This exists between "Great Expectations" and "Wishin' and Hopin'", hope you like it.
Addison was used to pregnant women sent to her when their usual obstetrician was unsure of their patients' condition. However, recently, they had been sending her an inordinate number of patients who required no surgery. She hoped that this case would not follow that trend and that she could treat a woman who truly needed her help. The chart didn't help her to determine this but she hoped that personal interaction would make the situation clearer. Down the hall, Bailey led her interns like baby ducks towards the Pit and their assignments, reminding Addison of her necessities for the day.
"Bailey," she called out, dashing to catch up. "I need an intern." Miranda Bailey barely took a moment to think, pointing Alex Karev in Addison's direction before leading the remaining interns towards the ER.
"What's up?" Alex was infuriatingly calm about the next patient, a calm that Alex always exuded and usually helped to calm down his patients when he wasn't acting like a complete ass.
"Our patient is female, 29 years' old, and 7 months pregnant," she stated quickly, moving towards a patient room at the end of the hallway. "Her regular obstetrician diagnosed her with hyperemesis gravidarum just as she began her second trimester. What is hyperemesis gravidarum, Karev?"
Alex stopped just short of the patient's room before rattling off," HG is the constant morning sickness and nausea that afflict some pregnant woman. It prevents them from taking in adequate amounts of food and fluids."
Addison allowed herself a brief smile, noting that Alex had delved into some of his general study in obstetrics and gynecology. "About how many women are afflicted with HG?"
"Estimates range from 0.3 to 2," he said as he opened the door for Addison. In the hospital bed sat a very frail woman, her pregnant belly incongruous to her thin cheeks and the shadow under her eyes. She looked like a teenager suffering from bulimia, a theory enforced by the scowl she gave to the surgeon and the intern. The man by her bedside stood up, his hands compulsively smoothing the nonexistent wrinkles from his pants.
Addison came to the foot of the bed, smiling warmly at the woman in the bed. "Hello, I'm Dr. Montgomery. And you're Grace Young." The woman only nodded so Addison turned to the man, reaching out a hand. "You must be Mr. Young."
"No," came the sour reply from the woman. "That's my brother, Thomas. There is no Mr. Young. Not anymore at least."
"Grace, they're just trying to help," said Thomas sensibly, his hand going to her hand, which was already attached to an IV.
"Helping would be to stop my vomiting and making it so that my sense of smell is more human," she growled at him. "Helping would be to get me out of this awful place and into any of the other hospitals in the Seattle area." Her voice cracked as she described the hospital and some tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes.
Addison didn't quite understand this outburst but she said, "Grace, I understand that this is hard for you, but we're going to do our best to make it more pleasant. Is there anything I can do to help you?"
Grace settled her glare on Addison, eyes still shining with tears. "You have no idea how hard all of this is for me. You can help me by treating me at Mercy West or Seattle General or anywhere but here. You can get me as far away from this place as possible, and with luck, further away from all of the surgeons here."
Addison looked taken aback and tried to say something but Grace continued, unabashed. "You stop treating me like I'm stupid or crazy. You can do whatever it takes to get me better so I can get out of this place and have my baby in 2 months. In the meantime, I don't really care to be your friend."
Alex looked like he would explode with a mean-spirited reply as Addison caught him by the arm and dragged him out of the room, acquiescing to Grace's request. She silenced Alex's excuse and stated simply, "She's our patient and we have to respect her wishes."
"That doesn't mean she has any right to be a bitch!" Alex looked like he would pop a gasket as he paced the hallway. "And what was that crap about getting her away from her hospital? This is the best hospital in the whole city, the whole state! And you're certainly the best neo-natal specialist on either coast so she has no right to treat you like crap!"
"She isn't usually in such a bad mood," said a reasonable voice from the doorway. Addison directed her furrowed brows at Thomas, who closed the door softly behind him. "It's a combination of the nausea and this place."
"She made it pretty clear that she doesn't want to be here but no reason why," Addison said as a look of grim remembrance came across Thomas' face.
"Her husband died here," he stated.
"People die here all the time," Alex replied sensibly.
Thomas glared at the intern, a look reminiscent of his sister's. "Dylan blew up. As far as I know he's one out of two that died that way."
There was a moment of silence in which Addison knew exactly why Grace had been so foul before. No doubt, it was exactly how Addison herself would have reacted had Derek died that fateful day. But the problem with this moment of clarity was that Derek had not died in the bomb explosion. Dylan Young, lieutenant in charge of the Seattle Police Department bomb squad, had carried the bomb down that hall, away from endangering the surgeons and patients on the floor, only to be caught in the explosion that had killed him and one of his men. Now, Addison was treating his pregnant widow, almost a year later.