Zimberg doesn't want his wife to lose "one minute of sleep" over this, his new dying. He honestly thinks she doesn't know. He can feel her: "Here she comes! My childhood sweetheart." Mrs. Zimberg runs to the bed, smiling deeply. "I looked and looked!" she shouts joyfully, and he grins. "And now you found."

Jackie introduces herself, and Zimberg explains to his wife how he was just saying, no more doctors and no more medicine. His wife completes his sentences; she knows he's ready too. They are entering the Balkans, over rocks and barren fields, after decades, with his hand in hers. "All he needs is in this bag," she says, and he nods; Jackie's eyes go humorously wide: "Must be some bag!" They laugh. It is. She leaves them to each other, bouncing for a second to talk to Eddie.

"You rang?" Eddie says, revved up and ready; she tells him her back is killing her and he promises to take care of it -- they'll meet in twenty minutes; he grins wolfishly and leaves. Then it's later, and a young lady is coming in on a gurney, cold and sweating, no fever yet. Her cute, bedimpled husband is sick with worry. He doesn't know what her allergies are, yet. They're too young to know those things; they're too happy to know how to hold hands like that yet. "Penicillin," she gasps out, in pain, and they transfer her to the bed. Allergic to penicillin.

The young wife wasn't feeling great last night, but started cramping up this morning. Jackie can tell they're Midwestern, not native New Yorkers, because "You're in pain and you're apologizing." They apologize; it is their anniversary. Her vitals are okay, Jackie wants to do a pregnancy test, they are overjoyed. She leaves them beaming.

Then it's later, and Zoey's dancing weirdly toward Jackie, calling out, "Hi!" Jackie tells her to stop saying hi, that once a week is plenty, that five days consecutively will earn her a Metro card. Zoey reports on her doings and Jackie notices her stethoscope is gone; Zoey tries to explain that Eleanor took it but Jackie doesn't care. The excuses are for the outside world, she's trying to teach her every day: you don't apologize for mistakes, you just stop making them. And then you laugh, because that's life in the Balkans; because if you don't stay on your toes and remember to breathe, if you don't do both of those, all the time, people die.