He sat in the waiting room - again.
Worrying - again.
And quite frankly, blaming himself - again.
He had just stood there when the alarms went off, holding on to her hand. He hadn't known what to do. Everything had passed by him through a haze as they rushed her back into the OR.
A new bleed? How did they miss that? How did I miss that? I should have noticed it! I am a doctor!
Owen thought to himself. He had felt so helpless when Amelia began to seize.
God, she had just started to wake up! He was just getting her back! She seemed better! And then that?
It's my fault! I should have noticed!
Damit!" He whispered between clutched teeth, tears welling up in his eyes again.
They had just gotten back together. They were working past things. Yes, she was different after they removed her tumour but…
Oh god! What if she has complications because of the prior surgery? What if she has neurologic deficits when she wakes up? What if she can't be a surgeon anymore?
Owen coundn't stop this train of thoughts that was rushing towards him.
She will be devastated if she can't operate anymore. What if that causes her to relapse? It will be my fault. I wasn't there. I should have been there. It's my fault.
He couldn't be doing this. He couldn't just sit here. But then, on the other hand, he didn't know what to do. There was nothing he could do. Nothing but worry. Worry and blame himself.
He felt so helpless it hurt. All of the sudden he felt sick. He got up. He felt really sick. He ran towards the restroom across from the waiting room. As he entered he passed Jackson who was washing his hands but he didn't say anything to him, instead hurrying into one of the stalls. As soon as he entered the stall he threw up, tears flowing down his face. All the feelings, all the pain, the fear and the guilt were there. Right there and he couldn't suppress them anymore.