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From y.hering@genie.comMon Oct 30 10:03:19 1995
Date: Sat, 28 Oct 95 17:42:00 UTC 0000
From: y.hering@genie.com
To: chicago.hope@umich.edu
Subject: HOPE: Summary

This summary was written by Yvonne Hering and edited by Yolette
 Nicholson.  We share responsibility on any typographical,
 spelling, or grammatical errors.

CHICAGO HOPE, EPISODE 1.14
 "Cutting Edges"
 Original Air date: 2/6/95
 Written by David E. Kelley & Dennis Cooper & Toni Graphia
 Directed by Mark Tinker

          Dr. Jeffrey Geiger visits his wife, Laurie, in the
 hospital.  They hug, then Geiger realizes they aren't alone.
 "Who are you?" he asks the man on the couch.
          Laurie answers shyly, "Honey, this is Gilbert Weeks.
 He was in the band originally."
          "Until you cut me,"  Gilbert reminds him.
          Geiger remembers, "Right.  I didn't recognize you
 without your uh, trombone."  He pulls Laurie to the side.
 "Honey, as I recall Gilbert has cut people with sharp
 instruments.  Should you really be alone with him?"
          "That was one isolated incident with a can opener,"
 Laurie argues.
          Geiger understands, but he still thinks security should
 be present.  He sees Gilbert leaning closer on the bed.
          "Can you lean back, please?"
          Gilbert complies.  Laurie tells Geiger how close she
 and Gilbert have become.  They have something to tell Geiger, she
 says.
     Gilbert smiles nervously and says,"I would like her hand."
          Geiger smiles.  "She needs her hand, Gilbert," he
 patiently explains.  "Suppose someday she'd like to play the
 trombone, like you?  She'd need both her hands, wouldn't she?"
          "I mean her hand in marriage,"  Gilbert clarifies.
          Laurie smiles.  "And I want to give it to him. . . . I
 know this is a conversation we should be having alone, and I
 wanted to tell you alone, but I was afraid I wouldn't be strong
 enough to say . . ."
          Geiger still doesn't understand what they are talking
 about. "Strong enough to say . . . ?"
          "I'm in love with Gilbert and I want to marry him."
          Geiger looks astonished. "You . . . ?  That's a joke,
 right?"  He laughs.
          Laurie laughs along, then stops.  "It's not a joke.  I
 want a divorce," she says.



ACT ONE

     Geiger asks Gilbert to leave the room.
          "I'd prefer not to. Laurie needs my support," Gilbert
 says.
     "I'm Laurie's husband and would like to share a spousal
 communication with her in your absence," Geiger says. He nudges
 Gilbert out the door.
     Gilbert digs in his heels.  "I don't like your tone.  I'm a
 lawyer by trade, you know?  And I object to your condescending
 intonations."
     Geiger smiles, but continues to push Gilbert out the door.
 "Objection sustained, counsel.  Let's try to keep in mind you're
 in this academy because you tried to play doctor with a jagged
 can opener, without getting informed consent from your patient."
          He succeeds in pushing Gilbert out of the room, but
 Gilbert remains in the doorway.
          "Both feet have to be fully out for the door to close,"
 Geiger tells him patiently.
          "The tone troubles me," Gilbert responds.
          Geiger smiles. "Shut your eyes.  Think Prozac."
          He closes the door, takes off his jacket and sits next
 to Laurie on the bed.
     "Are you out of what's left of your mind?" he asks her.
          Laurie tries to make Geiger understand.  "I didn't plan
 on it happening.  We've been together every day for three years."

          "Laurie, I am your husband."
          She smiles tearfully.  "I'm not going to get better."
          "So marrying Gilbert . . . that's an answer?"
     Laurie braces herself as she continues her explanation.  "I
 want a partner again.  I want somebody to share with and live
 with."
          Geiger is hurt.  "I've tried to be there for you."
          Tears swell in Laurie's eyes.
          "I can't imagine anybody trying harder than you have,"
 she tells him.  "I also cannot imagine loving anybody as deeply
 as I have you.  And, God, if I could get back, if I could return
 to the way it was, that would be one thing, but I'm not going to
 get back there, sweetie.  So, I have to move forward.  And I love
 Gilbert."



     Dr. Dennis Hancock walks into the hospital with his young
 teenage patient, Tamara, and her mother.  Tamara is impressed
 with the hospital and thinks Dr. Hancock "should get some of this
 flavor" for his office.  They run into Dr. Billy Kronk.
     "So, it's true you really do work here?" Hancock marvels.
          "Yeah.  They pay me and everything," Kronk says.
          Hancock points to Kronk's bruised left eye.  "They hit
 you too?"
          "High stick," Kronk explains
          The two friends hug.  Hancock introduces Tamara to
 Kronk.  Tamara says she doesn't think Kronk looks like a doctor.
 Hancock tells her he doesn't act like one either.  Kronk shows
 them into his office, and Hancock fills him in on Tamara's case.
          "Routine check up," Hancock tells him, "but when I went
 to listen to her chest, I noticed the right nipple was
 retracted."  He tells Kronk that two maternal aunts have died of
 ductal C.A.
     Kronk tells him they will set up a mammogram.
          "I appreciate this, Billy," Hancock says. "Oh, and
 insurance?  They don't have any."
          "I never heard that," Kronk drowns him out.  "Let's get
 her to radiology, all right?"
     Hancock indicates the hand-scrawled name sign outside
 Kronk's office, commenting, "Classy."
     "I know," Kronk agrees mildly.



          Geiger paces around his office wearing nothing but blue
 boxer shorts and argyle socks under his blue shirt and tie.
          Aaron Shutt walks by and glances in.
          "Why are you not wearing pants?" he inquires
 hesitantly.
          "Because I need to concentrate," Geiger tells him.  "I
 need to pace in order to concentrate."
     Shutt enters his friend's office and quietly closes the
 door.
     "I also need quiet," Geiger continues.  "When I pace, my
 pants make a sound.  Not a big sound, a little sound.  A whipping
 sound.  Strikes me.  Makes me hafta stop pacing and then I don't
 think so well.
          "You see? I'm nuts!" he goes on.  "I'm perfectly
 qualified to be her partner in life.  I can . . . I can be just
 as crazy as that loon with the trombone."  He imitates a trombone
 player, then turns his attention back to Shutt, who is silently
 placing a new battery into his pager.
          "You know who they bonded over?  Red Sox.  The Boston
 Red Sox.  Who bonds over the Boston Red Sox?  He first went over
 the edge in '86 after they blew the World Series to the Mets.
 You believe that?  A baseball game sent this guy to the rubber
 room.  She finds it endearing 'cause she grew up rootin' for the
 Cubs.  She can identify.  Unbelievable."
     He looks down and paces.
          "I'm hearing my pants," he says.  "I'm not wearin' 'em,
 I'm hearin' phantom pant noises.  Whip whip whip whip whip.  I
 couldn't snap over baseball, maybe, but I am perfectly capable of
 empathizing with her insanity.  We can be partners." He looks
 down, waving his hands in the air.  "Am I the only one hearing
 the pants, huh?"
          Shutt sits on the edge of the desk and asks carefully,
 "You said that if she could return to her old self she would?"
          Geiger stops pacing.  "Of course."
          Shutt looks away from his friend. Geiger watches him
 closely, then crosses his arms. "What?" he asks.
          Shutt reluctantly tells him there is one procedure that
 might work, a radical form of brain surgery called a cingulotomy.
 The only place that has done this procedure is Massachusetts
 General.  He says he has some ethical reservations about it.
     Geiger wants to know about the success rate.  Shutt informs
 him that 40 percent of the patients have shown improvement.
 Geiger wants him to explain the procedure.  Shutt hesitates, but
 Geiger persuades him.  Geiger wants to know why it isn't done
 regularly, and Shutt explains that it is very controversial and
 no hospital wants to touch it.  Geiger doesn't think that's a
 good enough reason if it can save a life.
          Shutt sits down next to Geiger.
          "You're talking about a partial lobotomy  Do you really
 want to do that to Laurie?" he asks.
          Geiger shakes his head.  "I don't want to do it," he
 says. "I want you to do it."



          Tamara is given a mammogram while Hancock explains the
 procedure to her mother.  She smiles at Tamara's beauty and
 youth.
     A nurse interrupts them so the doctors can talk to the
 radiologist and review the X-rays.  "The mass is very
 accessible," the radiologist tells Hancock.  "I won't even need
 ultrasound to guide the needle."
     "We'll need a biopsy to be certain," he says.
     Meanwhile, Tamara nervously sits alone in the corridor
 waiting for the results.


ACT TWO

          Geiger visits Laurie to explain the surgery to her.
          "It's brain surgery, and it might not work," he
 cautions.
          "But this could make me better again?" Laurie asks.
          "Yes."
          "Then of course I want it.  How could I not?"
          "Are you sure?" Geiger probes.
          "I want the operation," she reaffirms, after a long
 pause.  "I want it."
          They kiss.



          In Chief of Staff Dr. Phillip Watters' office, Shutt
 and Geiger try to explain the procedure to hospital counsel Alan
 Birch and Watters.
          "This is a lobotomy," Birch denounces.  "That's what
 this is, a lobotomy!"
          Geiger glares at him.
          "You're an attorney," he explains.  "Affectionately
 known as the eel because you slither around the room on a bed of
 fungus which oozes from your mouth under the guise of legal
 counsel.  What you are not is a doctor.  So, please do not ever
 try to define medical procedures for my benefit. Do you feel too
 trampled on with that restriction?"
          Birch holds up his hands. "No no no no no no.  I would
 never presume to preempt your medical judgment," he says calmly.
 "As an attorney, however, I am often occasioned to have opinions.
 My opinion is that this operation threatens catastrophic
 repercussions for this hospital.  It is irreversible, it is
 unpredictable. The risks . . ."
     "You're talking medicine again," Geiger says. "This troubles
 me.  You are not a doctor."
          Birch counters, "And are you or are you the husband?"
          Watters breaks up the argument before they come to
 blows.  "All right, that's enough."
          Alan spins away. "Look, he started it.  Sorry, Phillip,
 I have to be allowed to fight back.  Always had gumption when
 cornered."
          "Aaron, this procedure does seem a little barbaric,"
 Watters allows.
          "It doesn't involve much brain tissue," Shutt says.
 "We pinpoint the clusters.  Look, every option has been
 exhausted.  Drugs.  Electroconvulsion therapy.  Nothing's
 worked."
          Watters is unconvinced. "But this . . ."
          "No matter how barbaric it sounds, it's going on very
 quietly already," Shutt says.
          "Not here it isn't," Birch mutters.
      Watters holds one finger up to his lips and says, "Shhh."
          "It's psychosurgery and it goes on hundreds of times a
 year," Shutt continues. "Nobody likes to talk about it because of
 the 'L' word.  Nobody likes the phrase lobotomy, but it *is* a
 treatment."
          Geiger butts in.  "Patients have a right to have it if
 they want it.  Laurie wants it."
     "At the very least we have to put it to risk management,"
 Birch says.
     "Oh please.  No committees!" Geiger bursts out with quiet
 desperation. "This is my wife.  Couldn't we do this without
 assembling the debate team?  Can we just do it quietly.  Please,
 Phillip?"
          "Are you the legal guardian?" Watters asks.
          "I am."
          With a quick glance at Birch, Watters makes his
 decision.  "OK," he says.
          Birch is not happy.  He shoots a look at Watters, who
 shrugs silently.



     Kronk and Hancock play table hockey as Dr. Geri Infante
 watches.  They stop when the secretary announces that Dr. Kronk's
 patient has arrived.  After Kronk sits Tamara and her mother
 down, he introduces them to Dr. Infante.
     The doctors explain that Tamara has breast cancer.  The
 tumor is well-differentiated, which means it's the best kind to
 have, but they have to act now, they tell her.  They want to
 admit her into the hospital and operate the next day before it
 spreads.  They want to remove her breast completely.  Kronk
 promises her that it can be reconstructed, adding that Infante is
 one of the best plastic surgeons in the country.  Infante tells
 her she is in the high-risk category for cancer in any breast
 tissue that remains.  Kronk inserts that they are aiming for a
 complete recovery.
     "Recovery as *what*?" Tamara inquires hysterically.
          The teenager refuses to let them remove her breast and
 leaves the office crying.



          Birch and Geiger walk off the hospital elevator
 arguing.  Birch tries to explain that it is not his fault, that
 "they just appeared" in his office.  They enter Birch's office
 and there sits Gilbert and his attorney with two men in white
 coats off to the side.
          Geiger shakes Gilbert's hand.
          "Gilbert!  What a surprise," Geiger says with forced
 courtesy.
          Gilbert turns to his doctor.  "Check out the tone," he
 says.
          Dr. Goodman shakes Geiger's hand.  "Hi, I'm Dr.
 Goodman.  Resident psychiatrist at Huron."
          "Hi. Jeff Geiger."
          He leads Dr. Goodman away from Gilbert and asks, "Are
 you supporting this?"
          "No," Goodman says. "In order for him to leave the
 institute, he's got to be accompanied by a doctor and security.
 That's why I'm here.  The lawsuit's his own initiative."
          Gilbert stands.
          "I'm an attorney," he reminds them.  "I'm fully
 licensed to litigate and you are not going to perform this
 invasive surgery on my fianc e."
          Geiger gestures for him to sit on the couch, while
 seating himself in a nearby chair.
          "What's the nature of your lawsuit?" he asks.
          Gilbert hands him some papers. "I brought a motion to
 disqualify you as guardian.  Laurie lacks capacity to give
 meaningful consent to the cingulotomy and the guardian certainly
 should not be you since your sole motive for the operation is to
 make her fall out of love with me.  Her true soulmate."
          "My motivation is for her to get well," Geiger says
 easily.
          "Well, she's been sick for six years and it wasn't
 until she decided to marry me that you felt compelled to drill
 into her brain."
          "Mr. Weeks, you too are an ill man, in no position to
 be vested with Laurie's welfare," Geiger says. "You went insane
 'cause the Red Sox lost a series of baseball games to the Mets.
 Gilbert, the Mets were a better team."
          Gilbert stares at him and starts to get agitated.  He
 waves Geiger's comments aside, trying in vain to let this go.
          "The Mets were not a better team, and I'm not insane."
          Geiger gets up from his chair and moves to the couch,
 beside Gilbert.  He leans in conspiratorially and whispers,
 "Well, here's something.  Bucky Dent."
          Gilbert angrily stands.
          "Routine fly ball," he protests.  "Routine.  Any other
 park it's an out.  *Easy* out."  He takes a deep breath.
          "Easy Gilbert," Dr. Goodman says soothingly.  "Looped
 towards shortstop.  Petrocelli's back and he's got it.  Red Sox
 win."
          "Red Sox win," Gilbert repeats.
          "What are you doing?" Geiger asks, as Gilbert soothes
 himself, "Red Sox win . . . "
          "I'm taking him back to 1967," the psychiatrist
 explains.  "The year they won the pennant.  Remember the rally,
 Gilbert?  Lonberg started it all off with a bunt."
     "Mmm hmmm . . . " Gilbert murmurs.
     Geiger and Birch stare at each other incredulously.  Geiger
 leans back on the couch with crossed legs, feeling quite
 satisfied with himself.
          "Then he has to go skiing," Gilbert goes on.  "Should
 have been in the hall of fame.  Instead he's a dentist."
          "Could you give us just a moment please?" Dr. Goodman
 asks.
     Geiger and Birch leave the office.
          "How can this man go to court and challenge us?" Geiger
 sneers.  "He's certifiable."
          "His sanity isn't the issue," Birch cautions. "Your
 being the guardian is the basis of the motion  If he removes you
 as guardian, there will be no operation on Laurie."
          "This is insane," Geiger says.
          "Look, we did catch a break," Birch tells him.
 "Division 16, tomorrow.  Our friend Judge Aldrich is sitting."
          "Our friend?  The one that calls you a toad?"
          Birch brushes this off. "He's sympathetic to this
 hospital and he's not threatened by controversial procedures.  He
 is the judge we want."
          Dr. Goodman leads Gilbert out, who mumbles, " . . .
 coulda been in the Hall of Fame, now instead he fills teeth. . .
 ."



     Hancock, Kronk and Infante quickly walk through the
 hospital's corridor.  They are met by Dr. Watters.  He tells them
 security has been called and he points them to a room where
 Tamara and her mother are arguing.  Tamara declares that she
 would rather be dead than to have her breast removed.
          "Then that's it," Hancock tells her.  "You don't have
 to have the operation."
          "I don't believe you," Tamara says.
          "Believe me," he assures her.  "You don't want the
 procedure, I give you my word, it won't happen."
          Tamara looks doubtful.  "So I can leave?"
          "You can leave.  There are spiritual healers out there.
 I can set you up.  It's not my choice, but there are those that
 believe it works. . . . Right now I think the best thing is for
 you to go home," he says.
          Tamara's mother isn't happy, but takes her daughter out
 of the room.
          Kronk watches them leave, then turns his attention to
 Hancock. "Uh, with all due respect, Hancock, what the hell was
 that? If she doesn't have the operation, she dies."
          "My patient, my call," Hancock says.



     In Geiger's office, Shutt lies on the couch and Geiger
 slumps in a chair with a bottle of booze on the table between
 them. Geiger wants Shutt to explain the procedure to him once
 more. He wants to be able to do the procedure himself if he has
 to, he says.  Shutt complies with an in-depth description of the
 surgery.  Geiger asks if he thinks the surgery is wrong,
 ethically.  Shutt says he doesn't know.
     "It's an operation that alters the personality," he says.
     Geiger feels they do it all the time with mind-altering
 drugs; is it really so different to do it with a piece of
 equipment?
     ''What am I supposed to do, Aaron?" he asks.  "Let her
 resign herself to . . . where she has to marry some other
 nutcase, just to . . . What am I supposed to do?"
     But Shutt has no answers for him.



ACT THREE

     Laurie sits in the institution's recreation room playing
 Risk with her fellow patients.  She's happy when Shutt pays her a
 visit and hugs him.  Laurie's friend Martha speaks up, telling
 him she played the clarinet in the band.
     "Yes, I heard you were . . . excellent,'' Shutt says
 politely.
          "Reed," she responds.
          "I beg your pardon?"
          "The clarinet is a *reed* instrument."
          Shutt nods, at something of a loss, and leads Laurie to
 an area where they can talk in private. He asks Laurie if she
 really wants this operation.
          "How . . . why should I not?" Laurie asks.
     Shutt explains that they may cure the schizophrenia but they
 take out brain tissue and they may remove parts of her make her
 Laurie.
          "Jeffrey wouldn't have suggested something he didn't
 believe in a hundred percent," she says.
          Gilbert comes by and kisses Laurie, explaining that he
 is off to court.  "Wish me luck," he says.
     But all Laurie says is, "Bye."
          After Gilbert leaves, Laurie tells Shutt that Gilbert
 is trying to stop the operation.  Shutt asks if she wants to stop
 it.  Laurie shakes her head.
          "No.  I want to be healthy again."



          Watters goes to Dr. Hancock's clinic where he is
 examining four brothers.  The waiting room is jammed with
 patients.  After the family leaves, Watters tells Hancock that he
 isn't in the habit of second-guessing his colleagues, but that he
 has problem with Hancock telling Tamara she didn't have to have
 the operation and referring her to faith healers.
     Hancock says he doesn't have time for Watters' problems.
     Watters warns him he'd better make time because he practiced
 his malpractice under their roof.  If she refuses that operation
 because of advice she received at Chicago Hope, then the hospital
 would be liable, he points out.
          Hancock assures him that she will have the operation,
 explaining that he knows his patient.  "You don't push, she'll
 come around.  You push, she goes away."
          "What if she doesn't come around?" Watters presses,
 adding that he doesn't think Hancock's insurance carrier will be
 too happy with his psychology methods
          Hancock tells Watters he has no insurance carrier.
     "You know what the premiums for this kind of clinic would
 be?" Hancock says.  He could never absorb the cost, because many
 of his patients have no insurance.
          "What if you get sued?" Watters asks.
          Hancock merely shrugs.  "Life's a chance," he says
 glibly.
     Then he asks Watters to leave so that he can see the rest of
 his patients, suggesting he check the waiting room on his way
 out.
     Watters does, and spots Tamara sadly waiting to see Dr.
 Hancock.



          Birch, Geiger, Gilbert and Dr. Goodman have their day
 in court.
          Birch tells Judge Aldrich that there is nothing to
 substantiate the claim that Geiger isn't capable of being her
 guardian, but Aldrich doesn't like the sound of the surgery.
          Birch reminds him they have affidavits from eleven of
 the most esteemed neurosurgeons in the country ratifying the
 legitimacy of the procedure, and seven from Huron's
 psychiatrists, stating that all other remedies had been
 exhausted.
          Judge Aldrich isn't impressed with affidavits, saying,
 "They're generally self-serving, proselytizing pieces of crap
 printed nicely on bond paper.  I'd like a declarant to have
 enough guts to step into my courtroom and say what they have to
 say to my face.
          "Well, I apologize for the affidavit system" Birch
 comments, "and it is tragic that all the judges across this
 country have foolishly bought into the idea."
          "Are you being smug with me, pipsqueak?"  Aldrich
 growls.
          Birch stands, saying, "Judge, allow me to say this
 before declaring to the gallery that I am a toad.  This man is
 Laurie Geiger's husband.  Her loving husband.  He has been her
 caretaker for six long years.  Now, his commitment to her welfare
 cannot be doubted.  Not by anybody.  He's trying to save her from
 an insanity that's robbing her of who she is."
     Gilbert rises.
     "Your honor?  She wants to leave him, so he goes for a
 lobotomy," he tells the judge.  "And that is the very bottom line
 here."
     "Says you,"  Birch says.
     "Yes, says me.  I was there.  I witnessed it," Gilbert
 replies.  "And my credibility in this courtroom is every bit as
 reliable as yours and much more so than his.  This man has been
 emotionally devastated and he's authorizing an extremely
 controversial if not barbaric craniotomy while in the grips of
 his emotional crisis. That is insanity."
     Amid the murmurs, Birch turns to face the gallery.  To the
 backdrop of a prerecorded version of "Take Me Out to the
 Ballgame," he whispers to Gilbert:  "Two outs, bottom of the
 ninth, nobody on, two strikes.  One pitch away from winning the
 first World Series since 19-who-knows-what . . ."
          "This isn't relevant," Gilbert protests nervously.
          "Base hit, another hit, and another hit, two runs
 score, the game is tied. . . " Birch continues.
          "Counsel, what are you doing?" the judge prompts.
          "Stop him," Gilbert pleads.
          " . . . Ground ball, thank God, easy out.  Uh-oh.  Bill
 Buckner. Bill Buckner and the Mets win,"  Birch gloats.
          Gilbert attacks him.



     Dr. Hancock talks to Tamara.  She's a beautiful girl, he
 tells her.  She can't imagine not being beautiful.  But she'd
 rather not be at all if she has to lose her breast--and that's
 exactly the choice she's making, Hancock tells her.  Cancer left
 untreated will kill her.  He knows she knows that and it's why
 she came back.
          Nobody will ever look at her again except to look at
 her like she's some kind of freak, Tamara complains bitterly.
          "You've been my patient for seven years," Hancock says.
 "I've never lied to you and I won't start now.  Some people will
 look at you differently.  You might be pitied as a cancer victim.
 Some boys will find it a sexual turn-off.  It'll be hard at
 first.  Very hard.
          "But you can recover completely," he continues.  "And
 though you might not think so now, you can return to a happy,
 happy life.
     "You can be beautiful," he says, "grow up, get married, have
 kids.  All the dreams that have been out there for you are still
 out there.  I know this sounds like a big doctor's speech, but
 it's true.
          "I ask you to trust that it's true, because you trust
 me."
          "I believe everything you say," Tamara admits, "but
 still . . . it's not like I'll be going to any proms or anything.
 Sounds stupid, doesn't it?" Tamara says quietly.
          "No, not at all," Hancock gently assures her.
          "So when?" she asks, as tears stream down her face.
 "When do we do this?"
          "Tomorrow.  Chicago Hope will do it.  We'll admit you
 tonight."
          Tamara gives her consent.



     Geiger wheels Laurie off the elevator, accompanied by Birch.
          Shutt meets them.
          "So the judge said yes?" he inquires.
          "Yes, Gilbert was winning until he wigged out and
 mugged me," Birch smirks.  "Aldrich ruled in our favor."
          "You're going to do a good job, right?" Laurie asks
 Shutt.
          "I'll do my very best," he promises.
          She tells him she is ready, and Geiger wheels his wife
 to her room, both of them looking scared to death.



ACT FOUR

          Geiger, Shutt, Hancock and Kronk all scrub in for their
 respective operations.
     In his O.R., Shutt grumbles, "It's my procedure.  I should
 be able to choose the music."
     "I thought you loved the Temptations," Geiger says
 vulnerably.
     "That's not the point.  You shouldn't preempt me like that,
 Jeffrey.  It's your wife I'm operating on, you should want me to
 listen to the music of my choice," Shutt says.
     "I thought you loved the Temptations," Geiger explains again
 with an apologetic shrug. "Stop the music."
     Camille enters the room, telling Geiger that Laurie is still
 in her room.  "Evidently she has a visitor.  A man claiming to be
 her fiance."
     "Son of a bitch," Geiger mutters as he rips off his gloves.



          Rock music blares as Kronk operates on Tamara, removing
 the cancerous tissue from her breast.



          Gilbert talks with Laurie in her hospital room.
          "You know I wish you to get better," he tells her
 sadly.  "I just wish they had an operation for me.  No, actually
 I don't.  At Huron, I've been the happiest I've ever been."
          "In an institution?" she asks.
          "It's a community," he explains.  "Lot of good friends,
 food's good . . . even fell in love there."
          "Me too," Laurie says quietly, looking down.
          "What if after the operation you still love me?  Would
 we still have a chance?"
          "I don't know," Laurie says. "They say that when I'm
 sane I won't love you anymore.  So, I don't know."
          Geiger enters.  "Gilbert . . . can I have a second
 alone?"
          "Please don't sing," Gilbert says.
          "I'll try not to."  Gilbert leaves the room, and Geiger
 closes the door.  Gilbert watches through the window until Geiger
 sits next to Laurie on her bed.  Then he turns his back.
          "You really do love him, don't you?" Geiger asks.
          "Yeah."
          "Do you want this operation, Laurie?"
          "I love you, Jeffrey," Laurie says. "I always will.
 You're the most special person I've ever known.  But, I do
 remember us together.  Even before the incident. And the truth is
 . . . that I think I'm happier with Gilbert."
          "I see."
          "I think maybe I belong with Gilbert,"  she says.
     She looks pleadingly at Geiger. He looks away.
          "I have the team assembled downstairs.  I'd better go
 let them know the procedure is canceled," Geiger mumbles.
          "Yeah."
          "I don't want to tie up the room.  So I'll be back."
     He leaves the room.
     After a moment, Laurie calls after him, but he is already
 gone.



     Infante reports from pathology that the nodes were negative.
 "My room now.  Which means, goodbye to the Grateful Dead.  Put on
 some Mozart?  Thanks."



          "OK, people," Geiger tells the assembled surgery team.
 "Procedure's canceled.  Thank you for your time.  You're free to
 go home."
     "What's going on?" Shutt asks him.
          "She opted to stay insane, which might be the sane
 thing to do.  That sound crazy?  Maybe I need the operation."  He
 looks around. "Why are you people still standing here?  Get out,
 get lost, huh?  Go call your accountants."
          He paces the OR
          "What happened?" Shutt presses.
          "She loves Gilbert, she loves me not.  She loves
 Gilbert, loves me not.  Loves Gilbert, loves me not . . ."
          Shutt is at a loss. "OK, Jeffrey," he says, removing
 his mask.  "Are your pants making noise again?"
          "Aaron, I wanna go out and celebrate.  I'm liberated,"
 he explains. "I stood by her.  I was a good husband.  I was there
 for her in every way.  She's chosen to leave *me*.  I'm off the
 hook. I'm free. I want to go out and drink Guinness.  I know how
 the Munchkins felt when that house landed.  I have never been so
 free."
          "Well, we should have a big, big party," Shutt
 comments.
          Geiger is not finished. "It's not like we had a life
 together," he says.  "She was in a nuthouse."
     He begins pacing again, quiet for a moment.  Then he says
 quietly, "She's still my foundation.  I wake up everyday still
 loving her.  How am I going to wake up tomorrow?"
          "You just do,"  Shutt says simply.
          "I never thought of myself as being without her,"
 Geiger mourns.  "It's all for the best. It's really for the best.
 It's a blessing is what it is.  We're all going to be better off.
 It's a great day, really. It's a good, good day."
     "Yeah, a happy day," Shutt agrees sadly, hurting for his
 friend.
     Geiger leaves the room.



     "How big is the scar going to be?" Hancock asks Infante.
     "I'm building the perfect nipple and you're worried about
 scar size.  Five or six centimeters."  To Kronk she remarks, "I
 love Mozart, don't you?"
     "No, I don't," he answers.
     "Suffer," she says.



     Laurie and Geiger are in her room as she prepares to check
 out.
          "This doesn't have to be goodbye, right?" Geiger asks.
          "Of course not," Laurie assures him.  "I'll still need
 you, Jeffrey."
          "Would it be OK for me to need you once in a while?"
          She smiles.  "I'd like that."
          "Love you," he whispers.
          "Love you," she whispers back.
          They kiss awkwardly.
          "Bye-bye, Laurie.  Take care."
     "Yep."



     In recovery, Hancock assures Tamara that Kronk has
 apparently gotten all the cancer, and that he has done a great
 job.
     "What about her?" she questions, referring to the plastic
 surgeon.  "Did she do a great job?"
     "I think you should be the judge," Infante tells her.
     "I'm afraid," Tamara admits.  "I don't think I can."  She
 turns to her mother for guidance.
     "I'm just as scared as you are, sweetie," her mother smiles.

     Infante describes the procedure she had followed to
 reconstruct the breast.
     Tamara says that she is ready.  She is handed a mirror, and
 Hancock opens her gown.  The girl is shocked and delighted.  "It
 looks real.  It looks good. . . . I can't believe it."



          As he wheels her out of the hospital, Gilbert and
 Laurie sing "Carl Yztremski" happily.
          Geiger watches them for a moment, then turns, tosses a
 chart onto the front desk, and walks away down the hall in the
 opposite direction, alone.


END


 YOLETTE'S RANDOM THOUGHTS AND OBSERVATIONS:

"It looks real.  It looks good. . . . I can't believe it,"
 Tamara said. I couldn't believe it either! The young patient's
 breasts were exposed for all to admire on primetime network
 television!

Sure, ''NYPD Blue'' already had made waves by showing nudity on
 broadcast television, but even ''NYPD'' had not yet shown a full
 frontal view of a topless woman, restricting itself mostly to
 full-body shots from the rear.  Yet, for all the flak ABC
 suffered on its voyage into ''adult'' programming,  this
 eyebrow-raising scene in ''Chicago Hope'' caused nary a ripple.
 No protests. No outrage.

But the lack of reaction was not surprising. The nudity was
 handled with a marked clinical detachment, very tastefully done
 and very much in line with the story of a girl's fears of
 deformity due to cancer--a fear many women with breast cancer
 have to come to terms with.

Second season executive producer John Tinker later was heard to
 remark, ''I was surprised that CBS let us do that.''