Johnny?
Johnny, it's seven and a half.
You said seven and a half?
The Knick. North on Mott, east on 11th.
Bowery is faster, sir.
Won't have a long wait for the trolleys crossing.
I don't want faster. I enjoy waiting.
Mott north across Houston.
Yes, sir.
Please save my baby.
Gentlemen,
after two uneventful pregnancies,
Mrs. Warren presented in her eighth month
with what is assumed to be a case of placenta previa.
The hope had been to delay any procedure
for the benefit of the fetus.
But circumstance has forced our hand.
Dr. Thackery and I have rehearsed the newest techniques extensively
and feel confident that the speed necessary for success
can finally be achieved.
Surgical knife.
100 seconds.
I want the students to take note that Dr. Christiansen
is entering on the medial line just above the pubis.
We must be careful to extract the fetus quickly
and in such a manner so as not to release pressure on the rupture,
thus exacerbating the hemorrhage.
As you can see, there is significant blood in the cavity.
Vacuum, Everett.
Though it's difficult to see, it seems the fetus
has migrated through the rupture
upward toward the abdomen.
We need to lengthen the incision and get the baby out now.
Jules.
Nurse Monk, knife. Knife.
Bertie, cauterize.
Her pulse is weakening.
- I have a leg. - Pull the fetus down and out.
It's trapped in the cord.
Forceps clamps, umbilical scissors.
Bertie.
Come on, Thack.
Scissors.
- You're free. - Tube it.
More vacuum, Chickering. Put your back into it.
Her pulse has become eccentric.
We still have time. Clamp that artery.
Invert that section, Thack.
There's the bleed.
We can still close the rupture.
Warren's needle and gut.
Dowell's needle and silk.
Good.
Her pulse is faint and fully eccentric.
She's pallid and her lips are blue.
Pedals. One, two, three.
Almost.
Almost. Almost.
There.
The bleeding stopped.
Nothing.
It seems...
it seems we are still lacking.
I hope, if nothing else...
this has been instructive for you all.
We'll solve it.
How many more, Thack?
"And many strokes, though with a little axe,
hew down and fell
the hardest timbered oak."
Thus spake Thack the Wise.
Jules.
The procedure failed. You didn't.
Thank you, my friend.
♪ Isn't it a knobby one? ♪
♪ It's just the proper style. ♪
Fuck it all.
Your god always wins.
It is the longest unbeaten streak
in the history of the world.
Yet J.M. Christiansen fearlessly took up arms
in that battle to oppose the inevitable.
Throwing himself at an enemy that has never known defeat
and, as sure as I'm standing here, never will.
One could not be blamed for wondering if J.M.
came to see his life's work as a fool's errand.
A rube... finally realizing
that the game he's been playing will be forever rigged against him.
But my dear friend J.M. was a fine man
and certainly was no fool or rube.
He and I spent our lives tilting at the very same windmills.
So why have I not lost hope like he did?
Because those windmills at which we tilted
were created by men to turn grindstones
that transformed the Earth's bounty into flour.
From such humble beginnings
grew the astonishing modern world in which we now live.
We cannot conquer the mountains,
but our railroads now run through them with ease.
We cannot defeat the river,
but we can bend it to our will
and dam it for our own purposes.
We now live in a time
of endless possibility.
More has been learned about the treatment of the human body
in the last five years than was learned in the previous 500.
20 years ago, 39 was the number of years
a man could expect from his life.
Today, it is more than 47.
Eventually the train tunnels will crumble.
The dams will be overrun.
Our patients' hearts will all stop their beating.
But we humans can get in a few good licks in battle
before we surrender.
Catherine.
I will not stop pushing forward into a hopeful future.
And with every blow I land,
every extra year I give to a patient...
I will remember my fallen friend
Jules Michael Christiansen...
and know that at the very least,
something, however temporary...
has been won.
Lovely eulogy, Dr. Thackery.
Thank you.
If not a bit self-aggrandizing.
And another chance for him to trumpet his personal war against God.
Good afternoon, Miss Robertson.
- Sister. - Mr. Barrow.
It was a lovely funeral.
As these things go.
The minister was very eloquent, Sister.
Protestants have their moments, too.
Yes.
You should come to one of our Sunday services, Sister.
Very God-fearing.
Good day to you both.
The whole event is just completely tragic
and quite shocking.
Who would have guessed Dr. Christiansen was so hopelessly lost?
12 attempts at the same surgery with no survivors
would drive any good man mad.
Of course.
His anguish is over, but hers is just beginning.
Though I understand he left her a sizable sum.
Enough to keep a widow warm at night?
And to attract the right type of suitor.
She is still a handsome woman.
Always surprised by your sensitivity.
Thank you.
How were the proceedings?
I'm guessing they chose to go closed casket today.
Yes, Mr. Cleary, the casket was closed today.
Ah, well, the worms will be thankful for the extra holes, though.
Saves them from having to make 'em for themselves.
Ah, Sister, don't judge me too harsh.
I'm just a poor simple sinner in the eyes of the Lord.
The Lord loves all His children equally.
Though in your case, Mr. Cleary,
I'm sure He'll make an exception.
Ambulance.
Right.
We got one.
- Good afternoon, gentlemen. - Good afternoon.
Miss Telfer.
My father sends his regrets that he can't be here today,
so I'll be sitting in as his proxy.
Signed by Captain Robertson.
Perhaps we should adjourn, then, till the captain can be here
- and we're able to do this properly. - Yes.
If you strongly object to my father's wishes, Mr. Habershorn,
I will understand if you need to make your apologies and leave.
Then let's get to the business at hand.
I'd like to welcome Dr. Thackery to his first board meeting,
seated in place of the late Dr. Christiansen.
My condolences, Dr. Thackery.
Dr. Christiansen's untimely passing
has brought added strain to the Knickerbocker.
Aside from the public disaster it presents,
it further hampers our efforts at financial solidity.
As you can see, gentlemen, in the published reports in front of you,
monthly costs have increased.
This is due in part to the recent renovations
in the men's and women's wards.
The hospital is now running at a deficit
of nearly $30,000 a year.
Now, in light of this,
I've taken the liberty of postponing
the much needed repairs in the courtyard.
Now, Dr. Thackery,
as you were Dr. Christiansen's Deputy Chief of Surgery,
the board would like you to step into his position as Chief.
We'd be grateful if you'd accept.
I will, though with great regret.
Which means you'll be needing a new deputy.
I'm sure we all agree
that Dr. Gallinger is the right man for the job.
I'm not sure we all agree on that.
My father and I would like you to consider another candidate.
Based on what? Your surgical expertise?
Based on our faith in the man.
Dr. Algernon Edwards. Mr. Barrow.
He received his medical education at Harvard College,
graduating with distinction.
His training was done at Boston Hospital and then Providence.
And he spent the past four years working and instructing
at St. Thomas Hospital in London under Sir William MacCormac,
President of the Royal College of Surgeons
and at the Institut Pasteur in France under Albert Calmette.
He has more knowledge of recent surgical advances
in Europe than any man in the country.
And his return to the States provides us
with a great opportunity, Thack.
Cornelia and her father have prevailed upon him
to travel to New York tomorrow,
as we assumed you would want to meet with him.
He seems very qualified.
Then I shall arrange for him to meet with you.
Arrange or insist?
I think you can find a few minutes
for a candidate of this caliber.
Considering all the Robertsons have done for us,
it would be foolish not to respect their opinion
and entertain the possibility.
Far be it for me to be foolish, Herman.
I will meet the man, but my choice is firm.
It's Gallinger.
Ah, and a good day to you, Pete.
How you doing there, fella?
Got a nice little package there for us?
You're not getting this one, Cleary.
Oh, Pete.
Can't we be reasonable?
Talk about this like gentlemen?
Now, as to my mind,
you can either give us the goods,
or youse can all travel to the Knick as patients.
Hooked a fine one.
Banker from up 5th Avenue.
Liver problems. Jaundice.
Pissing blood, he says.
I'm sure this one will be in a private with us
for a few weeks and be paying his bill in full.
- Nice catch. - That's two more bits for Cleary.
End of the month.
Another beautiful day at the Knick, Nurse Elkins?
Ma'am.
Dr. Gallinger.
This is Mr. Sebastiano Gentile. 40.
On the eighth of this month he was struck by a streetcar,
fracturing his pelvis.
Mr. Gentile, don't you know never to quarrel with a streetcar?
I've never known a man to beat one yet.
I know that now.
Next time, take on one of those horseless carriages.
Much better odds.
Upon arrival, an extensive wound
on the lateral side of his thigh
was immediately stitched and dressed.
Pulse was 112. Abdomen was tympanitic.
And there was tenderness below the umbilicus.
So he was taken into the operating theater,
where we found four puncture wounds
from the fractured pelvic bone lacerating the bowel.
And with Dr. Chickering assisting, we immediately sutured the wounds
using three catgut sutures on each puncture.
Was there any consideration
of removing the damaged section of the bowel?
The difficulty in reconnecting the two new ends
of the intestines seemed too great
and the danger of post-operative bowel leakage
was another complication we discussed.
And I dared not risk a resection.
Any complications thus far?
Mr. Gentile has developed a small case of bronchitis,
which is common after such a procedure.
Very good, Doctor.
Clogs.
Which nurse changed the dressings on this man?
I did.
Per Dr. Gallinger's instructions.
Twice in the past 24 hours
and I emptied his drains throughout the night.
And did you recently empty that one?
I didn't.
It's tended to have collected very little fluid.
And yet the area where the drain exits the wound is swollen.
Perhaps you might have considered clearing the drainage tube of clogs.
How long have you been here?
Almost three weeks.
Then you should already know, Nurse Elkins,
that the goal is to keep the patients alive,
not kill them with negligence
after a surgeon's done his best to save them.
I expect everyone to be well versed in their responsibilities.
I'm sorry.
No, weakness and self-pity have no place on my ward.
If I'm asking too much of you,
you can always take the donkey cart back to Kentucky
and continue in the fine tradition of curing people
with moonshine and angleworm poultices.
Rest up, Mr. Gentile.
You got a lot more trolleys to dodge in your future.
The joke's on Thackery.
He doesn't know you're from West Virginia.
Jesus, Speight.
You sure it's not you with the fucking tuberculosis?
Watch your mouth, Cleary.
There's plenty of other stretcher boys I can call for this.
Health Inspector.
Health Inspector. Open the door, please.
Hmm.
Mrs. Krawetz?
We're here to take you to the hospital. Do you understand?
Hospital.
Hos... hospital.
She has a disease. She must be taken out of here.
Christ alive, it's the Tower of Babel in these shitholes.
Never the same language twice. Hospital!
My father says he doesn't want you taking my mother.
Well, I'm Officer Sears of the New York Police Department
and there is a law that says we have to take her someplace
that'll make her well so she doesn't get you sick, too.
My...
my father says they took our neighbor and he never came back.
Oh, she'll be back and fit as a fiddle.
You watch.
No windows, no ventilation,
no sunlight inside, no running water.
A breeding ground for disease.
That's why the new laws were passed.
I can compel you to make any and all structural changes
to your property I deem necessary to protect the public.
That will cost a fortune.
I'm a businessman.
Blame Lister's microscope and Riis' camera.
The New York City Health Department is just doing its job.
You own two more buildings on this block, don't you?
Perhaps we can come to some other arrangement.
Perhaps we can.
It's the last of the six loads.
Keep your boilers cooking for the next four months.
Three cents a pound?
Sounds good.
That is excellent, Mr. Corker.
Here is a bank draft from the Knickerbocker
for the full amount.
Thank you for choosing Parkhurst.
Mr. Parkhurst is grateful for your business.
And I am grateful for his.
Pardon me, gentlemen.
Where might I find Dr. John Thackery?
- Down there. - Let's go, guys.
Come on.
Dr. Thackery?
Yes.
I was told I could find you here.
I'm Algernon Edwards.
Would you prefer for me to wait in your office?
No, this is fine.
May I ask what it is you're making?
It's an idea for an improvement on an instrument.
A colleague of mine in London was very fond of smelting as well.
In fact, the harelip forceps he modified
is now the standard in Europe.
Well, if I find myself on the Continent
working on a harelip, I will know who to thank.
I'm beginning to think you were not told everything about me.
You envisioned something different, I take it.
Something lighter.
I did.
And to be frank, Dr. Edwards,
I only agreed to this meeting as a courtesy to Miss Robertson,
but I am certainly not interested
in an integrated hospital staff.
My skin color shouldn't matter.
Well, if it doesn't matter, then why was that information held back from me?
You'll have to ask Miss Robertson.
It's also nowhere to be found on your credentials.
Is your race listed on yours?
There's no need for it to be.
I grant that your background is impressive,
and I'm sure there are many Negro infirmaries
that will benefit from your talents,
- But this hospital... - You're here.
This is where I'd like to be.
If you would just give me a chance.
In London and in Paris, I was treated as an equal.
- And I have no doubt... - This is New York.
This is not London or Paris.
You can only run away and join the circus
if the circus wants you.
I don't want you in my circus.
Dr. Edwards.
How was your meeting with Dr. Thackery?
Wonderful if you call being humiliated
in front of a 1,000-degree furnace a meeting.
What do you mean?
Thank your father for me.
I'm going to head back to Boston.
Sorry if I wasted your time.
I certainly wasted mine.
Dr. Edwards.
Algernon.
Miss Robertson.
Dr. Chickering would like to see you.
- Inspector Speight. - Mr. Barrow.
How are things on the streets?
Getting worse every day.
The more boatloads they let in,
the more pestilence infects the city.
I had three cases of tuberculosis just today.
The poor are just weaker than us.
You'd imagine the mayor would want to think about
sending them immigrants elsewhere, but he don't stop 'em.
Shipping companies see to that.
Some of these diseases, they spread so quick,
they wipe out whole blocks of people in just a few days.
We have to burn the bodies. We have no place to put them.
- That a new one of your kids? - Yes.
Handsome-looking family.
Always wanted to have one of those done of me.
And why haven't you?
Don't think I could sit still that long.
What if I had to use the toilet?
Those frames look like they set you back a bit.
Gold leaf?
Where did you say you sent these tuberculosis patients?
The Knick got one.
City's gonna cover the full freight cost since I put her here.
And you want a finder's fee.
Could have easily sent her to St. Vincent's
or Presbyterian.
Next time could be none.
Or it might be all of them.
You know, I like you, Herm.
We're cut from the same cloth.
I like to think not.
It's not good.
The tuberculosis is pretty advanced.
Her lungs are completely full of fluid.
Fever of 104. Pulse is erratic.
Her fingers are clubbing.
Are you recommending a sanitarium stay?
She's already on the other side of the hill, I'm afraid.
I honestly don't think she'll make it through the week.
Does she know?
She doesn't speak English.
Her daughter has been interpreting for me.
I see.
Responsibility is to the patient,
but there's no rule that says we have to...
Hello.
May I ask your name?
- Yetta. - Yetta.
A beautiful name.
Yetta, my name is Miss Robertson.
I'm from the social welfare office of the hospital.
I need your help right now
to explain something to your mother.
All right?
Please tell your mother that the doctor says
her disease has made her very sick.
She will not get better.
She will only get worse.
But the hospital will do all it can
to make her as comfortable as possible.
If there is anything she or your family needs,
we are here to help you.
Does she understand?
She understands.
I'm so sorry.
My mother wants to know what time it is.
It's 4:30.
My mother says I should go
or else I'll be late for my shift.
Keller Shirtwaist Factory on Delancey.
Be sure she gets there safely, Jesse.
Yes, ma'am.
I expected you over an hour ago. What kept you?
Your treatment of Dr. Edwards was indefensible.
No, it was completely defensible.
I'll tell you exactly what I told him.
I'm not interested in leading the charge in mixing the races.
Dr. Edwards is as capable as any doctor in this hospital.
- Likely more so. - Perhaps.
But just as a shopkeeper would never stock an item
on his shelves no customer would buy,
I would not employ a surgeon no patient
will agree to have operate them.
Then patients must be convinced of his ability.
Are you going to stand there and honestly tell me
that the way out of our financial troubles
is to hire a Negro surgeon?
Once people learn that he is an excellent surgeon,
they'll change their minds.
We're speaking about a patient's possible mortality.
Is this really a fair time to begin a social crusade?
- Yes. - We're an institution in dire condition.
We're not an incubator for some progressive experiment
for you and your father's money.
Please, find yourself another hobby.
- Got it? - Yeah.
Do you see what you've done?
The Robertsons are pulling their crews.
They're terminating the electrification project.
Oh, so childish.
No, Thack, you're the child.
We need their money. We need to electrify.
I'm not hiring the Negro.
Do you think I want that dusky coon roaming these halls?
A man of high rank on our staff
who will repel patients?
I need you happy, but right now I need the Robertsons happier.
You know we have no choice.
The man will be hired.
Then I'll resign.
Again?
I want you to stay like that for 20 minutes, Mrs. Eberhardt.
Nurse Connelly will keep massaging your belly.
Trust an old midwife.
That breech baby will turn around in no time
to get away from the cold.
Is this something the doctor prescribed?
He would if he knew what he was doing.
Oh, I envy that cigarette.
Nice and slow. Nice and slow.
Ah, the poor Lord's got all these ladies married to Him
and none will give Him a go.
Hey, do penguins ever just want to go for a good poke?
Oh, we get curious.
But then they show us a photograph of your sorry face
and we all run right back into the arms of God.
Your ugly mug's responsible for more girls
staying virgins than the chastity belt.
How in God's name
are you still going?
I have an insatiable desire for fame.
And, of course...
my old friend
Uncle Parker.
I'd love to have your help for this next part.
Unless, of course, you'd rather go back to sleep.
His temperature is 105
and his pulse is rapid at 166.
He has vomited three times in the last 90 minutes.
I figured his bronchitis was worsening, so I summoned you.
It's not his bronchitis. It's septicemia.
The swelling of the limbs.
The discoloration has started, too.
My repair didn't hold.
He's leaking his own bowel poisons into his blood.
I should have resected.
It would have happened with any surgeon,
Thackery included.
Most of our patients will receive their treatment here
in the men's ward.
Ah, allow me to introduce you
to two of your junior surgeons.
Good morning to you all.
Dr. Everett K. Gallinger and Dr. Bertram Chickering Jr.
This is our new assistant chief surgeon
Dr. Algernon Edwards.
Thackery hired him?
Directed me to do it as of late yesterday.
Everyone calls me Bertie.
Feel free yourself.
Welcome to our circus.
It seems we need to head back inside the tent.
Excuse me.
Septicemia following a bowel repair.
Mm.
We need to go back in and find the leak right away.
We? He is my patient, Doctor, not yours.
We can't go back in. Bronchitis.
The ether will kill him.
Get Dr. Thackery.
I don't believe he's come in yet.
Then find him, please.
Time is precious.
He's dying in front of our eyes.
Surely we can solve this ourselves?
- You'll solve nothing. - Doctor.
He needs an immediate resection.
Two slippery pieces of bowel, wet noodles
somehow sutured perfectly together
while septic fluids leak all over the cavity
poisoning the patient.
That is if we are somehow able to bring about
surgical sleep without killing the man.
- Nurse Elkins. - Yes?
Bertie and I will prepare Mr. Gentile for the surgery.
I need you to find Dr. Thackery. Try his home first.
We don't have a minute to spare. Now, excuse me.
Lucy, do you know where he lives?
- No. - 28 Waverly.
Lucy, do you know where that is?
No.
West, then left on Wooster Street towards Washington Square.
Welcome to the Knick.
Dr. Thackery?
Dr. Thackery, you're urgently needed for a procedure.
Good Lord, Dr. Thackery.
Go away.
Please go away.
Dr. Gallinger sent me.
A patient is dying.
Which one?
Mr...
Mr. Gentile.
He has septicemia.
Oh, fucking Gallinger.
What's wrong with you? Are you sick?
I was trying to spend a night without it.
Without what?
Nurse, I need your assistance.
You need to inject me.
I can't do it.
Cocaine?
How much? I don't want to kill you.
A touch more than 22.
You've destroyed yourself, Doctor.
- You're collapsed everywhere. - Toes.
- They're too small. - Not for me. It's fine.
- I don't think I can. - Oh, for God's sake.
- What are you doing? - You want a bigger vein?
- You want me to inject your... - Yes, on the underside.
The urethral.
Nurse.
Do it!
Lord forgive me.
Gentlemen, atomizers on.
Everyone scrubbed, washed, cleansed,
deloused, purified by God?
- All except the last, Thack. - What's he doing here?
- You hired him. - I'm here to assist in the surgery.
- He's not touching me. - Don't worry, Mr. Gentile.
He won't be. Everett, you'll be assisting me.
Bertie, you'll back up Everett.
Thack, we can't use ether on account of his lungs
and we can't operate on a man who's awake.
I know. I was considering this on the way in.
You could try Nirvanin on the abdomen.
There's some success in Germany.
In dental surgery. For something like this,
it won't penetrate to the necessary depth.
Nurse Elkins, would you prepare a spinal needle
and a hypodermic of 10 of a 2% cocaine solution?
Are you not familiar with the drug?
I am.
Then prepare it. I didn't hire him.
Barrow forced him upon me. He's the new assistant chief.
I was told you had decided to offer me the position.
Well, if Barrow told it to you, you should know
there is never likely to be much truth in it.
I will not stay where I'm not wanted.
Then I'm guessing you don't stay anywhere for very long.
As per my oath, I will remain in the theater
until the patient is out of danger.
And then I will resign.
Congratulations, Everett, on your new promotion.
Mr. Gentile, we're going to sit you up.
- Everett, Bertie. - Uh, what are we doing?
Sit him up. Arch his back forward.
Nurse Monk, pencil, sponge with antiseptic.
Gentlemen, before you is a patient
who is infected with septicemia from his bowel.
Normally, we would induce surgical sleep with ether,
but due to a severe case of bronchitis
he has developed post-operatively, we cannot.
We must operate, but we cannot do it to a man who can feel pain.
My solution...
numb the nerves in the spine
between the thoracic vertebrae six and seven
so as to stop the brain from learning of the pain.
I intend to inject a 2% cocaine solution
directly into Mr. Gentile's spinal canal.
Low enough not to affect the heart and lungs,
high enough to dull everything below.
My God, won't that paralyze him?
Not if he makes for the hollow canal in the sub-arachnoid space.
It's been tried once before
on a Labrador retriever.
What happened?
There isn't a day goes by
where I don't miss that dog.
If you could attempt to suppress your cough.
Just a few seconds more.
Let's get him back down.
He's a madman.
"Though this is madness,
yet there is method in it."
No pain.
Scalpel.
Gauze.
Towel.
Here's the location of my repairs.
Your sutures failed in two spots
where the obstruction backed up with pressure on them.
- You should have resected. - I know that now. I'm sorry.
Dr. Edwards, before you resign and leave us all in tears,
would you be kind enough to go to the sterilizer
and pass me the metal device contained within?
I'm now removing approximately 12 inches
of the patient's intestines
to relieve a blockage and some damage.
From this day forth, Mr. Gentile,
you will have the honor of evacuating your bowels
several seconds faster
than any of your friends.
Watch carefully, Bertie.
You're gonna want to tell your father all about this.
After the bad section of the bowel is removed,
each new end of the intestine
can be clamped together into this device
which allows it to keep its tubular contour and shape.
I now tighten the screw
to bring the two new ends together.
And we're in good stead
for an easy connection
with sutures.
When I finish this, you close, Everett.
Nice knowing you, Doctor.
I'm not leaving this circus
until I learn everything you have to teach.
Chinatown.
- 467 Mott Street. - Yes, sir.
Yah.
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