The Dope Box TV Blog

A quickened heartbeat can symbolize a number of things. It can be the result of an illness or disease, but most often we associate a racing heart with emotion: fear, panic, love.

Bailey’s just returned from a 3 day vacation to find out she’s getting promoted. She looks like she’s on the verge of collapsing when she gets her first case. A deathly ill child, precisely what she’d like to avoid. Although she has quiet moments of panic, she doesn’t let the child see it. She calmly translates Dixon’s awkward barrage of medical jargon. And later, talks her through getting stabbed in the chest with a needle so huge it should have had Acme written on the side and been administered by a wascally wabbit.

In surgery, it’s clear the kid’s heart is diseased or, as Dixon tactfully puts it, “finished.”  Bailey is so upset she leaves mid-surgery to have some cuddle time with her son. Inspired by a backpack, she figures out a way for the girl to get her meds without being imprisoned in a hospital bed. All the happiness and celebration (and one rogue hug from the mom) makes Dixon blow a gasket. The solution? Applying deep pressure to decrease her metabolic rate and slow her speedy pulse. We laymen know this as a bear hug.

Bailey’s composed strength with ailing kids and her determination to find a solution, however unorthodox, proves she’d be a stellar pediatric surgeon. Plus, she’s a master bedazzler.

Romance is blooming all over Seattle Grace. With Denny out of the picture, Izzie and Alex are enjoying sexy-time sans jealous dead guy interruptions. She’s also having interns do a zillion tests on her, apparently heeding Denny’s warnings about her health. The blood tests say she’s just anemic. As far as I know, a low concentration of hemoglobin doesn’t cause ghostly hallucinations. I’m guessing the interns (in all their daftness) accidentally switched the test results. I’ll be delighted when that plotline dies, even if it takes Izzie with it.

Blink-and-you-miss-him George spottings: briefly mocking Izzie’s unnecessary MRI; tiny lunchroom caveat about avoiding heinous sex position number 15.

Sloane’s fractured penis caused the relationship he has with Lexie to strengthen. Forced to forgo sex, they two have been growing on an emotional level. She wants to end the secrecy and be a couple in public. Callie also gets in on the debate, calling him an idiot and having yet another personally revealing outburst during surgery. “I’m celibate!”

Derek is trying to find the perfect way to propose to Meredith. Yang tells him not to go overboard, while the Chief insists that proposals should include skywriting and rowboating. Derek would just like to be able to ask without fearing she’ll jump off a dock into icy water and forget to be buoyant.

Hearing Meredith talk about how cute their babies are going to be makes Derek get that gooey-eyed look. He then avoids her like the plague because he’s nervous about the proposal. She thinks he’s spooked by the notion that their spawn will be genetically inferior, citing Alzheimer’s, suicidal tendencies, and split ends (noticeably absent from her list: a predilection for whining, trouble noticing that which doesn’t directly involve her). He consoles her, adorably confirming that he does indeed want her “crappy babies.”

In the end, he opts to set the stage with a roomful of roses, candles, and a slightly disturbing stuffed polar bear. When Meredith comes home later, the room is swept clean with only a solitary rose petal left behind. Derek left to help Addison’s brother, that guy from Melrose Place. Because, let’s face it, parasitic brain infestations always take precedent over sweeping romantic gestures.

For me, the exchange between Yang and Hunt made Derek’s efforts look like clichéd schmaltziness. Dreamy piano music plays and the pair are shown in slow motion. They walk close beside each other without speaking, both of them shy but keenly aware of the other’s presence. He glances over at her neck and softly grazes the back of her hand with his fingers before departing. Later, they smile at each other from across the hall, a similar scene beginning again, until Hunt spots a woman he evidently has some kind of history with and dives into a nearby room. Clearly in the midst of a panic attack, he tells Yang to leave him, but she administers the bear hug treatment gleaned from Dixon. He relents, devastated and traumatized by his mysterious past. In the on-call room, Hunt sleeps peacefully, wrapped around Cristina. You may now commence with swooning.

New rainbow couple alert: Arizona follows lonely Callie in to Joe’s bathroom. She comforts her by saying people only say the nicest things whilst gossiping about her. “The talk is good.” She makes up for her inarticulate speech with a solid lesbian snog.

“You’re a tiny person.” -Dixon

I assume the title of the episode refers to Aaron although, frankly, the kid is a little dull. He was born on a time-traveling, smoke-monster infested, inexplicably paranormal island! Would it be so  implausible for the wee fella to have some kind of freaky ability? How about gills? Hallucinogenic saliva? Or, perhaps, laser-beam retinas? All we’ve seen him do is cry and eat fries.

Despite all his boringness, Kate still wants to keep him so she heads over to see her mystery rival’s lawyer. Sun agrees to babysit and receives a package with colorless pictures of Ben and bearded Jack. Oh, and a golden box of chocolates atop a handgun. A little unrealistic if you ask me. I mean, who uses black and white film anymore?

Kate tries to make a deal with cranky lawyer guy (who I can only think of as Angela’s dad from My So-Called Life) but he won’t budge. He tells her, quite simply, “You’re going to lose the boy.” If the goal were really to take Aaron away, wouldn’t the police have been notified? This leaves me to gather that the real goal is mental manipulation.

In the meantime, Sayid is just waking up from a relaxing 42 hour snooze caused by 3 horse tranquilizers. Jacky-boy gets in trouble for hanging around the hospital since they tend to frown on pill-popping alky doctors tending to patients. While Ben and Jack shoot the breeze, a fake orderly tries to re-tranq Sayid. But he’s quick-witted and sprightly, grabbing the intruder’s gun, and shooting fluffy purple darts through his scrubs. Sayid retrieves Kate’s address from the lame assassin’s pocket (who claims she sent him). I smell a set-up!

Kate, who’s sounding especially Canadian lately, and Jack follow the lawyer to a hotel where he’s meeting with (cue dramatic music) Claire’s mother! They sit in the car through a commercial break and rainstorm before Jack decides he’ll fix everything. He marches right up and starts yammering excuses about the many lies they’ve told. Claire’s mom just looks perplexed. Turns out she’s suing Oceanic and has no clue Aaron is alive. Good thing Jack’s bumbling explanation conveniently left out specifics!

That lawyer sure gets around. He meets with Ben in the middle of a parking lot to discuss Hurley’s release from prison. Later, Ben admits to being the one who’s been mercilessly screwing with Kate. She says, “Why don’t you just leave me and my son alone?” He replies, coolly stating the obvious, “Because he’s not your son, Kate.” At that moment, Sun pulls up, toddler o’ insipidness sitting in the backseat, and grabs the gun out of her purse. Assuming she’s after Mr. Linus, we can look forward to a dose of genius puppet-mastery next week as he talks her out of pulling the trigger.

On the island, the crew continues their jaunt through the space-time continuum. All this time-hopping is starting to feel like a theme park ride. With nosebleeds. And H-bombs. Charlotte isn’t dead after all, just bloody and forgetful. Miles and Juliet both start exhibiting symptoms of what Daniel Faraday casually calls “really bad jetlag.”

Sawyer spends much of the episode crinkling his brow and pining for Kate. After an island spazz (or time-jump, if you prefer), he ends up coming across Claire and Kate during Aaron’s birth. Seeing them gives Sawyer a serious case of gloomy eyes. The group hop into abandoned boats strewn with empty bottles of Indian water, and are soon getting shot at by strangers. Time jump! It’s dark and rainy, so they head back to land. By the way, wouldn’t the boats have disappeared after the shift since they weren’t part of their original gear?

French wreckage litters the shore, with one container reading Besix Douze. “Douze” means “twelve” but not even AltaVista Babelfish could tell me what the hell Besix means. It is possible that the name is irrelevant but dismissing seemingly extraneous details only leads to trouble. Of course, over-analysis of the show has been known to cause excessive nerdiness, leading to the haunting of Lost forums and an aversion to sunlight.

From the moment Locke said “French” I knew we were in for a visit from Danielle Rousseau. But not the stealthy, dirty, jungle loon we’ve grown to love. Instead, she’s young, smiley, and pregnant. Snatched up out of the water and taken with the Frenchies to shore is…Jin! Except for a raging case of chapped lips, he’s alive and well.

“Time travel’s a bitch.” -Sawyer