Chapter 36
A Pivotal Year – Owen and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad DayNolan 18, Lissa almost 18, Ryder almost 14, Olivia almost 11
Annabelle nearly 6, Victoria nearly 6, Lucas 4½
Saturday, January 1
After ending the previous year at the hospital by working the night before, having to work on the first day of the new year didn't seem just. Nonetheless, with the volume of patients expected, Owen and many of the attendings were reporting to the hospital on the Saturday night holiday. After a break from 6am – 3pm, Amelia had worked all afternoon and would return home that evening. Owen's shift would overlap hers by a few hours and he would be at the hospital overnight.
Heading to his closet, Owen pondered whether to wear a shirt and tie or stick to scrubs that night. After so much time on the floor the day before, he was backed up on paperwork. If he ended up in his office for most of the shift, a suit was a better option. Knowing the shift could head in multiple directions, he decided to wear a suit to the hospital and change into scrubs there if he ended up focusing on patient care. After grabbing a crisp white shirt he had just retrieved from the dry cleaners, he slipped it on and began to button it. The third button popped off and bounced down into the darkness of the lower closet.
"Dammit," Owen grumbled. He balanced on his knees fumbling around with his hand hoping to feel the button. Having no luck, he stepped out for a flashlight and returned to the floor of the closet. Flashing the light around the perimeter, Owen discovered that the button had made its way across the closet and had landed by Amelia's clothes.
Crawling over to the escaped button, Owen chuckled to himself. He imagined he was quite a site as he crawled around the closet floor with a dress shirt half-buttoned and a towel still around his waist. The button had landed by a paper bag that was hidden away in the corner. Wondering what it was, Owen grasped hold of the bag and dragged it out into the open. Sitting on the floor, he opened it and discovered Ryder's pot and paraphernalia. Amelia had completely forgotten to deal with the bag and had not yet had an opportunity to tell Owen about Ryder's drug use.
"What the hell?" Owen sounded slowly. "Amelia Shepherd…what the hell are you doing? So now it's pot? Oxy was too strong, alcohol was a problem, so now you're trying this? How long has this been going on?" After exhaling nearly every bit of air from his lungs, Owen set the bag aside and finished getting ready. He selected another shirt, one with all its buttons, and slipped on a pair of grey pants. After noticing a spot on the first tie he put on, he changed ties. Even getting dressed presented challenges on the first day of the New Year.
With the bag in hand, Owen made his way out the door and into the Boxster. The ER was a madhouse when he arrived. Interns were attempting unsuccessfully to properly triage the patients waiting to be seen, patients on gurneys lined the hallway, and drunks had been placed next to children in the curtain area. Owen fumed at the pandemonium and immediately assumed control.
"Hey, Handsome," Amelia quipped with a grin as she strode by her husband at the main desk. With a quick and disappointed smirk, Owen caught her eye and walked off. What the hell? Amelia thought to herself before proceeding to the consult in Exam One.
The patient in Exam One was altered and Amelia was concerned. Realizing no residents or nurses were available to transport the patient, Amelia began to accompany the patient to CT herself. When she arrived at the elevator, Owen was repeatedly and impatiently pressing the button.
"You know, the elevator comes just as quickly if you only press the button once, Chief," she teased, hoping to lighten the intense expression on his face.
"I need you down here. We have multiple neuro consults waiting," he sighed.
Amelia lowered her chin and peered at her husband, stating plainly, "Then find a nurse or resident to transport my patient."
With a paternalistic tone, Owen instructed, "Dr. Shepherd, I need you to focus on your job, not attempt to carry out tasks not assigned to you."
Stepping aside from her patient, Amelia walked within inches of her husband and mumbled through clenched teeth, "I'm the Head of Neuro. I'm capable of prioritizing my own workload and certainly do not need you micromanaging me. Knock it off."
The elevator door opened and Amelia wheeled her patient inside. Owen, headed up a few floors to check on the status of a surgery in progress, stepped inside as well. He stepped to the side and faced forward. Perhaps it was better to not even interact with Amelia until he had her alone and could tell her about the bag he'd found.
When the elevator stopped at Owen's floor, he stepped out and turned around. Right before the doors closed, he leaned in and advised as if he were speaking to an intern, "No surgeries – neuro or otherwise – without my consent tonight. Do not go near an OR without my knowledge."
Embarrassed to be bossed around in front of a patient, Amelia raged internally. The patient glanced up at her doctor quizzically. Amelia shook her head and shrugged, offering, "I guess it's the Chief's turn for a bad day." She wasn't about to admit that she was married to the over-protective ogre the patient had witnessed.
About 90 minutes later, the ER experienced a lull. Amelia, who had made her way through her list of consults, excused herself and headed upstairs to check on post-ops. As she rounded the corner and approached the OR board, she witnessed Owen erasing her name from every surgery she had scheduled for the following day. He replaced her initial with Derek's in each case.
"Is there a problem?" Amelia questioned with intensity as she rested her hands on her hips.
"Updating the board, Doctor. That's all," Owen stated without removing his eyes from the listing.
"Why are you erasing my name?" she inquired evenly.
"We'll talk later, Mia," Owen insisted as he gazed at his wife with disappointment.
"No," Amelia countered as she raised her voice slightly, "You will explain your ridiculous actions to me here and now, Dr. Hunt." The staff and doctors nearby gazed over.
"Don't do this, Mia," Owen warned softly with a shaking head as he gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "Not now… not here."
"Get your hand off of me," Amelia growled as she worked out from Owen's grasp. "Tell me what the hell you're doing and why."
"Let's go in here," Owen suggested as he attempted to guide his wife to a nearby on call room.
"Let's not," Amelia resisted.
"Amy…" Derek said gently as he approached.
"You and your wife are supposed to be watching half of my children. What's going on here?" Amelia questioned with folded arms as she glanced back and forth between the two men.
"Go in the on-call room," Derek urged quietly. He stared at her until she looked away, then encouraged with a hint of insistence, "Amy…go." With obvious fury, Amelia turned and did as her brother suggested.
After Owen followed Amelia into the room and closed the door, Amelia loudly unleashed her pent up rage, "Who the hell do you think you are?"
Leaning against the wall, Owen responded calmly, "I'm the Chief and I'm your concerned husband."
As she paced back and forth like a caged panther, Amelia's half opened eyes held contempt mixed with confusion. "What's that supposed to mean? What do you mean my 'concerned husband'?"
"Mia…" Owen slowly pronounced.
"Don't Mia me, Owen Hunt," Amelia seethed. "Why is my brother here?"
"He's assuming tonight's neuro cases," came the emotionless response.
"Are we going to play 20 questions or are you going to tell me what is going on?" she bellowed with folded arms and a scowl.
"Are you going to stop yelling?" he sought to confirm.
"What. Is. Going. On.?" Amelia inquired with a clenched jaw. "Tell me why my name is off the board…Now."
With a sigh, Owen slouched. His saddened, glistening eyes accompanied his heartbroken tone, "I found your stash, Mia."
"What are you talking about?" Amelia wondered aloud as she tilted her head and furrowed her brows.
"The bag. In our closet. How long have you been smoking?" Owen expressed as he melted into a seated position on a single bed.
"The bag in our closet? The one with a bong, a pipe and some weed?"
Owen pursed his lips and looked up at his still-infuriated wife. "Has it been too much lately? Maybe we need more help at home."
"It's not mine," Amelia retorted with hostility.
"Mia…" Owen shook his head. "You don't need to deny it with me, ok? We'll do whatever is necessary to get you the help you need."
"You son of a bitch," Amelia screamed. "You find drugs and automatically assume they're mine? Then you involve my brother in your unfounded hunches?"
Returning to a stone calm presence, Owen pushed, "Are you trying to assert that it belongs to Lucas? Or Anna, right? It's Anna's?"
"Ryder," Amelia disclosed without emotion.
With a huff, Owen tore his surgery cap off and ran his hand through his air. "Are you really throwing one of our children under the bus to avoid being caught red-handed? Is that an addict thing because I can't believe the Mia I know would try to blame one of her own children?"
"Really? Because I can't believe my husband is so quick to doubt me," Amelia articulated as her voice cracked.
Mostly to himself, but aloud, Owen sputtered, "I'm in over my head here. Maybe I should just take you up to mental health."
"Test. My. Pee.," Amelia demanded. "Follow me into the stall and watch me to make sure I don't cheat. Right now. C'mon."
"Mia, don't do this to yourself," Owen frowned with resignation and embarrassment on her behalf.
"Get off your ass and grab a drug kit. Do a blood test, if you prefer. If I come up dirty, slam me into mental health or haul me to rehab. If I come up clean, begging and pleading for forgiveness might be your best bet."
Without a word, Owen stood and attempted to put an arm around his wife before she hissed, "Do not touch me. Watch me, fine. Test me, no problem. Touch me? Nuh uh. No way." Quickly, Owen pulled his arm back and put his hand in his pocket. The two walked with purpose to the ER. Proceeding to an area where Owen could draw her blood, Amelia slammed her arm onto the small counter and glared at him.
Owen sat on a rolling stool. Uncharacteristically, he shook from all of the emotions he held inside. "Don't try to stick me with that unsteady hand," Amelia sneered as she grabbed the needle from him and drew her own blood. With surprise, Owen rolled back and watched his determined wife fill the vial and complete the process. He was impressed with her skill, yet also heartbroken. His assumption was that she learned how to smoothly stick herself during her battle with injected oxy.
With only one hand available to wrap her bandage, Owen reached out and softly suggested, "Can I help?" Shrugging one shoulder, Amelia agreed. Owen, still shaking slightly, wrapped her arm and stroked his thumb lightly along her skin.
"So do you want pee too or will blood be enough?" Amelia snapped.
With a hoarse and unsteady voice, Owen responded, "This is fine. I'll… uh… I'll be right back." He held the vial up to explain that he was headed to the lab. Locking his gaze on Amelia, his puppy dog eyes communicated his angst.
Without any gentleness whatsoever, Amelia barked, "Then go. What are you waiting for?"
Owen hurried to the lab, relieved to discover that there was no line. "Run this immediately, please. Full tox screen. I'll wait for the results," he explained to the person at the counter.
"I don't see a patient name, Dr. Hunt," the clerk pointed out.
"Jane Doe. I'll authorize the charge to Charity Care," Owen clarified.
As he waited in a chair, Owen worked his way through his emails. Since Ryder was home alone after a day of playing soccer, Owen sent a text to check in. Ryder responded promptly, reassuring his dad that he had eaten dinner and was behaving.
"Dr. Hunt?" the clerk called out.
Owen glanced up at his phone with raised eyebrows, "It's ready?"
"Absolutely clean, Doctor," the clerk announced as he handed Owen a read out. "Do you want me to run it again to confirm?"
"No…no," Owen shook his head. As he stepped away, he mumbled, "Thank you. That won't be necessary." Each step toward the ER was full of both relief and regret. Mia's blood tested out drug-free, now he had to face the reality that he'd been quick to conclude otherwise.
As he stepped in the room, Owen began his request for forgiveness, "Mia, look, I owe you an apol…" Looking around the space, he discovered he was alone. Amelia had left a note for him that read,
Thank Derek for taking my surgeries – it will be lovely to have some time off. Feel free to post my tox screen results throughout the hospital, so all can rest assured that the problematic addict remains clean. I'll leave bedding on the guest bed. You can tell the kids you didn't want to risk waking me up when you returned home.