Suicidal Ideation and Friendship in The Pitt

Warning: Discussion of Suicidal Ideation and Spoilers for The Pitt S1E1. Please take care of yourself.

When I started watching The Pitt, one of the things that hit me out of the park was when in the beginning of the pilot episode, you have a scene with two people on a roof, one of them talking the other down from letting go. I cannot tell you how hard that resonated when I saw it.

Our initial point of view character is Dr. “Robby” Robinavitch, chief attending at Pittsburgh Medical Trauma Center, walking into the Emergency Department to start his shift. He’s looking for his Night Shift counterpart and can’t find him down in the Pitt, so he heads up to the roof.

We get context clues via body language and dialogue that tells us that this isn’t the first time this has happened. We understand that there’s a history here (specifically between these two characters) displayed in how the charge nurse tells Dr. Robby, “Think he’s getting some air.”

The “he” in this case is referring to Dr. Jack Abbot, who is on the wrong side of the railing on the roof, staring out at the sunrise. The dialogue from the script below sketches out a brilliant moment.

ROBBY: Whatchya doing, Jack? (no response) Pretty busy down there.
ABBOT: Had a guy come in hit by a drunk driver in a cross-walk. Thirty nine year-old veteran. Survived three tours without a scratch. I spent the last two hours coding him.
ROBBY: That’s always a tough way to end the night. Why don’t you come and walk me through what you’ve left for me.
ABBOT: I must have had a reason at some point. But I can’t think of it.
ROBBY: Reason for what?
ABBOT: To keep coming back.
ROBBY: Because this is the job that keeps on giving. (off his look) Nightmares, ulcers, suicidal tendencies…Besides, if you jump on my shift–well, that’s just rude.
Abbot shares a look with Robby before coming back over to the right side of the railing.
ABBOT: I hope I’m never one of your patients.
ROBBY: That makes two of us, my friend.

It was a crap shift for Abbot and he’s very literally looking down and out on a ledge. One wrong move and it’s over. Something happened to trip the minefield in his head and he knows it. What’s more is that he knows what will happen if he does take that step, especially given his profession. He’s seen shit, done shit, and he’s tired. His bearing gives us that, the slight slump of his shoulders, the thousand yard stare. This man has been riding that raggedy edge and the exhaustion shows. We get the inference that Abbot is also a veteran and he’s taking this loss a little more personally than he otherwise might.

Robby is coming in to a bit of a mess because night shift was also down several people which affected wait times and triage. He’s got administrative duties on top of the medical responsibilities. He needs to know what happened overnight that he’s going to need to be aware of, what complications, all of that. His shift is just beginning and he’s already tired. However, here on the roof, he listens to Abbot without judgment, he’s physically present, he keeps that dialogue open. He’s also not above pulling a slight guilt trip at the very end as only a good friend could.

It’s important to note that none of it is played for melodrama. It’s not overdone for extra theatricality/shock value. It’s not blown off or dismissed after. It’s played straight. As someone with depression, who has dealt with suicidal ideation off and on, I struggle to adequately convey how much this meant to me. Because this is how it actually goes from someone who has been on both sides of that equation. Suicidal ideation, passive or active, is hard as hell to explain to people who haven’t walked this walk.

This representation means a lot.

One of the first things my psychiatrist asked me for during my initial intake appointment was if I had people I called when I was in crisis and if so, how many were on that list. He wanted to make sure I had someone besides my own self for when the moments got really tough and that external voice/presence was needed to break through. I was fortunate to have a list of people that I a) trusted b) could/would/did call in a crisis.

The way that Robby and Abbot interact, the lack of judgment, the presence, the de-escalation, the trust between the two of them. To see the moment that Abbot decides to let Robby convince him to step back over to the right side of the railing and that acknowledgement that mental health stuff happens to anyone and everyone and it’s not something to be ashamed about.

That meant the world.

There are people without whom I would not be here. I know others can say the same thing for me. If this hits a chord with you and you don’t know or have people you can hit up when stuff gets dark, please know that I think the world is better with you in it and that my socials are open if you need someone to talk to. You aren’t a burden. I promise you that.

The Pitt can be watched on HBO Max, new episodes Thursdays at 9/8 Central.

Grief is so weird. Or how a game broke my heart a little.

So, I play-test mobile games, one of which is a garden design game, and it’s a great little game. It’s fun, very zen, and very low stress. It uses real life locations which can be fascinating and the way they have it set up, you wind up learning a lot more than you think. As someone who cannot enjoy gardens in real life because of allergies, it’s that much more delightful for me personally.

So yesterday, I logged in and was going through the daily designs and watering my plants and voting for the designs I liked the best out of the ones up for voting. One of the daily challenges caught my eye because it was set somewhere I was familiar with (not unusual for me with how I’ve ping ponged around the Americas) and just the sense-memory of having been there and then the upswell of grief hit me out of nowhere.

The place was where my former? ex? braintwin/soulmate/QPP lived. I’d gone out to visit them and gotten to see around. It had been a marvellous trip. There are question marks above because I’ve never gotten closure on what happened there. They were there one day and then gone the next. Internet presence scrubbed – no forwarding address. We were exceptionally close for all that we rarely got to be in the same state. Talk every day except for meals and sleep sort of close. We never bothered labeling our relationship. When I am feeling particularly maudlin, the closest description I get is Blue and Red from This Is How You Lose The Time War.

It was such a small thing. Just a city name and state in tiny font in a mobile game. The rush of grief and anger and loss swept over me and left me a little unstable on the couch for a moment. For a moment, everything felt so fresh again and then it receded like the water before a tsunami waiting for that next whatever to come flooding in again.

It’s been 9 years and I still miss them.

Fannish_Fifty Challenge for 2023

So one of the things I am doing in 2023 is the fannish_fifty challenge – where you post about fannish and fandom things once a week for fifty weeks. It sounded fun so I signed up for this year. It’s very casual but I think just having the structure will be helpful. I’ve decided to not choose a firm theme at the moment, but that will likely change as we go.

It officially starts on Jan 2nd of 2023. Come back then to see what the first week’s post will be.

Hostages

A four episode documentary about the Iranian Hostage Crisis and despite having a pretty good understanding (so I thought) about this event, this show knocked me for six. It was impressively well done – they approached it objectively and interviewed both the hostages and the hostage-takers.

Watching this series gave a deeper understanding of the events surrounding the hostage crisis – the geopolitical and historical context as well as being able to see the footage from back then with those involved to the elder selves commenting back on that time.

Do not give this one a miss. It is well worth your time.

Fandom Firsts

Fandom Firsts/First Introductions have been on my mind a lot this summer. It’s been the kind of summer where work-life balance is a joke when it comes to my day job. All I’ve done besides work is ponder stuff and occasionally watch something on television. Mostly rewatching comfort stuff because that’s all I’ve had the spoons for. I was rewatching Babylon 5 season one with my dad and it hit me when we got to the first Bester episode that this show was my first introduction to Walter Koenig as an actor. My parents knew him first as Chekov from Star Trek, but I wasn’t introduced to the Star Trek movies and original series until several years after I’d found B5. Seeing him as Chekov was a hell of a headtrip that first time, I kept expecting him to be working some kind of angle or having a shady plan (Dad was particularly amused by this).

Same thing happened much later on as my nerd household started watching Falling Skies and it took me a couple of episodes to place where I’d seen Colin Cunningham who played John Pope before ( I keep forgetting IMDB is a thing ya’ll. I remember a time before it) and that was an even bigger headtrip. Cunningham played Major Paul Davis on Stargate SG-1 who is a character that was a direct opposite to Pope in just about every possible way. It’s still kind of a headtrip when I watch episodes of either series. Cunningham’s range is great.

Or how, since I was a Disney Afternoon kid, getting introduced to the “Indiana Jones” kind of character via Chip ‘n Dale: Rescue Rangers years and years before I ever actually saw Raiders of the Lost Ark. Same with the “Magnum P.I” character type. Granted 90’s Cartoons were a million times smarter than they had to be (and a lot of them still hold up which will never not be hilarious and amazing) and a lot of them were packed full of references and visuals that would not necessarily make sense to the target demographic but would be fun easter eggs or references to their parents. I mean The Mighty Ducks: The Animated Series had several episodes that were spoofs or parodies of popular movies (including but not limited to Die Hard and Pulp Fiction). In a cartoon. On the *Disney* Channel.

These are all just a handful of examples – this post could go on forever if I tried to list them all out. Tell me about some of your Fandom Firsts/First Impressions in the comments!

In The Heights (film)

I finally got to see the In The Heights movie. Never gotten a chance to see it live on Broadway and it hasn’t been here on a traveling tour that I know of, so this was the first time I really had gotten to experience the story (I am aware of the criticisms that had come up around the film version and I agree with them, but this wasn’t an opportunity I could pass up. I am glad I didn’t.

It was going to be good, no doubts on that front. I knew that it was going to be moving and emotional because that’s what Lin and Quiara and Alex and everyone else associated with the film or show is really really good at doing. I knew all these little bits of trivia about it because of my falling headlong down the Hamilton rabbit hole a couple of years ago.

All of this I knew and expected it.

I did not expect that it would make me homesick to the point of tears. The kind of saudade that bowls you over like a tsunami wave and leaves you with an aching head, buckled knees, and the inability to breathe for all of the sheer feeling that is going through you.

There are days where I miss Brasil so much I can barely function. I miss the communidade and the familia and the food. I miss the way everything is so vibrant and colorful and like Usnavi says, the streets are made of music.

If you have a chance before July 11th, maybe give the film a shot. It is a very enjoyable film.

Hope Wins.

It’s been a couple of hours since we got the official call and I am still shaking with the force of sheer relief and emotion running through me- that we won. We pulled it out and Love WON ya’ll, Hope WON. It may not have been the exact blowout that some were hoping for, but we got it done. Our BIPOC carried us over the line in Arizona and Georgia and in Philadelphia. Sex workers carried us over the line in Nevada. We don’t have to suffer that man in the government anymore, polluting everything he touches.

Biden and Harris are our next President and Vice President.

The work is by no means done. We still need to push the same way we have been for the changes we want to see in the world. A little under half the country still voted for him. We still have 2 months before the changeover. They’ve already shown up with their guns and their threats and their itchy trigger fingers. White brothers and sisters need to be standing in front of our BIPOC people. Do no harm but take no shit. Do not concede an inch. Make a plan for a safe place to go if things go pear-shaped, buy some extra groceries just in case.

Today, take a deep breath. Then we get back to it. President Biden and Madam Vice President Harris have a long and hard job ahead of them. We have to rebuild the Executive Branch. We have to focus on the GA runoffs so that we can take back the Senate and Congress will be Dem Majority again. We need to get this pandemic under control.

Take courage, friends. We won battles all over, but the struggle is not over yet. Take heart, love won. Hope carried the day.

New Liver, Same Eagles: Newman Strikes Again

Reader, I regret to inform you that the Neurotypicals are at it again. Or rather one specific neurotypical is. There is a recent book review in the NY Times that isn’t worth the ink or paper or pixels it’s printed on. It’s written by Judith Newman and it’s a terrifying mass of horrific delusion and absolutely no fact-checking. If that name sounds familiar, this is the same person that wrote To Siri With Love, a book so actively harmful there was a whole movement to #BoycottToSiri because of the levels of sheer hate speech about neurodivergent people in it. The book where she divulged medical histories and personal information about her son without ever asking if that was okay with HIM. The one where she wants medical power of attorney over that same son when he hits 18 so she can get him sterilized.

Yeah, that person.

The review she wrote for We Walk is even more delusional that the letter that Steve Rogers wrote to Tony Stark at the end of Captain America: Civil War. It name-drops Allen Buchanan, a “bioethicist”/eugenicist which is not surprising given the author, but still left me staring in almost incoherent fury at my screen. The book itself has its own issues, falling into the same traps that To Siri did. Newman also seems to come to the conclusion that inspiration porn is good, actually. Which was right around the time my blood pressure started spiking again. Twitter link below goes into some of the details as to why this was a bad take par excellence.

Twitter Link Discussing The Review

As for my personal opinion, I tend towards the side of no representation for us without us. As an autistic adult, I sincerely wish parents of autistic children would stop writing about us without any seeming care for how their words affect us.

Words matter. Attitudes matter. Theirs are actively harmful to people like me.

Book Review: The White Plague

NB: The bulk of this post was written well before the 2020 pandemic.

The White Plague, a book that never fails to garner an interesting reaction whenever it comes up in SFF circles. A good friend and fellow SFF/horror fen once told me that being able to get all the way through the book I’m reviewing today made me a better fen than him (which is complete BS – fen are fen are fen)   Another person at a Dragon*Con panel I attended mentioned that anyone who could read all the way through this novel deserved a medal or possibly several stiff drinks (which okay fair). Having read all the way through this novel, I can see what would provoked those comments even if I strongly disagree with the former.  This is not a novel for the faint of heart or anyone with an overactive imagination. I have no idea how I made it all the way through without terrifying nightmares. I’ve spoken with longtime horror readers who couldn’t finish this book. And I don’t blame them.  This book by Frank Herbert (yes, that Frank Herbert ) is arguably one of his most chilling and disturbing works.

The Dune saga will blow your mind and then restructure it, as will Whipping Star and its sequel, The Dosadi Experiment.   Herbert doesn’t write “nice” stories, and when there are tender or nice-seeming parts, that’s when a careful reader starts looking for the hidden gom-jabber or poison ring. However,  The White Plague is in a league of its own when it comes to just outright terrifying fiction.  The plot is rather beautiful in the simplicity of it.   A man suffers a terrible tragedy and resolves to get revenge on those responsible. We’ve seen this plot replicated over countless movies, shows, comics, books…the devil, as they say, is in the details. That is where Herbert takes us. The revenge arc unfolds before your eyes from start to finish. You are witness to both the immediate and long term repercussions of what the main character O’Neill has set into motion, out of a rage born from overwhelming grief.   Over the course of the novel, you see how that knowledge, the sure and uncompromising knowledge of exactly what he’s done takes its toll on him mentally, physically, and emotionally.

The way that the governments of the world react to such a event happening. How they handle the various responses to O’Neill’s initial demands and then as they realize the long term consequences that the plague will have…it’s breathtaking the way it all comes out.  Herbert is a master at combining the political, mental, and communal drama in his exploration of how such a thing would change the face of the world as we know it.

The chilling part of this novel, the part that often makes people find it hard to continue through with it is that the novel itself is very blunt and realistic. Herbert doesn’t pull any punches, doesn’t attempt to soften any of the blows with mysticism or philosophy.   It reads less like a novel and more like a non-fiction piece describing the horrific tragedy that happened.

With the starkness of the writing and the events that unfold, Herbert plays into the sense that the events that happen in this novel are not only realistic, but plausible.   There are no fantastical elements, no aliens, no spice, just a human being using modern science to inflict an horrific plague on the earth.

That’s the horrifying chilling  element. That’s what stops readers cold. The fact that these events are not only realistic, but plausible.   The events that occur in the novel could conceivably and believably happen tomorrow.

And that is a revelation that can and will shake you down to your core.  It’s one thing to read a novel that scares you, it’s another thing to realize that the novel that scared you could actually happen in real life.

It’s a fantastic read (but maybe wait to read it until 2021, okay?).

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