A tale about a happily married couple who would like to have children. Tracy teaches art, Andy's a college dean. Things are never the same after she is taken to hospital and operated upon by Jed, a "know all" doctor.

Jed: I have an M.D. from Harvard, I am board certified in cardio-thoracic medicine and trauma surgery, I have been awarded citations from seven different medical boards in New England, and I am never, ever sick at sea. So I ask you; when someone goes into that chapel and they fall on their knees and they pray to God that their wife doesn't miscarry or that their daughter doesn't bleed to death or that their mother doesn't suffer acute neural trama from postoperative shock, who do you think they're praying to? Now, go ahead and read your Bible, _Dennis_, and you go to your church, and, with any luck, you might win the annual raffle, but if you're looking for God, he was in operating room number two on November 17, and he doesn't like to be second guessed. You ask me if I have a God complex. Let me tell you something: I am God.
Dr. Jed Hill: I'm the new guy around here and I want to make friends, so I'll say this to you and we'll start fresh. If you don't like my jokes, don't laugh. If you have a medical opinion, then please speak up and speak up loud. But if you ever again tell me or my surgical staff that we're going to lose a patient, I'm gonna take out your lungs with a fuckin' ice cream scoop. Do you understand me?
Jed: Bad things happen to good people all the time, Andy, for no reason what-so-ever...
Andy: What the fuck do you think I want, Trace? I want half.
Mrs. Kennsinger: Welcome to the game.
[as the elevator doors open]
Andy: Speak of the Devil
Jed: And the Devil shall appear
Tracy: What do you want?
Andy Safian: What does everyone want? I want the Red Sox to win the World Series.
Tracy: Ask God how many shots of bourbon he had before he cut me open.

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