I, uh… I can’t believe you’re finally getting out of this deathtrap. The odds were against you. You had a life-threatening disease, a life-threatening doctor.

Return this pen or die painfully.

One rule. No yapping. The only thing I want to hear is my liver drunkenly singing rugby songs.

I actually had my physical last week, and while my cholesterol was low, my blood pressure was through the roof. Needless to say, my physician was stumped; but now — thank God! — you’ve helped us solve that riddle. You see, because, the very instant I heard your shrill voice whining about a teeny-weeny problem, […]

Here you’ve put me in a tough situation: I can’t honestly decide whether to say, Duh,” uh, “Doy,” or a very sarcastic, “Oh, really?” My God, Fiona, I know it wasn’t your fault; hell, the patient probably knows! But he seemed a little distraught, like maybe being able to blame somebody for a second or […]

And for the hundredth time: You’re right, you had absolutely nothing to do with me getting involved in this Mrs. Bumbry case. But, for God’s sake, Carla, the much bigger problem facing us right now is just exactly how do we get you to stop annoying me?

When you speak of this — and I know you will — could I be shirtless? See, I think it would be more impressive if I was shirtless

Listen closely, Tiny Dancer: I wouldn’t be flapping my mouth if I’d forgotten to get a blood culture on Mr. Blair. And, for the love of God, do you at least remember what you were doing the day they were passing out common sense? Oh, gosh, maybe you were running late that day ’cause you […]

you look like the guy who goes to a garage sale, buys a bronze star, pins it to his lapel, and then tells everybody to call him Sarge.” And Newbie, nobody likes that guy. Not a soul.”

Barbie, as long as you stay and work at this hospital, I’m always gonna be your superior…. That’s just the way it goes. Don’t get me wrong, you can keep trying to connect with me; I mean, hell, you’re…you’re so damn entertaining you just might make some head-way. But still, you might be better served […]