As a doctor, it's easy to have a plan; we have maps of anatomy that allow us to know where to cut someone open. But sometimes we seek more than knowing; because as humans we are genetically programmed to seek approval. Whether we want acknowledgment for what we do or if we seek to elicit a response from a place it usually wouldn't come; all anybody wants is to feel adequate.
I woke up that morning to find Charlotte asleep next to me; I looked at the clock and knew that I had to get up. I wandered downstairs to find Derek eating his cereal and reading the newspaper.
"Good morning," I said kissing his forehead.
"Good morning," he answered grabbing me by the waist as I walked past. He pulled me back and kissed my lips.
"Mmm…you're in a good mood," I smiled.
"I get to kiss you everyday, for the rest of my life, why do I have a reason to be in a bad mood?" he asked.
I laughed and poured a cup of coffee.
Izzie and George soon made their way down the stairs.
"Good morning!" Izzie said cheerfully. "Hey, I heard Charlie last night, was everything okay?"
"I think she had a nightmare," I answered.
"Poor thing," George sighed. He put his hand on my shoulder. "She'll be fine,"
I nodded.
Later that day, I had my interns in the pit; it was hectic and overrun, which was really nothing unusual.
Bailey ran in.
"Grey, incoming trauma, ETA is about 2 minutes!" she told me.
"Let's go George!" I said to him.
We met the ambulance in the emergency entrance where paramedics pulled a young girl out on a gurney.
"What have we got?" I asked.
"Naomi Johnson, 15, complaining of severe abdominal pain! She's been given a light sedative, 5 of morphine for the pain," the paramedic informed us.
"Okay, clear a trauma bay, STAT!" I told George.
George rushed into a trauma and cleared it ready for the incoming patient.
I examined Naomi closely pushing my hands into her abdomen, finding any indication of tenderness, anything that would tell me right then what I was dealing with.
"Naomi, can you hear me, my name is Dr. Grey, I am just trying to find out what's wrong," I told her.
George looked concerned.
"Dr. Grey…" he said picking up her arm.
I looked at him.
"What is it George?" I asked.
"Look at how thin her arms are," he said. "She's fifteen and she looks like she's only about 85 or 90 pounds…which I'm guessing isn't healthy,"
I looked back at him.
"I see what you mean…what are you thinking?" I asked him.
"Bulimia, pressure of the forced vomiting has torn her stomach lining," he answered.
"Well, let's clear a CT and see if your diagnosis is right," I told him.
In CT George and I were waiting for the films from our new case; when they were available, we looked at them closely.
"There it is," I sighed. "It's a tear in the stomach lining…and if we don't operate…"
"It will rupture," George answered.
"Nice work George, go and book an OR," I said to him.
In the meantime Izzie and Alex were both on a case from Derek; a man's was gradually going blind from a tumour pressing on the optic nerve. But as the sparkle pager privilege would have it, I got a choice as to whether or not I would like to scrub in on the removal of the tumour. While the prospects of working with Derek were all too exciting, I turned it down; there was something about this case I was on that triggered a thought in the back of my mind.
I ran into Izzie as I made my way past the surgical board.
"Hey! I just paged you," she told me.
"Yeah," I answered. "Surgery's yours, I've got one that I'm pretty happy to stay on," I said, a little distantly.
Izzie raised her eyebrows.
"Are you sure?" she asked.
"Positive," I replied. "This case is probably one you will only see every so often; its one time where I think I can really make a difference."
Izzie looked concerned.
"Um, okay," she said. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," I replied. "Just thinking, I'll um…I'll see you later."
I kept walking where I met George in Naomi's room.
"How is she?" I asked.
"Stats are in the 80s, but she's stable," he answered as he scribbled something on the chart.
"Okay, well I'll just go get her labs and I'll meet you in the OR in an hour," I told him.
On my way to the cafeteria my pager started beeping incessantly. It read 9-1-1 for Naomi.
I ran back to her room and found her vomiting blood.
"What happened?" I asked Olivia.
"She woke up, said her stomach hurt and began vomiting blood," Olivia answered.
George ran in.
"George, call up to the OR, we need to get her into surgery now!" I told him.
I had Bailey and my interns in the OR within no time whilst I continued to repair the damage to Naomi's stomach; the problem was it was much more extensive than I had first anticipated.
"So, the question is why," I sighed as I shook my head. "She is 15 years old, absolutely beautiful and yet she does this…"
Bailey also shook her head.
"Self esteem is not as highly valued these days Grey; there are pressures in today's society…" Bailey almost sounded tearful. "But I am not going to open that book…"
I looked up at her, a little confused.
"Excuse me?" I asked.
"Don't go there Grey, lets just focus on controlling the bleeding," Bailey replied with a snappy tone to her voice.
