[ here comes the flood ]
"I feel like I'm in high school again," I slouched down in my seat, and put my feet up on the seat in front of me.
"Did your high school have problems with people not teaching correctly?" Cristina asked.
"No, just sitting in an auditorium like this. We had meetings like this too," I said, "They sucked."
"Listen up people," Webber stood before all of us, up on the stage, "Listen up. I know we're busy people so I'm going to try to be brief. I am introducing a new teaching protocol here at Seattle Grace. Some of these rules are new, and some of these are old rules, newly reinforced."
"I'm not excited for these rules," I whispered.
"Yeah, me either," Cristina nodded, getting her notes ready.
"First, second, and third year residents will no longer be allowed to de facto specialize. The practice interferes with a fully rounded surgical career. No more."
I looked over at Cristina as she wrote down all that he was saying.
"Personal relationships, personal loyalties, personal favorites, will no longer factor in our training program. Attendings, you will spread your knowledge to all of your residents. In addition we will focus on patient communication and bedside manner. For some of us, that means learning the lost art of humanity and compassion. For others that means not getting emotionally involved with patients. This is a surgical program. Psychiatry is on the fifth floor. Let's not confuse the two. In addition, residents, your interns reflect on you. If they fail, you fail. If they succeed, you succeed. Attendings, that goes for residents as well. Teach with enthusiasm. Learn with enthusiasm. We are surgeons. We cut out malignancies. Let's start at home people."
••
"Barry Patmore. 63," Meredith presented, in a lowered voice, "Has been experiencing chronic headaches for the past seven years, has been treated with narcotics, antiseizure medications, antidepressants, and antipsychotic medications with no success."
"How's the pain today Mr.Patmore?" Derek asked the patient, "Scale of one to ten?"
"Eight. It's always an eight," the man groaned.
"Which is why Mr.Patmore's last consult suggested a bilateral cingulotomy-" Derek told us, until he was interrupted by Cristina.
"I'm sorry, a frontal lobotomy for a headache?" Cristina asked.
"Too loud. Please," Mr.Patmore gasped, "And could you do something about the buzzing. Do we really need all these machines?"
"Mr.Patmore has been experiencing intense pain for the past seven years," Derek continued.
"But the cingulotomy could cause seizures, or cognitive defects, or behavioral changes," Meredith said.
"Which is why we're going to explore every other possible option before resorting to such a radical surgery," Derek said.
"Dr.Yang, you'll be assisting Dr.Shepherd today," Webber told Cristina.
We all left the room and followed behind Webber to the next patient.
"Jack O'Brien. 47. Scheduled for an abdominal aortic aneurysm repair," Cristina presented, "His last C.T. showed calcification."
She opened the chart and walked over to the other side of his bed, and handed it to Hahn.
"So I ordered at C.T. Angio to determine wether it had worsened or remained stable," She finished.
"Nice catch, Yang. You can take him down after rounds," Hahn told her.
"Dr.Dixon will take over," I felt a hand on my shoulder, "Dr.Yang you're done here. Thank you."
••
Webber was pretty serious about these new rules. He had moved all of our patients around, and made sure everything was going to plan.
"Huh. That's weird," I frowned.
I was bringing Mr.O'Brien down for a C.T. when the wheels on his wheelchair stopped. I tried to push it forward but it wouldn't move.
"I think it's broken," I sighed.
"That's how things work around me. My toaster broke last month. Then my cat ran away and my back porch collapsed. Also, my tv only shows the color green," he sighed.
"Don't worry, Mr.O'Brien. I'll get another chair," I told him, and walked off to get a chair.
"It's no problem. I'm fine. I can walk," he said, standing up, and walking away, "It's safer anyway.
"Oh no, Mr.O'Brien you need to stay in the chair. It's hospital policy," I ran after him.
"I've also had three car wrecks in the last year," he continued.
"Mr.O'Brien," I called after him.
"Woah!" He yelled before he fell down.
I winced as I watched it happen and heard a crunch, "Mr.O'Brien! I need a gurney over here!"
A nurse looked over and ran over with a gurney.
"What the he'll happened here?" Webber asked.
"He fell," I said.
"Well why was he-Bring that gurney over here now!" Webber yelled.
I looked down at Mr.Obrien and heard him groan.
"Mr.O'Brien?" I asked.
"I told you. These things always happen to me," he said.
"Are you okay?" I asked him, as the nurse brought over the gurney.
"I think I hit my head," he said, as Webber and I helped him up.
I looked up and noticed a leak in the ceiling, "You should probably get that looked at," I told Webber.
Webber narrowed his eyes at me.
"Sorry, uh just-Never mind," I smiled.
"You're going to be okay," Webber told him "And I'm very, very sorry. Get him a C.T. and I want hourly updates on his condition."
"Yes, sir," I nodded.
"You're going to be okay," Webber told him, as wheeled him off down to his C.T.
"How are you doing?" I asked Mr.O'Brien through the intercom in the C.T.
"It could be worse. I could have brain leaking from my ears," He said.
"That's the spirit," I smiled, "It'll only take a couple more minutes."
"How's he doing? Think we're looking at a lawsuit?" Webber asked me.
"Uh, there's not a clear picture yet, but I don't think so. He doesn't seem like the guy," I shook my head.
"Let's hope you're right," Webber said.
All of the sudden the machine started to crackle and sparks started to fly out of the machine.
"Uh, chief?" I looked over to him.
The machine thudded then everything went black.
"Hello? Hello?" Mr.O'Brien said.
The two of us ran into the room, and pulled him out of the machine, and loaded him onto a wheelchair.
"I cannot apologize enough," Dr.Webber said, "Dixon, you treat him like a king. You hear that, Mr.O'Brien? Dr.Dixon is gonna take great care of you. You're our number one priority today."
"Are you okay?" I asked him, as a couple of nurses wheeled in a bed.
"God hates me. My wife left me. My accountant stole from me. The store I worked at burned down," Mr.O'Brien said, as we helped him onto the bed, "I have an aneurysm that requires surgery in a hospital that seems to be crumbling around me. God hates me."
"Mr.O'Brien," I said, as we wheeled him out of the room and down the hall, "God doesn't hate you. You may have been having a few bad things happen, but that doesn't mean God hates you. Bad things happen to people sometimes, but that's normal."
"What's happening to me isn't normal," He sighed.
"Bad things happen to people, don't let it get to you. I'm sure you've got some good things going for you," I told him.
"Well, I guess you're right."
••
"George! George! Over here!" Lexie waved down George, "How'd it go? How'd your test go?"
George sat down and laid his head on the table, "There's a water problem, and I mean, I'm just trying to help the chief even though all the medical facts are falling out my ear."
"Oh I forgot, your test was today. I'm so busy with that stupid bad luck patient."You know my patient with the aneurysm? He slipped on water, hit his head, then got stuck in the C.T. machine. Literally stuck in it," I said, poking at my food.
"My patient's dying. I hate it when I like them and they're dying," Meredith said, poking at her food.
"Our guy's been living in pain. Pain at a constant eight, for the last seven years, because of an inflamed nerve in his nose. That's crazy," Lexie said.
"I wish I had an inflamed nerve in my nose," George frowned.
"There's no way that that guy has been living at an eight. He's a wimp. His eight. My three. I can take pain," Cristina shrugged.
"You can't talk to my boyfriend for ten minutes," Meredith pointed out.
"Well there's pain and then there's torture," Cristina said, "And I can take pain. Seriously, test me."
Alex reached across the table and grabbed Cristina's arm then slapped it, causing Meredith to gasp.
"Nothing," Cristina said.
"Impressive," I nodded.
"Shut up!" George lifted his head from the table, "You barely touched her."
Alex reached over and grabbed George's arm and slapped him.
"Ow!" He yelled.
"Uh how'd you diagnose that nerve? Cause I've uh never even heard of that condition?" Cristina asked Lexie, ignoring the fact, George was practically dying on the other side of her.
"I remembered an article from the British Journal of E.N.T., and it was issue number 47, page 19 from 1964. Photographic memory."
"Dude, a Lexopedia," Alex laughed.
"I hate you," George told Lexie.
••
"Hey! Hey!" Izzie yelled, at Cristina, Meredith, Alex and I, who were all in the elevator.
I reached a hand out and stopped the door from closing.
"Apparently, there's some kind of leak, nd the chief wants meets me to move all the pre-op patients to the clinic. So who is free to help me? Ow!" Izzie yelled as Alex slapped her arm.
The four of us laughed, as Izzie slapped Alex back.
"Not a high pain threshold, huh?" Alex asked.
"You know what, you should kick Alex out," Izzie told Meredith.
"She likes me more," Alex said.
"I bake. I clean. All you bring to the house is filth. What would you prefer Meredith a chocolate cake or an STD?" Izzie asked.
I walked over to the doors and got ready to walk out as the opened but stopped when, a bunch of water filled the elevator, "Water! Water!"
"Whoa!" Izzie yelled.
"Get out! Get out!" Cristina yelled.
The five of us quickly ran out of the elevator.
"Oh god, it's everywhere! What happened? What's happening?" Izzie asked.
"Come on! Keep moving!" Alex barked.
"Somebody get the chief," Cristina said.
"So some leak?" I asked Izzie.
••
"I'm not gonna have surgery. It'll just hurt. She's just gonna slice me open and kill me. If she doesn't kill me, it'll just hurt like hell," Mr.O'Brien sighed, "Probably get infected, and hurt worse. I'm not doing it."
"Mr.O'Brien, I know that you're scared, but you need this surgery if you want to stay alive," I told him.
"If I want to stay alive? Have you been paying any attention?" He asked.
"Look, you must have something to live for? Or the possibility of something to live for?" I asked him.
"There's this girl at the grocery store, I keep meaning to say hello. Instead I just keep asking her about the produce."
"Alright! That's something," I nodded, "Chances are your luck's gonna turn around. It's uh science. It's the law of averages. It's gonna turn around and when it does, you say hello."
"Say hello," He nodded.
"Say hello," I said.
••
"You can open up that retractor a little more," Hahn told me, "If you wanna get a better look. Just make sure you keep the small bowel inside. We want to avoid a post-op ileus."
"Yeah, we do. This guy thinks he has a dark cloud following him around," I said.
"Well that sounds overly dramatic," Hahn said, "What's that?"
"What the hell?" I looked up and saw the ceiling was leaking.
Bailey tapped on the glass and tried to tell us something but we couldn't hear what she was trying to say.
"What?" I asked.
One of the scrub nurses gasped, as a small chunk of the ceiling fell down on the equipment.
I heard metal crack, and looked up to see the ceiling start to burst.
"Shit," I swore before quickly laying over Mr.O'Brien's body.
"Oh my god," Hahn yelled, as I felt a bunch of water and ceiling fall down on us.
Once it was safe, Hahn and I both looked up.
"Is everyone okay?" She asked, "How's our patient?"
"He's stable. Vitals are holding steady," A nurse answered.
"All right, irrigation please," Hahn said.
"How can I help?" Bailey asked, adjusting her scrub cap.
"Go find the chief and tell him what happened," Hahn instructed Bailey.
"We need a new OR," Hahn said.
"They shut down all the others except this one and Dr.Sloan's," A nurse said.
"Okay, Dixon go find Sloan. He just started, maybe he can close," Hahn told me.
"What do I tell Dr.Sloan?" I asked.
"Just tell him the damn sky is falling!" Hahn yelled.
"Right," I said before I ran out of the OR and down to Mark's.
"We need the OR. The fucking ceiling collapsed in our OR, and we need the OR. Now," I said.
••
"Anybody see any more damage, any bleeding?" Hahn asked.
"No, no bleeding," Derek said, "I just cleared the lower left quadrant."
"Give me the pulse irrigator," Mark said.
"Uh Dr.Hahn? Take a look, the pancreas. Is that damage from the debris?" I asked.
"No, no," She shook her head, "That's a tumor."
"Well, shit," I said.
••
"Hey, I'm alive," Mr.O'Brien said.
"You're right. Dr.Hahn's gonna come in and talk to you in a few minutes," I told him.
"So, how'd it go? Okay?" He asked.
"Actually, not okay. The flood weakened the ceiling in the OR and it collapsed, and several fragments landed in your incision," I told him.
"Oh," He said, not seeming to be shocked.
"Because of that, we had to explore your abdomen more thoroughly then we normally would have, and we found a malignant tumor on your pancreas," I told him.
"Cancer? You found cancer?" He laughed.
"But we took it," I smiled, "And we sent it to pathology and it's only stage one."
"Only stage one," he laughed.
"We never find pancreatic tumors so early," I shook my head, "When we find them, it usually means you're dying. But in your case, we took the whole thing out."
His laughing started to stop.
"You don't need chemo or anything. The ceiling collapse saved your life. You're really lucky. Your luck has turned," I said.
"I'm gonna say hello, to that girl. I'm gonna say hello," He smiled.
••
"Joe's?" Meredith asked me.
"Yes," I nodded, joining her and Cristina, "The ceiling collapsed in the O.R. I need a drink."
"What?" Meredith asked.
I nodded, "Yeah it collapsed all over our patient and-"
"Run!" Cristina said, grabbing Meredith's and my arm, and turning us around before dragging us down the hall.
"What?" Meredith asked when she stopped and pulled us against the wall.
"That was Owen. Major Owen Hunt," Cristina said, "You know, the guy who pulled the icicle out of my chest."
"I thought he was in Iraq?" Meredith asked.
"He was. Now he's here. In my hospital," Cristina sighed.
"Okay so?" Meredith shook her head.
"Well we kissed, well he kissed me," Cristina said.
"Oh Cristina," I smirked.
"No. Don't make that face. Don't do that," She shook her head.
"Cristina he likes you. He came to the hospital just for you," I said.
"I know he likes me, and he's back. What is he doing back?"
"You don't think he quit the military for you? That would be a little stalkerish, but also very romantic," Meredith said.
"No. I am not getting involved with another attending," Cristina shook her head.
"Oh come on Cristina. He's cute and he really likes you. Also he quit the military for you," I said.
Cristina sighed and ignored me, "Coast clear?"
Meredith shuffled against the wall before turning to look down the hall. She nodded and gave a thumbs up.
"We're still getting drinks right?" I asked.
"This definitely means we're getting drinks," Cristina said.