In the hall, Corday tells Malik to book an OR for an endoscopic diskectomy. Sally blows past, still bawling Abby's name; Kerry gives chase. Corday makes "the hell?" noises as she enters the trauma room. A security guard appears to confine Sally, and he and Kerry basically gang up on her to make her sit down, and the screaming crescendos. Pan over to a nearby hallway where Abby leans against the wall, arms crossed over her chest, shrinking down into herself. At last, Sally agrees to sit, and she repeats over and over again, "I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine." But she's obviously not. Just in case you didn't see the episode, or hear Sally Field's bicuspids tearing through piece after piece of the ER set. Just then, Abby rounds the corner. "Abby!" Sally squawks, bringing Abby up short. "Abby. There she is -- that's my daughter," Sally quavers, holding out a trembling hand to point to Abby. Abby's mouth twitches: "Hi, Mom." Kerry regards Abby with an eloquent look of pity. Excellent job by Maura Tierney and Laura Innes here. Sally Field...less so.
In the trauma room, the GSW victim wails that he doesn't want to die. Just to save time here -- it's Jesse, Peter's nephew, as you probably guessed from the previouslys. And the unforgettable sensation of two inches of hat pin entering your tuchis. Maybe that's just me. Anyway, Corday gowns up; in the background, Dave tells Jesse to "pipe down, I can't hear anything." Nice attitude, Caribbean Clown College. Anyway, stats called off, Mark ordering tests, Corday saying Jesse needs a chest tube, Dave saying "mother may I" (literally) and getting permission to put in said chest tube.
Sally's babbling: "Look at you, you're still so pretty." Abby cuts to the chase: "What're you doing here, [Sally]?" She came to see Abby. How'd she get here? The bus, she came on the bus. Does Eric know she's in Chicago? Oh, Abby knows how busy Eric gets. So Sally just left and didn't call? Why didn't she call Abby first? "I -- I was worried about you," Sally whispers. She'd heard about the separation -- "a year ago," Abby interrupts snappishly, looking away. "Yeah, I'm divorced." Sally, agape, puts a melodramatic hand over her face in a hammy gesture of disbelief. Abby asks what about Sally's job at the department store; Sally dodges with a little of the old "my daughter is more important than any stupid job," then without taking a breath changes the subject to the fact that she left her stuff in the lounge (read: she pulled a Mary Camden and got fired). She starts to rush off to get her things, but Abby says through gritted teeth that she's working. Sally knows; she'll wait. Off she goes. Kerry sees Abby sitting all hunched in her seat, and comes over. After a pause, she prods Abby not unkindly: "Frank said that you said you didn't know her." Abby looks resolutely away for a moment, then nods very slightly. Kerry takes a seat: "How long has she been bipolar?" Abby, over a barely perceptible lump in her throat: "Since I was a kid." "She's off her meds?" Abby snorts, "Apparently." Fired her acting coach, too. You know, apparently.