Meredith rocks at her job. She's still the target of attack because she's a lowly intern trying to do the right thing and because a lot of people are still very jealous of her. Exhaustion is amplifying all the negatives and skewing her perspective so she can't feel the good she's doing. It is like the 'goods' don't count and the 'bads' count double.
Thank you to everyone who reads and reviews. I really love that. sam
The Intern
Chapter 2: Off to Work I Go
Dr. Grey dreamed of one hundred sixty five itsy-bitsy very sleepy happy faces on her inner scoreboard opening their heavy-lidded eyes and speaking to her. She tried to hear them but couldn't. Something was making too much noise. Finally tiny comic strip voice bubbles appeared above their heads. She squinted to read the tiny words. Wake up... wake up... wake up! Oh. Again? Okay.
The trauma pager was beeping shrilly. Meredith was up, yawning. She checked her watch. Not bad, three straight hours of sleep, yay. She checked the page. Surgical consult in the Pit for a burn victim. Mer decided she could make a two minute pit stop in the ladies, and then she'd have to have food and water on the fly.
Meredith sped into a ladies room. Every move she made was efficient and high speed. She heard a very fast version of Korsakav's "The Flight of the Bumblebee" in her head. Not good. No.
She used the facilities, washed her hands and face, and brushed her teeth with a small folding toothbrush, all the while avoiding looking in the mirror. Who wanted to see Frankenstein's bride reflected? She knew bed-head was still popular in Seattle, but hers could give Angela Landsbury a run for her money.
This hair sucks, maybe I should try dreads, Meredith thought morosely. A surgeon in dreads. What? It could happen. A tiny chorus of laughing happy face points in dreads appeared on her inner scoreboard, the letters lol floating above their silly heads. I'm losing it, lol. My brain on exhaustion is almost as bad as my brain on drugs.
Meredith ran for the Pit. She was trying to make up for the time she had stolen. She stuffed a bite of health bar in her mouth. It tasted exactly like cardboard, but it was supposed to have nutrients and calories, so whatever, everything tasted like cardboard. She dodged a group of laughing interns (wait, interns who had time to laugh? lol? her tired brain questioned) trying to catch the closing elevator.
Made it. Yay! ... No! ... Crap!
The elevator was already occupied by the happy, gorgeous, flawless He-She-Shepherds, Attendings, Surgeons Extraordinaire. Unhappy, ugly, flawed First Year Intern Grey maneuvered to place her back to the She and the She between her and the He. She managed to avoid eye contact, so she stuffed another bite of cardboard into her mouth. She chewed and chewed.
Don't even go there, she silently told the decidedly unhappy cow face that appeared chewing cud on her inner screen. It stuck its tongue out at her. She wanted to respond in kind, but didn't want the dashing duo to notice she'd lost her mind. The chorus of "Walk Over Me" played in her head. Depression settled somewhere around her thighs. Hey is that the original cause of thick thighs? Doctor, my thighs are getting fatter with depression. Works for me. The He and, worse, the She are now looking at my bride's hair and my thick thighs. Deal with it.
The elevator doors clanged open. The She stepped out, in her Claudia Ciuti pumps, snooty perfect nose in the air as always. Meredith uncharitably stared at her back wishing a bear would eat add-a-sin's left shoe. What? It could happen.
The house mates who spent more time in her mother's house than she did, stepped on the elevator from Hades. Each held brown paper sack lunches and bottles of water. Meredith eyed them even as she urged the elevator to get a move on.
"You owe me," she whispered through parched lips and cardboard crumbs. Everyone heard her in the cloistered silence of the elevator. The He shifted behind her as if preparing to speak. No.
"What?" they said, confused, the dummies.
"Sixteen hours each, count 'em." she tried again, gesturing to the manna from heaven, "I haven't been home in five days. I'm starved. Share."
"This? But...," George and Izzie were done in by her thin cheeks and grey complexion, not to mention Shepherd's meaningful nod. "Okay," George handed over his lunch sack. Izzie surrendered her water.
Meredith unwrapped a turkey sandwich on whole wheat and ate it, efficiently and speedily, in one and a half floors. The Izzie deluxe chocolate cupcake took another floor and a half. She shoved the carrot, celery and bell pepper sticks in a pocket for later. Mer drank the water in one long continuous pull. Everyone stared at her. She couldn't remember the last time she ate food that tasted like food so...
Let them stare,
What do I care?
Mine to bear,
Do or dare.
Aagh! Where were these thoughts coming from? Doggerel, now. It had to be the proximity of McDreamy's sexy lips to her exposed neck along with the wafting fragrance of expensive cologne combined with his unforgettable male scent. Yeah, that was it. It was all his fault for wafting... wafting was bad... very bad... keep all waftiness to yourself, I say... I think I'm so tired I'm punch drunk... Yep.
Meredith handed the emptys back to Izzie. Bottom floor.
"Thanks. Gotta go, emergency in the Pit." Meredith ran out the doors as soon as she could slip through. George and Izzie looked at each other stunned.
"I think we just got mugged." Izzie declared.
George nodded, "Yup, it was masterful. Couldn't resist."
"She ate, that was the important thing," Shepherd looked wistfully after Meredith's running figure. She hadn't looked at him once. His jaw ached from gritting his teeth.
Meredith is not my girlfriend anymore, I have a wife. A wife who wants a genuine second chance. Will she start to matter again to me if I say it fifty more times?
"Whatever." They shrugged and wandered down the hall.
ooo
"Dr. Grey, you're the surgical consult?" asked a brown clad ER nurse named Tolliver who looked as dragged out as Meredith. Come to think of it, Meredith had seen him on duty almost every time she was in the Pit, night or day. She handed him the rest of her health bar, and he sighed with relief as he jammed it whole into his mouth and chewed... and chewed. He grimaced. Meredith was glad to see it wasn't just her that thought of cardboard while eating one of those things.
"Yes, what do we have?" asked Meredith. She was following the nurse through a forest of tall firefighters still decked in a lot of protective gear. They seemed to be everywhere. An older black man with a captain's insignia and grey sprinkled throughout his hair stopped her with a touch on her arm.
"Dr. Grey, its one of my men again. He's burned pretty badly. We were working a fire in a three story building. He was clearing the bottom level when the second floor caved. He may also have head and neck injuries. Several others have smoke inhalation."
Meredith nodded as she listened to the captain. He'd already been in twice last week with two other injured men, both times in the dead of night when she'd been the intern on call. One had a six inch long splinter piercing his eye socket next to the eye. Meredith removed it with no complications, performing the minor surgery herself after MRI pictures revealed she could. The other was a gunshot wound to a fireman's leg from a drunk taking potshots at a blaze. That was a four hour surgery. Now this. This was similar to another fire fighter's injuries.
She remembered Holden McKee, the man she'd awakened from a sixteen year sleep at Thanksgiving. He'd had the same type of injury. Unfortunately, he'd died on Shepherd's operating table the same day he'd awakened. Captain Brewer had told Meredith he'd known Mr. McKee. They'd been rookies together in the company he now captained. He'd told her several times how grateful the men were that she'd "found" Holden, even though he later tragically died.
She indicated the hall outside trauma two, knowing the captain and his men would wait in the hall, not the waiting room. The ER resident immediately recited injuries, vitals, drugs, etc. to her in rapid fire medico speak. The miracle of three uninterrupted hours of sleep had helped Mer. She got it all in one take.
She quickly examined the burns under the sterile wet dressings on the fire fighter's neck, shoulder, chest and hands. Mercifully his face was spared and he was unconscious. Everything was complicated by head and neck injuries. Meredith thought she felt two injured areas on his skull. One pupil was non responsive. Meredith confirmed the need for plastic surgery and a neuro consult. She ordered Monahan and Shepherd paged.
She charted all appropriate information quickly, while the ER team continued to strip all gear off the man. Meredith palpated the man's bones, and abdominal organs, checking him all over for possible further injury. She consulted with the ER doc over shock protocol that wouldn't compromise anything since the man was likely going in for a craniotomy.
She was sure Shepherd was going to order a CT so she speed dialed CT scheduling to check for availability, then alerted OR scheduling of a probable new entry. She'd discovered the earlier she let people know about these things, the easier it was on everyone, including herself. Another benefit of the long intense hours she'd put in. The staff was beginning to appreciate her methods.
She stepped into the hall to give an update to the captain when EMTs blew through the doors with a new patient in full cardiac arrest. She indicated trauma one and stepped up to take over compressions.
"Fifty seven year old male, collapsed while setting up a Christmas tree," the EMTs rapidly sketched out all vital statistics, drugs and procedures already done, "History of heart attacks and high blood pressure."
Meredith added further IV orders. She stepped back and took the defibrillator paddles.
"Charge to 200. Clear." The man's body convulsed with the shock.
"Nothing, doctor." Chest compressions resumed.
"Charge to 300. Clear." Tensions heightened when nothing happened again.
"Push one of epi, charge to 300 again. Clear." The shock raised the man off the table.
"Nothing, push 2 of epi, charge again. Clear" Meredith held her breath.
"Sinus rhythm, Dr. Grey. We got it." Relief swept the room. Her inner scoreboard lit with happy face points doing the Stallone-Rocky victory dance, arms in the air. The Rocky theme music played triumphantly in her head.
Not now.
"Next of kin?" Grey asked.
"His wife was going to follow us here. You'll be able to get the complete history from her. Are we cleared?" the EMT asked, picking up equipment, "See ya, doc."
For an instant Meredith's eye was caught by the EMT's delectable tush walking away from her. A leap of hope made her breath catch. Maybe she could get over Shepherd. Maybe other guys would actually start being attractive again in their own right, rather than as fill-ins for the Dreamster. What? It could happen.
Tolliver swooped in starting a new IV and administering the meds Dr. Grey rapped out. She scribbled notes on the man's chart.
"Page the cardiothoracic resident on call. His blood pressure is not stabilizing to my satisfaction. Put him on high flow oxygen. I'm in trauma two if you need me." Grey said.
"Yes, doctor."
She once more started to update Captain Brewer.
"Dr. Grey, we need you now," an older serious faced ER nurse called imperatively.
"Report." Grey rushed into the fireman's trauma bay.
"He's stopped breathing." The nurse rattled off more medico speak to Grey, that sounded like gibberish to Captain Brewer who was standing in the doorway. He watched Dr. Grey's face. She frowned as she ordered different drugs and respiratory assists. Her thin face was focused. He knew she was a rookie, but she was good luck for Engine Company 9. She worked hard and long. She knew her stuff. He believed his men were saved by Dr. Grey three times already. If anyone could help Igawa it was Dr. Grey.
Dr. Shepherd rushed in. "Talk to me." He took in everything in a glance. Dr. Grey filled him in as he examined Igawa. "Why haven't you paged plastics?"
"I have, sir. Dr. Monahan has not responded yet. Nurse, please page Dr. Monahan again," Meredith was frustrated with Monahan since he hadn't bothered answering her pages last night or this morning.
Tolliver poked his head in. "Dr. Grey, Dr. Hart is here for the cardio consult in trauma one."
Shepherd looked up. Meredith waited for orders, completely professional, "Schedule him for a CT, then have respiratory put him on a respirator. Consult plastics, they'll have to work at the same time I have him. Schedule an OR and have my 12:00 surgery rescheduled, this man takes priority," he said, and then paused. He stole a single moment to look at his Meredith heart to heart. His face softened and his world felt balanced again, once a connection with Meredith was reestablished. God, he missed her. "Go."
"Yes, sir." Dr. Grey sped into the next bay. She was back to drowning in McDreamy eyes. He could melt her with a look.
What's up with that? He made a choice and it wasn't you. He doesn't love you! No one does and no one ever will! When will you listen?
Meredith focused on work – Mr. Jones needed her. Dr. Hart was a fifth year cardiothoracic resident. She was beautiful in a blond Nordic way. Hart had thought she had a chance with the cute new attending until everyone found out he had both a wife and a girlfriend. Then Yang snagged Burke, the other cute attending. Two first years dating attendings and getting away with it. The first year in front of her even had one of the foremost surgeons in the world as a mother. She probably had it made in med school. Disappointment and jealousy made Hart venomous.
"Dr. Hart," Meredith rattled statistics off for this patient. Hart rapidly returned orders. They stepped into the curtained section between trauma bays. Hart was unaware of the pack of silent firefighters outside two or Tolliver and two techs softly opening the door to one or Shepherd and three nurses in two. It was a rare moment of quiet in the Pit.
"If he needs a bypass today, Burke is available this afternoon. This is going to take some time, and I don't have it. Today I'm leaving early and I'm taking tomorrow off. It is Christmas Eve, after all, some of us aren't alone over the holidays," she sneered pointedly, "Oh that's right, I forgot, you are alone. Crazy locked up mothers don't count," her face hardened, "Take care of scheduling, tests, and pre-op. And don't tell Burke I sent this patient to him. Grey, you need the practice of real work anyway, now that the option of sleeping your way up with Shepherd has closed. Or do you have your eye on someone else now?"
Hart waited for the little nothing to say something back so she could annihilate her. Grey didn't hesitate or blink. The comments were mild compared to some. She'd learned the best thing to do was to put absolutely no energy into it – to not respond in any way. She didn't talk when bad things happened. Everyone in three areas froze. The nurses in trauma two shivered at the look on Shepherd's face. This was one of Shepherd's first exposures to Meredith's fate. He knew people had talked, but it was still going on? And with such spite? Exactly how much of this had Meredith endured? Dr. Hart, huh? She was one of Burke's. They'd have to have a chat, department head to department head.
The nurses and techs and orderlies in the Pit had heard far too much of it and were long over it. Word was Head Nurse Debbie in surgical was also long over it. Grey did her job and didn't slack which couldn't be said for some. So what if the girl dated an attending for a few months when he was separated from his estranged wife. She wasn't dating him now and no one had ever seen her ask for favors from anyone, let alone Shepherd. Wasn't Burke dating her best friend? Wasn't the Chief of Surgery her mother's friend? She could use those connections if she wanted, and she didn't. Plus she took good care of her sick mom. People were starting to get fed up. Leave her alone.
"No, doctor, any further orders for this patient?" With pain and defeat clenching her gut Meredith was already starting out the door when the deflated blond shook her head. Three tiny monkey face happy faces did the classic "see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil" hand positions on her inner screen.
Shut up. Who asked you?
Meredith stepped out and faced stone-faced fire fighters. She cringed inside, embarrassed by what she was sure they now believed of her. She glanced at the trauma doors and realized it was likely both rooms had overheard Hart's remarks. Derek had heard. Her cheeks burned with shame. Emotional and physical exhaustion combined to demoralize her.
The good opinion of these co-workers and firefighters had meant something to her. She couldn't even use her inner scoreboard to cheer herself up. Before the men could say anything she filled them in on their friend's condition and prognosis. She asked for information on her patient's emergency contact and any other relevant information they had on him. She told Captain Brewer she'd check with the ER Doc on how his men with smoke inhalation were progressing. She couldn't meet his eyes.
She used work once again to move past the hurt. Each time she did it, it became more difficult to carry out. It was harder to pretend she was fine. Her load was becoming unbearable. She felt like a little burro forced to carry ten times its weight, struggling steeply uphill on a narrow cliff. A deep chasm stretched out below. Meredith brushed both hands over her face and sternly told herself to get over it. Life was tough all over.
After Shepherd and Hart both left, Meredith got on the phone again and carried out their orders. She left a message for Dr. Burke about the new potential surgery and asked for a consult with him when she had the MRI results. She drew blood from both patients for labs and let Mickey, the tech in testing, know it was coming. Meredith signaled a runner to take the blood to the lab. She had Monahan paged a third time. She ordered sterile dressings renewed and rewet on Igawa. The heart patient's wife, Mrs. Jones, had arrived and after Meredith calmed her down, was filling in his history. Oh yeah, take a breath.
Still no Monahan. She paged the senior attending on duty in plastics. She prepared Mr. Jones, the cardiac patient, for transport. She let the orderlies know they'd be ready to go as soon as she heard from plastics for Igawa.
Dr. Baker from plastics finally arrived, Alex Karev in tow. Alex was often assigned as general factotum intern for plastics since that was his desired field of specialty. He winked at Mer and smoothly moved to stand near her. Baker was irascible at best. Meredith knew from hard experience the only way to handle him was to apologize repeatedly for living, followed by accolades and huzzahs for his giant ego, followed by more apologies for ever being born.
"Mea culpa, mea culpa, I am but a lowly scum-sucking intern, your most high lordship, mea culpa," she said under her breath. She regretted it immediately when Tolliver and Alex chuckled. She thought she'd made the snarky comment in her head as usual. A tiny alarmed happy face with round O eyes and mouth held a hand up in a stop signal on her internal scoreboard.
Watch it, Mer.
"Why was I paged," Baker demanded, "Monahan is on call, not me. It's Christmas Eve and I'm not staying late because a lazy first year intern can't do her job. Aren't you the one who had me paged for surgical this morning too?" Everyone stared at Meredith, eyebrows raised. Lazy?
"Dr. Baker, Monahan has not answered his page now or earlier. I think someone should start checking on him, sir. Something may be wrong. Perhaps someone in your department...?" Meredith raised her eyebrows at him. He ignored her.
"I'm sorry for the inconvenience. This patient is critical and you are the best , sir," Meredith flattered him shamelessly, Tolliver smiled behind Baker's back, "He's going in for a craniotomy as soon as we get test results and your consult. Dr. Shepherd asked me to have the best plastic surgeon join his team in the OR as Firefighter Igawa has extensive burns. He is barely stable, sir. If you could please examine him. This way, sir." Meredith continued to cajole, inform, apologize and flatter the old surgeon until she and Igawa had everything they needed. At least Dr. Karev was now assigned her firefighter, halving her work.
She signaled two orderlies and Alex. They moved both patients into the elevator. She leaned against the back wall, braced her hands on the waist high rail, and closed her eyes. Her nerve endings burned with fatigue.
I'm sinking low now, lower and lower. I'm drowning.
She updated Alex, without opening her eyes, on all the arrangements and work she'd already completed for Igawa.
Is this what burning the candle at both ends actually feels like physically? Mm.
"Thanks Mer, I didn't mean to steal your surgery, you know. You're a friend. Shepherd is bound to still let you in on the neurosurgery portion," Alex tried the earnest approach. He really liked Meredith and didn't want her to think he'd deliberately hijacked her case.
She opened her eyes and admired his slick delivery and earnest little boy expression. He could sell her just about anything right now, her resistance was so low. She looked at his handsome face and smiled – really smiled in true amusement, no bitterness. Then tears came to her eyes. Alex watched the myriad of thoughts and emotions cross her tired little face and felt bad. He knew she'd had it rough, all of Bailey's interns knew. She kept on slugging though, even when she was against the ropes. He wished he could help her out. Ring a bell maybe, call time out. They followed the orderlies pushing their patients' gurneys down the hall.
Alex ran a light hand over Meredith's dark honey hair, "Listen, you need anything, just ask. Okay?" Alex shifted uncomfortably when Mer smiled through tears at him again. Meredith let herself soak in the rare offer of friendship and support.
"Thanks Alex, I'm good, but I'm going to take a raincheck on that, okay?" Meredith waved to him as she directed her patient to MRI, and Alex split off to get to CT. Meredith felt marginally lighter. A little boy happy face pushed a little girl happy face on a swing set in the playground of her mind.
Please write me. Thank you. sammie.