Inject Me With 10 More Seasons of 'The Pitt'

I wake up in a cold sweat. My surroundings are unknown, all I can see is darkness. I clutch my chest in an attempt to catch my breath, but I fail. I feel the sensation of my throat closing, like an unquenchable thirst. Shakes convulse my body while shivers run down my spine. I know this isn't a nightmare, it's real life. I use what's left of my strength to muster up 3 words to shout into the void: "Need. More. Pitt."

I wish I was being hyperbolic, but that's actually how I feel when an episode of The Pitt ends and I have to wait a week for more. The season concludes in one week, and when it does, my body—currently young and strong—will wither away into a pile of dust. I'll forget how to walk, how to talk, I'll forget what a tree is. Thank god it has already been renewed for Season 2, so I'll just have to hibernate until January 2026.

Despite my undying and unwavering love for the show, it's hard to pinpoint what it is about The Pitt that makes it so special. It just has that rare sort of It Factor, or in this case, Pitt Factor. On face value, it seems like another run-of-the-mill hospital procedural, a genre I thought I had grown out of after spending my adolescence watching Grey's Anatomy, House M.D, and Scrubs.

After trying to convince everyone I know to start watching the show, I've developed an elevator pitch for any skeptics. I obviously start the main point of intrigue: the whole show takes place over one 15-hour-shift on one day, each episode an hour in real time.

“So, like 24?”

No. Not like 24, you simpleton. 24 wasted and tainted the ‘real time’ concept. The Pitt uses it as a story device to build tension for the audience, mirroring the very real sense of urgency that exists in emergency medicine. Doctors have praised the show for its accurate representation of the non-stop chaos of ERs.

Speaking of ER, I like to mention to any naysayers that the crew behind The Pitt were also behind ER, namely show-runner John Wells and star Noah Wyle. But make no mistake, this is NOT a sequel/spinoff/reboot of the 90s show—it's FAR better (I never watched ER, but I know this is true). Some people could easily say that The Pitt is just about a more grown up, hardened, exhausted Dr. John Carter. Those people are stupid and lack imaginative thought.

Dr. Michel “Robby” Robinavitch, Attending Physician of Emergency Medicine at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center is, objectively, the best doctor, and MAN, that has ever lived. “Dr. John Carter,” or whoever Wyle played in ER, could NEVER achieve level of virtue, altruism, morality, and RESPECT that Dr. Robby has.

That's why this show rules. The leader of the pack is just an amazing dude, a first-rate doctor, and a devoted mentor. His tolerance and goodwill is infectious, trickling down to every other doctor, nurse, and med student that works under him (with a couple exceptions, gotta have some drama). Watching really smart people do really smart things, all while being really good people, is comforting and cathartic on a molecular level. We need more supreme compassion on television, and obviously, in the world, which we're not getting, so get it from Dr. Robby and co.

There's also no antagonist character on the show. Sure, some awful patients pass through, but they don't last. The real villain is the American healthcare system. Underpaid and under-protected nurses. Understaffed hospitals. Overcapacity waiting rooms. Healthcare workers suffering mass burnout, and getting absolutely destroyed by PTSD from all the trauma they witness. The Pitt doesn't waste time on cheesy evil doctor storylines, they highlight the real-life horrors in medical care.

I also love, because of the real-time restrictions, there's no time for fluff or frills. No doctors are banging in the janitor's closet while their patients are in cardiac arrest. Personal life strife is checked at the ER doors. Dr. Robby can't even take a piss without being interrupted.

Poor Robby. The whole season/day has led up to his boiling point. How much can one man endure before he breaks down? I actually know the answer: rats infesting the ER, unjust patient deaths, trauma flashbacks, disloyal co-workers, anti-vaxxers, and a mass casualty event.

Robby may be a grown man, but he's my baby. I want to cradle him and rock him to sleep. That's how I feel about all—well, most—of The Pitt characters. Dana, the head charge nurse? She's mother. Mel, the nervous intern? That's my sister. Dr. Mohan, third year resident? Yeah, she's actually my wife.

I'm not ready for them to disappear from my living room after the finale. I'm broken without my Pitt crew. I crave my Pitt fix like I crave chocolate on my period. Withdrawal symptoms are already starting to take effect and I know the worst is yet to come. Does anyone here know a good way to recover from post-finale blues? A void-filler tip for Pittheads? A prescription for Pittpills? Hold on. Now that I think about it, if I let myself succumb to the pain, I just might get to take a trip to the emergency room…