Awoken in the middle of the night by the severe stabbing in her residual limb, Arizona reached down to massage the aching muscles and became concerned when she felt the heat radiating off her skin. Sitting up, she turned on the light, flipped off the covers, and groaned in both pain and frustration when she noticed how red and swollen it was. Touching a particularly sore spot, she could feel the chafing where the top of her socket met her thigh and muttered, "Stupid dance game." She knew better than to push herself like that, but she was having a good time and sometimes, she just needed to feel…well, she needed to feel like she could do the things she used to do and dancing was something she really missed. The only time she even came close to dancing was when she and Sofia jumped around her living room singing to Disney songs. Reaching into her bedside table, she took out two ibuprofen, popped the capsules in her mouth and washed them down with the bottle of water she always kept at the side of her bed. Knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep without tending to her wounds and trying to reduce the swelling, Arizona reached for her crutches, pulled herself out of bed, and made her way to the kitchen, stopping at the linen closet to retrieve the bag of medical supplies she kept there for exactly this purpose.
After setting the bag on the table, she went to the freezer, took out the two packages of frozen peas she used as ice packs, then sat down at the table in front of her med kit. Finally taking a good look at her leg, she flinched when she saw the angry red marks at the top of her thigh which were sure to blister. It felt as if this was happening more frequently and wondered if she needed to have her socket resized. She didn't recall having this much trouble with her old leg and made a mental note to call her prosthetist. Putting on her gloves, she took out the tube of cream she used for chafing and blistering, squeezed some onto her palm, and just to numb the pain a little, added a small amount of lidocaine lotion, then proceeded to apply it to the affected area and wrap it with gauze. Moving on to the rest of her leg, she carefully pulled on the protective sock, precariously balanced one bag of the frozen vegetables on the top of her leg while holding the other beneath it and wrapped it with an ace bandage, just tight enough to add some pressure, but not so much that she would cause further swelling.
Already feeling better, she put her supplies back into the bag, left it on the table since she knew she would need it in the morning, pulled herself up, grabbed her crutches and went back to her bedroom. Once she was settled, she propped her leg up for support, as well as to reduce the swelling, and laid her head against the pillows, already closing her eyes, grateful that this was a minor pain episode rather than phantom limb pain. Though it had been quite a while since she experienced it, she was somewhat concerned that it would arise again at some point while she and Callie were having their intense conversations and digging up the pain from the past, but so far she'd been fortunate and they stayed hidden in the recesses of her mind. Closing her eyes, she started her breathing exercises to help her relax and while trying to find a focal point or happy memory to concentrate on, she couldn't help but replay scenes from the day before. As visions of sharing breakfast and shopping with Callie and Sofia played through her mind, the pain receded and she found herself drifting off.
When Arizona awoke again, it was to the shrill sound of her pager as it vibrated across her bedside table. Blindly reaching for it, she opened one eye to read the light blue screen and sat straight up, panic taking over her sleep-addled brain as she read, "911 NICU Cayden." As she began tearing at the brown bandage on her leg, contemplating using her old prosthetic with the c-chip, her phone rang out with Karev's ring tone. She connected the call and without greeting, asked, "What's going on?" The gruff voice at the other end of the line barked out, "His breathing is getting worse, temp is 103, blood tests show a high white count, I've ordered chest x-rays and I'm waiting for the portable machine now." Arizona pulled herself out of bed with her crutches, found her other prosthetic leg in the closet, quickly attached it, sighed in relief when the shorter socket didn't rub against her sores, and declared, "I'm getting ready now. Talk me through it, give me all of his stats. What are his O2 levels? I want you to test for VAP or BPD. Do you hear fluid in the lungs?" As her protégé relayed all of the information she was asking for, Arizona threw on a pair of sweats, pulled her hair back into a ponytail, grabbed her purse and keys, and was in her car, backing out of the driveway by the time he finished answering her questions.
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After spending Sunday morning in the park, Callie wrangled her hyper daughter into the bath to wash off all the dirt and sweat, prepared a healthy lunch, then excused Sofia to go to her room to play with her dolls. Taking advantage of the brief respite, Callie sat at the dining room table preparing a schedule for the days she would be at The Vet Center and wrote out a tentative plan for her trial. After that, she started to read through the files of the other prospective participants to see which prosthetics they currently had and the problems or discomfort they were experiencing. Reaching the middle of the stack, Callie noticed that this patient encountered severe cramping in the leg as well as frequent chafing and blistering around the top of the socket, especially after being active or spending an excessive amount of time on his feet. She furrowed her brow when she realized that at least three other patients raised the same concerns. Flipping through their charts once again, looking for any similarities between them, it occurred to her that they all had the same model of prosthetic from a reputable company. Returning to a file in which she saw a picture of the patient's wounds, as well as another image of him wearing the prosthetic leg, her heart sank.
This was the same model as the one she'd seen Arizona put on after switching from her running blade last weekend. Callie was certain it was the same leg because she recalled noticing the sleek metallic socket and the more sculpted calf which was far different than the one Arizona had when they were married. Though this leg was far better quality than the legs Arizona used right after her amputation and even after purchasing the upgrade with the chip, if her theory was correct, it appeared there were several problems with its design. Looking at the photos again, she could tell right away that the socket was longer than it needed to be given the measurements of the residual limbs. While one would think a longer socket added extra support or balance, the socket needs to be proportionate with the rest of the leg and the top or lip of the socket should be designed to suit the needs of each patient. If an amputee is more active, they require a different type of socket and the sockets in these pictures along with the measurements of each amputee's residual limb, show that the top of the socket lands in an area where the muscle would be flexing and extending, therefore over time it would cause slippage, resulting in chafing at the least and possible serious injury or overcompensation from other parts of the body which could result in back injury or damage to the intact leg.
It was then that she remembered seeing the slight limp Arizona was trying to hide after they left the pizza place the day before. She knew her ex-wife would never complain about it, especially to her, and Callie now had enough sense not to point it out, so she let it go and tried not to push like she always did. Though the thought hadn't crossed her mind in two years, Callie was now concerned that her ex-wife might be in severe pain and there was no one to take care of her. She sighed in frustration, knowing that was no longer her job, but it didn't mean she couldn't worry. Guilt washed over her in waves because the last time she said looking after Arizona wasn't her job, the blonde ended up having a breakdown. Doing her best to focus on her work, Callie kept glancing at her phone, trying to figure out a reason to call her ex-wife without making it look like she was checking up on her. Against her better judgement, she snatched up the device, scrolled to Arizona's number and placed her thumb on the green button on her screen to connect the call. Her concern only increased when the call went straight to voicemail. She closed her eyes, counted to ten, and did her best not to panic or think the worst. She wasn't Arizona's person anymore, if she needed help, surely she would call Karev or Bailey. With that thought in mind, she exhaled slowly and returned to her work, trying not to think about what it meant that she was so concerned about Arizona or why thoughts of her kept arising throughout the day after all this time.
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Monday morning, an exhausted, and frustrated Arizona stood in the isolation room in full PPE watching as her tiniest of patients struggled with each breath, even on the ventilator, and listened as the beeping of the monitor gradually decreased. Fortunately, the x-rays and scans were negative for bronchopulmonary dysplasia or BPD, which was a disease that could cause respiratory problems well into childhood and possibly throughout his life. What they did find though, could be more fatal for the micro-preemie. It appeared that despite taking all necessary measures to prevent it, Cayden had developed Ventilator-associated pneumonia or VAP for short. She had spent the last 24 hours moving the baby into isolation, hovering over the incubator, listening to the unsteady beeping of the machines and reading any article she could find to help guide her in how to best treat him. She kept running into dead ends because there were no articles of successful treatments for VAP in patients of this size. In fact, it was just the opposite, all she could find was the same statistics over and over again, only 2 or 3 out of every 10 preterm infants who developed VAP after 5 or more days of ventilation survived.
Hearing the wheezing and the attempt of a cough coming from around the ventilation tube, Arizona closed her eyes, fearing that every coughing episode was an indication he was taking his last breaths. She stuck her hand through one of the thick latex gloves which were now attached to the incubator to ensure a sterile environment, and whispered, "You are going to be one of those 2 or 3 survivors little man. I will figure this out." Fortunately, her voice was stronger than her confidence at the moment. She was wracking her brain trying to think of something she could do. If she kept him on the vent, his symptoms could worsen, but if she took him off, especially with the pneumonia and his underdeveloped lungs, she was certain he wouldn't be able to breathe on his own. If that were the case, the odds that she could intubate him again were slim to none given the swelling that had already occurred in his esophagus. As she rubbed his chest, her finger brushed under his little chin and an idea started forming in her mind. Sticking her other hand into the small enclosure, her soothing touches became an examination as she carefully lifted his head and ran her fingers over his throat and around his neck. Removing her hand, she watched his little chest rise and fall and with each intake of breath, his cough became more prominent, almost as if he were choking.
She knew what she wanted to do was risky and she would need permission from the chief, but she also knew she was running out of options and Cayden was running out of time. She quickly pulled out her phone, paged Bailey 911 to the isolation room and hoped like hell the other surgeon would agree with her. When she heard the door slide open, she turned her head to find Bailey rushing into the room donned in full PPE as well. The shorter woman nodded toward the infant and asked, "Any change?" Arizona shook her head and replied, "Only for the worse." Bailey tilted her head, studied the maternal fetal surgeon's face for a moment, noticed the determined look in her eyes, and asked, "I'm not going to like what is about to come out of your mouth am I?" Arizona looked at the tiny baby again, the little boy who she had named after her own unborn child, took in his translucent skin, the scar on his chest, the unruly clump of black curls on his head, and could only see Sofia lying there, and that was enough to give her the strength and confidence she needed to follow through with her plan.
Miranda Bailey knew this little boy held a special place in the fetal surgeon's heart due to the similarities between his birth and her daughter's. She also knew that because of that, she had to be the voice of reason. Arizona took a deep breath and explained, "If I keep him on the vent, his condition could worsen and we could lose him within hours. I want to take him off the vent and see if he can breathe on his own, he's…" The chief cut her off with, "Robbins, you know if you take him off that vent, you won't be able to intubate him again." Arizona bit her bottom lip, nodded, and argued, "No but I could do a tracheotomy, it would allow the esophageal muscles to heal, the swelling to go down, give us better access for suction, and proper oral hygiene." Bailey studied the blonde and replied, "It's a big risk." Arizona nodded and answered, "It's one I'm willing to take rather than sit here and watch him die. It's never been done before, but it doesn't mean I can't do it and you know…you KNOW Miranda, if I didn't think I could do it, if I didn't think it would work, I wouldn't attempt it." Bailey nodded in agreement, that's one thing she did know; Robbins didn't cut just to cut, she took a lot of risks but never unnecessarily and more often than not, those risks paid off.
The shorter woman walked over to the incubator, put her hand inside the glove and rested two fingers on the tiny chest that quivered with each breath. She could feel the rattle of fluid in his lungs, hear the cough and the gagging sounds, and that was enough to tell her she needed to trust that this request was being made by the top pediatric and maternal-fetal surgeon in the country and not by the sympathetic mother. Turning around, she relented, "Call Karev, have him gather everything you need, make sure it's thoroughly cleaned and sterilized…twice. You get him and a nurse, I don't want anyone else in here. More hands, more germs." Arizona sighed in relief and said, "Thank you Bailey. I can't just…" Miranda nodded and replied, "It's our job as surgeons to do what we can for our patients. You're his advocate, his voice, and I trust that you know what you are doing." Just as she reached the door, she added, "Doesn't mean I won't be on the other side of these windows watching you." Arizona smirked and replied, "You mean supporting me from afar." The chief chuckled, waved her hand, and huffed out, "You have a tiny human to save Robbins, get to it." The blonde nodded, paged Karev, then sat down to write out her plan, going through every step, and calculating the amount of time she would have after taking out the vent and performing the trach if it was necessary. A huge part of her hoped it wasn't necessary, but then she'd have to formulate a different plan for proper oxygenation if by some chance, this little guy was ready to breathe on his own.
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Callie rushed into the hospital Monday morning, five minutes before the weekly department head meeting was scheduled to start, followed directly by the monthly board meeting. Though she knew she would be late, the idea of spending the majority of her day in meetings didn't set well with her, so she took her time, stopped at the coffee cart for the largest cup of coffee they had, then made her way up to join the others. When the elevator doors opened, she nearly crashed right into Meredith and found herself being dragged to the conference room. Trying to keep her balance and wondering what was going on, she joked, "I know I'm late, but is this necessary?" The only response she received was a glare from slate blue eyes and decided to keep her mouth shut.
Meredith finally released her hold on the ortho surgeon but still walked at a clipped pace, leaving no time for anyone to stop and talk to them. Given the fact that Callie obviously just arrived, she was almost certain she hadn't heard about Cayden yet and felt like she needed to be the one to tell her. The circumstances of his birth hit home for all of them and was a stark reminder of what could have been. She knew this little baby held a special place in Arizona's heart for sure, but Callie was just as invested in his well-being. She'd never said anything about it, but she'd seen the ortho surgeon sitting in the NICU on Arizona's days off and sometimes late at night if she was called in on an emergency. So when the meeting was cancelled because Robbins and Karev were developing a plan to save him and so Bailey could oversee the procedure, she decided to stay and wait for Callie so she could give her the news herself.
When they reached the conference room, Callie noticed it was empty, turned to her friend and asked, "Where is everyone?" She was met with a somber expression and her heart dropped to her stomach. In this place anything could happen and by the look on the general surgeon's face, something had indeed happened. Meredith pointed to one of the chairs and suggested, "Sit down Torres." Callie sighed, took a seat, and prepared herself for the worst, after all, no good conversation ever started like that. Taking a closer look at her friend, she could see the sadness and concern in her eyes and quickly asked, "Mer, are you okay? What can I do? What do you…" Meredith was touched by her friend's concern, something that hadn't come so naturally to her in quite a while. Normally she'd complain she didn't have time for this, list all of the things she had to do, then maybe catch on to the fact that something was wrong. This though, it was new, but it wasn't. This was the Callie who thought of others first. Taking a deep breath, she shook her head and proclaimed, "It's not me, it's…" The sinking feeling washed over Callie once again, the fear that Arizona had hurt herself or was in severe pain, and unable to stop herself, she shot out of her chair and started to panic, asking, "Is it Arizona? Where is she? What hap…" Thoroughly surprised by this response as well, the general surgeon grabbed her friend's arm before she could leave the room and go on a rampage, then ordered again, "Sit down Cal. It's not Arizona."
Slumping in relief, Callie sat down once again and asked, "What's going on Grey?" Meredith looked around the room, then looked the brunette in the eyes and declared, "It's Cayden. He's developed VAP, has a high fever, high white cell count, and Robbins has been here since 7:00 am yesterday running tests and doing everything that she can to keep him alive." Callie rested her elbows on the table, dropped her head in her hands and clarified, "So the vent which is supposed to be keeping him alive is slowly killing him?" Meredith nodded and supplied, "That about sums it up. Robbins has a plan though, it's risky and has never been done before, not on someone of that size, but she got Bailey's approval and she and Karev are in the isolation room preparing for the procedure now." Callie lifted her head so only her eyes peeked out through her fingers and asked, "He's in isolation?" The blonde nodded and replied, "I needed to be the one to tell you. I didn't want you finding out through hospital gossip or after…" Callie shook her head, cut her friend off and curtly snapped, "He's not going to die. Arizona's the best and if she has a plan…he's not going to die Mer. She couldn't handle it." Meredith tilted her head and could see the other woman was near tears. She was pretty sure Arizona wouldn't be the only one mourning if something happened. Reaching out, she took one of Callie's hands and suggested, "Let's go give her our support, show them they aren't alone." Callie nodded, swiped at the tears she was fighting to hold in, stood up and followed her friend out of the room.
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Arizona watched as Karev left the room to get all of the supplies they would need, then turned and went to the incubator, caressed the tiny little hand, watched as itty bitty fingers opened then closed around her forefinger, and whispered, "I know we aren't supposed to make promises to our patients, but I promise I'll do everything I can to keep you here so you can grow big and strong." Hearing the door open once again, she saw Miranda standing behind her, and informed her, "Karev is prepping everything now." The chief nodded then ordered, "Go take a walk Robbins. Get some coffee, put some food in your stomach, and clear your head." Arizona opened her mouth to argue but knew there was no use in wasting her breath when the other woman crossed her arms and stared at her with an arched brow as if challenging her to say something. The blonde looked at the door then back to the incubator and Miranda proclaimed, "I'll be right here. I won't take my eyes off him." Arizona nodded then stepped into the small prep room, removed her PPE gear, washed her hands, then left the room. She knew her chief was right; she hadn't left Cayden's side nor thought about anything else in over 24 hours. As soon as the blonde was out of sight, Miranda walked to the small plastic box and pleaded, "I need you to fight. She…she needs you to fight. You may not have your parents, but you are loved and cared for and that woman, she doesn't know it yet, but you are exactly what she needs." Saying what she had to say, Miranda sent up a silent prayer asking for God's protection for the baby and saying an extra prayer for her friend who had suffered so much loss.
After getting a cup of coffee and a donut from the coffee cart, Arizona started towards the elevators when she saw Kepner. Though they weren't as close as they had been, they were speaking again, and she knew her friend would be able to help her with what she wanted to do; what she felt compelled to do but had no clue where to start. Walking up to the redhead, she linked their arms, turned her around to walk in the opposite direction and commanded, "I need your help." Without saying a word, April allowed herself to be led, knowing that the last couple of days have been hard on her friend. When they reached their destination, the younger woman wrinkled her nose in confusion and asked, "Ahh, what are we doing here?" Arizona swallowed thickly and replied, "I need…um…tell me what to do."
April looked inside the empty room, took her friend's hand, and led her up to the front. Standing near the row of candles, she explained, "You just light one of these, think about the person you are here for, then sit down on the bench and talk." Arizona tilted her head in question and asked, "Just talk?" The redhead nodded and replied, "Just talk. Say what is on your mind, ask for what you need. Sometimes, before a big surgery, I ask for a steady hand and a clear head so I can focus on saving the life of my patient. Just…talk." Arizona nodded once, took a deep breath, and whispered, "Thanks." April put her arm around her friend, squeezed her tight and asked, "Do you want me to stay?" The blonde shook her head and answered, "No, I think…um…I think I need to be alone for a few minutes." The trauma surgeon smiled softly and replied, "You've got this Robbins. We're all praying for him and for you." She then turned and quietly left the chapel, closing the door behind her.
Arizona looked around the room, a room she had only been in one other time and that was to support Callie when she was drowning in guilt for wishing Izzie was dead then finding out she had cancer. Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, she picked up one of the long matches, struck it against the scratchy strip of paper to ignite it, then found three candles next to one another, lit the first while thinking of her unborn child and then the second while thinking of her daughter who had grown so big and strong, and the third for the baby with the same name as the son she never had who was brought into the world so much like her daughter and was now fighting for his life. Blowing out the match, she disposed of it, sat on the bench directly behind her, looked around the room once again, focused on the three candles, and started, "I know, um…I don't come in here and I don't uh…I don't know if you can hear me if you're up there. I just, so many people believe you are and they turn to you when they need you and right now, right now I need you. I need guidance and strength…" Arizona stopped briefly, trying to think about what she really wanted to say, closed her eyes, and let the words come to her.
When Callie and Meredith reached the isolation room in the NICU, they found Bailey standing over the incubator and Arizona was nowhere in sight. Meredith noticed the brunette's eyes darting all around looking for the blonde fetal surgeon and suggested, "She may have needed a break. Maybe she went to the coffee cart or the cafeteria." Callie nodded, knowing her friend was probably right and stood shaking her leg nervously. For some reason, she felt the need to see Arizona, she needed to put her eyes on her, make sure she was okay." The general surgeon could almost feel the anxiety coming from the other woman and offered, "I'll stay here, you go." Without further prompting, Callie rushed down the hallway in search of her ex-wife. Knowing which coffee cart she preferred, Callie headed there first and after questioning the girl behind the counter, found out she had just missed the blonde by a few minutes. Standing in the lobby looking around to see where she could have gone, Callie noticed Kepner coming down the hall towards her, went to meet her and asked, "Have you seen Arizona?" Having no idea of anything that had been going on between the two women, Kepner's protective hackles went up and she snapped, "Today isn't the day Torres. She needs to stay focused on her patient."
Callie looked at the younger woman who was once so timid, and though she appreciated the fact that she was protecting her friend so fiercely, she didn't at all like that she felt she needed to protect Arizona from her. Running her hand down her face, Callie tried to stay calm and replied, "I know, I know. That's uh…that's why I'm looking for her." At the redhead's skeptical look, Callie sighed, and though she didn't feel like she owed anyone an explanation, she stated, "Look Kepner, I know what you must think of me and I get it, but I need to see Arizona." Hearing the pleading tone and recognizing that Cayden may be special to the ortho surgeon as well, the shorter woman stepped aside and pointed down the hall from where she just came. Callie furrowed her brow in confusion and declared, "There's nothing down there but the chapel." April nodded and proclaimed, "And now you know why I'm telling you today is not the day. Arizona Robbins asked me to take her to the chapel." Callie glanced down the hall and realized in that moment how bad things must be, how hopeless Arizona was feeling if she needed to go to the chapel. Nodding her head at the other surgeon, Callie swiftly walked down the hall toward the small room her ex-wife had never entered before except to be there for her. Once she reached the room at the end of the hall, Callie quietly opened the door, slipped inside and her heart nearly broke as she listened to her ex-wife talk to a God she didn't believe in.
After deciding what she wanted to say, why she felt so strongly about coming here, Arizona continued, "I…I know it seems like I only talk to you if I need something. I prayed for you to bring Callie back to me after our accident, I prayed for you to watch over Sofia, and I prayed on that mountain. I begged you to send someone to find us, to keep us alive until they did. You…you answered all of those prayers, so that's why I am coming to you now." She stopped, stared at the flickering flames of the three candles she had just lit and declared, "Kepner told me to light a candle and think about the person I was lighting it for. I don't know the rules, so I lit three. There are three people on my mind, three people in my heart. I'm thinking of my daughter who was so small and fought so hard to live and to thrive. Right now, there's a sweet little baby boy upstairs, who was born in the same way she was. He's already lost so much and for the third time in as many weeks, he's fighting for his life. I'm about to go up there and try to save him and all I can think about right now is the person I named him after. I never got a chance to meet that baby, I never got to hold him in my arms, but for a moment, a brief moment in time, he was mine and I already loved him. I lost that Cayden Mattias, that's what I named him, well that's the name I picked out for him, I hadn't even told Callie that yet, but that was the name I wanted for him. When this baby was born, so much like our Sofia, I knew he needed a strong name, he earned the name I never got to use. So…I guess…um, I guess I'm here to ask you, even though I'm not his mother, please don't take this Cayden away too." Looking up at the candles again, Arizona's vision was blurred and she could taste the salt of her tears.
Sniffling, she wiped her eyes and stood to leave, not knowing if she was supposed to blow out the candles, so she went to them, ran her finger around the rim of the first one and softly said, "There's not a day that goes by that mommy doesn't think about you. I know if there's a heaven, you're up there. I need you to watch over me today and help this little Cayden get better. He's not a replacement, no one will ever replace you, but he is named in your honor so you know I've never forgotten about you." When she turned to go, she kept her eyes focused on the floor until she heard a choked out sob coming from in front of her and looked up to see Callie standing before her, one arm wrapped around her stomach, her other hand shaking as it covered her mouth, and tears rolled down her reddened cheeks. Arizona knew she didn't need to ask how long Callie had been there, she could tell by the pain-filled expression on her face that she'd heard everything. She stood frozen, not knowing what to say, not knowing if she needed to say anything at all. She watched as Callie lowered her hand, looked her in the eye, and in a tone so soft, yet filled with so much anguish, she asked, "You named him Cayden?"
A/N: I know it has been a while. Thank you all for your amazing reviews and all the love you've shown for this story. Please know I haven't abandoned nor forgotten it. I am writing two stories at once and needed to get through a few chapters of Lucky Enough before I could focus on this one again.