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The Pitt highlights the bittersweet bonds of family

Emotions bubble over in "3:00 P.M."

The Pitt highlights the bittersweet bonds of family

Ask anyone to list the main players in a hospital, and you’ll probably get three answers: doctors, patients, and nurses. But what goes underdiscussed is that hospitals are also places where families live out some of their most defining moments together. From babies being born to parents passing away to divorced spouses getting called in as emergency contacts, hospitals reshape families every day. And “3:00 P.M.” brings that sometimes tough, sometimes beautiful reality to the forefront. 

That starts with a tragic fulfillment of the prediction Dr. Shen made nine hours ago—that the ER was bound to see some blown off fingers this Fourth Of July. Unfortunately, instead of happening to an adult asshole, it happens to an incredibly sweet 12-year-old boy named Jude who was holding a cherry bomb when it exploded and lost two fingers in the process. And while that in and of itself is horrifying enough, the experience could also reshape Jude’s family forever. When the doctors discover Jude has been drinking, they’re required to call in social services to figure out if he needs to be removed from his home. 

That question gets even more complicated when they discover Jude’s parents were deported to Haiti nine months ago after they went in for their immigration hearing and were detained—a horrifying example of the sort of real-life immigration policies that are ripping families apart in the U.S. Jude’s older sister Chantal stepped in as his legal guardian so he didn’t have to move to a country he’d never been to. And though she’s been trying her best, she’s barely holding it together while juggling work, college, and full-time caretaking. “Being a big sister’s a lot easier than being a surrogate mom,” she tearfully admits. As the true unfairness of the situation kicks in, all Robby has to offer is a platitude: “A lot of what happens to people around here isn’t right.” 

Thankfully, Santos’ adamant belief that Jude and Chantal shouldn’t be separated is echoed by social worker Dylan Easton—at least for now. Indeed, one really nice detail to emerge from this storyline is the fact that Santos is great with kids. While she can be impatient and curt with her bedside manner around adults, she really locks in when it comes to young patients. She knows how to comfort Jude without babying him, calming him down while remaining honest about what’s happening. She doesn’t sugarcoat things, but she also gives Jude positives to focus on too—praising him for dropping the firecracker and saving his hand and reminding him that he still has his thumb and his most important fingers. In medical-drama terms, she’s following in the proud footsteps of terse bad boy Alex Karev over on Grey’s Anatomy, who also unlocked his full potential in pediatrics. 

In fact, after last week’s episode lightly pitted Santos and Langdon against one another, “3:00 P.M.” reminds us they can both be incredibly empathetic doctors at their best too. Langdon gets his own hero moment as Mel’s sister Becca is brought in with UTI symptoms. It’s not necessarily a true emergency, although Mel understandably processes it as one, which is the last thing she needs before her deposition. Thankfully, Mel’s “work family” is there to help. Dana gets Becca into a room right away, and Langdon steps up as maybe the only other person Mel would fully trust to take care of Becca. 

For his part, Robby exists on both sides of the work-family spectrum. Abbot acts like his big brother, wishing him well on his trip but also reminding him, “If it gets dark, you call me.” (These are words Robby can barely process.) Then it’s Robby’s turn to step in as a big brother to Whitaker, handing over his official “doctor” badge alongside some words of wisdom about setting boundaries with patients (and their widows). Of course, Robby then complicates his own boundaries by inviting Whitaker to house-sit for him while he’s on his trip. But, hey, apparently there’s something about Whitaker that just makes everyone want to offer him housing. Still, on the heels of Abbot’s “You just make sure you come back,” it’s ominous to hear Robby joke to Whitaker, “If I don’t come back, you got a swinging bachelor pad.”

In fact, all the empathy bubbling around this episode makes it one of the most emotional hours of the season yet. And that’s especially true for two patients with particularly complicated family situations: Roxie and Howard, who thankfully does return to PTMC after his CT at Presbie. (I assumed they were fully transferring him over there.) Though their cases couldn’t be more different, Roxie and Howard are linked by the fact that they’re both thinking about death in the sort of tangible way few people do. For her part, Roxie is actively in the process of dying. And, for his part, Howard is headed into a surgery that only has a 50-percent survival rate.

Even as they face that reality, however, they’re both thinking about their loved ones as much as themselves. Roxie has been downplaying her pain because she didn’t want her family to worry about her. And this episode has a keen eye for just how complex family dynamics can be in these kinds of impossible situations. Roxie’s younger son is too little to fully process what’s happening—he jumps up into his mom’s bed without noticing her flinch in pain. Yet her older son is clearly deeply attuned to her emotional state. When he and his grandparents return from an ice-cream run, he anxiously pulls out his mom’s favorite flavor first. 

Later, McKay sits by Roxie’s side as she opens up about the pain of knowing she’ll never get to see her sons grow up. And while we don’t know how McKay responds when Roxie quietly asks, “Any advice? I’ve never died before,” at least we know someone is there to listen to the question. Abbot, similarly, makes sure that Howard gets to reconnect with his sister before he heads into surgery—even if that means wheeling his hospital bed into the ambulance bay to get cell service. Though Howard still can’t speak, Craig Ricci Shaynak conveys so much emotion around the bittersweet moment of sibling reconciliation. And his sister’s rushed “Oh, I forgot to tell him I love him” is beautiful and devastating.

Indeed, in a lot of ways, “3:00 P.M.” makes the case that The Pitt doesn’t need some big dramatic mass-casualty event to give the season stakes. The most dramatic moments of this hour come when one of Javadi’s patients simply slips through the cracks of the hospital’s pseudo-analog setup and the doctors have to jump into crisis mode to save her—turning a simple surgical solution into a far more complicated one. That’s why I’m not exactly sure how to react to the cliff-hanger reveal that a deadly waterslide collapse at a nearby waterpark is sending a new round of airlifted patients to PTMC.  

It’s a twist that runs the risk of making The Pitt just a “mass-casualty of the week” show, which is somewhat at odds with the sense of normalcy that has defined this season. (As Dana warns Emma, minus the cyberattack, this is kind of what the hospital is usually like on any given day.) Still, this strong, empathetic hour manages to juggle so many storylines so effectively that I’m going to remain cautiously optimistic that The Pitt knows what it’s doing with this one too. If this day was ever normal to begin with, it certainly doesn’t seem like it’s going to stay that way for long.  

Stray observations

  • • Love the reveal of Princess and Perlah as the queens of insider trading. (Princess got info from a nurse at Westbridge, and Perlah takes 40 percent of her winnings to keep quiet about it.) 
  • • Some patient updates: After her medicine starts to work, our eye-stroke patient goes up to the ICU for the rest of her observation. Our open shoulder dislocation patient is still in surgery after his roundtrip back to PTMC. Our bitten-tongue patient has been discharged. And tased college student Jackson has officially been moved to psych. 
  • • Meanwhile, our new staffers include a hot radiologist named Nick Barker and a retired clerk named Monica Peters (played by the great character actor Rusty Schwimmer), who was laid off by the “digital revolution” but now swoops in to save the day after Dana calls her up.
  • • We also get our PSA of the week thanks to a patient with PCOS (Polycystic Ovary Syndrome) who explains the frustrating, painful reality of a hormonal disorder that’s often overlooked by doctors who don’t take women’s pain seriously. Though Whitaker was set to add to that stat, McKay is there to break the pattern (and save the patient’s twisted ovary). 
  • • I had to look this up, but, yep, Pittsburgh actually does have an annual furry convention called Anthrocon that takes place around the Fourth Of July each year. Will Santos attend and unleash her inner dragon?
  • • It’s really sweet how Digby immediately jumps up to give the doctors extra room as they pull out a crash cart for Javadi’s patient. 
  • • “Ogilvie, put your hand down.” 
  • Gnarliest moment of the week: That prosthetic of poor Jude’s blown-up hand is very memorable. 

Caroline Siede is a contributor to The A.V. Club.  

 
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