…And We’re Back.

At long last! A Grey’s Anatomy recap! Say it ain’t so. Anyway, it’s good to be back. If you didn’t see the most recent episode, it featured breasts, penises, vaginas, and even an awkward public service announcement by Kate Walsh. Outstanding!

Anyway, as this week’s episode opens, Izzie is cooking some pancakes in the kitchen, apparently having realized that muffinmaking is not in fact a growth industry in lo this era of globalization and outsourcing. She’s giddy as Mark Foley at Cub Scout camp with the thought of all the money she’s inherited from her nonliving nonhusband, Denny. Meredith enters the room, ready to return to the hospital for her first day back after her appendectomy. Izzie wonders aloud about her options for spending the $8.7 million, ultimately settling on the idea of opening a bed and breakfast in Vermont so she can look at the foliage and guzzle maple syrup ALL FUCKING DAY.

“Does this coffee taste a little queeny? Or is it just me?”

Overcome with excitement, Izzie spills orange juice all over her big check but fortunately doesn’t ruin it. George and Meredith implore her to deposit it right away, and Izzie insists she will as soon as she has a chance to run to the hospital and clean all the antipsychotic meds out of her locker.

“OOH, you know what I’ll make when I get back home tonight??”

“A ZOLOFT UPSIDE-DOWN CAKE!!!!!”

At the hospital, the interns hang around talking about what they’d do with that much money. They all concur that Izzie is insane. She overhears this and retorts that Meredith is the one with the problems—after all, she still hasn’t fessed up to He-Shepherd that she dumped the vet. Meredith rationalizes endlessly and says He-Shepherd just has a lot on his plate right now, what with the ginger-haired adulteress he’s trying to divorce.

“Okay, once I put the handcuffs on, our safe word will be albóndigas“

Dr. Torres and Dr. Sloan apparently no longer work for a living, as they’re still lounging around in bed post-coitus. Callie’s phone rings with a call from George, but she declines to answer, seeing as she’s fully unclothed in the presence of another man’s penis. Dr. Sloan wheedles her about her “boyfriend” calling, but Callie insists George is no such thing.

In her morning greeting/diatribe, Bailey tells the interns they’re required to go to some event called an “M&M,” even if they haven’t yet finished their rounds. Apparently this “Morbidity and Mortality Conference” is a monthly meeting all the SGH doctors attend in order to discuss any serious medical mistakes they’ve made—particularly those that contributed to patient deaths. Oh great, sounds like yet another way to work Denny back into the plot. First Denny’s father, then a voicemail message, then the check for Izzie, and now this? For god’s sake, JUST DIE ALREADY. I thought we took care of this last May.

Right before the M&M starts, a young couple shows up at the hospital—the wife is in a sour mood because she has breast cancer and is scheduled to have a mastectomy the next day. The husband, for whatever reason, is really giddy. Who knows—maybe he just doesn’t like breasts. Anyway, the interns speculate that maybe the woman’s diagnosis came so late because she was breastfeeding and assumed the lump in her breast was just a clogged milk duct. Eww. I don’t like it when we start mixing medicine and dairy.

Anyway, the interns run to the M&M. Cristina is so eager she even brought snacks. This behavior is HIGHLY unamusing to Dr. Burke, who perhaps was already in a bad mood because he failed to find any gays to stomp on during his morning commute. Dr. Torres gives George the cold shoulder on the way into the auditorium, prompting George to whine that she’s just trying to make him feel guilty. FYI, the heavy-handed theme for this week is guilt. Good old-fashioned Catholic guilt. OOH, maybe this this week’s special guest star will be THE HOLY FATHER POPE BENEDICT XVI.

The focus of the M&M turns out to be patient 24601, a poor man named Jean Valjean. My bad, it’s actually patient 34986, some dumbass named Denny Duquette. CURSES! As Dr. Burke takes the podium, he tries to gloss over the causes of Denny’s death, but none of the other doctors buy his story—particularly one asshole doctor named Dr. Savoy who insists that Dr. Bailey field questions instead.

“No no no, I don’t hate gays, I just hate men who have sex with men“

So Bailey reluctantly goes up to the podium, and it gets ugly fast. The doctors grill her mercilessly, asking why she failed to monitor Denny’s situation and failed to control her interns. Dr. Savoy insinuates that Dr. Bailey’s womanly hormones have clouded her judgment ever since she had her baby. This is simply too much for Dr. Alex Karev, King of the Gynecologists, who stands up angrily in Bailey’s defense. Just as things are getting especially nasty, the interns notice that Izzie somehow found her way to the back of the auditorium and has watched everything that’s transpired. Which in my opinion is a good thing, since the crazy bitch caused this whole mess to begin with.

Later, He-Shepherd and She-Shepherd meet with their divorce lawyer to divide up their assets. We learn that She-Shepherd has a trust fund! Splendid! They come to the ever-fraught subject of who keeps the house(s) and/or trailer(s). He-Shepherd cuts in and says he’s decided to be generous: all he wants is his RV out in the woods near Seattle. She-Shepherd can have the rest: the brownstone in Manhattan, the house in the Hamptons, and let’s not forget the weekend sex pad down in Rio.

This unexpected generosity arouses She-Shepherd’s suspicion, but He-Shepherd insists there’s no ulterior motive. The affair was his fault, and his relationship with Meredith was emotional, unlike She-Shepherd’s merely physical dalliance with Dr. Sloan. She-Shepherd’s face shows a fleeting look of guilt, so something’s up. Nonetheless, she accepts hist generosity, they both sign on the dotted line, and everything seems fine and dandy until I realize that OMG I CAN’T CALL HER SHE-SHEPHERD ANYMORE.

Back at the hospital, the interns try to cheer up Izzie, who’s now catatonic after witnessing Bailey’s skewering at the M&M. Finally they threaten to call Izzie’s mother if she refuses to perk up. OOH, this mother must be a doozy—I can’t wait for her inevitable cameo. I wonder who they’ll cast. Shelley Long? Meredith Baxter Birney? ACADEMY AWARD NOMINEE ELLEN BURSTYN?!?!

In the hallway, that dick Dr. Savoy assures Bailey that none of his questioning during the M&M was meant to be personal. Oh. Phew! Then the cancer patient’s husband asks Bailey to go try to comfort his wife, who’s having last-minute doubts about the mastectomy. Bailey, not wanting to appear overly maternal in front of Dr. Savoy, distances herself and says she’ll send Dr. Sloan instead, to discuss the woman’s breast reconstruction options—i.e., feel her up.

Burke, meanwhile, approaches Dr. Webber to tell him that he’s not ready to return to surgery yet and that he really hates homosexuals. But Webber interrupts and launches into some yarn about how Burke is such a great natural leader and it’s good to have him back in the operating room. Burke, unable to resist ass-kissing, decides to keep his mouth shut about his hand tremors.

Dr. Shepherd flirts with Meredith by the stairs, and the two of them share some raucous appendix humor. Sadly this reverie is interrupted by a page from DR. MONTGOMERY, who needs Meredith to join her on a consult for a patient who has a foreign object stuck inside her vagina. Oh great, first BREASTS, now VAGINAS. Anyway, it turns out the foreign object inside this woman is, well, her ex-husband’s penis. Aparently they were having sex and got stuck together. Like cicadas.

Later, Burke relates to Cristina how he tried but failed to tell Webber about his hand. He’s angry with himself and seemingly with her as well. Despite his emotional agitation, though, Burke makes sure to enunciate his words magnificently so we won’t mistake him for some sort of lisping queen.

Izzie, momentarily at the top end of her mania/depression curve, runs into Dr. Montgomery and asks whether she’s ever felt guilty for being so rich. After all, her full name is Dr. Addison Forbes Montgomery Shepherd, so she must be simply rolling in it. HOLY SHIT THAT IS THE BEST NAME EVER. Honestly, it’s nice to get objective confirmation that Dr. Montgomery comes from such solid, waspy stock. Her parents are probably really classy people. You know, the kind who drink from stemless wine glasses and use “Jew” as a verb. Anyway, Dr. Addison McMoneybags tells Izzie not to feel guilty—just deposit the $8.7 million check and shut up.

“Don’t worry ma’am, these things can withstand even a strong squeeze from Isaac Mizrahi”

Meanwhile, Dr. Sloan consults with the mastectomy patient. He tells her about the relative merits of silicone vs. saline implants and advises her husband to pay attention since he’s the one who’s gonna have to feel these puppies later. The husband, clearly not a tits guy, doesn’t care one way or the other. Afterward, he approaches Bailey and complains this wife won’t talk to or look at the baby, which is odd because she’s normally such a good mother. Bailey distances herself again and suggests vaguely that she’ll arrange a psych consult for the wife. Dr. Webber overhears this exchange with consternation.

Over in Dr. Montgomery’s area, the unhappily coupled couple undergo imaging to determine why the man’s penis is stuck. Since the situation isn’t awkward enough already, their daughter suddenly shows up and, in horror, calls her mother a slut. The tests reveal that the man has a PENIS PIERCING that got HOOKED ON THE EX-WIFE’S I.U.D., which is now LODGED IN THE WALL OF HER VAGINA. My god, first clogged milk ducts and now this? If I needed to throw up I would watch House.

So nice to see Sharon Osbourne working again

In the hallway, Dr. Sloan asks Dr. Montgomery who got the brownstone in the divorce settlement. She tries to ignore this, but he persists, and she finally admits that Dr. Shepherd gave her very generous terms. Sloan is incredulous and says she must never have told Shepherd the whole story of their affair. Ooh, this prompts Dr. Montgomery to feel guilt. RICH, WASPY GUILT.

In the ever-popular SGH quasi-outdoor cafeteria, Izzie prattles on about wanting to buy gifts for Burke and Bailey. Alex says if he had Izzie’s money he would quit and buy “at least one Bahama.” Cristina retorts that no, he wouldn’t quit, since he’s a surgeon and that’s what he DOES. This makes Izzie feel like shit. Cristina realizes her mistake and apologizes.

Inside, Dr. Torres confesses to Meredith that she slept with another guy—i.e., suffocated him with her giant, gargantuan breasts. Anyway she asks whether she should tell George. Meredith evades this and confesses that she broke up with the vet and still hasn’t told Dr. Shepherd. Awkward.

Down the hall, the mastectomy patient’s husband is upset because his wife won’t hold or even look at her baby. Bailey yet again tries to avoid getting involved. Dr. Webber sees this again and decides it’s time to intervene. He reminds Bailey that compassion is an important part of her job and, regardless of what she heard at the M&M, being a mother makes her a better doctor.

Burke is off in a lounge trying to do paperwork, but his hand is shaking like Michael J. Fox in that campaign commercial. Izzie stops by to chat, but guess what—Burke is in a bad mood. Shocker! Izzie keeps saying everything is fine, but Burke insists that everything is most certainly not fine. He got shot and it was Izzie’s fault. Izzie has two good surgical hands and isn’t using them since she quit the program. While he, PRESTON BURKE, a RENOWNED CARDIOTHORACIC SURGEON, is unable to get back into his beloved O.R. because his hand is all messed up. And to top it off, the fine brutha he used to visit every Tuesday in the steam room at the local downlow lounge just moved out of town. Things are most certainly NOT FINE.

“Wait—’on the DL’ and ‘gay’ mean the same thing??!? FUUUUCK.”

Elsewhere in the hospital, Dr. Montgomery uses an imaging machine to guide the interns as they pull the coital ex-spouses apart. Just as Meredith is “swirling” the woman off her partner, the man starts shouting—it appears at first that he’s, uh, “finishing,” but it’s merely a heart attack! Phew. That woulda been awkward. And messy.

Anyway turns out this entangled-penis-cum-heart-attack patient (sorry, I couldn’t resist) has some aorta problem and needs an emergency operation. The only cardiothoracic surgeon on call is Burke, so they need him to scrub in. Burke panics, but Cristina says that she’ll stand by his side all through the operation and step in if his tremor sets in.

As the operation starts, the scene is actually pretty tense. Inevitably, Burke starts getting tremors halfway through the procedure. Cristina speaks up, asking whether he might be so generous as to let her practice her “running whip stitch” on the patient’s heart—which of course is code for “break out the S&M garb when we get back home.” This running whip stitch must really be something, since the interns are all enraptured watching from the gallery. Apparently between watching surgeries, porking one another, and attending M&Ms they really do no work whatsoever.

Dr. Bailey, meanwhile, finally goes in to talk to the breast cancer patient. Bailey confesses that after a typical day at work she can’t wait to get home and see her baby, but then when she gets home and the baby starts crying she HATES the baby and tends to blame him for all her problems. She guesses correctly that the patient is likewise angry at her own baby—after all, if she hadn’t been breastfeeding, her cancer would’ve been diagnosed sooner because she never would’ve confused the breast lump for a clogged milk duct. This finally gets through to the mother, who decides to go ahead with the mastectomy.

Out in the hall, just as Dr. Shepherd is telling Dr. Montgomery how nice it is that they’re acting like civilized divorcées, she finally blurts out that her affair with Dr. Sloan wasn’t just a one-night stand. In fact, they were in love, and after Dr. Shepherd left they lived together for two months and did the nasty in every room of the house eight times a week from dusk til dawn, etc. She insists that she’s just as responsible for the breakup as Shepherd and exhorts him to take the Manhattan brownstone. He replies that all he wants is to stay in Seattle and never to see her again. OOH. I do love a good round of WASP DIVORCÉE TURMOIL. Meredith, of course, picks the moment immediately after this conversation to inform Shepherd that she broke up with the vet. He barely pays attention, which baffles her. GREAT TIMING, SWEETCHEEKS.

During the break that follows, there’s a commercial about breast cancer and then a public service announcement from Kate Walsh for the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation. Oddly, Ms. Walsh is very stiff and awkward—it looks like she’s plastered or just crapped her pants, or perhaps both. So I guess this whole episode was timed to coincide with Breast Cancer Awareness Month, which apparently is indeed October. (President Bush would be so impressed that I used “the Google.”)

“Yes, my publicist and parole officer totally put me up to this”

Back on the show, Izzie runs into Dr. Webber’s office and blurts out that says she suddenly has eight million dollars. I love it when rich people are so discreet. Anyway she says she could do anything she wants now, but all she really wants to do is be a surgeon and do running whip stitches all day. Webber tells her a story about some big mistake he made as an intern that cost a patient his life. Despite this failure, he stayed on as an intern, learned, and never made the same mistake again. Because he made that choice he now gets to SAVE lives. YAY. (This message was brought to you by the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation.)

Dr. Sloan walks into some lounge where Shepherd is searching for porn on his laptop. Sloan says he knows what Shepherd is thinking—he wasted year of life trying to make things work with Dr. Addison Vanderbilt Morgan duPont Carnegie Montgomery when he could’ve been focusing on Meredith. Because that Meredith sure is a catch. Yes sirree. Anyway Sloan thought that, as a friend, he owed Shepherd the truth. Shepherd says they’re not friends and leaves the room.

In the hall, Dr. Bailey is holding the mastectomy patient’s baby, which prompts douchebag Dr. Savoy to ask whether she’s babysitting. Bailey says yes, she’s being all unprofessional and emotionally involved, and suddenly she feels a rush of hormones coming on and there’s NO TELLING WHAT SHE MIGHT DO. Haha this scene is great. Afterward, Alex says he’s sorry Bailey got so grilled during the M&M and that, despite his earlier denials, he actually knew about Izzie’s LVAD plan beforehand and failed to do anything to stop her. So it was his fault also. Bailey thanks him for this.

After work, George goes to Callie’s hotel room with a bucket of fried chicken and what appear to be the two lamest Playstation games of all time. Callie is very cold, informing him that when she told him the other night that she was done trying to compete for his attention, that meant she was BREAKING UP WITH HIM. George is baffled and says he thinks he would’ve noticed that. Except he didn’t, which Callie reminds him is the REASON SHE BROKE UP WITH HIM. She closes the door in his face.

Oh George, stop being so “masc”

As the episode begins its endless, music-accompanied death throes, we see Dr. Sloan back in bed with Dr. Montgomery. As Dan Aykroyd would say, this guy bounces to bed to bed with the frequency of a cheap ham radio. By the way, what the hell happened to Dan Aykroyd? Oh wait, he’ll probably end up as a guest star ON THIS SERIES. Back at home, Izzie puts her check up on the fridge, saying that some good needs to come from the money, and until she figures out what that is she’s not depositing it. Izzie clearly fails to understand the power of compounding. Anyway, in the meantime let’s take bets on what elaborate circumstances will cause the check to be destroyed and/or lost.

So that’s it. I thought this was a great episode, though they really need to put the Denny thing to rest. At this rate, next week Izzie will probably see an image of Denny’s face on a piece of toast, or on a leaf out in the yard, or in the swirl patterns in her daily tub of Xanax ice cream. I thought the breast cancer infomercial was a little odd, but at least it was for a good cause. And speaking of ads, I doubt I’m the only one who’s SO SICK of those Cymbalta commercials that they air constantly during this show. I get it. Depression hurts everyone. SHUT UP. Anyway, what did we think?