(Note: This piece does contain spoilers for Chicago Med, Chicago PD, This Is Us, and Scorpion. Read at your own risk.)
I'm trying to count how many "fandoms" I'm part of. For the uninitiated, a "fandom" is a grouping of fans of a particular TV show, movie, book series, etc.
"Fan" can also stand for "fanatic", and in the case of certain fandoms, "fanatic" is appropriate.
I'm a Whovian, a fan of the show Doctor Who. When a new doctor arrives or a new companion is announced, inevitably, there are the shrieks of, "This show is ruined forever!!"
When Peter Capaldi was announced as the new doctor, cries of outrage sounded around the fandom. "Him? He's too old! Doctor Who is ruined forever!"
But Capaldi, in my opinion, has turned out to be a good doctor, and several of the episodes of his run do make you think.
And the companions . . . oh, don't get the fandom started.
"Rose! I loved her!" "Hated her!" "Clara was wonderful!""She was a disaster!"
The latest companion, Bill, is a pleasant surprise. She's been called a "refreshing change" from recent companions.
I'm also a "sestra", the name of the Orphan Black fandom. This BBC series follows a group of women who discover that they are clones of each other. All of them are played by Tatiana Maslany, and she does it so well that you forget it's the same actress playing each person.
"I love Sarah!" "No, Cosima!" "Don't forget Helena!"
My best friend is a member of the Bones fandom. I don't follow Bones very much, although I did turn in for the last episode, which showed Bones and Booth walking off into the night together. During the series, when Booth was involved with another woman, that "other woman" was universally hated by Bones fans--to the point of several fanfics killing off that character!
My son turned me on to the Chicago franchise (Chicago Fire, Chicago PD, Chicago Med.) When #Linstead--Erin Lindsey and Jay Halstead--finally got together, the fandom cheered . . . and then, recently, suffered heartbreak when Jay discovered he was still legally married to someone he thought he was divorced from. Now, #Linstead is separated.
And, over on Chicago Med, another Halstead--Dr. Will, Jay's brother--has an interest in Dr. Natalie Manning (#Manstead) . . . and when he's finally expressed himself, she just says they're good friends . . . and Jay Halstead has been hanging around the hospital lately . . . and in a recent episode, he and Natalie went to a hockey game together . . . so, #manstead may happen, but it will be at the risk of alienating a large segment of fans!
After three seasons, fans of Scorpion finally have #Waige (Walter and Paige) together . . . just in time for the plane they're on to crash, with the entire Scorpion team aboard.
And probably, the biggest howls from the fandoms I follow came from fans of the show This Is Us. Over the first season, the story of the Pearson family has been slowly unfolding. We've learned of the past of the "Big Three" (the Pearson triplets), have followed them into their present relationships, and we've wondered how, when Rebecca and Jack had such a wonderful love story, why did she marry his best friend after he died?
And THE biggest question, which led to THE biggest howl of the TV season:
"Why didn't the season finale tell us how Jack died???"
Never, in the history of TV or of fandoms, has there been such disappointment over a character NOT dying.
Each member of each fandom has their own opinion about how a show should go down, and woe be unto the creators, writers, and producers if any member is crossed!
The season finales of several shows are coming up. I strongly suggest that you get earplugs and HAZMAT outfits to protect yourselves from the howls and the mudslinging of the various fandoms when season finales do not go the way each fandom member thinks they should.
Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.
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Showing posts with label Chicago Med. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chicago Med. Show all posts
Thursday, May 4, 2017
Thursday, March 23, 2017
"I didn't even see that he was drowning."
Dr. Jason Wheeler began Monday morning walking through the doors of Gaffney Chicago Medical Center and making his usual turn into the emergency department, where he worked. He greeted his fellow co-workers and was greeted by them, with a comment by a nurse that he was needed in three.
He reassured her that he'd be there in a minute.
He boarded an elevator and rode up to the 10th floor.
Upon getting off, he calmly walked to an outside balcony and stepped up onto a ledge, where he looked down at the street and the people walking to and fro.
And then he casually stepped off the balcony.
This all happened in the first 90 seconds of "Monday Mourning," the Chicago Med episode aired on March 16th.
The opening sequence was shocking, stunning, and meant to be that way. I mean, it was an ordinary, casual good-morning sequence, showing someone on his way to his normal duties as an ER resident, ending in his suicide.
Dr. Wheeler had had problems for some time. He drank, and at one point, asked psychiatry resident Sarah Reese for pills and for therapy. She turned him down.
Even in the shock of Dr. Wheeler's suicide, the ER department must go on. After all, people are not going to stop getting sick and getting hurt just so the ER department can grieve. So the staff went about their normal day as best they could, while occasionally stopping to wonder, how could they have missed that something was so wrong with a colleague?
The ER borrowed Dr. Reese, the psychiatry resident (and former ER med student) to help out. During her treatment of a man who'd jumped into an icy river to save a little boy drowning--and who himself suffered a heart attack right after he did so--she asked, what went through your mind?
Dr. Connor Rhodes, heart specialist, overheard that conversation.
Dr. Reese said, he--referring to Dr. Wheeler--came to me for help and I brushed him off.
Dr. Rhodes tries to reassure her, saying, you can't save everyone.
And that's when Dr. Reese replies with, "It's not that I didn't jump in to save him. It's that I didn't even see he was drowning."
Of all of the lines, of all of the scenes of "Monday Mourning", that was the one that hit me. I didn't even see that he was drowning.
We don't see, do we? How many of us see that someone is "drowning" and reach out a lifeline to help?
It's impossible to see if someone is drowning if we're not looking at the water, so to speak. It's also impossible to see if someone is drowning if the drowning person isn't screaming for help, waving their arms, trying to get someone's attention.
While Dr. Reese berated herself for not seeing that Dr. Wheeler was "drowning", she redeemed herself at the end of the episode. She went to the office of Dr. Daniel Charles, head of the psychiatry department, and said, everyone talks to you and you absorb it all like a sponge. How are you doing with all this?
His response: "It was awful."
I've talked off and on (and maybe "on" more that "off") about my own circumstances here. There are times I've felt like I was "drowning". I think I use this blog as a cry for help at times. It's a way that I process things that are happening to me, things that I observe, things that I think and feel. Often, I write "off the cuff" and don't always go back and edit before I hit "publish".
It's tempting to use this episode of Chicago Med as a way to talk about how I often feel I am "drowning". But, unlike Dr. Wheeler, I've been able to get the help I need. For whatever reason, Dr. Wheeler was either unable or unwilling to say the words, "I am drowning. I need help." It's hard, especially in a helping profession like medicine, to say, "I need help." At least one character in "Monday Mourning" made that observation. Asking for help, too often, is perceived as a sign of weakness, like you need a "crutch" to help you. And if you're a helper, why, then, do you need help?
I've been lucky. I have access to medical/psychological help. I see someone twice a month, and I take my meds faithfully. And I have people I talk to.
So, let me ask the question:
Who out there is drowning?
Are you drowning?
And how can I throw you a lifeline?
Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.
(The number for the National Suicide Prevention Hotline is 1-800-273-8255. If you're ever drowning, this is a good lifeline to grab onto.)
He reassured her that he'd be there in a minute.
He boarded an elevator and rode up to the 10th floor.
Upon getting off, he calmly walked to an outside balcony and stepped up onto a ledge, where he looked down at the street and the people walking to and fro.
And then he casually stepped off the balcony.
This all happened in the first 90 seconds of "Monday Mourning," the Chicago Med episode aired on March 16th.
The opening sequence was shocking, stunning, and meant to be that way. I mean, it was an ordinary, casual good-morning sequence, showing someone on his way to his normal duties as an ER resident, ending in his suicide.
Dr. Wheeler had had problems for some time. He drank, and at one point, asked psychiatry resident Sarah Reese for pills and for therapy. She turned him down.
Even in the shock of Dr. Wheeler's suicide, the ER department must go on. After all, people are not going to stop getting sick and getting hurt just so the ER department can grieve. So the staff went about their normal day as best they could, while occasionally stopping to wonder, how could they have missed that something was so wrong with a colleague?
The ER borrowed Dr. Reese, the psychiatry resident (and former ER med student) to help out. During her treatment of a man who'd jumped into an icy river to save a little boy drowning--and who himself suffered a heart attack right after he did so--she asked, what went through your mind?
Dr. Connor Rhodes, heart specialist, overheard that conversation.
Dr. Reese said, he--referring to Dr. Wheeler--came to me for help and I brushed him off.
Dr. Rhodes tries to reassure her, saying, you can't save everyone.
And that's when Dr. Reese replies with, "It's not that I didn't jump in to save him. It's that I didn't even see he was drowning."
Of all of the lines, of all of the scenes of "Monday Mourning", that was the one that hit me. I didn't even see that he was drowning.
We don't see, do we? How many of us see that someone is "drowning" and reach out a lifeline to help?
It's impossible to see if someone is drowning if we're not looking at the water, so to speak. It's also impossible to see if someone is drowning if the drowning person isn't screaming for help, waving their arms, trying to get someone's attention.
While Dr. Reese berated herself for not seeing that Dr. Wheeler was "drowning", she redeemed herself at the end of the episode. She went to the office of Dr. Daniel Charles, head of the psychiatry department, and said, everyone talks to you and you absorb it all like a sponge. How are you doing with all this?
His response: "It was awful."
I've talked off and on (and maybe "on" more that "off") about my own circumstances here. There are times I've felt like I was "drowning". I think I use this blog as a cry for help at times. It's a way that I process things that are happening to me, things that I observe, things that I think and feel. Often, I write "off the cuff" and don't always go back and edit before I hit "publish".
It's tempting to use this episode of Chicago Med as a way to talk about how I often feel I am "drowning". But, unlike Dr. Wheeler, I've been able to get the help I need. For whatever reason, Dr. Wheeler was either unable or unwilling to say the words, "I am drowning. I need help." It's hard, especially in a helping profession like medicine, to say, "I need help." At least one character in "Monday Mourning" made that observation. Asking for help, too often, is perceived as a sign of weakness, like you need a "crutch" to help you. And if you're a helper, why, then, do you need help?
I've been lucky. I have access to medical/psychological help. I see someone twice a month, and I take my meds faithfully. And I have people I talk to.
So, let me ask the question:
Who out there is drowning?
Are you drowning?
And how can I throw you a lifeline?
Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.
(The number for the National Suicide Prevention Hotline is 1-800-273-8255. If you're ever drowning, this is a good lifeline to grab onto.)
Saturday, December 3, 2016
Hey, Siri! . . . uh, never mind . . .
Matthew was asking me just now about the promo music to the Chicago franchise (Chicago Med, Chicago Fire, Chicago PD, and soon to be Chicago Justice).
I said, it all depended on which Chicago series you were talking about as to whether or not I knew the promo music.
I was sitting right next to my iPad when I said it.
Suddenly, Siri pipes up with: "Okay, here's the current weather in Chicago!"
Matthew immediately said, "No, no, no, no!" while I was too busy laughing!
Moral: Either turn off your iPad when you're talking to your son. Or be careful what you say.
Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.
I said, it all depended on which Chicago series you were talking about as to whether or not I knew the promo music.
I was sitting right next to my iPad when I said it.
Suddenly, Siri pipes up with: "Okay, here's the current weather in Chicago!"
Matthew immediately said, "No, no, no, no!" while I was too busy laughing!
Moral: Either turn off your iPad when you're talking to your son. Or be careful what you say.
Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.
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