I love you. Thank you. I forgive you. Please forgive me.
When Dr. Robby extubates Mr. Spencer, setting him up to be as comfortable as possible as he dies, shit gets real for his children, Helen and Jeremy. The panic in the room is palpable. Helen is spiraling. This is it? They’ve just decided their dad is going to die today? It’s Robby who’s left to keep everyone calm. The man’s bedside manner knows no bounds. I mean, there’s cockroaches falling out of people’s ears in the next room and here he is, as serene and kind as can be, teaching the Spencers about Ho’oponopono. He tells them about the Hawaiian healing ritual he learned from a mentor — no doubt, the late Dr. Adamson — and how saying these four phrases to someone, especially as they’re dying, can help ease the early stages of loss. They are the four things that matter most, he tells them: “I love you. Thank you. I forgive you. Please forgive me.” Now, technically the Ho’oponopono prayer is “I’m sorry, please forgive me, thank you, I love you,” which is an interesting thing for a guy who is walking around correcting people on the origin of “Physician, heal thyself,” to get wrong, but we’ll let it slide because he is just trying to help, after all. (With the prayer thing, not with the “Physician, heal thyself” thing; there he’s just trying to be an ass.)
And it does help! The Spencers sit with their father as they wait for the end. To clear space, they’ve been moved into the pediatric room, which is covered in a mural of cartoon forest animals. Robby’s annoyed at the switch, but Helen and Jeremy come to find it a rather moving coincidence: Their father worked in the art department on Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood — a Pittsburgh staple before it went big time — for 33 years. He helped to create the Neighborhood of Make-Believe, so it feels right for his time on this planet to end in a room as close to that as this hospital has. Of course, we learn that Robby’s more upset about it because that’s the same room Dr. Adamson was in while he died from COVID, but this is not about you, Robby! Just kidding, it is a little bit: When the emotions filling up that room and the reminder from that little cartoon fox face get to be too much, Robby does have to flee to the bathroom and try to tamp down a panic attack. I do really feel for the guy — and worry about his mental state, as we are only a few hours into what is shaping up to be a horrific shift — but also this almost panic attack allows Robby a few minutes to finally pee, and I will take my silver linings wherever I can get them around The Pitt, okay? I was really worried about that guy’s bladder!
In the end, both of the Spencer kids get to have their Ho’oponopono moment with their dad, but it is Helen’s that is the most moving. Part of the reason she’s been fighting so fiercely against letting her dad go is because she is ashamed that as a kid she was embarrassed of him and his job and his silly attitude and his world of make-believe. She was so embarrassed and felt so rejected by him, because unlike her brother she wasn’t into fishing or having catches, that she went off to college and didn’t come back. She should have just gone fishing with him and now she’s out of time. She asks for his forgiveness and she forgives him for not always being the dad she needed; she tells him she’s grateful that he was always himself because the world needed that neighborhood of make-believe, and she tells him how much she loves him. She calls him Daddy. Anyway, I am sobbing! I didn’t realize Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood would be invading my peace like this while watching a 2025 medical drama, but here we are.
Robby was right: The ritual is healing. And not just for Helen in regard to her father, but for Helen and Jeremy’s relationship, too. They promise to spend more time together, to be there for each other. And as they consider a day spent out on Jeremy’s boat, their father takes his last breath. That gasp Helen lets out the moment she realizes her father is dead, oh buddy, I know that gasp. If you’ve had to sit there next to a parent in their final days, hours, minutes, this entire story line is such a visceral experience. The Pitt excels at dumping these characters onto our screen and getting us immediately emotionally invested, and I fear it will be my undoing!
While this episode really delivers on these emotionally charged and yet quiet moments with the Spencers, don’t think that the chaos outside those forest animal walls has just stopped. The chaos out there is only growing. Just ask Doug Driscoll, the angry guy with the heart palpitations who has now revealed himself to be a racist, although it’s not much of a surprise. That guy continues to rage over his extended wait time, and I grow more worried the more agitated he gets. But, like, get a grip, my dude! There are people with much bigger problems than his.
Maybe they should make Doug Driscoll stand there next to Mr. and Mrs. Bradley as they walk alongside their son’s gurney while he’s wheeled off to have that cerebral perfusion test, the final test available, one we all, including the Bradleys, know will come back confirming Nick is dead. (Prepare accordingly for this story line to wrap up soon.) Of course, this move happens just as Jenna, the other student from Nick’s study group who took one of the fentanyl-laced Xanax pills, is being discharged with her own parents. She is beside herself that she lashed out at Nick’s dad and does a brave thing by going up to him to apologize. She’s able to shed a little light on what happened — their econ study group was up late studying and having issues with sleep after, and someone suggested Xanax to help — not that it makes it hurt any less. Still, the gesture, and her offer to help them with anything they might need, is a real kindness.
It’s a kindness to the Bradleys, but also, in a way, a kindness to Trinity Santos, who watches that gesture, sees how much pain and anguish Jenna is in, and realizes that, yep, she was in fact kind of a terrible doctor just a few minutes prior when she tried to distract Jenna with questions about extracurricular activities rather than talk to her about how she was feeling. When Dr. Mohan called her out on her terrible bedside manner, Trinity immediately got defensive (it is her way, we know this). Seeing Jenna interact with the Bradleys like this, however, gives her perspective, and she apologizes to Samira for, well, being a dick.
It’s probably a good thing for Trinity to get off of Samira’s shit list, since she seems to have firmly planted herself at the top of Dr. Langdon’s. She pisses him off once again when Wendell Stone arrives with a tension pneumothorax caused by a large speaker he was setting up at a music festival falling on top of him. When Trinity observes Stone having trouble breathing, she immediately goes ahead and orders a bipap to help. She, an intern who has been at this hospital for under four hours, does not run this by anyone else. Well, it turns out a bipap was the exact wrong thing to do here — and has only made the pneumothorax worse. Langdon makes the save and once again has to admonish Trinity for going rogue. She is an intern; she needs to talk to a senior resident or an attending before providing any treatment. She’s already made this mistake more than once, and Langdon is growing increasingly annoyed with her — is Trinity even going to make it through the entire shift? Well, Dr. Garcia still very much has a soft spot for her — Langdon and Robby have both noticed — so she does have at least one ally at the moment.
And hey, at least she isn’t having as bad of a shift as poor med student Whitaker, whom last hour we watched deal with losing a patient and losing his scrubs, only to find him this hour enlisted to help the nurses administer psych meds to a meth addict who has woken up and is thrashing about. Yes, you guys, the Kraken woke up. After the nurses each take a limb to hold down, Whitaker is able to inject the psych meds the guy needs, but not before the man pees all over him. What a fun, sexy time for Whitaker. The kid cannot catch a break.
Discharge Papers
• When Dr. Abbott handed off the ED to Robby, he noted a pregnant teen patient coming in for a medical abortion. In this hour, we meet that pregnant teen and her mom, but it’s Collins who takes over the case. And when she does the ultrasound to make sure they’re in the clear for the meds, something seems off.
• It’s nice to see Victoria Javadi get a little win when she and Dr. McKay treat a trans woman with a gash on her arm from a decanter. Not only does Javadi kick ass on stitching up Tasha, but she also notices Tasha has been misgendered in the computer system — we did watch her get deadnamed in the waiting room — and fixes that issue so it’ll no longer be a problem. You can see how relieved Tasha is by the gesture, and you can see how impressed McKay is that the med student noticed and then took care of the problem.
• Javadi also learns that Dr. McKay is in Alcoholics Anonymous, further adding to her questions about her teacher.
• The ED is abuzz with bets over who stole the rig out of the ambulance bay and, once it makes local news as the rig continues to careen through the city, with bets over just where the thieves will end up. Even sweet social worker Kiara gets in on the action.
• I’ll be haunted by the whole 12-year-old with an imperforate hymen story line for a while. Mel’s description of poor Jia Yi having three months of backed up period blood is a tough thing to shake off! And it’s probably why Dr. Mohan takes the lead when explaining the diagnosis to the pre-teen.
• Hey, look at that. Noah Wyle isn’t just the star and executive producer of The Pitt, but he also wrote this episode! So we can blame him for the tears.