Have Mercy

I watched my first episode of "Mercy" last night, and I was impressed, both by the performances and the presentation. I've spent much more time in ER's, CCU's and hospital rooms than I care to remember, so I was surprised that I enjoyed the program. Medical dramas usually end up with me running for a different TV in another room where I can't even hear the other.

I'm more of a PBS guy. I can watch entire civilizations be obliterated by natural disaster, horrific wars and petty dictators who commit atrocities, but I can't watch the hospital shows. My aversion to hospitals runs deep. They remind me of death in a way that even film-noir doesn't.

Still, I enjoyed the show. Like most TV dramas, it exercises a bit of hyperbole for dramatic effect, but that doesn't interfere too much with the story. And that is where the value of a program exists: the story.

Tonight's episode touched on a number of prominent issues, including the nursing shortage and nurses’ professional interaction with physicians. It didn’t portray doctors in a particularly good light, but I’ve often found them to be arrogant and high-handed, unwilling to listen to anything that contradicts their preconceived notions, so I didn’t mind.

When my father was in the hospital and things looked God-awful, his nurse in the CCU told me not to bother with visiting hours, which were only 15 minutes a few times a day. She said that she'd buzz me in any time I showed up.

And since I was pretty sure he wasn't going to make it another day, I couldn't sleep. I wandered over to the CCU and spent the night talking to him. I don't know how much he knew I was there, but at one point he squeezed my hand, ever so gently.

The nurse may have broken protocol, but she was a human being long before she was a nurse.

I’m just glad I wasn’t dealing with a doctor.

When we were leaving the unit for the last time, the same nurse told us that she knew he must have been an extraordinary man. She said that some people come in, die, and no one even visits. We had a roomful of people singing old hymns and saying goodbye. She knew that he had been well-loved.

I could easily see that as a sub-plot line on "Mercy". Maybe a contrast between a patient that is so obviously loved and one who dies alone. And one that draws a line between humanity and protocols.

I'm not sure I could watch either one, though.

Overall, I liked the show, though. It was as realistic as TV can be, and it created sympathy for the characters that made it compelling.

Aristotle first proposed that drama requires sympathy for the protagonists, no matter how flawed they might be. When their flaws brought them down, it became tragedy.

It's very often flaws that make characters interesting, and everyone on "Mercy" seems to have them. They could probably all benefit from a few rounds of good therapy.

But I could say the same about any number of people I know. Including me.

I give it a thumbs-up. It's a compelling, character-driven (and sometimes humorous) melodrama. It addresses not only contemporary nursing issues, but also what life's like when the scrubs come off.

Things like how one copes with the constant exposure to death, disease and debilitation. The absolute, sheer frustration that comes from not being able to fix things. Not being able to make someone better.

I am the eternal optimist that refuses to give up or give in until the bitter end. I hide behind a persona of a jaded, cynical pessimist, but I never give up hope until I have no other choice. The persona is a mask I wear for reasons I only partially understand.

My instinct is to make things better in any way that I can. And that seems to be the underlying theme of “Mercy”. It’s about nurses who sometimes hide behind a mask, but in truth will not give up until they have no other choice.

That kind of drama is more acute and poignant in a hospital setting, where life and death are not abstractions, but a daily reality. Where every choice and action could be the difference between the two.

It’s a job I couldn’t do. I’ll stick to my numbers during the workday and my words at night.