In my forty four years orbiting the sun, I have consumed a rather large mountain of content. Be it comic book, youtube video, literary work, film, long-playing cassette tape, CD, MP3, or television show… to wad it up and assign it a value? A nerdsworth seems fitting. According to the TikToks that flood my feed, my undiagnosed adult onset ADHD has likely pushed a comfort series or two upon my addled mind. (TikTok? I feel seen. Thank you.)

When it comes to the mélange of media I metaphorically masticate, nothing has been a repeat meal more than Scrubs. By my estimate, I have watched the original series run of 182 episodes around ten complete times. Yes, that includes the oft-maligned final season — which even series creator Bill Lawrence would denote the desire to either remove from canon or denote it as a failed spin-off. But bad Scrubs (to me) is akin to cold pizza… it’s really never bad-bad. But I digress.

When word came down from on high that there would be a continuation of the series — not a “reboot”, not a “retcon”, nor a “re-imagining” —, I was excited, but perhaps a bit terrified. The fact is, the season eight My Finale (part 2) ended things so astoundingly well I didn’t want to see the show dust itself off. What was said was poignant, hopeful, and so of itself that there wasn’t room to keep going without treading back over the same waters. Luckily, Bill Lawrence doesn’t have access to my dream journal (it also features a unicorn, but his name isn’t Justin. It’s Poppyseed.) They went ahead and brought Scrubs back for a new season (on ABC, and Hulu the next day). 

The story itself picks up some twenty years after we left Sacred Heart the last time. Spoilers from here on out on the first two episodes to drop thus far. Over the course of twenty-two minutes, Lawrence and crew reset the table:

JD left the hospital after he and Elliott couldn’t make their marriage work. He became a suburban concierge doctor — handing out pills, taking temps, and making bank. Elliott stayed at the hospital. Turk, now Chief of Surgery, deals with 3 daughters at home… and clear ennui at Heart. Carla remains the same mother hen she’s always been (so far…), and Dr. Cox? Greyer. No less acerbic. And by the end of My Return, he’s stepped down to pass the torch of Chief of Medicine over to Dr. John Dorian.  Continue reading “So Long and Thank For The Fish, Man 109: Scrubbing Back In” →