The Knick

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.

100 seconds.

100 seconds.

I want the students to take

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.

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?