<table> </table> This summer I got to tour, at long last, the set of &#8220;ER,&#8221; the medical drama that begins its 15th and final season on NBC at 9 tonight on KSHB.</p><p>And I was reminded of why that show set everyone on their ear 14 years ago. Why the so-called &#8220;war of the hospital shows&#8221; turned quickly into a rout, with &#8220;ER&#8221; becoming the No. 1 show in television and &#8220;Chicago Hope&#8221; turning into a soap opera occasionally punctuated by Mandy Patinkin bursting into song.</p><p>As I stood in the trauma unit of County General Hospital on the Warner studio lot, and as I reflected on the battered drop ceiling and carefully arranged hospital gear and bedding, I was reminded of nothing so much as my one night in a real-life Chicago emergency room; of a bright-eyed young M.D. walking in and doing instant triage with a dozen or so of us arranged in a semi-circle; of waiting my turn on a gurney that smelled of urine while the guy with the bloody gauze around his head and other injured souls took precedence over my bread-knife wound; and of realizing there is nothing more democratic in this country than trauma care (this was before I knew anything about the uninsured).</p><p>&#8220;ER&#8221; was a revelation. The doctors on the show were handsome, and they inevitably fell in and out of love with each other, and they saved lives and all those things TV docs are supposed to do. But they also seemed like real doctors in the way they responded to each new case that came bursting into their sanctuary of work.</p><p>That&#8217;s why I was pleased to learn recently that Anthony Edwards, whose Dr. Mark Greene tried never to let his emotions show, whose competence felt hard-earned and not given to him by the script gods, will make an appearance this season. (To those partial to Noah Wyle, you already know his John Carter is coming back because you saw the commercial all summer.)</p><p>Even through the hostage dramas and multiple explosions (including the one that ended Season 14 in a cliffhanger) and other absurdities, &#8220;ER&#8221; never stopped trying to re-create the authenticity of being a patient, sick and fearful in a room full of strangers; or of being a doctor, being professional under fire, sardonically swapping stories with colleagues, dealing with incompetent and malicious higher-ups and doing things to kill the pain of not saving the world.</p><p>In a way, though, &#8220;ER&#8221; got stuck in the era of &#8217;90s television that it dominated. With rare exceptions (like the episode where Ray Liotta played a dying alcoholic), its patients seemed less true-to-life, the situations more outlandish, the doctors more like TV doctors.</p><p>TV shows became more complex and ambitious. &#8220;ER&#8221; was supplanted as the top-rated medical drama by &#8220;House,&#8221; a show that combines a disease whodunit of the week with a preternaturally smart solver who has the pathologies of any 10 doctors on &#8220;ER&#8221; combined. (Tellingly, an &#8220;ER&#8221; last April smacked of a &#8220;House&#8221; ripoff, with a hidden secret revealing a moral dilemma linked to a fatal ailment.)</p><p>And then there was reality TV. From &#8220;Trauma in the ER&#8221; to this summer&#8217;s surprise hit &#8220;Hopkins,&#8221; lightweight cameras and microphones have allowed TV crews to document all the drama and emotion of actual ERs without those pesky writers and actors. The ratings for reality medical shows can&#8217;t match &#8220;ER&#8221; at its peak, but then again, what show ever will? The point is, the realism of these unscripted shows made the scripted one seem contrived and hokey.