THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, November 19, 1995 TAG: 9511150070
SECTION: REAL LIFE PAGE: K1 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: REAL PLACES
SOURCE: BY KERRY DOUGHERTY, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Medium: 74 lines
A FEW MINUTES before 10 on Thursday night, six medical students and one pre-med student are sprawled across the beige sectional sofa in Jason Knight's Norfolk apartment.
The television is on, tuned to Channel 10, but the sound is off. A bag of tortilla chips and Rubbermaid container of Mexican dip appear, cans of Dr. Pepper are popped.
Then ``E.R.'' flashes on the screen.
``Here it is, quiet you guys,'' says Michele James, stretching out her long legs and gesturing for Knight to crank up the volume.
``There he is, Dr. Doug,'' laughs one medical student, endeavoring to sort out the characters for a novice. ``He's a philandering pediatrician.''
Before the episode was over, the philandering Dr. Doug Ross would also save the life of one little boy - but not before performing a needless tracheotomy on him.
Needless in the minds of these second year med students from Eastern Virginia Medical School.
``Oh no, now he's got two airways,'' groaned Matt Rhames as Dr. Doug performed some rudimentary surgery on the little guy's neck with a Bic pen.
As the tension built in the episode, Dr. Doug had to choose between an ambulance ride to a hospital without a trauma center or a helicopter trip with newsmen to the right hospital. The catch: the flight on a non-medical chopper would take 15 long minutes.
``Fifteen minutes,'' moaned Danny Montero, who had repositioned himself on another chunk of the sofa, close to James. ``This is supposed to be Chicago. It wouldn't take 15 minutes to fly anywhere.''
And so it went. Medical students at once fascinated by the weekly portrayal of the lives they hope to pursue and at the same time ruthlessly critical about the authenticity of the show.
``Usually they are pretty authentic,'' James says of the ``E.R.'' episodes. ``Like they'll order tests the average layman wouldn't even know about and when they do, we all go `yeah!' ''
But this night the students spot more than a few flaws.
Like relatives wandering around the trauma unit.
``Never, never, never,'' declares Greg Domson, a fourth-year student at the University of Virginia who's in town for an interview at the medical school.
Domson volunteered in the trauma unit of a hospital recently and he says visitors are ushered in one at a time, under strict rules.
But toward the end of the show, when a young girl who's been in a car accident dies, there is silence in Jason Knight's living room.
``Whew,'' mutters Vince Casingal, staring at the screen.
Then the camera returns to a jubilant Dr. Doug - the little boy is talking again - everyone in the room breathes a sigh, and, as the credits roll by, the television is clicked off.
After the show the students rehash the episode: the diagnoses, the bedside manner of the actors. They don't seem to be in any hurry to break up their weekly ``E.R.'' party, despite the fact that all of the medical students have to attend a pathophysiology class at 8 on Friday morning.
The good thing is that virtually all of their fellow students will have tuned in to ``E.R.'' the night before.
``It gets to be a topic of conversation if it was a really good show,' says James, who wants to be an emergency room doctor herself someday. ``The only time we miss `E.R.' is when we're studying for exams. And then we tape the show and watch it later.'' ILLUSTRATION: Color photo by Todd Spencer, The Virginian-Pilot
Greg Domson, left, Sherri Klis and Matt Rhames sit glued to "E.R."
On this Thursday night the medical students noticed several gaffes,
including a needless tracheotomy.
by CNB