Everything Has Changed ❤️ {Jackson Avery}

Seventy Seven

I'm standing with Owen in the lobby as we discuss the big storm that's coming with the staff.

Owen: this storm will bring in a lot of casualties. We're gonna need to make room for them, so let's discharge all patients that can be.

Savannah: post-op and long-term patients are gonna be transferred to Seattle Pres further inland. We're gonna bring in supplementals– water, food, meds, lighting.

Owen: uh, we're gonna be checking and refueling the backup generators. As for you surgeons...

Savannah: push, postpone, or cancel all elective procedures until after this storm. There will be a list of available surgeons. Most importantly, we're gonna need to print hard copies of all computerized patient charts in case of a power loss.

Jackson: all of them? Do we have time to—

Bailey: I'll do that.

I smile at Bailey.

Owen: Bailey, it's good to have you back. I'll put you on the OR rotation.

Bailey: uh, I meant I'll do the charts.

I sigh as Bailey walks away.

Savannah: everyone, they're saying that this is going to be a bad one, but we have three days to prepare. So let's do this and be ready when the storm hits. Dr. Hunt and I will be available if you have any questions. Thank you.

I step down and approach Jackson and Natalie.

Jackson: are you sure you should be putting all this pressure on yourself, darling?

Natalie: Jackson's right, mama. I mean, you can afford to slow down a bit.

Savannah: I'm pregnant. I'm not sick.

Natalie: you're very pregnant.

Jackson: exactly. You're three weeks away from your due date.

Natalie: and who knows, she could come early. Maybe any day now.

Savannah: you guys, I'm feeling great. I was made for this. This is my time to shine.

I kiss my daughter and boyfriend then run off.

-later-

I'm running through the halls with April and Murphy following behind me.

Savannah: clear the hallway for cots, people will come looking for shelter.

Murphy: how bad is this supposed to be?

Savannah: hope for the best, prepare for the worst, right?

I approach the ambulance.

Savannah: what do we got?

Paramedic: 39 year old construction worker. Wind blew him off a building. Fell four stories to impale himself on three bars of standing rebar. Vitals are stable. Minimal blood loss on the scene. Maintaining airway.

Savannah: okay. Let's go.

Murphy: let his name be Bob. Please let his name be Bob.

I look over at Murphy.

April: why?

Murphy: shishka-Bob.

I glare at Murphy.

Leon: my name's Leon.

Paramedic: the patient's awake and responsive.

Murphy: oh my god. I'm so sorry.

Leon: it's bad, huh? This is really bad? Am I gonna die?

April: the fact that we're talking right now, Leon, means it's not as bad as it could be.