First and foremost, this is a show where each season follows one single ED shift and never has (and maybe never will) shown these people's lives beyond PTMC. This necessarily means that if the show wants to depict any part of Frank's recovery process, it has to happen on shift. The commentary about how making amends at work is inappropriate might be a hell of a lot more persuasive if the show's format isn't what it is. So you're either going to see parts of his recovery, or you're not, and for many of these relationships, it's important to show Frank making amends. Could he wait until after a shift to do so? Sure, but it would be silly to have him make amends to 4+ characters in the final 10 minutes of the finale, c'mon.

The other thing I haven't seen mentioned in this discussion is that no one contacted Frank for 10 months, and he wasn't actually supposed to be on shift today. Imagine blowing up your entire career, making a mess of your key workplace relationships (Dana and Robby), and then getting radio silence from every co-worker you've worked beside for three years at a job you've prioritized over your family. That's an extra cut on top of all the shame feeding Frank's anxiety. He's walking back into a space and doesn't know what a single person thinks of him because they never reached out. I think it's fairly easy to see why that would lend itself to him not handling this with grace in normal circumstances.

But, this isn't a normal circumstance. He got called in on a day he didn't expect to work. So not only does he not know what to expect and probably imagines the worst-case scenario from everyone, because, again, they never called, but he has to confront all this on a day he was completely unprepared for. Was it coming? For sure. That's not the same as knowing that on X day you'll have to deal with this. The opening scene, where he's meditating, suggests he's starting his day rattled.

This isn't to say that he's handling step 9 particularly well. Yes, he's speed-running it, and maybe that comes off as disingenuous, and it's definitely not elegant. Though I'm not sure anyone would be particularly happy with a beautifully rehearsed exemplar of Step 9 every time he tries either. That's not realistic. People are people, and they fuck up with each other all the time. We know that Frank is good at reading one (1) person from the jump (Mel) and can't even understand his wife's needs, who he's been with for at least five years in s1.

It's a perfect storm of uncertainty, lack of immediate preparation, and not being the greatest at interpersonal dynamics.

I do think it's important to show that the people you've hurt don't owe you forgiveness, so in that sense, I don't hate, in theory, the choice for Robby to not be ready to accept Frank's apology. Is Frank forcing the amends conversation on him? Hell yeah. Should he? No, not at all. (Though please see the narrative constraints issue above). Frank isn't in the right here.

However, Robby isn't his friend by his own admission; he's his boss. In some sense, they need to have a discussion about the very illegal thing he did at work and his substance use disorder in a place full of substances. However, Robby is avoiding him (and retaliating/discriminating, but I'm not touching that). Frank is doing everything he asked, and he met enough requirements to be allowed to return to work. Whatever else he is, Frank is a good doctor. We spend the first six episodes of the season focused on just how good he is. Dana even says he made the exact calls Robby would have made. Frank is confident to go toe-to-toe with Robby on treatment plans.

Why I think Robby's response on the helipad is particularly fucked up is because (a) it's not his ED, and (b) he's rattling the confidence of an incredible doctor at a moment where the ED is overflowing and nearing a crisis. Frank was shaken and forgot basic treatment decisions (e.g., when to transfuse blood) in the trauma room. Robby's little fuck-you is putting patients' lives in danger by taking a competent doctor and calling everything he thinks about himself into doubt. There's no time for Mel to handhold him through every single patient he treats. He's going to make wrong calls. He's going to screw up. Robby's going to use that to feed the fire of his anger.

Noah Wyle’s Love Letter to L.A. for Architectural Digest

“I spent most of my childhood in this building,” says Noah Wyle, seated at Craft Contemporary, the museum founded by his grandmother, artist Edith R. Wyle, in 1973. “The memories come back like torrents.” But as the Emmy-winning star of The Pitt reflects, the organization is just as meaningful in terms of its cultural significance to Los Angeles. Craft Contemporary, he notes, “is a meeting place where people can come and talk, share ideas, debate ideas, and experience other cultures.”

For the March LA issue, AD asked 12 iconic Angelenos to take us somewhere meaningful. This time, everyone’s favorite doctor makes a house call at Craft Contemporary (@craftcontemporary).