Carter peers into the family room at Migraine Mom's kids. Luka sneaks up behind Carter and proffers his hand. Carter clasps it and they shake. There's affection between them -- friendly this time, despite my frequently and loudly pinging gaydar. Carter absently shares that the kids' mother thought her migraines were returning, but really, she and her kids were just starving. This is the last mention of this subplot; it almost feels like the rest of it ended up on the cutting-room floor. As they walk away, Luka grins, "She's beautiful, by the way." He's talking about Kem, and Carter seems proud. "When are you going back?" he asks. "Two weeks," Luka replies. "I'm on my way up to drop off my resignation letter." He asks how long Carter's staying; Carter replies that Kem's returning in a few weeks to visit her family -- there's no mention of her work, interestingly, which had been her chief problem with leaving the Congo -- and he says she's planning to return to deliver the child. "Does she miss home?" Luka asks. "We both do," Carter says pointedly. Luka smiles, and then cracks, "Give yourself a week of hot showers and an unlimited glove supply, and you'll miss it less." He hops into the elevator and gives Carter a little wave.
Neela grabs Carter to tell him that Martin's breathing is getting worse, and that the anesthesiologist who was supposed to come down to aid in the intubation has not appeared. Carter checks in on the suffering Martin and resolves to go drag an anesthesiologist down there if he has to snare the bastard in his beard to do it.
Larry's heart rate, meanwhile, is dropping. "You've got a kid who needs you," Pratt growls, unafraid at this hackneyed point to barf up whatever platitudes seem apt. The scan starts; Elizabeth enters the technician's room and grabs the microphone. "Pratt, what in God's name are you doing in there?" she asks, exasperated. "Keeping this guy alive so we can get the CT and show you where to cut," Pratt retorts. The image comes up, and Elizabeth identifies the problem, getting back on the microphone and congratulating Pratt. "He would've bled out while I focused on the liver and the spleen," she applauds. Right before we cut out of the scene, Pratt purrs to the female student -- whose name is Sheila, apparently -- that "it's all in the wrist." I'm betting that's not the first time he's said that to a woman. Hell, it might not even be the first time he's said it over the unconscious naked body of a portly old man.