By noon, J.D. had been barked at by Dr. Kelso—who seemed like a sweet old man but had eyes like a shark—and had fallen hopelessly in love with Elliot Reid, a fellow intern who was currently having a nervous breakdown over a chart.

He looked over at Turk, who was walking out with a tired but triumphant grin. Sacred Heart was a madhouse, but it was their madhouse.

J.D. scurried away, finding refuge in the cafeteria where he spotted Turk. Seeing his best friend was like finding an island in a sea of chaos. Turk was already leaning into the "cool surgeon" persona, flirting with a nurse and eating a slice of pizza like he owned the wing.

"Deep breaths, Dorian," he muttered to himself, his internal monologue already narrating the scene like a low-budget indie film. "You're a doctor. A healer. A man of science."

"Coming, Bambi?" Dr. Cox yelled from his car, using the nickname for the first time. J.D. smiled. He survived day one. Only 10,000 more to go. D. and Dr. Cox evolved throughout the first season?

As the sun set on his first twelve-hour shift, J.D. sat on the hospital steps. He was exhausted, his feet ached, and he was pretty sure he’d prescribed a patient "apple juice" instead of insulin for a split second. But then, he remembered the moment he actually calmed a scared elderly woman in Room 212. He hadn't cured her, but he’d made her feel safe.

That confidence lasted exactly until they met Dr. Cox. Cox didn’t walk; he prowled. He spent the next five minutes delivering a rhythmic, terrifyingly articulate monologue about how J.D. was a "girl's name" and that his primary job was to stay out of the way so the patients might actually have a chance at survival.

"Relax, Newbie," Turk laughed, slapping him on the back. "We’re doctors now. We’re at the top of the food chain."