Carter exits into a loud room with a loud voice complaining about waiting, and another person wondering who his doctor is. Oh, lord. Mayhem again. Always mayhem. Does Mayhem not have anywhere else to be right now? Does no one else ever employ it, or invite it out for coffee? Carter bumps into Weaver and begs for her aid. "I'm swamped with all these physical improvements," she says. Yeah, optional improvements. Weaver orders Carter to run the show. Again, why? Is he not outranked by other Attendings? And if he's the only organizational whiz, then why is he not an Attending? Carter digests Kerry's remarks and asks if she fired Romano. "No, he's on medical leave," she says. "What? His arm?" Carter asks. Weaver blows him off.
Chen whizzes past and asks if CT is back up. She's with Crazy Apocalypse Woman, who's turned unresponsive. Carter orders a tox screen, while the cop who brought her in hopefully asks whether her unconsciousness means he doesn't have to bother checking out her story that a bunch of people tried to kill her. Carter's like, Remember how you're a cop, bowelmonkey?
A guy in a wheelchair chases Carter down the hall, claiming chronic pancreatitis and that he's puking up his pain pills. "Let me guess: You need a shot of Demerol," Carter yawns. "If you say so, just do it fast," the man begs. Carter's like, Yeah, whatever, you're interrupting my daily mosey. He then moves on to Gallant, who exposits that the Buddhist nun had a mastectomy and radiation chemotherapy, but her surgeon's in Japan and she's not doing so well. Carter then gets a warning that a gunshot victim is ten minutes out; he disappears into the nun's room, perhaps for a breather from the barrage of exposition.
The nun is with her...um, personal assistant? Nun handler? Nun-ette? Not sure. Regardess, her name is Kito, and the nun is called The Venerable Zuin-an. She is bald and weak, and moaning lightly. Carter gently asks if she's comfortable with him giving her a physical exam. Kito translates that Zuin-an is fine with it; she then exposits that the nun is in terrible pain and hasn't had anything to drink in two days. No Diet Coke? No wonder. I'd be bedridden, too. Zuin-an reaches a trembling hand up to Carter's cheek, cupping it weakly. She murmurs something in Japanese. "So much sadness," translates Kito. Carter appears surprised by this diagnosis, as if he hadn't noticed his constant hang-dog expression and general malaise.