Scrubs is a much-loved show set in Sacred Heart Hospital. It follows lives of interns, residents and doctors. Dr. John ‘J.D.’ Dorian leads this crew, mixing comedy with drama. Unique humor, unforgettable characters and touching stories make Scrubs a cult hit. From Dr. Cox’s mentoring to Turk’s lovable silliness, every character adds their own charm. It’s a wild ride through hospital life, filled with laughs and heart.

Meet the twins from Scrubs

Elliot Reid

Elliot is this brilliant, anxious tornado of a doctor who somehow keeps her life together with color-coordinated planners and crying fits in the supply closet. She’s fiercely competent and sincere — like, will-make-you-a-PDF-for-empathy competent — but then she’ll trip over her own feet in front of a crowd and panic for ten minutes, so human. Loves therapy and self-help books and also hoards weird snacks (isn’t she allergic to one of them? maybe) and she’ll lecture you about boundaries five minutes after oversharing her entire dating history. There’s this adorable contradiction where she wants to be seen as professional but secretly lives for the quiet drama of clinic gossip.

J.D.

J.D. is the eternal daydream narrator who turns hospital corridors into cinematic montages — and yes, the internal monologue is half the charm and half the chaos. He’s whimsical, kind, and somehow always doing terribly romantic-but-terrible things (you’ll love and cringe simultaneously), with cartoonish fantasies one second and surprisingly deep insights the next. He keeps little trinkets in his locker and probably has a “man crush” shrine somewhere — also still uses his old show-and-tell toys as emotional support, I’m pretty sure. He’s annoyingly self-aware in a way that makes him endearing, and also oddly brave when it counts, even if he pretends not to be.

Carla Espinosa

Carla is the loud, warm, no-nonsense heart of the crew — she can cut you with a glare and then braid your hair during a code, like it’s nothing. Fiercely protective, hilarious, and utterly practical, she runs the floor with mama-bear energy and will shame you into being a better person while feeding you empanadas. Loves to organize everything (labels, lists, spreadsheets) but also has a chaotic drawer of secrets — pregnancy tests? old concert tickets? who knows — and will deny it with a smirk. She’s sassy, romantic in an unapologetic way, and somehow both intimidating and the safest person you’ll meet.

Dr. Cox

Dr. Cox is the curmudgeonly, rapid-fire therapist-in-disguise who insults you until you stop making terrible decisions — his rants are a performance art. Gruff, infuriating, unexpectedly tender, he refuses “mentor” while doing the whole mentor thing with brutal efficiency and a ridiculous number of metaphors. He’s obsessive about competence and hates feelings (but then quietly, maddeningly, supports them), and yes he’ll throw people across the parking lot for their own good — not literally, probably. He collects obscure zingers, keeps a suspiciously neat desk, and has a soft spot he’d never admit exists — except when he does, and ruins the moment with sarcasm.

Robert Kelso

Kelso is the delightfully jaded hospital chief who seems to love bureaucracy and the sound of his own resignation letters more than people, and yet sneaks out actual moments of warmth when you least expect it. He’s grumpy, politically savvy, and an absolute master of the dry, dismissive one-liner — I swear he’s got a spreadsheet of insults. Loves retirement in theory, hates everyone in practice, and sometimes drops absurdly wise comments that hit you like a surprise hug — or more like a well-timed punch. He’ll complain about feelings but then bribe you with donuts, be inexplicably sentimental about trivial trophies, and probably has a weirdly ornate mug he hides in his drawer.

Christopher Turk

Turk is energetic, flashy, and alarmingly skilled at both surgery and choreographing ridiculous victory dances in the OR — yes, the dance is essential to the healing process, obviously. He’s loyal to a fault, loves big gestures (and big shoes), and will cheer you on until you win or die laughing, whichever comes first. He acts macho but makes tiny homemade crafts for his partner and cries during romcoms he swears he hates — contradictions are his brand. Full of bravado, competitive streaks, and a giant soft center, he’s the friend who brags loudly then secretly practices the heartbreaking compliment until it’s perfect.

The Janitor

The Janitor is this gloriously unpredictable prank maestro who treats J.D. like a long-term project, meaning every day is a new small catastrophe or a cryptic scavenger hunt. He’s weird, inventive, and sometimes feels like a myth — one week he’s terrifyingly mysterious, the next he’s oddly helpful and also has an inexplicable fondness for rubber ducks. His backstory changes depending on who’s listening (veteran of six different wars? former pastry chef? maybe both), which is part of the charm, and he keeps bizarre collections that make sense only to him. Equal parts menace and mischief, he runs a parallel OS under the hospital that somehow actually keeps things interesting.