Category: Season 5

Ever since I was blitzkrieged by an enraged German named Otto, a certain Dr. Barbie no longer exists for me, so if she was to ask me a question, I wouldn’t be able to hear and you’d have to repeat it.

Would you go ahead and thank what’s-his-name for me?

Well, it’s no secret how I feel about surgeons. I hate them. I’d liken them to rocks, but that would insult rocks because, you see, at least rocks are useful to society. We build bridges, throw them at guys wearing phones clipped to their heads. It’s a phone. You can’t do this? However, it is not Dr. Briggs’ fault that she works in a broken system. Top hospitals are only interested in hiring surgeons who they think are flawless. That’s not the answer you thought you’d hear, but as always, I don’t care.

Bob, I’m not planning on doing any paperwork. But I did go ahead and leave my urine sample on your driver’s side car door.

Ladies, hate to disappoint, but my quota for women who bug the bejesus out of me has been met for the next billion years.

Not going to happen. I had to strangle a nurse to get this clicky top.

You’ve put me in an awkward spot because I’m a healer and I want to help, but speaking to you would acknowledge your existence. You don’t exist. So I’m going to address the stapler. Hi, stapler. The red is killer. By the way, there’s a Dr. Brownsfield who is just the most wonderful bone guy. What? What’s that, stapler? Oh, no. She… She’s an actual doctor.

Lunch for us? Not going to happen. Normally, I’d say something harsh now like, We’re not friends,” but you’ll grin that stupid grin and shake your head, like, “How could that possibly be true?””

You know, son, as a doctor, I spend a lot of my day dealing with other people’s poop. And I’m not going to lie to you, Jackie, it gets old. Now that’s, that’s not to say I haven’t enjoyed waking up to a fresh brown trout in your Huggies. Besides, you’re gonna do the same thing for me some day real soon. And yet, aside from actually seeing you being born and that time Wayne Gretzky said, What’s up” to me in line at the bank, you out of diapers is the best thing that’s ever happened. It truly is. Now why don’t you go into your room and play for a little while because we’re going to celebrate grown-up style.”

Because you’re an attending now. And that doesn’t just mean a fat bank account, expensive new toys, and a fancy lawyer on retainer for when you kill a prostitute. From now on, the buck stops with you. And I know that you have occasionally bent the rules in this dump over the past couple of years, but you only did it because you knew when the crap started raining down it was damn sure gonna fall on my head. But now, the only way for you to stay out of the trouble storm is for you to go by the book. And I got news for you on that front: By-the-book attendings kill us up here. Newbie, I couldn’t tell you about Kellerman ’cause I don’t know what kind of attending you’re gonna be.