Chapter 15 - SeaTac
Meredith involuntarily had been to a lot of retirement homes in her life. Working as a Notarzt inevitably got her called to at least one nursing home per shift. She had seen her fair share –the good, the bad, the pretty and the ugly – and had soon decided that she would never voluntarily move in such a facility. They had known by address alone which were the good places and which were depressing to an almost dehumanizing degree.
Nowadays she spent several hours a week visiting her mother. She had to admit, she had never seen a home such as Roseridge in Munich. It was an American thing. The property was extremely nice and well kept, the building felt like a high-end resort, the nursing staff was lovely and very competent, her mother's room was modern and could be personalized with own pieces of furniture, linens, and décor – the possibilities were endless. And yet it was still a nursing home. A nursing home that focused on dementia patients. The windows were locked and the doors to the outside world could only be opened with a code – a very simple code. The sad reality was that by the time most residents moved to Roseridge, their dementia had progressed to the point that even the simplest six-digit code was too difficult to remember. Knives, scissors, candles, matches, or lighters were all locked away and all potentially dangerous liquids and substances were forbidden. The building was childproof. All those measures were sadly necessary to keep its residents safe. It was essentially a very nice prison with a very high price tag.
Meredith pretended to stare out the window, wondering why she came. Her mother sat across from her at the table in the window nook of the common area. Ellis had a stack of papers in front of her. Old medical flies and research notes that Meredith had brought her. Meredith knew her mother, she knew what her true passion was – medicine. While other loved ones brought their family members their favorite books or made photobooks, Meredith brought her mother medical journals or printed research off the internet. What kind of information Ellis retained shocked Meredith every time. Ellis was able to have a full in-depth conversation about general surgery or the human anatomy but wasn't able to recall a single personal memory from the last fifteen years.
It was emotionally draining to sit with her mother pretending to be someone else every visit – to give everything and never get anything in return. Since the diagnosis Meredith had read a lot of research on Alzheimer's, she had talked to experts, all to understand her mother's disease better. She had gained a lot of knowledge that frighted her on one hand and on the other put her a little at ease. Medically she understood, she knew what neurodegenerative meant, what it looked like on an MRI, what kind of disease progression she could expect, and how it would end someday. As a daughter, she had a hard time adjusting to the new reality. That this was it, that her mother didn't know who she was anymore, that Ellis was stuck in some past reality that Meredith wasn't a real part of. That the last eleven years that they had spent separated by an ocean would be the best years they ever had together – the only years they shared some mutual understanding. That she would most likely never have an honest, insightful conversation with her mother again.
It was pitch black outside. Instead of watching the rain pattering on the branches of the many trees outside, Meredith was watching the other occupants of the common room in the reflection of the window while she pretended to listen to her mother's monologue. There was the husband who came every day to read to his wife, sometimes he came with one of his kids or grandkids. There was the daughter who came every Thursday afternoon with freshly baked goods to visit her father. Every day he had a different visitor, someone to sit with him to talk and keep him company. There was the woman who always drew when Meredith came to visit. From time to time, a group of older ladies sat with her – all they ever did was paint together. She never talked. She seemed content with her art. There was the man, with the loud deep voice who liked to tell the same stories over and over again. His eyes lit up when his teenage grandson came to visit to play Yahtzee with him. There was the revolving group of residents who always sat together to drink tea or coffee and talk. They never shared the same conversation topic and talked past each other. It was very amusing to watch, but neither seemed to care much.
And then there was Ellis, who in her mind was still the great two times Harper Avery Award-winning surgeon, published author, and authority figure. She liked to order people around, argue with them, and give them random unsolicited medical advice. She had a couple of failed escape attempts, she liked to refuse to eat or take her meds. She had stolen statoscopes and other medical supplies from the nurses when they weren't looking and in general, was a very complicated resident with a tendency to be combative. Above all she was lonely. While most other residents had a revolving cast of visitors, Ellis' only visitor was Meredith.
The visits became more and more emotionally draining for the young doctor. She never knew what she walked into. Her mother needed the visits for her mental health and Meredith graved a break from the visits to keep herself mentally healthy.
Today was no different. It had started as every time she came to visit. Ellis assumed who Meredith was, gave her a name and Meredith had to figure out her assigned role for the day. Sometimes she was a subordinate, a friend, a colleague, a friendly colleague, a patient, or just someone unspecific that she would tell whatever was on her mind. Today Meredith's role wasn't clearly defined, the conversation had shifted at some point. Away from the mundane work meeting to an honest conversation between two friends. The topic made Meredith very uncomfortable. For the last twenty minutes, Ellis had been talking about her affair with Richard in terrifying detail and had been dishing out her marital problems.
Meredith had never lost too much sleep over why her dad had left and why he had stopped caring about her. From the moment Meredith had moved to Boston her life had been anything but normal, not having her dad around was just another part of it. Of course, she had wondered and had asked questions but had never received any satisfying answer. The topic of her father and Seattle had become a tabu. Over time she got used to the feeling of being left behind and forgotten. It became part of her childhood just as having a new au pair in the house every year.
Meredith had tried not to dwell on the past and had put all her energy into building a better brighter future for herself. However, over the last few months, Ellis had kept bringing up Meredith's early childhood revealing more and more pieces of the bigger picture, which neither painted her mother nor Richard as saints. Today was especially hard.
There had been a lot of victims, her father, Richard's wife, partly even her mother, but the biggest of all had been Meredith herself. She had been an innocent child who had become a playball in a petty adult drama game. She had seen things that no child should have ever seen. She had watched her mother try to take her life, had watched her pass out before she had called 911. She remembered that day like it was yesterday. She remembered hearing her mother cry herself to sleep every night for weeks. She remembered the time her mother had been a shell of herself for months. She remembered walking home alone from the bus stop as a kindergartener back in Seattle, using the key under the doormat to let herself in because Ellis has forgotten to pick her up. She remembered worrying about her when she didn't show. She remembered her first day of first grade in Boston when Ellis had forgotten to pick her up and she had sat with her teacher for two additional hours after school had ended. She remembered the nights in Boston when she had climbed into Anna's bed because she had been woken up by nightmares again. Meredith remembered everything, but Ellis didn't. Ellis remembered the good things, how amazing it had been sneaking around with Richard and she told her about it – all of it. The more pieces of the bigger picture Ellis revealed the angrier Meredith became.
"… anyways, Thatcher isn't a very smart or observant man. I don't understand what I ever saw in that man. I come home with the biggest, most visible hickey on my neck and he says or does nothing. I smell like Richards aftershave and he ignores it. Could I be more obvious? But he remains oblivious. How can I stay with a man like him? How I ever agreed to marry him. He has no attractive qualities what so ever, I don't know what I was thinking. I'm going to leave him and Richard is going to leave Adele and we are going to begin a new life…", Ellis continued to monologize.
What had transpired all those years ago became clearer and clearer. Her mother hadn't been heartbroken because her father had abandoned them. She had been heartbroken because Richard hadn't left his wife for her. She had been heartbroken because she had gambled that he would, but he hadn't. Most of Meredith's childhood trauma had been rooted in a single decision Ellis had made. She had willingly cheated on her husband – the father of her child – with her married co-resident and couldn't accept the consequences when everything didn't turn out as she had wanted.
Those revelations had opened up some old already – with a lot of therapy – healed wounds for Meredith. Not only did she have to deal with those, but she also had to face Richard regularly who acted as nothing had ever happened. Instead, he treated her differently, almost fatherly. Meredith was looking forward to the moment when she finally put Seattle Grace in her past.
"… I should have left him years ago, but then I got pregnant. I never really wanted kids, they make so much work. Now I'm stuck with Meredith. I should have …" Ellis continued.
Meredith glanced at her watch, and let out a breath in relief. She grabbed her keys and her phone off the table and stood up. It was a reasonable time to leave for work and she had no desire to hear that her existence had been a giant inconvenience to her mother. She already knew that. Ellis' actions had spoken loud enough. Meredith didn't need a verbal confirmation for something she had felt her entire life. Especially with all the progress, they had made over the past years.
"What are you doing?" Ellis asked a little taken aback by Meredith's sudden move for departure. "We're in the middle of a meeting, you can't just get up and leave."
"Mom, I need to go to work," Meredith exhaled loudly. She knew the conversation that would follow.
"Mom? My daughter is just a kid, you're lying."
"No, Mom I'm not lying. I am Meredith – your daughter. Everything you just told me is in the past," she took her mom's hand in hers and squeezed it reassuringly. She couldn't count how many times she had said those exact words in the last five months.
Ellis looked at her thoughtfully tilting her head to the side. "If you're my daughter then you grew up," she stated after a while.
"Yes, I did," Meredith confirmed with a small sad smile. "I need to go to work now, but I'll come back to see you soon. Good night, Mom," she squeezed her hand again before turning around and leaving the nursing home and her mother behind. This was all the affection she could muster after what she had learned today.
In her car, she took a minute to collect herself before she drove to work. Meredith felt the need to talk to someone, to offload the learned intel to someone else. The pool of people that knew all details about her personal situation was small. The people she usually turned to in those situations were sound asleep in their beds, thousands of kilometers east and the other person who had recently become her biggest confidante was in New York to move his divorce forward, get some things in order and visit his mother before Christmas. Derek had left early Monday night and would be returning Sunday afternoon. Most nights of his trip he had been roped in some form of activity. Instead of calling she sent him a quick text, besides she was still low-key annoyed with him. It had been their first real big fight since becoming a couple.
"I just don't understand why, Derek," Meredith closed the passenger car door a little harder than necessary. She opened the back door to the laundry room and kicked off her shoes and threw her winter coat on the washer for storage. They had just come back from dinner. All-day Meredith had tried to not be bothered by her sudden schedule change. However, the more she thought about it the bigger her annoyance grew. She didn't want to provoke a fight, especially since work had been more than stressful for both of them over the last week. In the car on their way back from the restaurant, Derek had asked if something was bothering her which had opened the floodgates. "I really do not get why I'm back on your neurosurgery service all of the sudden and why I had to be blindsided by an email when you've been with me all weekend. The least you could have done is warn me. Lock the door, please."
"It slipped my mind, I'm sorry. You've seen how it is at the hospital right now. It is absolute chaos. Two of my third years have interviews with different programs next week. The for sure fellow withdrew his application. Hell, even Smith and Hide are openly looking for new jobs that aren't with Seattle Grace. And they all legally can because of that stupid contract clause. I'm leaving for New York tomorrow and the department is on fire. I have a full OR schedule but no staff," Derek argued.
"I know the situation, Derek. I've been working under the same conditions all week. That doesn't explain how I ended up on neurosurgery again. I can only imagine two scenarios of how this transpired. The first one is that I begged Bailey that I need another chance with neurosurgery. Second is that a certain someone broke his promise, went behind my back, and requested me. Since I would remember if scenario number one happening, I am going to ask you again: Why?"
"At the moment I thought it was a good idea. I needed another intern and I requested you because then I at least don't need to worry about what you might do when unattended. I know that the patients are safe. I'm sorry that I went behind your back, Mer. I know that you don't want to work for me. I won't be there almost all week and I don't know if you still work at Seattle Grace when I return," Derek followed her into the kitchen.
"Hold on! You're mixing up two different things here. One thing is that I don't want to work for you, because I won't work for my boyfriend or I won't sleep with my boss …"
"And I accepted your reasoning and your decision, that's why I've stopped asking you about it," Derek interrupted. "It's a maximum of two weeks, Mer, I just don't understand what the big deal is? It's neurosurgery. Your specialty. Just a week ago you moved mountains for that little girl with the DIPG, stepped on toes, and ignored any kind of boundaries or procedures…"
"Do you think it was fun to play phone tag to get answers, cancel prematurely scheduled appointments and be the one who steps up while trying to take care of fifteen other patients? Do you think I had fun telling the parents that their daughter is most likely never going to see her seventh birthday? I stepped up because no one else was willing to break the news to them. Because everyone else was passing on their responsibility to someone else. It's my job. It's not my fault that I'm in the position that I'm in and that these cases seem to fall into my lab. What am I supposed to do? Ignore my education and turn a blind eye?" Meredith grabbed a glass out of the cabinet and filled it with water, "And if you wouldn't have interrupted me, I would have told you that this isn't about working for you for two weeks. I'm more than willing to jump in and help out wherever my services are needed. I would have appreciated if you had asked me before you decided for me. I would have appreciated if we could have had an adult conversation about it, to figure out the logistics. Because how things are now Derek, I'm going to be just another intern on your service." Meredith grabbed her phone out of her purse and the water glass and walked out of the kitchen. She angrily made her way up the stairs to her bedroom. They were lucky that neither Izzie nor George were home yet.
Derek followed her: "What are you talking about? You are a neurosurgeon."
"Not according to the American Board of neurosurgery and not at Seattle Grace, Derek. I'm an intern. An intern. I have a residency contract. I'm a glorified scut monkey. I can't control anything, I'm at the bottom of the command chain. Here is you," she put up a hand to demonstrate his position, "And here is me on the Seattle Grace neurosurgery chain," her hand went about two feet below her initial position. "And between that, there are the attending surgeons, the fellows, the senior residents, and all junior residents. Skill-wise and knowledge-wise I would be up there with you but the reality is that I have nothing to say. My word counts for nothing in those hospital walls especially when you're not there. I was once again shown that when I tried to order an MRI for Emma and not be taken seriously by anyone on your staff. I've completed my residency and my fellowship in neurosurgery, I'm writing my habilitation, I've published more than 90% of your staff and you force me to be an intern on my specialty for two weeks because it makes you feel better. It's selfish and inconsiderate, Derek," She looked at him with a dead serious face, before walking into the adjoined bathroom, closing the door behind her, signaling him not to follow.
Derek was dumbstruck, he hadn't thought about it like that. He let himself sink onto the mattress, blankly staring at the bathroom door, desperately trying to figure something out to rectify the situation.
Quite a while later she opened the bathroom door again, dressed in an oversized t-shirt and long-sleeved pajama pants. Her face said everything he needed to know: she was still very pissed.
Derek opened his mouth to say something. "Save it," Meredith stopped him with a stern face.
"I'm going to ask Bailey for another intern, tomorrow," Derek continued regardless.
"I said save it," Meredith annunciated, "And you will do no such thing. You will not request someone else after you specifically asked for me. You asking for me is already suspicious, you changing your mind is …" she exhaled loudly. Meredith sat down on her side of the bed, turning her back to him. She put on a pair of fussy socks.
Derek waited for her to finish her sentence but when nothing came he went to get ready for bed himself. When he returned she had built a giant pillow wall in the middle of the bed. Her bedside light was already turned off. He rolled his eyes but was glad that she hadn't kicked him out yet. He slipped under the covers and turned off his light as well. The evening had taken a disastrous turn.
"I think this would constitute a situation where you would have to sleep on the couch. Given the roommate situation, I don't think that is a good idea. I could make you sleep on the floor but I'm not a monster. Just know that I'm very furious and that I highly advise against crossing the pillow wall in any way, shape, or form," Meredith said into the darkness.
"Mer, I am very sorry. I wasn't thinking," Derek apologized again.
"I hope you weren't," Meredith snorted, "You are putting me into an impossible situation," she stated. There was silence for a while and Derek thought that she had officially stopped talking to him when she continued. "An impossible situation. What the hell were you thinking? What am I supposed to do if there is a Munich situation? I took an oath, Derek, I may have taken the oath in a different language than you, but I still took the same oath."
"Munich situation?" Derek asked carefully.
"Remember Alyssa? When we brought her in and all available neurosurgeons were in surgery and I made the call that a resident should start the procedure to save her life. I was questioned about that decision in Houston by the family's lawyers, they were looking for a malpractice law suit. I was protected then. What if there's a similar situation while I'm working. What if there is a neurosurgical emergency with any patient and the on-call surgeon is in surgery and it takes ages for another one to come in? What am I supposed to do then? Should I use all my knowledge to save their lives and potentially cause a lot of legal trouble for you and me because I overstepped my contractual limitations? Or should I continue playing dumb and neglect my oath – potentially endangering my license as well? What if I catch my resident making a gross mistake? Should I step in or should I follow the protocol for those situations and lose valuable time. It's an impossible situation, I can't just turn off my training. All those months I tried my hardest to avoid being in described situations. I tried to avoid being the teacher, I tried to not be a leader, I tried to not be in situations where I need to be the surgeon, the neurosurgeon, the one that decides. And it is hard – so incredibly hard. I almost made it to the finish line, there is light at the end of the tunnel. And then you decide for me how I should spend my last weeks at Seattle Grace. Nights, Derek, nights. You backstabbed me. Never ever make a professional decision for me ever again." Meredith turned her back to him.
Derek had silently listened to what Meredith had to say and the more he heard the more he understood how he had seriously fucked up. For him, it had been simply about making sure, that there was someone he could trust while he was gone. Ever since the announcement things were constantly changing in his department, people called in sick on short notice and he had the feeling that the work ethic would be down as soon as he'd leave. There were too many uncertainties with the upcoming merger and too many jobs available for neurosurgical staff in the state of Washington. He trusted Meredith. He had never considered the actual logistics of his request and in what impossible situation he was putting her.
xxx
Meredith stood in Derek's OR with her arms crossed watching the screen intently. For months Derek had been raving about his new 'toy' that he had secured funding for – it had finally arrived. The exoscope was impressive. It was a high-definition hybrid optical instrument between an operative microscope and an endoscope. It was one of the bigger developments of the neurosurgical medical devices in the last years and allowed better visualization and faster less invasive surgeries. That Derek had been able to secure the device for the neurosurgery department, lead Seattle Grace into the innovative neurosurgical age.
The surgery was an event, everyone who had been able to clear their schedules had come to watch the initiation of the exoscope. Meredith was still uncomfortable with so many unnecessary people being in the operating room or the galleries, watching, regardless if the surgery had a significance to their field or not. The fact that Cristina – who had married cardio before starting her residency – was standing next to her unnerved Meredith, but then nothing at Seattle Grace was normal anymore.
The surgery shouldn't be a PR event for the exoscope or the neurosurgical department. In Meredith's opinion should the primary focus be on the patient and secondary on teaching the residents, especially if all team-members were rather inexperienced with the new device. What gave her some reassurance was that she knew that Derek had operated with the device before and he like her knew the limitations and potential drawbacks. Meredith had been operating under the assistance of the exoscope for over a year now. She loved it and it had opened some doors for her, especially with peds. However, it wasn't so foolproof that the traditional operative microscope could be replaced by the new technology. It came down to the surgeon's choice.
Meredith didn't know if she had chosen this particular surgery to show off the device to the entire hospital. The patient was a young woman in her mid-twenties who's low-grade glioma that had been growing for years. The history alone made Meredith more nervous about potential unexpected surprises. Low-grade gliomas were relatively harmless but could develop into a much more aggressive form of a glioma rather quickly. The patient had presented to the clinic with years' worth of scans that showed consistent tumor growth since her teenage years. That the patient had been advised against surgery for so long was a debatable call in Meredith's professional opinion.
While everyone was fascinated by the apparatus, its high-resolution imagines, and visualization capabilities, Meredith was intently watching every step of the low-grade glioma resection on the screen. She closely observed them cut the snotty like tumor off the adjacent area. While operating Derek taught those who not only came for the device. He explained the difference between tumor and white matter consistency while instructing his team.
Throughout the procedure he let different people step up closer to watch and ask questions. His teaching had come a long way since Meredith had last interacted with him professionally – she had to be so fair and give him that. He had grown into his role as a teacher and mentor and was far more confident with instructing and listening to his students. This new side of him was doing something for her. Which was very confusing because he wasn't in her good graces. Even though they had woken up in the same bed this morning she hadn't been talking to him since last night and wasn't planning to anytime soon. She couldn't even pinpoint what she was feeling, too many emotions were running through her body. All the way from feeling anger because he had disregarded her feelings to being nervous about being forced back into the only specialty she really didn't want to revisit as an intern and betrayal that her choice had been taken away from her from a person she trusted.
Meredith furrowed her brow at the screen. The white matter didn't look like healthy white matter. It could be the margin or it could be low-grade glial cells that had migrated from the original tumor. It concerned her. From where Meredith stood, there was no way of getting a clear image. The crease on her forehead became deeper.
"You know it's freaky, right?" Christina whispered.
"What's freaky?"
"You staring at that screen for three hours not moving an inch," she commented.
Meredith shrugged, her gaze still on the monitor in her line of vision. She needed to address her concern.
"What is it?" Cristina asked.
"From here it looks like tumor. It could be the angle and it's just margin," Meredith answered in a low voice.
"That's it, tumor is out. We're about done here," Derek announced triumphantly.
"It looks like regular white matter to me," Cristina replied more loudly which earned her an 'are-you-kidding-me' look from Meredith.
"Can I help you, ladies? Do you have any unanswered questions?" Derek asked looking at them.
"Oh, we were just discussing the possibility of low-grade glial cells migrating to the white matter and what that would potentially look like. And if there would be a distinct visual difference between margin and affected white matter," Meredith answered nonchalantly looking him straight in the eyes, challenging him. The ball was in his corner now. She could feel the eyes from a lot of people on her.
"Any specific reason why this discussion came up?" Derek asked.
"That depends," Meredith shrugged.
"Depends on what?"
"On whether Cristina's or my interpretation holds ground. Because I think that the visual distinction can be quite minimal and unexpected tumor growth could potentially be mistaken as margin. But then again I'm only seeing the image on the monitor and you know how angles, lighting can mess with images," Meredith explained, sending him a clear message.
"True visually it can be quite hard to make the distinction. Would it help if you took a closer look?" Derek asked, surprising his resident who stood next to him.
"That would be great," Meredith stepped up to the open brain and looked at it. It had been two weeks since she had been in Richmond to perform surgery.
"What do you think now? Is it any clearer in person?" Derek inquired after a while.
"I think that it could be both. It could very well be just different looking margin, it could very well be tumor," Meredith answered and then added lowly so that only he could hear her: "It looks too much like tumor to not be tumor."
"You're right, it could be both," Derek said while manipulating the area where he had just taken the tumor out. He was still unconvinced. "What if it's just margin," he added quietly.
Meredith watched his hands, whispering: "Look, it is far too snotty to be margin. This is classic low-grade glioma consistency. It's almost textbook."
"We mapped out the tumor, we took everything out."
"This tumor has been growing for almost eight years, surprises were kind of guaranteed," Meredith argued quietly. For anyone watching it looked like that Derek was looking at the surgical site and Meredith was watching him do so.
"Right … If we take out more we potentially cause weakness … if we don't the tumor could come back … What do you suggest?"
"I would send another a deep freeze sample to path and have them look at. Keep her under until you get the result back and in case go in deeper and take out more. You could even let them begin the closing process in case I'm wrong. You talked to the family about doing a supramaximal resection. I would weigh on the side of caution. Temporary weakness compared to the risks of leaving undetected glioma cell behind …" Meredith suggested quietly.
"Let's do that. I'm going to trust you on this one," Derek sighed deeply in agreement. "We'll need to send another sample to pathology for analysis," he announced to the room.
"Are you sure, Doc?" the resident asked, eyeing Meredith suspiciously. "Because I don't see it, to be honest." Which earned Derek an 'I-told-you-so' look from Meredith.
"Yes, I'm sure. Dr. Grey is right, it's ambiguous. We are going to err on the side of caution because the risks of leaving potential tumor cells behind could be catastrophic," Derek replied with certainty.
"Whatever you say," the resident commented.
"Dr. Shepherd, it was good talking to you. Have a safe trip," Meredith told Derek quietly.
"Likewise, Dr. Grey."
Meredith had been right, the latest sample had shown the same pattern of not evenly spaced glial cells, suggesting that it had in fact been more tumor. For the deeper resection, Meredith hadn't been in the OR. She had been called to her intern duties in the neuro ICU. Since then her anger towards him had faded a little and she had sporadically replied to his texts that he had sent her regularly. She appreciated his updates and that he seemed to understand that she needed some space and time. At some point over the last couple of days, she had started to send him trivial updates as well. It was weird that he wasn't there, she had gotten so used to him always being around that she kind of missed his presence in her bed. Meredith was glad that they had some forced time apart, it gave her time to focus on herself and some decisions. However, she was already looking forward to their reunion to tell him about the progress she had made.
All week she was working nights which gave her lots of time during the day to do other things. She preferred days, as the kind of person who couldn't really catch up on lost sleep during the day, no matter how much she tried, night shifts could be brutal. Instead of forcing herself to sleep, she used the days to be productive in other ways. The drawback was that the accumulated sleep deprivation made her less patient and far more cranky. On day four of night shifts, she was getting there.
Compared to other rotations she had been on during her time at Seattle Grace this one was rather uncomplicated. She took care of the all neurosurgical patients that were admitted to the hospital, consulted on all kind of neuro cases that came into the ER or occurred on the floor during the night. She did neurological trauma assessments and charted a lot.
If it hadn't been for the merger announcement that had dropped the Monday after Thanksgiving she would be bored. But the announcement had changed the entire hospital dynamic keeping her very busy with not directly job-related tasks.
The messaging had been unclear and had lacked in detail. The administration's email to their employees had announced the establishment of Seattle Grace Mercy West Hospital coming January first. The notice had stated that future staff reduction was inevitable and that the new hospital would be undergoing fundamental restructuring of all established services.
Most employees had been blindsided by the news. The economic situation in the city and state was good, the demand for health care in the community was big, both hospitals were making money. There was no obvious reason for the merger. However, neither Seattle Grace nor Mercy West was one of the bigger players in the city and with the merger they would move up in the ranking, guaranteeing more patients and a bigger part of the pie. It was always about the money.
Uncertainty and anxiety were high amongst the staff. Some had already quit, others had reported sick, others were openly looking for new positions. Some doctors were talking about jumping ship. Residents had started looking for available residency positions elsewhere. Fellowship applicants had withdrawn their applications.
The interns had collectively decided that never going home would secure their jobs. While almost everyone else was able to apply for new jobs in case they would be directly affected by the job cuts, interns were stuck in the system for another six months. No one hired interns mid-year, they either had to survive the cuts or start over. They camped out in the tunnels, only ate cafeteria or vending machine food, showered in the locker room, and were always there needed or not. Most of them were nearing a mental breakdown with all the uncertainty. That no one had directly communicated to the interns was just aggravating the situation. Meredith had never witnessed anything comparable to this. It was absolute mayhem.
Cristina was torn between being overly confident and freaking out. She had initiated the not going home initiative and took it to the extreme. George was questioning every decision he had made that lead him to Seattle Grace and into medicine, Izzie spread rumors like it was her job and Alex acted like he couldn't be bothered by the entire situation. However, Meredith knew that he was freaking out just as much as any of the others. He hadn't said in so many words but the fact that he had asked her for help studying for his exam after the announcement had been released, said enough. For the last ten days, Meredith had been tutoring him whenever they had a free minute. He could actually be a quite pleasant person if he didn't choose to be an asshole instead. Knowledge wasn't his biggest problem, he was sloppy, unfocused, and liked to cut corners. He lacked in precision and was chaotic in most of his procedures. He had learned to hide his insecurities and shortcomings behind a wall of standoffish and irresponsible behaviors.
They had run into some hick-ups at first but had figured out a system at last. Alex's repeat exam would be tomorrow, making today the last night of getting ready. Tutoring Alex had reignited Meredith's desire for sharing her knowledge with med students and residents.
For once scheduling had worked out perfectly and Alex had been working nights as well. He was covering a different service though. They had migrated into a skills lab, where he practiced his skills and studied. Normally Meredith would use this time to get caught up on paperwork or do something productive like study for the oral board exam, write on her habilitation, or read journals. After today's visit with her mother, she didn't feel like doing anything productive at all. Her tablet rested on her thighs, her legs at an angle, and her feet propped up on a second chair in front of her. She unenthusiastically scrolled through a medical apparel website on the search for some scrubs and a scrub cap for her new job.
"Done," Alex announced. He sat across from her at a lab table. He pushed the skin model to Meredith for inspection. She looked at it critically. "You got to be kidding me, what is it this time?" Alex protested when he saw her face.
"Technically it's passable, you're just so messy. All sutures are cut to a different length, they are not evenly spaced out and not the same length. I wouldn't say anything if I hadn't seen you do better. You know how to, you're just too lazy," Meredith told him.
"You and your perfectionism. No one cares," Alex complained.
"Everyone cares: your residents, your attendings, your patients. Literally everyone. It's not about having the perfect suture technique right out of med school. It's about being clean and precise and putting in some effort," Meredith told him.
"I've been suturing the same skin model for days, it's getting boring. I've been practicing the same skills over and over again. I'm sick of it."
"And I've been listening to you complain and having the same conversations with you for days and yet I'm still here. You asked for my help, I said I would help you and I'm here to help you until you go into that exam tomorrow. We're in this together, so suck it up," Meredith took a pair of scissors and cut his sutures.
"We're not in this together. You're sitting here reading and torturing me. How do I even know that you know what you are talking about?"
"Are you challenging me to a suture competition?" Meredith asked.
"Yes!"
"Fine. What do you want if you win?"
"I want you to do my paperwork for the next two weeks."
"Not going to happen. Pick something else," Meredith shook her head, she was quite enjoying herself and Alex was in for a rude awaking.
"Okay, then I want a surgery – any surgery," Alex told her.
"Fine," Meredith shrugged.
"What do you want?"
"I want a favor," Meredith looked him straight in the eyes.
"A favor?" he raised his eyebrows.
"Yeah, any kind of favor. I may ask you to clean my gutters or give me a lift or change a tire. I just want a favor."
"A favor it is," Alex agreed.
"So what should we do?" Meredith asked as she grabbed some supplies she needed.
"Ten interrupted sutures and ten running."
"Throw in two horizontal mattress sutures and you have yourself a deal."
"Okay."
"We'll judge based on accuracy and continuity. I'll give you fifteen minutes."
"Fifteen minutes?" Alex protested.
"It's supposed to be a challenge, Alex."
"Fine. Go."
Meredith just finished her ten running sutures when her iPad alerted her to a video call. She was a little surprised who called her, given the time. She probed the tablet up in front of her and accepted the call.
"Hey Franzi, what is up? Aren't you supposed to get ready for school right now?" Meredith greeted the eleven-year-old that had appeared on her screen. It was ten at night in Seattle but seven in the morning in Munich. Alex looked up for a second a little confused and then he concentrated back on his task.
"Yeah, but Mama hasn't called up yet. I have a problem," she told Meredith.
"You have a problem?" Meredith asked a little suspicious, while she continued to suture the skin practice model.
"Yes. I forgot to do my Latin homework yesterday and I have Latin first period and he said that he is going to collect our notebooks to check if we did it and I already have two strikes and if I get one more I get detention," she explained through the screen.
"You forgot, huh?" Meredith raised her eyebrows
"I forgot, really,"
"Seems like you're in some kind of a pickle," Meredith stated, "What do you want me to do?"
"Mhm, remember when you still used to live here and you sometimes used to help me with my homework? I was hoping that you could do it real quick for me. You are so good at it," Franzi grinned into the camera.
"I already went to school and did my homework, Franzi. Now it's your turn to do your homework," Meredith tried to be a reasonable adult.
"It's only four sentences. It's really short," she looked really desperate.
Meredith had a soft spot for both of Anna's girls. She had been there since day one, had watched them grow up. They were like sisters to her, they were her family. She couldn't just say no, even if she knew that it wouldn't be the right thing to do, even if she knew that Anna would kill her if she ever found out. How hard could sixth grade Latin be? She cut the last of her interrupted suture and exhaled loudly: "Fine, but I'm telling you this is a one-time thing. You know I'm more than happy to help you but I'm not going to be doing your homework just because you don't want to. Do you understand?" Franzi nodded eagerly, "Okay, now show me what you need to translate."
While Franzi looked for the right page in her book, Meredith finished the two mattress sutures and cut the nylon to her preferred length. Sixth grade Latin was harder than she had anticipated. She used medical terms that were rooted in Latin or ancient Greek daily but it had been a hot minute since she had translated anything. She dictated her answers to Franzi who eagerly scribbled the sentences into her composition book. Just when the eleven-year-old wrote down the last sentence, Meredith noticed the bedroom door open in the background.
"What are you doing, Franzi? You should be downstairs," Nikolas asked his daughter and then he spotted Meredith on the screen. "Mer?" and then he spotted the homework in front of his daughter, "Are you using Mer to do your homework, Franziska?"
"Just pretend that I'm not here," Meredith told him.
"Please don't tell Mama," Franzi pleaded.
"Yeah, don't tell her. Please. I already talked to Franzi, this is a one-time thing. We agreed, didn't we Franzi?"
"Absolutely," the girl nodded, shoving her notebook into her bag.
"What kind of homework did she robe you into?" He asked Meredith.
"Latin."
"Well," he shrugged in his typical way, "I can't really say anything about that, I had hoped that she would get your mother's genes when it comes to doing homework, looks like I have the more dominant trait. I used to pull all the tricks to get out of doing my Latin homework. She's at least smarter than I was. However, young lady, you should at least try to do it yourself." He ran his hand through his daughter's dark hair. Meredith loved watching their relationship, he would do anything for his girls and he counted Meredith to his girls. He spotted the underlining sadness and sorrow in Meredith's eyes. "How are you?"
"Same old, same old. Mom is being very difficult," Meredith shrugged, while the buzzer on her phone went off, alerting her that their time was up. "That's time, Alex put down your instruments," she told Alex.
"Do you need anything?" Nikolas asked, concerned by seeing Meredith in this state. When they had agreed to take Meredith in all those years ago, he had never expected that he would gain a little sister/niece/daughter. "Where are you?"
"At work," Meredith shrugged.
"You called her at work? We talked about that, you can't just call Mer at work, unless it's an emergency," now he was getting mad.
"It's fine, really. She didn't interrupt anything important or I wouldn't have picked up," Meredith tried her best to persuade him.
Nikolas looked unconvinced. "We have to go anyways, she needs to go to school and I need to go to work. We miss you, Mer, every day. Let's talk soon, okay?"
"Yeah."
"Thank you, Mer. I miss and love you," Franzi told her.
"I miss and love you, too. So much," Meredith told them as the screen went black, "Hey! I said put the instruments down!"
"I just needed to …"
"No excuses Alex," Meredith looked at him sternly.
"I'm not making excuses. At least I'm done. I'm looking forward to you giving up your next surgery," Alex told her triumphantly.
"Not so fast. I finished as well," she pushed her skin model to him for inspection, while she inspected his. "It's by far better than the one before, however, …"
"You won," Alex told her simply. "How the hell did you do that?"
"What? I never said that I couldn't suture. You're the one that questioned by abelites, you challenged me."
"I mean, how the hell did you … I mean you were on facetime. Talking to … who was that?"
"My family," Meredith told him without going into too much detail.
"I didn't know, that your family is German," Alex observed.
"There is a lot you don't know about me, Alex. And what you think you know is probably not true," Meredith replied.
"Well, it's not like you do something to stop the rumors. You just let them happen."
"You think that would change something?" Meredith raised her eyebrows.
"I don't know. It's worth a try. You could tell me something about you and see where it's going. It's not like I have a lot of people to talk to."
"Fine. What do you what to know?"
Alex was quiet for a second. "Where did you go in September and why did you come back with a scar?"
"Uhh," Meredith groaned, "Why do you want to know that of all the things you could ask me about? The scar is not even that prominent."
"I don't know, you just disappeared and then you came back. I never thought you would. I lost a lot of money," Alex shrugged. "If you want to go into plastics, you just notice."
"Hold on. You aspire to go into plastics, but you say that nobody cares what your sutures will look like? Are you kidding me? If you don't care, go into a specialty where using a stapler is not frowned upon."
"So where were you?" Alex ignored her side comment.
"I never matched into Seattle Grace. I had an entirely different plan, that suddenly got thrown overboard. I still had responsibilities back home. That's where I went in September. And while I was there I had a run-in with a drunk, who decided they needed to defend their honor with their glass beer mug, which ended up in my face. Question answered?" Meredith asked.
"Not really."
"Well, that's all you get."
"But …"
"Look, this is as much as can tell you, without going into great detail about my complicated life. And to be honest I don't know you well enough that you would be privileged to get the exclusive into my life."
"But you never matched into Seattle Grace. Don't you think that is a little unfair for us who went through the process to be here? Especially now when there will be cuts," Alex argued.
"I agree that it is unfair. I'm pulling myself out of the equation tomorrow, in hopes that you can all keep your jobs at least until you finish your intern year. That's why I sit here in a skill lab and help you study while I could be in an on-call room sleeping. Besides, I never took an opportunity away from any of you who came here through the proper matching process."
"Wait, you're quitting?" Alex asked, clearly surprised.
"Yes."
"But what are you going to do? It is impossible to find a job as an intern."
"Don't you worry about me, I got it covered," Meredith smiled at him.
"It's kind of sad actually."
"What is sad?"
"That you won't be here anymore. How is going to call out my bullshit and is going to save my ass if you're gone?"
"I guess Bailey is going to continue to do that," Meredith joked.
"True. Still, she's not the one sitting here torturing me," he looked at her gratefully.
"You'll survive, I'm sure," Meredith commented. The sound of her and Alex's pager disturbed their responsibility-free time. She checked her pager and saw the code on the little technical device. "Well, duty calls."
xxx
Meredith was silently cursing Derek. This was the situation she had wanted to avoid at all costs. Three trauma patients, three patients with the potential need for a neurosurgeon, and only two certified neurosurgeons on call – if she excluded herself from the equation. A nurse had brought her up to speed while she had gotten ready for the trauma situation.
Patient one – a twenty-year-old male, driver of the first car – was already on his way to CT. According to the charge nurse, he was the one who had suffered the most traumatic injuries. His body was mangled and based on Meredith's assessment was a trip to the operating room inevitable. He was intubated and his pupils reacted sluggishly to her penlight. He showed visible signs of head trauma.
Patient two – the nineteen-year-old driver of car two – was not as bad off as patient one, but was still in serious condition. His primary survey suggested a spinal cord injury. If her worse assumptions became true he needed immediate surgery. Under normal circumstances, Meredith would hand off the case to a spinal surgeon, but all spinal cases at Seattle Grace were handled by the neurosurgery department. He was conscious and talking but couldn't remember the accident that clearly – which raised a red flag for Meredith. He was also the brother of patient three who had just been brought in.
It had been a while since Meredith worked a major trauma situation, let alone where she needed to assess three individual patients at once and not be in charge. Yet it was like riding a bike. The situation was complicated by the chaos that was working at Seattle Grace at the moment. For the first two patients, she had missed the EMS hand-over and had only slipped in to do a quick neurological assessment before she had left to see the other patients. The rooms had been way too crowded, too noisy, and too chaotic for her liking. There hadn't been much time to complain about the chaos.
Her senior resident had taken over patient one, so Meredith could move on to the new arrival. Meredith slipped into trauma three. She was surprised when she saw the patient being transferred onto the trauma bed. It was a kid. The room was just as chaotic as the other trauma rooms had been. Meredith spotted at least five interns who she knew weren't on the clock but were there anyway. She had spotted Cristina in trauma one. Izzie was now in trauma three, looking eager to get to do something.
Every trauma was a high-stress situation, it wasn't like a scheduled surgery that they had time to prepare for. Getting the information about the accident, the scene, and the initial vital signs from EMS was crucial. They relied on those pieces of information. Based on those they had an understanding of what to focus on. She had a hard time hearing the handover over the unnecessary commotion in the room. That the third patient was a child put Meredith more on edge.
The patient was an unrestrained fourteen-year-old female who had to be cut out of the car at the scene. Her vitals were stable-ish and she was conscious, which were good initial signs. The teenager was strapped to the backboard, her c-spine was secured by the orange head immobilizer and a cervical collar. She looked very scared and disoriented, tears were running down her blood-smeared cheeks.
Meredith's position – as the 'neuro person' – was by the patient's head. She witnessed the girl's silent distress. The trauma team started their primary survey, attaching monitors, drawing blood, placing IVs, loudly stating their doings to the scribe nurse. It was loud and chaotic, it wouldn't come as a surprise if some information would get lost in the chaos. Meredith aligned herself in the girl's line of vision.
"Hey there, I'm Meredith one of the doctors taking care of you. Can you tell me your name?"
"Kaylee," the girl whispered.
"Hey, Kaylee. Do you know what happened and where you are?"
"I don't know?"
"You were in an accident and now are at the hospital, I know all of this is very scary. We're taking care of you, okay. Can you tell me where it hurts?"
"Everywhere," Kaylee cried, "And, I'm feeling sick."
"Kaylee, can you move your fingers for me?" The teenager wiggled her fingers, "Perfect. And your toes," she wiggled her toes but cried out in pain. "Very good."
"Oww, oww, it hurts," she cried silently,
"We're going to give you more for the pain and something for the nausea, okay?" Meredith told her. "I'm going to have to shine a light into your eyes. It's going to be uncomfortable, I'm sorry." Meredith shined the penlight into her eyes and announced to the team: "Pupils are equal, round and reactive. GCS is 14. Can we get some anti-nausea meds on board, please?" Her response was a reassuring sign, the nausea wasn't.
"I want my Mom," Kaylee cried.
"I know honey. I'm going to send someone to look for your mom, okay?" Meredith told her.
"What was the GSC?" the scribe nurse asked over the commotion of too many people trying to help.
"GSC is 14," Meredith repeated.
In the chaotic, crowded room they had a hard time communicating with each other, Meredith was getting annoyed.
"I want my mommy. I think I'm going to be sick."
"Don't worry Kaylee, we got you," Meredith told her, "She's going to be sick," skillfully they turned the backboard to the side and a nurse positioned the sick bag just in time. In the background three of the interns were loudly bickering about whose turn it was to do the next procedure. They turned Kaylee back. The situation was highly stressful. The team relied on flawless communication so they could tend to their patient's needs, while interns were arguing about procedures as if they had no regard for the human life they were trying to save. Their arguing disrupted their workflow, their communication, and put extra unnecessary stress on the already stressed patient. Throughout the trauma, they had been oblivious to the glares the nurses sent them when they had to maneuver around them, the annoyed looks of the attendings and residents, the repetitions they caused by their loud fighting. And nobody said anything. Meredith was ashamed and she fed up with it. "HEY!" she bellowed, "Everyone who is not on the clock right now: out. Everyone who bribed a nurse, an orderly, or the custodian staff to page them about this trauma: out. Go home, get some sleep, and stay the hell out of the way."
"You can't kick us out," Izzie argued smugly.
"Like hell, I can! Neither of you is on the clock and all of you are distracting. I don't know how many times things needed to be repeated in the last five minutes because you wouldn't shut up or can't grasp the seriousness of the situation. Get out!" Meredith stated with the authority of an attending, focusing her attention back on Kaylee. "Hey Kaylee, can you open your eyes for me?" Meredith gently shook the girl's shoulder. "Kaylee … there you are," she smiled, "I have to shine the light again, I'm sorry." In the background she could hear an attending seconding her outburst, kicking any unnecessary personal out of the room.
"No, water hurts. I don't like water. Puppy home." Kaylee mumbled barely audible, which concerned Meredith. Even her pupillary responds had changed since she had last checked it.
xxx
Meredith was nervously fidgeting with the hair tie around her wrist. It was a trait she had inherited from her mom. She had hated it when her Ellis had done it and now that she did it herself she hated it as well, but she couldn't help it. Whenever she was extremely anxious, nervous, or tense she needed something to fidget with. This situation exaggerated her fidgeting habit. She sat at one of the desks in the ER waiting for Kaylee's scans to come back from radiology, while anxiously playing with her hair tie. In her head, she was going over all the potential scenarios. Patient one was already in the OR and patient two was being prepped as they waited for his sister's scans. If Kaylee had been lucky she only had a bad concussion, if she had been incredibly unlucky she would join the other two victims for immediate neurosurgery. In between those two extreme scenarios, were hundreds of different options.
"Could you stop that?" Brandon asked. He sat next to her waiting for the same scans, he was one of the emergency docs that were taking care of Kaylee.
"Sorry," Meredith said lost in thought but didn't stop.
"You don't have to stop, it's not bothering me at all," he teased with earned him a very unamused look. "What's up with you today? The Meredith I know is more patient and less annoyed."
"Too much to go into detail," she replied shortly.
"Merger worries?" Brandon asked.
"No, no merger worries. Even though the merger is just working here more unbearable. But that's a different story." The scans popped up in Kaylee's file. "Finally," Meredith opened the document. One look at the brain scan and she knew what she needed to do. After Kaylee had been taking to CT, she had decided on actions she enabled if a certain threshold would be passed. It was the only option she saw to maintain patient safety and obey her contract. She grabbed the phone next to her.
"What are you doing?" Brandon asked.
"I'm calling Children's for a transfer," Meredith told him, the receiver pinned between her ear and shoulder, dialing the number she had looked up previously.
Brandon took the receiver out of her hand and hang up before she had the chance to finish dialing the number. "Don't you think, it's a little prematurely? Shouldn't you consult neurosurgery before you decide to ship the patient to a different facility?"
"She has a massive subarachnoid hemorrhage. The chance that she needs a neurosurgeon within the next two hours is very likable. And I am neurosurgery."
"I mean not an intern, I mean someone with a little more experience than six months on the job."
"Oh yeah right, like last time?" She sent him an annoyed look. She took her hand to her ear, pretending that it was a phone, "Hello Dr. Shepherd, sorry to bother you. I just wanted to check if it's okay that I get a patient the best possible care even if that means transferring her to a different more equipped hospital. The patient has an actively bleeding SAH. The two on-call neurosurgeons are already in surgery and will be for hours. It would save you and me a lot of trouble and paperwork … that's what I thought," she hung up her pretend phone and picked up the real one dialing the number, "He says it's okay," Meredith told Brandon.
"Meredith," he warned her.
"Look Brandon, just trust me that I have more than enough experience in neurosurgery, pediatric neurosurgery, and emergency medicine to know what I'm doing. To know that this is the right call. She has a very long road ahead of her with all her other injuries and Children's is far better equipped to deal with all of them. That she was brought here in the first place was a mistake. … Oh hello, this is Dr. Grey from Seattle Grace, neurosurgery please."
"I can't sign off on this. I need a little more than trust," he protested.
"You don't have to, I will," Meredith told him, while she waited to be connected to the neurosurgery department.
Meredith walked into Seattle Grace, dressed in a business casual attire. In her purse, she had one very important document. She looked good and felt good. It had been a very busy day. She had slept for an hour all night. At first, she had stayed with Kaylee and her mother until the transport team from Children's had arrived. The conversation with the on-call neurosurgeon had been very good. He had been a little surprised to get a call like this so early on. He had told her that normally facilities would underestimate the injury and overestimate their capabilities which had resulted in some close calls. When he had asked of Meredith's name, he had actually recognized it, which made Meredith kind of happy. After Kaylee had been picked up, she had grilled Alex for another hour until she was sure that he was prepared. In the morning there had been some fallout from her outburst in the trauma room. Izzie and some of the interns weren't happy with her speaking up against them. She hadn't cared a bit.
After her shift, she had met with her new employer to sign her contract. They were the biggest anesthesiology private practice in Seattle and staffed most hospitals and surgery centers throughout the city with anesthesiologists. Meredith wasn't a big fan of ginormous private practices, however, they had offered her the flexibility she was craving. The hours and the pay were good and she could up or down her hours at will. The best part was that she would be fully responsible for her own cases again.
After that meeting, she had had a meeting with someone at the University of Washington School of Medicine about a possible teaching responsibility. If everything worked out she would be teaching at least one class next semester. After she had once again called and had harassed the Boards of her outstanding residency acceptances. Those calls had been rather unsatisfying, but her mood had been too good to bring her down from her high. She felt she was finally on the right path again.
It was afternoon and Meredith was on her way to the Chief's office to hand in her resignation. Richard and Dr. Rosenthal had been impossible to get hold of these days. The merger had thrown them in a loop, they were buried in work. She didn't have an appointment but she was certain that she would find him in his office. She knocked on his door and opened it when she heard him call her in.
"Chief, do you have a minute?" Meredith asked.
"Oh, Meredith. It's really not a good time, I have so much to do," he replied, his desk buried in paperwork.
"It's really just a minute, less even. I just wanted to give you this. Dr. Rosenthal has a copy in his pigeon hole and HR will get another," Meredith handed him the letter.
"What is this?" Richard asked perplexed.
"My resignation."
"Your resignation?" Richard looked bewildered.
"Yes. With everything going on, I decided it was time to bow out," Meredith explained. "I once again wanted to thank you for the opportunity you gave me last June. I really appreciate it. However, I don't see any future at Seattle Grace for me."
"But …" Richard was speechless.
"I know that you are in the incredibly hard situation of cutting jobs and I don't want you to consider any of my intern colleagues when I'm ready to leave. I will finish my week here and after that, I have another job lined up, however, if you have scheduling problems I'm more than willing to jump in for a couple of hours," Meredith told him.
"Meredith, I want you to consider the gravity of this decision. You would need to redo your entire intern year if you want to return to medicine."
Meredith had to try very hard to not start laughing right then. "I'm aware and I have everything under control," she smiled.
"Do you need anything? Any help?" Richard offered, which bothered Meredith greatly.
"No, I have everything under control. Well, that's all, I won't keep you. Thank you again," Meredith told him, exiting his office.
On the way to the intern locker room, she ran into Bailey. Now that she had officially free from being an intern at Seattle Grace, Meredith decided that it would be the right thing to do to tell her resident that coming next week she wouldn't be an employee of Seattle Grace Hospital anymore. Dr. Bailey had been just as shocked as Richard had been, she, however, had collected herself much quicker than Richard had. Meredith felt light and happy that she was finally in control of her life again.
It was Sunday afternoon and Meredith had just finished half a day shopping at IKEA, buying some furniture for the house. It just so happened that IKEA was very close to SeaTac, where Derek had landed a couple of minutes ago. He had taken a taxi straight from the hospital to the airport. She had really missed him. A week apart had been good, but she was ready to have him back in her life again. She pulled her old Toyota in front of his airline section and got out to wait for him. It was freezing cold but surprisingly dry.
A big smile spread over her face when she saw him exit the airport building pushing a luggage cart in front of him. He hadn't spotted her yet, he was looking around for a free taxi.
"Derek," Meredith called. His face mirrored hers when he spotted her.
"This is a pleasant surprise," he walked up to her, grinning like a stupid teenager. He took her in his arms, kissing her slowly. The butterflies in her belly were going crazy.
"I missed you," she whispered into the kiss.
"You have no idea, how much I missed you," Derek smiled brightly.
"I have some idea."
"How are you?" he asked.
"I'm good," Meredith replied genuinely. "I have so much to tell you."
"I can't wait."
10/17/20
Well, it's been a while - a long while. I'm good and healthy. I've been busy with life and have a deadline coming up and writing this story is kind of a distraction. Well since this chapter once again has over 10000 words, you could ask how my other 'non-fun' project is going. It's going. I hope the chapter brought you some joy, with everything going on in the world right now. Can we stop the surprises, please? I love reading your reviews, I love writing for someone, this story brings me a lot of joy. Thank you for going on this ride with me. I took some inspiration from 'Lennox Hill' on Netflix. If you're not only into watching medical dramas but also real-life medial shows - I can highly recommend it. The conversation between Meredith, Nikolas, and Franzi, is in German, for my international non-german readership I kept in English.
As always, let me know what you think. Stay happy and healthy, wash your hand, wear a mask, and make good decisions. Bye