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November 22, 2003
Rocket Man
"I know most people don't like me. I don't care. I don't like most people."
You were, by all accounts, a total asshole. You took pleasure in offending your colleagues and embarrassing everyone around you. You yelled at med students, grabbed the nurses asses, demoralized residents, undermined attendings, and were rude to absolutely everybody. No one was safe. You even told Kerry Weaver that you had your fingers crossed when you took the Hippocratic oath. You were gleefully malicious, and there was something strangely attractive in how much we all wanted to strangle you sometimes.
You were a chauvinist, a bigot, a homophobe, and dammit we loved you.
"I’m beginning to think that ER stands for 'everyone’s retarded'. I mean it's honestly a wonder you all find your way to work every day."
Who could have known that your life would end in a blaze of fire on Thursday night? How could we have guessed that the same instrument of torture that severed your arm not 2 years ago would come crashing down upon you - even as you fled from it into the ambulance bay. It was a shock to say the least. We all screamed in disbelief, and then whimpered in stunned sadness at the thought that you were actually gone. Really, we should have known. It was only just before they killed you off that the show's producers would dare include the inevitable "Talk to the (robotic) hand" joke ... eh.
The Emergency Room docs are none the wiser, having not even pulled the helicopter off your cremated corpse. You didn't die with honor as I would have hoped, saving some cripple from burning to death in a building or something appropriately heroic. Instead, you died screaming in fear. You died under a pile of fiery, razor-sharp metal. Adding insult to injury, your last few efforts to *improve* the hospital will go unheeded and unheard by your survivors. You were a bastard, Romano, and I just don't see how the ER is going to get by without you.
"If wishes were horses, then we'd all be knee deep in crap."
But you weren't always the "horrid little turd" that everyone makes you out to be. True, you were exactly that a solid 99.5% of the time we saw you, but occasionally we could catch something human seep out the side of your hardass exterior. You couldn't fool us all the time, Robert. That's what made you so interesting, so great. You were a mean little man with a lot to compensate for, and a very tart way of doing it. You got angry, defensive, scared, and so very occasionally you were even sweet. (Never sensitive, though, that's not your style.) It was always very fun to watch you work.
"Yeah ... there might be a brand new Hyundai behind door #1, but odds are it's really just a jackass and a thousand pounds of elbow macaroni."
Well it looks like it's Macaroni for you this time. Farewell, Doctor. We'll miss you a lot. You miserable little prick.
Posted by kati at November 22, 2003 05:55 PM
Comments
a helicopter always finishes what it starts...
Posted by: Kelly at November 24, 2003 05:07 PM
Once they get a taste of human blood, you might as well put them down, because they'll never forget, and they'll never rest.
Posted by: sean at November 24, 2003 07:07 PM