Chapter 19: Working with the Spouse

"Dr. Shepherd-Hunt, we're backed up and need the space. Any idea when you'll clear the OR?" Owen asked his wife formally with great tension in his voice. She had been performing a surgery for the last three hours that had been scheduled to take just over an hour.

"The less I'm interrupted, the sooner I finish," Amelia responded with a hint of annoyance.

Owen pursed his lips and blinked his eyes. He hated interacting with Amelia when she was in surgery. The second she entered the OR; she became hyper-focused to the degree that any distraction or interruption was met with sharp words and a clipped tone. However, annoyed wife or not, Owen had a trauma coming in and two surgeries that needed an OR. The domino effect had fallen full force, as seemed to occur often on Fridays when nobody wanted to push a surgery to the following Monday nor work on a Saturday.

With a pragmatic tone, Owen attempted to nail down some details. "I understand that's the case, Dr. Shepherd-Hunt. I have surgeries stacked up and your procedure has run unexpectedly long."

"I'm fully aware of that, Dr. Hunt," Amelia snapped as her voice grew increasingly tense. "Believe me, if I could have prevented this patient from developing two aneurysms that were not spotted on the CT, I most certainly would have done so. It's amazing, isn't it, how adding a procedure lengthens the surgical time?"

Owen faced a no-win situation. Becoming firm with his wife in front of others, or even when the two were alone, was seldom a positive or promising option. Yet at this moment, he was Dr. Hunt, Chief of Surgery, not Owen, the husband of Amelia. He looked down at his tablet and declared with his best stoic and firm Major voice, "You have twenty minutes. I suggest you begin to close, Doctor." He walked out of the OR before Amelia could respond.

"Dammit!" Amelia exclaimed as the microforceps fell out of her hands and onto the floor. "Do we have another micro over there?" she asked the nurse.

The nurse handed Amelia the tool, only to have Amelia sigh heavily but respond calmly, "These have the serrated ring tip. I need the black handled flat tips."

"I'm sorry, doctor, the tray only had the one now on the floor," the nurse explained.

Amelia sat back and looked at the nurse, reflecting flatly, "Normally, that is more than sufficient. In this case…" she let out a long and loud breath, "What are my options? Could you show me the tray please?" Amelia examined the tray and nodded toward an instrument, "The bipolar coags – the ones with the blue tip on the end – those will do."

The nurse handed the instrument to Amelia and then asked, "Shall I request another sterilized flat tip, doctor?"

"Great question," Amelia muttered as she worked her new tool an inch deep. "These are sufficient." Then turning to Stephanie, Amelia added, "Edwards, please find Dr. Hunt and inform him that I will take no longer than two hours and that I am unable to close the patient at this time."

Edwards agreed readily, while her heart sank internally. If there was one downside to working on Shepherd's service, it was playing go-between. Sometimes, the request was to simply share a brief message. More often than not, her role was to deliver thinly veiled argumentative words back and forth. Stephanie found Owen and nervously shared Amelia's words, making sure she was clear that she was repeating a quote and not personally speaking to Owen herself.

She returned to the OR and repeated Owen's words, "Dr. Hunt asked me to tell you that two hours is unacceptable. At the most, he can offer an hour. He also asked me to say that next time, you might want to order an MRI rather than just a CT so you can better anticipate your surgical situation. Those were his exact words, Dr. Shepherd-Hunt. Not mine."

Amelia did not look up from the patient but sighed heavily. "Please waste your valuable educational time telling Dr. Hunt that unless he wants the hospital to face a lawsuit, I refuse to rush this delicate procedure. Also tell him that he will need to pry the tools out of my hands if he wants me to step away from this surgery before it is completed. Then remind him that I, not he, will be the one holding the scalpel in that scenario."

Stephanie groaned internally as she silently left the room. This time, she found Hunt in the ER in the middle of a trauma. He and Alex were working on an unconscious but breathing child who had been in a car accident. Edwards entered the room and confessed, "Dr. Hunt, I have another message from Dr. Shepherd, yet I'm fully aware you are deeply engaged in a trauma."

Alex looked up as he listened for a heartbeat and grumbled, "What the hell?"

"Give me the message, Edwards," Owen commanded as he examined the child.

Stephanie repeated Amelia's words and Alex remarked, "Wow. And I thought I'd dated some psycho chicks. Your wife has them beat, Chief. Threatening you with a scalpel, dude…"

"Quiet, Karev," Owen declared. "Edwards, did you see Kepner in the hall on your way in?" Stephanie nodded her head and said she'd seen April at the main station. Owen added, "Please ask her to come assist Dr. Karev. Stay down here – we have another trauma on its way, and we need your hands." Owen looked at Karev, "You got the lead on this, ok? I'll come join you in the OR shortly."

Karev nodded his head and offered, "Got it. Good luck."

Owen stormed up to the OR. In the elevator, he paced around the small space attempting to calm down. He was far angrier at the insubordinate surgeon than at his wife. Missing the OR floor because he was so consumed with his pacing, Owen stepped off the elevator at the next floor and stomped into the gallery. He hit the speaker button and barked, "Dr. Shepherd-Hunt. I have a seven-year-old, unconscious MVA victim in need of an OR. I have a woman who has been waiting for over an hour for an OR – Bailey is concerned the patient's appendix might burst. Also waiting for over an hour is another aneurism surgery being handled by the other Dr. Shepherd and an ex-lap…"

Amelia stepped away from the table and interrupted Owen with a sharp tongue, "What would you have me do, Dr. Hunt? Do you really want me to step away from completing surgery on this patient? Do you really want me to close now, then re-open the patient for another surgery tomorrow or whenever you have an OR available? I'm not crystal clear how your patient load is my problem. When I entered this OR, Dr. Hunt, my focus – my complete focus – was on saving this man's life. However, your constant interruptions and pressure have caused me to lose focus which has resulted in a lengthier surgery. Now this OR is unavailable to you even longer. Lastly, my resident is God knows where and I need another set of hands. What in the hell would you have me do, Dr. Hunt?"

Owen brushed his hand along his chin and in front of his lips. As Owen studied Amelia's eyes and shook his head, Derek entered. He had been looking for Owen to make his own case for the OR. "This patient is non-emergent, Dr. Shepherd-Hunt. Please step away from the table. Another neurosurgeon will be in to close." Owen shifted his gaze to Derek and commanded, "Your aneurism surgery is also non-emergent, so it has been bumped. It will remain bumped until there is room. Deal with it. While you are waiting, please go down to the OR, tag her out, and close the patient. I need that OR cleared within 10 minutes or I will have to close us to all incoming traumas."

After scrubbing, Derek entered the OR. Amelia was still at the table working on her patient and ignoring Owen's orders. Looking up from the surgical site, Amelia declared calmly, "Dr. Shepherd, I've got this handled. I'm beginning to close right now."

Derek walked over and stood very close to Amelia, whispering, "Amy, this isn't good for your job and it isn't good for your marriage. Step away before Owen breaks the glass in the gallery and jumps down here."

"Who the hell does he think he is?" Amelia whispered with a furious snarl just loud enough for only Derek to hear.

"Step away, Amelia. Nothing is worth this. Let me tag you out," Derek murmured. Derek turned toward the nurse and requested, "Black handled flat tips, please. Why was she using coags?" The nurse explained the dilemma and Derek continued with the tools available.

Owen remained in the gallery, periodically checking his watch and continuing to watch the OR. After Derek's second nudge, Amy stepped away, tore off her gloves, narrowed her eyes as she glared at Owen, and slowly left the OR. The moment Owen lost eye contact with her; he flew down the stairs.

Owen burst into the scrub area with his eyes on fire and his heart beating fast. His self-control was fading fast but, at this moment, he was still rational. Amelia was standing at the sink scrubbing out about to fly off the handle. When Owen stepped in, he stood in front of the sliding door. He basically, but unintentionally, trapped her in the room. Owen hissed quietly at her, "You're not to step foot in an OR nor interact with any patients the rest of this shift. We will talk later. Until then, you're benched."

Amelia threw down her scrub cap as her eyes filled with fury. She growled, attempting to manage her volume but sorely failing, "You do not have the authority to make that decision, Owen. And do not ever ask me to compromise my patient in an attempt to keep your dominoes from crashing into one another."

Owen folded his arms tightly and bore his eyes into her, "I don't have the authority? Pardon me, doctor?"

"You might recall Dr. Avery was appointed to oversee my performance for just this reason," Amelia reminded him.

Responding with an increasingly firm tone, Owen barked, "That arrangement does not preclude me from performing my job and fulfilling my responsibilities, Amelia."

"Get the hell out of my way," Amelia roared as she attempted to leave the room. Derek could hear her clearly as he completed the last few sutures. He looked up and shook his head.

"Mia…" Owen repeated. He put his hands on her shoulders and took an enormous deep breath. "Breathe."

Gritting her teeth, Amelia snarled, "I said get the hell out of my way and take your fricken' hands off of me."

Derek, having completed the procedure, walked into the scrub room. In the tone of an annoyed sibling, he insisted, "Amelia, get the hell out."

Amelia pushed Owen aside as Owen sighed and looked toward Derek. Derek looked up at his brother-in-law and asked, "She doesn't have car keys, does she?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes, Owen admitted, "We drove in together today, but I have no idea if she brought her keys or not." Shaking his head, he continued firmly but sadly, "I don't have time to chase her. I have a surgery waiting."

Owen stepped out of the room and saw Amelia pacing in the hallway. The noise of the door caused her to look up. Upon seeing him, she narrowed her eyes and lowered her brow like a wolf ready to attack. Before she could speak, Owen put his hand in the air motioning for her to stop. He warned softly, "I am on my way to a surgery. Not now, Mia. Not now."

"You son of a bitch," Amelia ranted loudly as she stormed past her husband. "If that patient suffers even one minor complication, it's on you." Owen continued silently toward the OR while taking numerous deep breaths.

After Owen and Alex successfully completed their surgery in relative silence, one followed the other as they scrubbed out. Since the quiet had allowed plenty of time to reflect, Alex had concluded that his earlier comment about Amelia and the scalpel had upset Owen. Alex commented as lightly as he could, "Hey, I'm…I'm sorry if I offended you earlier with that scalpel remark. I was out of line."

As he dried his hands, Owen looked at Alex and asserted, "Your comment might have been the most accurate statement of the day, Karev. You and I? We're fine. Nice work in there. Now, if you'll excuse me." Owen stepped out of the area expressionless.

Edwards waited anxiously in the hallway for Owen to emerge from his surgery. When she saw him, see called over, "Dr. Hunt? I have a message for you."

Nodding and looking exhausted, Owen came over and looked at Stephanie. She dreaded telling him the news, "Dr. Hunt., Dr. Shepherd-Hunt asked me to inform you that her patient's aneurysm burst, and she was unable to repair it. He died about 10 minutes ago."

Owen closed his eyes and took in a slow breath, mumbling, "Thank you, Edwards."

Meanwhile, when she saw Owen enter the hallway, Jo sprinted into the scrub area to catch Alex. "How was your surgery?" she asked with strong curiosity.

"Fine. Why?" Alex retorted as he dried his hands.

"Stephanie told me that Dr. Hunt demanded the Shepherdess to leave her OR and that he sent Dr. Shepherd – her brother – into her OR to close a patient. Apparently, after they made Steph deliver crabby messages back and forth, then Dr. Hunt stormed into the gallery. They were yelling at each other and he benched her," Jo revealed.

Alex shook his head and put his arms around Jo, "Just stay out of that crap. Don't watch it, don't comment on it, don't talk about it. Makes life a hell of a lot easier." Alex leaned down to kiss her, adding, "If some couple has to fight, I'm just glad it's them and not us." Patting her butt, Alex grinned and kissed her. Jo responded with a huge grin as they walked out of the room.