Being Arizona

Hi guys! I'm not really too happy with this chapter, but I hope you enjoy it all the same!

Chapter three- General POV

First days weren't new to me. Days filled with new possibilities and new people had been a regular happening in my life- so why was I nervous now? After I'd moved states a few times and had several new schools, the nerves of a first day slowly vanished until I looked at them with excitement. So you could understand how frustrating it was that I was nervous. It was just a new job.

"Well that appears to be everything. Welcome to Seattle Grace." The chief of surgery, Richard Webber, welcomed me with a smile. I was currently sitting in his office listening to everything he had to say. What had shocked me was that when I'd gotten here he'd informed me that I could be promoted to department head, because the previous one had died. I mean, it wasn't good that he died, but I was in charge of a department. Cool, huh?

"Are you sure you want me as the head?" I asked yet again, hesitant of my ability to do it. Sure, I'd try, but I might completely fail and then everybody would blame him for hiring a fellow to do the job. I knew I'd done well- Never failed a single test in med school, had been top of my class, ruled residency like a boss and aced my boards. I knew I could do this, but that didn't stop me from doubting myself.

"I'm more than confident you can do it. I read your CV, and I think you're well capable."

"Okay, sir. Well, I'm gonna go…" I trailed off, unsure if he was going to say anything more. I was eager to get to work, to see patients and do surgery. As a resident we obviously got more responsibility than when we were interns, but the increase of responsibility from residency to fellowship was much greater and I couldn't wait to start. It was kinda scary, but it was also super exciting and cool.

"Of course, Dr Robbins. Have a nice day."

My first day was hectic, to say the least. All of these new patients also came with new worried parents, who had no idea who I was or where I came from, and for all they knew I could be clueless. More of my day was spent reassuring them than actually doing surgeries and treating patients. It was all part of the job though, and I had expected it, so I wasn't about to complain. The only parent that I met who trusted me right off was Melinda Prescott, but even then I ran into Miranda Bailey, who was just as worried as the rest of them.

Jackson Prescott, a ten year old Cirrhosis, and his mother Melinda were obviously very close to Dr Bailey, and that's why I agreed to try Dr Kenley's approach one last time. After all, I had no experience with this case or this family, so I was giving some leeway, but I could tell it wasn't going to work. He needed a transplant, it was his last option. I could tell Bailey was judging me- my name, my wheely sneaks, my approach… Everything. But I had grown up with people judging me so I easily shook it off and continued doing what I thought was best.

Apart from that, everyone else here seemed pretty nice. I had only been ere for hours but I could already tell that people here loved to gossip- some of the rumours I'd heard were just ridiculous. And more than once I'd heard nurses discussing their sex lives, which I'd asked them not to. At least not in the middle of the peds ward.

"Guess I'm eating lunch alone…" I said to myself as I exited the cafeteria with my lunch on a tray, heading to my office. I would be very surprised if I didn't end up with food poisoning at the end of this day because this stuff didn't even look like food so much as dirt. Although it did look better than the stuff at Johns Hopkins which I had downright refused to eat. Ever.

Thankfully, I didn't have to think of an excuse not to eat it (because if I didn't eat something now then I didn't know when I'd get the chance) because my pager started going off, signalling that I was needed in room 306, the room which I believed to belong to 8 year old Darcy Newton. She had just been admitted today for a tumour in her stomach, and the page reminded me that she was heading to 0R 3 to have it removed.

The surgery only took about four hours, which for a tumour resection wasn't that long. She was being wheeled up to recovery right now, leaving me with some spare time on my hands to round on patients before I went in on Jackson Prescott. I wasn't at all confident that it would work but I was gonna try my damn hardest.

"You ready?" Bailey asked me as she approached me at the nurse's station. I nodded silently and followed her to Jackson's room.

As soon as I opened Jackson up I wasn't even surprised by what I met. The reason that I wanted to change treatment was exactly because of this- his bowels were dead, at least a good chunk of them, and there wouldn't be much left if I were to resect it. I knew Bailey was pissed at me for closing up without trying, but even she knew that there was nothing that a transplant was his only option. After finally snapping at her for judging me all day, I left her with the second opinion she wanted and told her to call UNOS. I was exhausted, absolutely wiped after today which seemed to have dragged on and all I wanted to do was sleep. I still had to phone my parents, which I knew would take a while, because my mom loved to talk and very often I found myself zoning out while she went on and on.

No such luck. It was 2am in the morning when I got paged into the hospital, and I came rushing in only to find that Bailey only wanted to chat. I get that she was worried, and extremely invested in this case, but there wasn't much we could do until UNOS called. She reminded me unnecessarily that he was running out of time- I knew that. I felt horrible. But with kids, they always were.

Instead of going back to my apartment I decided just to crash in an on call room. I successfully managed to get a good few hours before I was paged into Jackson's room yet again. Although this time it wasn't just an update, Things were deteriorating rapidly- his liver was failing and his ammonia levels were through the roof, despite the shunt that I'd placed. He needed a transplant, and he needed it yesterday. I couldn't help but get attached to this little guy, even though I'd tried not to. With kids, they don't always realise how sick they are, so they go on being cheery and talking about the future they might not have and it broke my heart.

"Rough day?" A nurse who I'd talked to a few times yesterday asked me as I signed charts and thought of every possible way to keep Jackson alive. 'Rough day' didn't even begin to describe it.

"And it's only 11:30." I sighed, glaring at the clock on the wall. I swear it was mocking me, ticking away deliberately slowly.

"There's this bar across the street, want to get drinks tonight?" She asked me, and I contemplated it for a moment before shaking my head. I was already fried and it wasn't even midday yet, and I had so much to do even when I got home.

"No thanks, I'm still in the weeds right now, but thanks for offering."

The rest of the day went the same way. Jackson declined further, more patients were admitted, paperwork kept piling up and I was ready to just drop. It was more than once that I found myself zoning out of paperwork and listening to gossip, which apparently spread as fast as the plague here, and most of it seemed to be about a person named Dr Torres, who I'd never seen around here.

"Hahn just left her, no warning whatsoever. She must be humiliated."

"Yeah, after O'Malley too…"

"I kind of feel bad for her, because she is really nice. I mean, from what I've gathered when talking to her."

That was the general gist of the conversation around here. I actually found myself feeling bad for this Dr Torres, whoever she was, and I didn't even know her. It was ages after that that I finally got to go home, and as soon as I did I dropped onto my bed without even bothering to change out of my clothes. My apartment was a complete mess- I hadn't even started unboxing anything except from what I'd used, and the dishes in the sink were building up gradually, same with the dust. I made a mental note as I slipped into a deep slumber to begin sorting that out.

The next day was the same as the others- wake up, force myself to get out of bed, go to work, treat patients, treat Jackson, pray for Jackson, go home, sleep and repeat. By the end of the next day Jackson had hours left in him, and all I could do was pray for a transplant.

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Short, yes, and repetitive, I know. I'm sorry! I had a hard time writing this. You know when you're just typing, and the word count just stays the same and you find yourself writing the same thing over and over? Yeah, I had that.

But I promise the next chapters are better, and a lot happens in the next one. I hope you're still enjoying this!