To me, the drama of has a lot of parallels with modern-day parenting. Sure, putting a Paw Patrol Band-Aid on your kid's scraped knee isn't exactly the same as treating a degloved foot (although judging by the screaming, you wouldn't know it). And betting on where a runaway ambulance will end up is higher stakes than betting on which child will crawl into your bed tonight.
It's not just about the procedural accuracy. It's about honoring these stories and the emotional and ethical terrain that doctors navigate every day that reflect similar terrains within us. It's kind of like an onion peel. The more you pull back, the more there is, and the more it moves you.
In season two of "The Pitt," the Emmy-winning drama that returned to HBO Max on Thursday, a middle-aged man named Orlando Diaz wakes up in the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center. His wife and daughter are at his side; a cannula is delivering oxygen into his nose. "How'd I get here?" he asks softly.
This show is really fucking good. I've watched the season 2 premiere three times now, and the only thought I keep coming back to is that The Pitt is still exceptional TV. Between star Noah Wyle, creator R. Scott Gemmill, and executive producer John Wells (ER, people)not to mention the legion of veteran actors who pace the halls of PTMCyou feel every damn bit of television-making experience at work.
When arriving paramedics ask Eitan for his details, he declines to give his real name, instead giving them the name of his work supervisor and nemesis, Douglas Moran. Eitan is a hard-partying consultant rheumatologist who has just returned to work after several months off following a mental health crisis, and who uses liquid cocaine secreted into a nasal inhaler to get through the working day.
I think the fans have reacted the way we had hoped. I thought they were a little harsh on Santos. 'Cause I actually, if anybody on the staff is close to me personally, personality-wise, it's probably Santos.
