heroin, where?

So, staying up until 6 a.m. watching SGA and writing endless snippets of fic ideas, while a lovely way to spend an early morning do not make for a particularly smart move, given my imminent need to be in full control of my faculties (Friday: 8:30 a.m. - three-hour Reporting lab; 1 p.m. - interviews for new Alligator executive staff; 3 p.m. - French composition; 8:20 p.m. - Economics test, before which I need to study material an inch thick and make a notecard). Hand me that noose over there, wouldya please?

But seriously, this show is eating my brain a piece at a time. Currently, it's Beckett and his being the most out of his element on Atlantis. The laws of physics remain fairly immutable, people have the same mental problems anywhere, and the military brings its own order, but his patients are having their brains chewed on by nanoviruses, being exposed to a thousand bacteria that humans may never document, breathing air with chemicals that the Periodic Table is decades away from including, and coming back to him with all manner of exotic diseases and bites and god knows what else. And he's left to make it up as he goes along with yeah, the thorough knowledge of Earth medicine and whatever he's been able to piece together of Ancient, but mostly he just wraps people in bandages and keeps them for observation, then tells them to drink fluids and check in because what else can he do? It's got to be an immensely frustrating thing, to have been good at what he does and all of a sudden finding himself back in freshman med school class during practical finals without having gone to the lectures.

Also, Rodney knows an awful lot about chemistry and viruses for an astrophysicist. Is it just the science of treating people that he frowns on?

( Mike's version of criticism. )