Showing posts with label st elsewhere. Show all posts
Showing posts with label st elsewhere. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 12, 2020
My Video: A St. Elsewhere Overview
This was requested by a loyal viewer, and I'm pretty happy with it.
Sunday, January 26, 2020
A St. Elsewhere Drabble Set in Season 2 (230 Words)
This is too short (and too obscure) for AO3, so I'm posting it here. I originally wrote it in the aughts, but since I might be doing more with this canon, let's pull this sucker out of the trunk:
“Hey, Shirley – you know where Elliot went?”
Don’t tell him. Elliot thumped his hot forehead against the bathroom door. Please?
It was the first day of gross anatomy all over again – only this time, the patient was alive – and bleeding – out there, and Elliot himself was still conscious. In other circumstances, the second might’ve been recognized as a sign of personal growth. In other circumstances.
Stars started to twinkle at the edges of Elliot’s field of vision, and he quickly backed up into the tiny bathroom, sitting down hard on the toilet seat. With slick, trembling fingers, he tried to loosen his collar. He was suffocating.
Then, just as suddenly, nerves and self-loathing propelled Elliot back onto his feet, and he started to pace the enclosed space, wringing his hands. “What’s wrong with you?” he muttered aloud. “You’re not supposed to panic, Axelrod. Pull yourself together.”
“Elliot?”
At the knock on the door, Elliot froze, a brand new crimson flush crawling up the back of his neck. This was it. He was going to throw up. He was going to die. He was going to be barred from practicing medicine before he’d even begun.
“It’s okay, Elliot. You can come out now. They just took the patient up to surgery.”
Was Dr. Fiscus amused?
Elliot drew in a deep breath and, bracing himself, opened the door.
Yeah, I don't know. Hope this amused somebody!
“Hey, Shirley – you know where Elliot went?”
Don’t tell him. Elliot thumped his hot forehead against the bathroom door. Please?
It was the first day of gross anatomy all over again – only this time, the patient was alive – and bleeding – out there, and Elliot himself was still conscious. In other circumstances, the second might’ve been recognized as a sign of personal growth. In other circumstances.
Stars started to twinkle at the edges of Elliot’s field of vision, and he quickly backed up into the tiny bathroom, sitting down hard on the toilet seat. With slick, trembling fingers, he tried to loosen his collar. He was suffocating.
Then, just as suddenly, nerves and self-loathing propelled Elliot back onto his feet, and he started to pace the enclosed space, wringing his hands. “What’s wrong with you?” he muttered aloud. “You’re not supposed to panic, Axelrod. Pull yourself together.”
“Elliot?”
At the knock on the door, Elliot froze, a brand new crimson flush crawling up the back of his neck. This was it. He was going to throw up. He was going to die. He was going to be barred from practicing medicine before he’d even begun.
“It’s okay, Elliot. You can come out now. They just took the patient up to surgery.”
Was Dr. Fiscus amused?
Elliot drew in a deep breath and, bracing himself, opened the door.
Yeah, I don't know. Hope this amused somebody!
Wednesday, January 22, 2020
A Confession
I like "problematic" characters. In fact, I'm endlessly fascinated by them if they're written well.
If you've been reading this blog for a while, you've probably noticed this already. As I once remarked on Facebook, I don't need to approve of everything characters do to appreciate them so long as there's something about them that's potentially redeemable.
I actually don't think there's anything wrong with me. Fiction is supposed to be the place to explore traits we would never tolerate in real life. But you know: it's Current Year, and boring, anti-intellectual people will certainly consider it a terrible crime that I love the character I'm about to discuss.
At any rate: I hope you'll bear with me for a moment because I need to talk about Dr. Mark Craig.
Since December, I've been essentially mainlining St. Elsewhere, a famous hospital drama from the 1980's I first encountered in high school when, for some reason, the Maryland public television station decided to air its reruns in the early afternoon. I originally took to this show because of Stephen Furst, who played one of the beleaguered residents with his usual sensitivity and comedic timing -- but today, nearly three seasons into my re-watch, I'm developing an almost insane obsession with Craig.
As I noted in the video I posted the other day, Craig is a generation-typical bigot who uses the n-word shockingly liberally and routinely mocks the Indian anesthesiologist for not being sufficiently American. He's also, to put it frankly, a controlling asshole who throws scalpels at the surgical residents and gets on his wife's case every time things aren't just so at home.
But Craig is also far from simple. When an old friend from college comes to St. Eligius for a sex change operation, Craig - predictably - is outraged. But after we're treated to a couple episodes of his angst over the matter, he ultimately decides not to interfere -- a fundamentally liberal outcome even if Craig's mind isn't actually changed.
And then there's Craig's sense of honor. Last night, I watched the third season episode in which the infamous Mrs. Hufnagel dies (another fantastic character, by the way) and was instantly inspired to write this post for one simple reason: when Craig realizes that an error on his part contributed to the old lady's death, he stands up in front of the residents at the M&M and accepts 100% responsibility in one of the most outstanding scenes ever. The argument could definitely be made that Craig wasn't the only one at fault. Throughout season three, Mrs. Hufnagel was bounced from doctor to doctor because of her prickly personality and therefore had no continuity of care. But regardless of all the documented mitigating factors, Craig still took the fall for everyone else. That's fucking amazing.
Never in a million years would anyone take the risk of writing a Dr. Mark Craig today -- and that's a crying shame. If we can't write "problematic" people, we really miss out on some incredible explorations of the human condition -- and some incredible exercises in empathy.
If you've been reading this blog for a while, you've probably noticed this already. As I once remarked on Facebook, I don't need to approve of everything characters do to appreciate them so long as there's something about them that's potentially redeemable.
I actually don't think there's anything wrong with me. Fiction is supposed to be the place to explore traits we would never tolerate in real life. But you know: it's Current Year, and boring, anti-intellectual people will certainly consider it a terrible crime that I love the character I'm about to discuss.
At any rate: I hope you'll bear with me for a moment because I need to talk about Dr. Mark Craig.
Since December, I've been essentially mainlining St. Elsewhere, a famous hospital drama from the 1980's I first encountered in high school when, for some reason, the Maryland public television station decided to air its reruns in the early afternoon. I originally took to this show because of Stephen Furst, who played one of the beleaguered residents with his usual sensitivity and comedic timing -- but today, nearly three seasons into my re-watch, I'm developing an almost insane obsession with Craig.
As I noted in the video I posted the other day, Craig is a generation-typical bigot who uses the n-word shockingly liberally and routinely mocks the Indian anesthesiologist for not being sufficiently American. He's also, to put it frankly, a controlling asshole who throws scalpels at the surgical residents and gets on his wife's case every time things aren't just so at home.
But Craig is also far from simple. When an old friend from college comes to St. Eligius for a sex change operation, Craig - predictably - is outraged. But after we're treated to a couple episodes of his angst over the matter, he ultimately decides not to interfere -- a fundamentally liberal outcome even if Craig's mind isn't actually changed.
And then there's Craig's sense of honor. Last night, I watched the third season episode in which the infamous Mrs. Hufnagel dies (another fantastic character, by the way) and was instantly inspired to write this post for one simple reason: when Craig realizes that an error on his part contributed to the old lady's death, he stands up in front of the residents at the M&M and accepts 100% responsibility in one of the most outstanding scenes ever. The argument could definitely be made that Craig wasn't the only one at fault. Throughout season three, Mrs. Hufnagel was bounced from doctor to doctor because of her prickly personality and therefore had no continuity of care. But regardless of all the documented mitigating factors, Craig still took the fall for everyone else. That's fucking amazing.
Never in a million years would anyone take the risk of writing a Dr. Mark Craig today -- and that's a crying shame. If we can't write "problematic" people, we really miss out on some incredible explorations of the human condition -- and some incredible exercises in empathy.
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