I’m officially over The Pitt’s resident savior complex, Dr. Robby.

In the first season, they set him up as the classic great ER doctor. He mentors the young docs, handles the impossible cases, and cares so much it practically hurts. Fine. That’s a solid character archetype. We’ve all seen it before, and it works.

But somewhere between Season 1 and this season, he apparently took a master class in How to Become a Narcissistic Douch Nozzle With a God Complex.

First, he’s shaming a doctor for having a panic attack. Really? This is the same guy who, in Season 1, was crying alone in an empty room because the job was overwhelming. Which, by the way, is perfectly understandable in an ER. People crack sometimes. It happens.

But apparently, when Robby melts down, it’s depth and humanity, and when anyone else does, it’s weakness.

Then every single episode turns into the same speech:

• What if the ER falls apart without me?
• What if the attending can’t run it properly?
• What if the doctors need me, or they’ll relapse, quit, or wander into traffic?

Buddy… it’s an emergency room, not a cult.

At least in Episode 12, Nurse Dana finally tells him what everyone at home has been screaming at the television:

You are not the only person in the world who can run this ER.

A reasonable person might pause and reflect on that.

Dr. Robby did not.

Because by Episode 13, he’s back on the exact same speech again. And then they end with the dramatic cliffhanger:

“What if I don’t come back?”

Okay.

Don’t.

Take the motorcycle trip. Ride into the sunset. Grow a bigger beard. Find yourself. Journal in a coffee shop in Montana.

Meanwhile, back at the hospital, another perfectly competent doctor will take the job, and the ER will continue operating.

You know… like it does every night shift when you’re not there.

At this point he’s become the most insufferable TV doctor since Hawkeye Pierce on MAS*H—and yes, I know that’s practically heresy to fans of Alan Alda, but Hawkeye’s self-righteous speeches used to make me roll my eyes too.

So now when Robby launches into another monologue about how the entire medical system depends on him, I’m yelling at my TV:

“GO ALREADY. TAKE THE THREE-MONTH MOTORCYCLE TRIP. THEY’LL BE FINE. VAYA CON DIOS, ASSHOLE”

Because the ER, like the rest of the world, will keep turning without you.

And honestly?

I could use a break from you.