again. "I'm not strong enough." She stares out at the lake.