Pierwsze 199 wierszy.
And inhale... and exhale.
Okay, great.
How's the exercise going?
Well, that whole inhale/exhale thing knocked me for a loop,
but I did take the stairs up here from the parking garage.
I'm on the second floor.
I know. I'm not finished.
I still have to go back down.
You can get dressed.
Ah, so it looks like
your donor passed her psych eval.
I am as shocked as you are.
Well, everything is looking great.
We're just about ready to schedule your surgery.
Really? Oh, that's fantastic.
There is one thing. No, no!
You cannot build up my hopes
and then yank the rug out from under me.
See, you do this, Doctor.
You do this all the time, and I'm sick of it.
We just need Gina's medical history
on her father's side.
I believe I owe you an apology.
I should have let you finish.
The thing is, uh,
Gina's father passed away.
Can we still schedule it without it?
Absolutely. All right!
But I wouldn't advise it. You son of a bitch!
She'll be living with one kidney.
If there's any history of kidney stones or clots
or anything else, she'll be putting herself at risk.
Okay, yes, got it.
I will make sure she gets the records.
Thanks, you son of a bitch.
I'm glad we can laugh about that.
Yeah.
Okay, gotta hit the stairs.
My father died like 20 years ago.
I don't have his medical records.
I mean, I guess I could make them up, like I do
my Social Security number.
No. The-the doctor said there could be
serious health complications.
And you should really stop using
one-two-three-four- five-six-seven-eight-nine.
Just tell them that my dad was a jerk
but he was incredibly healthy.
You just said he died young.
He got hit by a train.
At that point, nobody cares about your cholesterol level.
Can you at least try to track down his doctor
or talk to some relatives?
There's my stepmom Charlene,
but, mm, I haven't talked to her forever.
How come?
I'm afraid my hands will end up wrapped around her neck
choking the life out of her.
You know, like families do.
Come on, Cannoli, let's go for a walk.
Well, can you please just call her?
I mean, if something happened to you,
I could never forgive myself.
Oh, I'll be fine.
I don't like to talk about it,
but my life is kind of charmed.
Do you know how many home pregnancy tests I've taken?
And guess what,
I don't see any babies.
Gina can't do the surgery without those records.
There are too many unknowns. I know.
But she refuses to talk to her stepmother.
If she signs the waiver for the surgery
and something happens to her,
oh, I could end up killing her.
Oh, my God.
That's hilarious.
Sorry, I'm on a Zoom meeting for work.
If Gina won't talk to her stepmother,
I guess you could just call off the surgery.
That is the stupidest idea I've ever heard.
Yeah, that was for you.
You cannot pass up a willing donor. - I agree.
If she's willing to go through with it, that's her decision.
She's an adult.
An adult whose e-mail is still
MrsJustinTimberlake143 @hotmail. com,
but hey, we all got our things.
Well, when she dies because they didn't know
her medical history,
her husband Justin can sing at her funeral.
"Bye Bye Bye."
I think Gideon and Jerry are right.
Uh, I should probably just call off the surgery.
If something happens to her, I-I couldn't live with myself.
She's my friend now. If I kill her,
I've killed half my friends. - Oh, come on now.
Let's get real here. What are the chances
of something really going wrong?
Actually... It doesn't matter.
It's not worth it. Surgery's off.
Ugh, you are so stupid.
No, not you guys.
I'm at lunch with a bunch of jack holes.
Not you guys.
I don't know why I'm so surprised.
My daughter breaks my heart all the time.
I'm so sorry, Norma.
And even though I know better, I keep getting my hopes up
thinking things will change.
I'm so sorry, Norma.
Yeah, you already said that. You work in an old folks' home.
Don't they train you to console people?
Hey, Norma.
Oh, are you okay?
Her daughter canceled on her for Family Weekend.
Again. I'm so sorr...
I am sure that Amy had a very good reason.
Oh, she did.
Apparently, I wasn't "there enough for her"
while she was growing up.
That according to her very expensive therapist,
who I pay for, by the way, because Amy has no insurance
because Amy has no job.
Which, apparently, is my fault as well.
Screw her! I am sure that you were a loving mother
who did the best you could.
Eh...
I'll tell you what, me and you, girls' weekend.
Let's cash out your Social Security in singles
and make it rain
at the strip club, hey.
Thank you. You're an angel.
Eh...
Gina? Hey, Drew.
What are you doing here?I thought about it.
You have to get your dad's medical records.
Oh, I already told you... Because if you don't,
I'm calling off the surgery.
Oh, you are lying. I am not.
I would rather go back on the donor list
than put your life at greater risk.
And I won't take no for an answer.
Are you serious? I am.
Look, if something happens to you...
It's just not worth it. And that's that.
Drew, you would call the whole thing off
to protect me?
Ugh. Okay.
I will call my stepmom and get the records.
Really? Yeah.
Good.
Wow, I kind of like alpha Drew.
What about you guys?
Eh...
Alexa, play something from the early 2000s.
Oh, stop! Alexa, stop.
Well, that's gonna haunt my dreams.
Drew, the dishes are clean,
but those moves are dirty.
Norma, to what do we owe the pleasure?
Oh, well, her daughter couldn't make it to Family Weekend,
so I'm gonna take her to Philly with me.
Girls' trip!
Why are you going to Philly?
And why are you taking off your shirt?
We talked about this-- no boobs in the kitchen.
At least I'm wearing a bra this time.
I called my stepmom to get the records,
but she didn't call me back-- big surprise--
so I'm gonna drive to her house and get 'em for you.
But Philly's like three hours away.
Oh, that's why I'm going, to keep her company.
Plus, if the car breaks down and I freeze to death,
that'll really make my daughter feel guilty.
Okay, I'm going with you.
Oh, really, you don't have to.
No, you're doing this for me. I want to be there for you.
You don't need to come.
You haven't been back there in years.
This could be really tough for you.
I'm telling you I'll be fine.
When my father died, I broke down
every time I sat in his favorite chair.
That's not going to happen, and you're not going.
Gina, going to your childhood home
could unlock memories about your father's death.
Oh, my God, he's not dead, okay?!
What?
I lied. He's alive.
Gina?
Wow. Yeah.
I call shotgun.
So?
You said you wouldn't ask. That's fine.
It's your life, it's your business.
We can just enjoy our little road trip.
Things were different in my day.
Big, open convertibles, no seat belts.
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