Derek stood outside Seattle Grace Hospital. He hadn't been in this hospital or any hospital since Chrissy was discharged, more than two weeks ago. This was the longest he'd been away from working in years although an observer might say that he had been practicing medicine with Chrissy. He spent hours on the internet reading about bone marrow transplants and leukemia, and he put himself in charge of Chrissy's home healthcare. Still, he enjoyed being a stay-at-home dad, a new and fun role for him. He was surprised to realize that he didn't miss surgery much, but he knew that he was savoring every minute with Chrissy. He would have plenty of time to do surgeries, but, for all he knew, the next few weeks might be all the time he had with her. He couldn't help thinking that he had lost out on the first three years of her life, when she was healthy, and that, even if she survived the bone marrow transplant, he would spend the rest of their time together worrying about her health.

But then he thought about how much he was enjoying his time with Chrissy, both at Meredith's house and at the trailer. He was living in a happy bubble, at least when Chrissy was awake, and he was afraid his bubble would burst when he entered the hospital and met with other parents struggling with this awful disease. But Meredith had insisted it would be good for them to participate in the parent support group, and he thought he should support her in this. He was proud that she was not living in denial and wanted to confront reality. He realized that she had really grown since he had left Seattle, undoubtedly because of the necessity of being a single mom and now because Chrissy was sick. He just wished that Chrissy was healthy.

"Dr. Shepherd, what are you doing loitering outside the hospital?" asked Dr. Bailey as she left the hospital for the day.

"I'm meeting Meredith in ten minutes. She volunteered to work late today. I got here early, and I figured I would wait until it was time to meet."

"What are you going to be doing?"

Derek frowned. "She wants us to go to the parent support group."

"That's a good idea. No one will be better understand you than others taking the same journey."

"Maybe. But I'm enjoying living in denial. The past two and a half weeks with Chrissy at home have been magical. She is such a great kid. I can't thank you enough for calling me. Although I would have been here on the next flight if you had told me she was my child."

"I did what I could do, given patient confidentiality."

"I know. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I hadn't been a match."

"What do you think would have happened?"

"Well, my not being a match wouldn't have ruled me out as Chrissy's dad, so I probably would have come out to meet her and see if she was Meredith's daughter."

"That's what we figured. You're a good guy, and you're a great father."

"Thanks. I just hope the bone marrow transplant works. It's a risky procedure."

"She has a terrific team of doctors and nurses, and she's going to get the best possible care."

"I would want every child to get the best. But that's what makes going to the parent support group difficult. We're not ordinary parents. We know a lot about medicine."

"But you are parents first when it comes to Chrissy. It may be helpful, and you and Meredith may help the other parents. But it's a good thing. And you do need to prepare yourself for the bone marrow transplant."

"I dread bringing her back to the hospital."

"That's something you can talk about in the support group. Just know that everyone here is rooting for Chrissy, and we'll do whatever we can for her and for you and Meredith."

"I know that. And I appreciate that. And I'm so glad you were here for Meredith when I had no idea about Chrissy."

"I was always glad to help."

"Thank you. And thank you for chatting with me. It's time for me to go look for Meredith."

"Good luck."

Derek found Meredith still charting on the surgical floor. "I think it's time for us to go, if you still want to do this thing."

"I think we should. I just need five more minutes to finish this chart."

"Okay. I'll wait for you." And he did just stand by her side waiting for her to finish. After she finished, they went upstairs and into the group therapy room. Derek and Meredith sat down together. They were the second couple to arrive, but within minutes several other couples came in as well as two women who appeared to be on their own. Seeing them, Derek was glad that he had agreed to come with Meredith.

A few minutes later, Dr. Wyatt came in. She opened the discussion. "We have two new parents who are joining us tonight, so let's start by going around with names and tell us briefly about your child and tell us what is most on your mind today. Let's start with Greg and Maria."

Greg was a tall white guy with dark brown hair, cut conservatively. He looked to be in his 40s and a businessman of some kind. He wore a navy blue suit and tie, probably Brooks Brothers. "Maria and I are old-timers here. We came for the first time about three years ago, when our son, who was then 11 years old was first diagnosed with bone cancer, osteosarcoma. This group was so helpful to us that we keep coming back. And now things are changing again. Gary, our son, just finished eighth grade, and he's going to high school. His leg was amputated below the knee, and he wears a prosthetic most of the time. He's really worried about going to high school. So that's what we're worried about now, supporting our son as he transitions to high school."

Maria, who was beautiful, had long black hair and also dressed in a conservative gray suit. "He's worried about girls. He tells us he doesn't think any girl is going to be interested in him. And I tell him that any girl who is not interested in him because he's missing part of his leg is one he's better off without, but he doesn't see it that way. I'd like him to participate in a group of cancer survivors, but he's not interested. He wants to pretend it never happened although he can't, when all he has to do to remember is look at his leg."

A blonde woman who was wearing blue jeans and a tank top interrupted. "Maria, you should tell him my story. I'm Alice, and my husband Darryl left me four weeks to the day our daughter Darla was diagnosed with neuroblastoma, stage 3. She's just four years old. She was immediately hospitalized and given chemo, and after four weeks of dealing with nausea and other side effects, he told me he couldn't do it anymore and left. I still have his health insurance and he's paying the mortgage and sending checks, but he hasn't come to the hospital or called or anything. Now it's been more than six months, and Darla still asks every day where her daddy is, and all I can say is he had a business trip, and I'm hoping he comes home soon. But really, we're better off if he's not going to be in it for the long haul. You need people who are going to be there, come hell or high water. My mom and dad have been great. But Darryl has been a big disappointment. For me, my main problem is how to answer Darla when she asks about her dad."

"You do really find out who your friends are and which family members can be counted on when you have a sick kid," said an African American woman, who looked to be in her thirties. "I'm Jasmine. When my son Nicky got sick, my neighbor volunteered to do my grocery shopping, and my daughter's best friend's mom organized a food delivery program and also arranged to take care of my daughter as needed for the duration. The woman I thought was my best friend, on the other hand, disappeared. Some people just can't handle the challenge. Nicky is seven and has rhinoblastoma. I've been attending this group for a year, and it's a been a big help to talk to people who really know what I'm going through."

"I'm Jerry, Nicky's dad," said the tall African-American man sitting next to Jasmine. "Nicky is a great kid, and it hurts us to see him so sick. But we are glad to be here, with people who know what the battle is like. Where we can be honest. It's hard work trying to keep everyone's spirits up. We need to worry about Nicky and make sure he's in good spirits. We have another daughter, she's older than Nicky, and we have to pay attention to her, too. And then my folks and Jasmine's folks want good news. It's hard to talk to them."

Meredith looked at Alice and then Jasmine and thought how lucky she was that Derek had come through for her. Her friends had all stepped up. Even her step-mother and her half-sisters stepped up. Her only disappointment was with her father, and he had consistently disappointed since she was five yeas old.

A pale woman with a snake tattoo curling around her neck began, "I feel very lucky that my boss has been very understanding, giving me paid leave for as long as I need. My little girl, Frannie, she's four, and she has Wilms tumor. She had to have a kidney removed, but we were lucky that the other kidney is fine so far. She's undergoing chemo now. And we live in Portland. My husband's home with our son. We need him to work. He comes on week-ends with Billy, who's two. Jimmy's parents are able to help with Billy, but it's hard to see him just on week-ends. He doesn't understand what's going on. I think that's easier than if he were older and knew what was going on. I'm Betsey, by the way."

"It's great if you have an understanding boss," said Jasmine. "Mine has given me an unpaid leave for as long as I need, so I know I have my job which is great. I could use money, but, as long as I have health insurance, I feel lucky. I get sick whenever I see another medical bill. I know everyone here is fighting to keep Nicky alive, but it's hard to pay the bills."

Derek realized that he and Meredith were extraordinarily fortunate in that they did not have to worry for a minute about medical bills. Their daughter had two health benefit plans to help, and Derek could easily pay any additional costs. And both had secure jobs. His heart went out to the parents who were struggling to pay the bills. He saw there was only one more couple to share with the group before it was their turn. He wasn't sure if he should speak first or let Meredith speak. He was a bit nervous. This would be the first time he told total strangers that his daughter was sick.

"I'm Dave Chan," said an Asian man who appeared to be in his forties. "My daughter Linda is fifteen and has Hodgkin's. She is doing well in treatment, and she is insisting on going to school and keeping up with her studies. Lilly and I worry about whether she's jeopardizing her health by continuing to study so hard."

"She says it is what we would do if we were sick," said his wife, an Asian woman also in her forties. "We're both computer programmers, and we work very hard. We have two other children, one younger and one older, and they've both been great. It helps that my older daughter, Kim, can drive. When Linda was diagnosed, we got Kim an old car to drive so that she's in charge of chauffeuring our son. She likes having the car, and she knows that it comes with the responsibility of driving her brother, so she's fine with it. We know we're very lucky. Our employer has been great, so we can take off as much time as we need. We work for the same employer, so we usually take turns working. Our main concern is whether Linda is pushing herself too much."

Dr. Wyatt intervened, "What do her doctors say?"

"They said that they are monitoring her closely, and they'll let us know if she needs to step back. They said that for some kids pretending to be normal helps them psychologically."

"Sounds like you should trust the doctors," said Greg. "Kids need to be kids, even if they are going through cancer treatment. The doctors here are great, and they're used to adolescents."

"I just want to be sure that Linda and her doctors know that her health is our main concern. I want them to know that we're not putting her under any pressure to stay on track in school; her treatment comes first."

Meredith realized it was their turn, and she decided to begin. "I'm Meredith, and my daughter Chrissy is three. She has leukemia, and right now, she's in remission and home and doing well, but her leukemia was very resistant to treatment, so she's going to have a bone marrow transplant soon, and I'm really worried because it's very risky."

"I'm Derek, Chrissy's dad, and like Meredith, I'm enjoying having Chrissy home. I think of it as living in a bubble where we can pretend she's fine even if she's still bald from the chemo. To protect her from infection, we have been keeping her at home, but I have a trailer on Bainbridge Island, and we go there and go on nature walks. Every moment is precious, but I'm also worried about taking her back to the hospital."

"It's tough having to make health care decisions for your kid. Maria and I went back and forth several times when the doctors first recommended amputating our son's leg, but our doctors all agreed it was necessary. So if the doctors all think a bone marrow transplant is needed, that's what you're going to have to do," said Greg.

"We know we have to do it, and I'm grateful that Derek is a match, but I'm terrified that she'll die." Tears started falling down her cheeks as she thought about Chrissy dying.

"You have to trust in the doctors. This hospital has wonderful doctors and nurses; it has a great success rate with childhood cancer," said Jasmine.

Derek thought that, as a doctor, he found it hard to place his trust in doctors; he knows they do their best, but sometimes their best is not good enough. But, for the moment, he and Meredith appeared to have agreed not to discuss their medical background, so he decided to be quiet.

"We all live in fear," said Maria softly. "Even after getting a good report, we have nightmares that the cancer has come back. There's no guarantee that it won't come back, or, worse, that the treatment won't result in a different cancer coming. I have put my trust in God, and I pray every day that the cancer won't return and that my child will live a long, happy, healthy life."

"One thing you might want to do, Derek, is take some photos of your nature walks and other favorite things to bring with you to the hospital. I found that having some photos of good memories was very helpful for Linda when she was in the hospital," said Dave Chan.

"And I make sure to have a new toy or book every week at least," said Betsey.

"I've looked into getting Darla a wish from the Make-a-Wish foundation. Right now, it seems that she won't be healthy enough to get a wish, but it's fun for us to talk about the things she'd like to do. And I tell her we'll go some day."

Derek smiled. "Thanks for the good ideas." He couldn't imagine asking for a wish when he's a neurosurgeon who could buy his daughter pretty much everything she could ask for, and he and Meredith had gotten Chrissy toys and books frequently when she was in the hospital (and even more now she was home), but he thought the idea of bringing photos of the trailer was one he'd use.

"And the best thing about the parent support group is that you will know some of the other parents when you're in the hospital. We're all in this fight together, and we can help each other out. Sometimes it's nice to spend a few minutes having coffee with another parent. We talk about ways to keep our kids' spirits up and our own. And sometimes we can help each other out in other ways," said Maria.

Meredith looked at Marla with a smile. Somehow she had totally zoned out on the other parents and other kids when Chrissy was in the hospital. She looked around the room and realized that Darla looked a bit familiar.

"Sometimes another parent stays with Darla when I need to meet with doctors. And Jasmine told me that bubbles are fun for kids in hospitals. So I got bubbles, and Darla loves blowing bubbles. And Jasmine gave me some cute books."

"That's a great idea," said Meredith. "Chrissy loves bubbles. I hadn't thought about bringing them to the hospital."

"They're fun for a sick kid. Anything that will give them some happiness is good," said Jasmine.

"Thank you all for coming today to the parent support group meeting. I hope to see you next week," said Dr. Wyatt, as the hour was up.

After spending a few minutes chatting with the other parents, Derek and Meredith headed out. "We can go over to my apartment and order a pizza, if you want," offered Derek.

"That sounds good."

Derek took out his cell phone and ordered a pizza and a salad for delivery. They walked silently to the apartment. Once they entered the apartment, Derek asked if Meredith wanted a drink. "I have tequila, if you want."

"I could use a shot. It's so sad to think of all the other children who have cancer."

"I know. And so many have to worry about money. At least we don't have that worry."

"Derek, that's the least of it. For me, it's whether Chrissy lives or dies. That's all that's important."

"I know. I'd do anything to help her."

"Your bone marrow may save her life. You're doing a lot. My heart breaks for Darla and Alice. To have a father who doesn't have the courage to stand by his daughter when she's sick. It's awful. Of course I know that myself. Not only did Thatcher abandon me, he can't bring himself to visit Chrissy. But everyone else has been great." She looked at Derek and met his eyes, "You've been fabulous. You're such a wonderful father. I feel so guilty that you missed her as a baby and toddler; you missed the time when she was healthy. No matter what, we're going to worry about her getting sick again for the rest of our lives, as long as she is alive that is."

"It's my own fault, Meredith. I should never have left, or, at least I should have come back, at least after I got divorced. Don't blame yourself."

She met his eyes and saw that he was being serious. "That's so sweet. You're really a good person. I wish there was something I could do to thank you."

"I have an idea," Derek said, smiling.

Meredith looked at him and giggled. "Sex?"

"No, although that would be fun. I have another idea."

She looked at him puzzled.