Every intern got the same page calling us to a conference room. I enter to find it already teeming with people. I sit beside Cristina in the back of the room, smiling at my friend as she sutures a banana. George laughs at her and she snaps at him, calling him 007. She then surprises both of us when she apologizes for using the nickname.
"Does anybody know why we're here?" Cristina asks the entire room.
Before anybody can answer Derek walks in, "Well good morning. I'm going to do something pretty rare for a surgeon, I'm going to ask interns for help," He walks the entire length of the room coming to stand directly beside the desk Cristina and I sit on, "I've got this kid, Katie Bryce. Right now, she's a mystery," There's a couple times that he looks back at me as he speaks. I feel a lot less like a failure seeing the great neurosurgeon Derek Shepherd come to a room full of interns exactly like me for help, "She doesn't respond to her meds. Labs are clean, scans are pure, but she's having seizures," All eyes in the room are on Derek and I feel my heart swell with pride. This is my husband in his element, teaching and being taught at the same time all while doing what he loves, "Grand mal seizures with no visible cause. She's a ticking clock. She's going to die, if I don't make a diagnosis," He starts walking away from me and for a split second I try to sneak a peak of his butt but the lab coat covers it, I slide down in my seat and decide that no matter how tired I am at the end of the day Derek and I are going to have some very hot sex when I get home, "Which is where you come in. I can't do it alone. I need your extra minds, extra eyes, I need you to play detective, I need you to find out why Katie is having seizures," As he gives us our orders everyone in the room seems to sit up straighter, excited with the prospect of finding the cause, "I know you're tired, you're busy, you've got more work than you could possibly handle. I understand. So, I'm going to give you an incentive," I notice the Chief standing in the doorway, he even came to watch Derek teach and I feel proud of him all over again, "Whoever finds the answer rides with me. Katie needs surgery. You get to do what no interns get to do. Scrub in to assist on an advanced procedure," I get excited about the idea of brain surgery but I know I won't be chosen. As much as I would love to scrub in for my patient, Derek can't choose me, I'm his wife after all and that would be blatant favoritism, "Dr. Bailey's going to hand you Katie's chart. The clock is ticking fast, people. If we're going to save Katie's life, we have to do it soon."
I grab the chart, already knowing most of the information on it. While I might not be able to scrub in, I might be able to get somebody I like the chance to scrub in. And that's just a side note. More importantly than that I want to diagnose my patient. I want to help Katie.
When Cristina asks me if I'd want to work if her to diagnose Katie, I agree immediately. I like Cristina and if I can't scrub in to help, she's the next best thing. I tell her, "I'll work with you, but I don't want in on the surgery. You can have it."
"Are you kidding me? It's the biggest opportunity any intern will ever get."
I shrug and lie to Cristina, "I don't want to spend any more time with Shepherd than I have to." I would honestly love to be with Derek in the OR but I can't do this, it would cast a shadow over every other surgery I do for the next year, with or without Derek. If he picks me for this once it comes out that we're married everyone will think that my entire career is based off of favoritism.
"What do you have against Shepherd?" I have absolutely nothing against him. I smile a little, except my body, I think to myself.
"If we find the answer, the surgery's yours. Do you want to work together or not?"
Cristina grins. She just won the jackpot. I think I did too, because at least I can make sure Katie is cured, "Deal." She says.
Working with Cristina towards a diagnosis is actually fun. We sit together leaning against a bookshelf in the research library of the hospital. Since we started brainstorming forty-five minutes ago, we've been bouncing different possible diagnoses back and forth. I cross my legs and scan through another medical journal as Cristina lists off some ideas we had nixed.
"Well, she doesn't have anoxia, chronic renal failure or acidosis. It's not a tumor because her CT's clean," Cristina says, "Are you seriously not going to tell me why you won't work with Shepherd?"
"No," I don't care if I'm becoming friends with her, I'm not telling her about Derek, I can't, "What about infection?" I try to keep our conversation directed towards Katie.
Cristina replies, "No. There's no white count, she has no C.T. lesions, no fevers, nothing in her spinal tap," I think maybe she's letting the Derek thing go and then she finishes by demanding, "just tell me."
"You can't comment, make a face, or react in any way," I don't even realize I'm saying any of this until it is said. Derek and I will have to talk about this later but it's not like I'm going to outright lie about anything, we were just planning on avoiding the truth. But she's asking and I'm just going to tell her. It might be easier having someone knowing. Have a little less sneaking in my life, "We're married." I turn to look at Cristina and she starts to raise her eyebrows and drop her mouth in shock before stopping.
She clears her throat and looks forward, "What about an aneurysm?"
I shake my head and suppress a smile. I asked her not to acknowledge what I said and she, even though clearly she wants to do otherwise, respects my wishes. It warms my heart.
Shaking my head again I say, "No blood on the CT, and no headaches."
"Okay. There's no drug use, uh, no pregnancy, no trauma," Cristina suddenly veers off topic, "Is he good? I mean, he looks like he would be, and I hear married sex is good, so is it any good?"
Ignoring Cristina's stares I keep focused on Katie's case, "What are the answers? What if no one comes up with anything?" It terrifies me that the bratty teenage girl I've been treating might not ever be able to grow out of her terrible selfish phase and into a real human. She might never leave this hospital. If we can't figure it out, then she will never leave this hospital.
"You mean if she dies?" Cristina seems to understand me. She hasn't seemed to judge me about Derek and she seems to get my dark and twisties.
"Yeah." I sit down on a stool and lean forward.
Cristina sighs and leans against the shelves, "This is gonna sound really bad, but I really wanted that surgery."
It's kind of funny how Cristina is thinking about the surgery and I'm thinking about the patient. Not to say that I haven't thought about the surgery, I would love that surgery. But I can't take the surgery even if I earn it. I think about Katie and her fake 911 pages and her complaining and her obsession with her pageant. She's never going to be a real person. "She's just never going to get the chance to turn into a person. The sum total of her existence will be almost winning Miss Teen whatever. You know what her pageant talent is?"
"They have a talent?" Cristina asked.
"Rhythmic gymnastics." We both laugh.
"Oh, come on." Cristina finds the supposed talent as absurd as I do.
A smile spreads on my face, "What is rhythmic gymnastics? I don't know - I can't even say it; I don't know what it is." Laughing feels really nice after such a hard day.
Katie was telling me about the gymnastics. She said something about ribbons and twirling. Cristina says, "Isn't it like something with a ball, and a," but I'm thinking about what Katie told me. Katie told me she fell. She tripped over her ribbons and she fell. What if that's the cause of all of this. I freeze. "What? Meredith, what?" Cristina asks, it's almost as if she can see the gears in my head turning.
I think I know what's wrong, "Get up! Come on!" I bound for the door, excitement clear in each step I take. Confused, Cristina follows me. As we walk towards the surgery floor I start explaining my realization to Cristina. Katie could very well have a burst aneurysm. She fell. She could have hit her head. We've all missed something so simple.
As we round a corner Cristina says to me, "The only thing that she could possibly need is an angiogram." The more we've discussed this possible diagnosis the faster Cristina and I have moved. By now we're all but sprinting down the hallway as we look for Derek. We both nearly miss him as he gets on an elevator but Cristina spots him and cries out, "Oh, oh, Dr. Shepherd! Just one moment," We're both out of breath and we lean against the elevator doors in an effort to compose ourselves and to keep Derek on the same floor as us, "Katie competes in beauty pageants-"
Derek snorts a little and replies, "I know that but we have to save her life anyway." He definitely said that for my benefit due to the fact that he knows of my deep rooted disdain towards pageant girls.
Still fighting with the elevator doors Cristina says, "Okay, she has no headaches, no neck pain, her C.T. is clean, there's no medical proof of an aneurysm-"
"Right." Derek drags out the word indicating that we need to get to our point quickly.
"But what if she has an aneurysm anyway?" Cristina finishes, presenting our theory to our attending. It's our first day on the job and we're presenting a far-fetched diagnosis to the head of the neurology department. If Derek wasn't my husband, I probably would be feeling pretty woozy right now. I mean I am feeling woozy but more so than I currently am.
He shakes his head, "There are no indicators."
"Ah, but she twisted her ankle," Cristina tries to sell our case to Derek, "A few weeks ago when she was practicing for the pageant-"
Derek cuts her off, "Look, I appreciate you're trying to help, but-"
Some doctor in the back of the elevator complains about us stalling so I jump into the conversation and explain why it could be a burst aneurysm, "She fell. When she twisted her ankle, she fell."
As Cristina speaks Derek and I hold eye contact, "It was no big deal, not even a bump on the head, you know she got right back up, iced her ankle and everything was fine, it was a fall so minor her doctor didn't even think to mention it when I was taking her history, but she did fall." I'm begging him silently to listen to us, to believe us. We're just trying to save a teenage girl's life after all.
Derek glances around at all the other irritated doctors and nurses in the elevator, "Well, you know the chances that a minor fall could burst an aneurysm, one in a million! Literally." As he speaks the doors close. Cristina and I stand staring at the stainless steel separating from us and Derek in defeat. We both sigh and turn away. Apparently our research wasn't enough. Apparently we can't help Katie.
But then I realize I know my husband. I know his stubbornness and his determination. I turn to Cristina, my back to the elevator and say, "He'll be back. Give him a few minutes. Once the idea is planted he'll need to check." Cristina looks at me like I'm crazy and we start to walk away.
The elevator dings. The doors slide open to reveal Derek. He steps onto the floor with purpose and starts walking forward, "Let's go." He says.
"Where?" Cristina asks. I'm already smiling though, because I know what Derek's response is. We're going to check for that aneurysm.
"To find out if Katie's one in a million."
My smile widens. That's the man I married. Quickly he tells Cristina to go to the techs and book a machine for Katie. He joins me to bring Katie to get her scans. On the way to her room we turn into a mostly empty hallway. I'm still in the process of walking when he pushes me against the nearest wall and starts kissing me. I arc up against him and kiss him back, pulling his lower lip into my mouth and nibbling on it. My fingers run through his curls and one of my arms is wrapped firmly around his shoulders allowing me to press my entire chest against his. After a minute we break apart, both of us panting and looking less than professional.
"Dr... Shepherd," I pant.
His only response is a grin. He reaches his hand out to me and despite our goals we set off with in the morning to be as professional and discreet as possible, I hold his hand the entire way to Katie's room.
As the machine runs the room is dead silent. Once the machine generates the scan we all hold our breath until Derek mutters, "I'll be damned."
The tech points to a dark spot on the scan and says, "There it is."
Cristina and I were right. She's going to get to scrub in and I'm just happy to know Katie will be alright.
Derek leans forward towards the screen. His jaw hangs open slightly and his eyes are wide. He's clearly surprised that two interns found an aneurysm that he missed. As soon as we get home I'm going to be rubbing this in and gloating. "It's minute but it's there," Cristina and I lean forward to get a better view of the scan, "It's a cerebachnoid hemorrhage. She's bleeding into her brain."
I just diagnosed a patient.
We walk out of the scan room, all of us smiling a little. Walking towards the nurses' station he explains to us, "She could've gone her entire life without it ever being a problem. One tap in the right spot-" Derek snapped.
"And it exploded." Cristina finished his thought.
"Exactly. Now I can fix it," Derek says, happily. He puts his arms around mine and Cristina's backs and congratulates us, "You two did great work. Love to stay and kiss your asses," He gives me a look that promises future asskissing, "but I gotta tell Katie's parents she's having surgery." He asks the receptionist for Katie's chart and starts thumbing through it.
I'm pleased to watch him for a moment but Cristina needs immediate recognition and her promised surgery, "Oh, and Dr. Shepherd, you said that you'd pick someone to scrub in if we helped."
"Oh, yes, right," That's exactly what he says whenever he forgets something, he forgot he bribed the interns to work on Katie's case, "Um, I'm sorry I can't take you both," He continues, "It's going to be a full house. Meredith, I'll see you in OR." He smiles at me for a second before walking away. I feel all of my blood rushing to my face. I can't believe he's giving me a surgery just because I'm his wife. Did he even think about whether or not Cristina deserved to scrub in? The death glare she gives me is strong enough that it could cause me to need surgery. Cristina tightens her jaw and then walks away, leaving me flustered and alone in the middle of the hospital.