- - -
almost half of this country doesn't go to the doctor when they should. many don't have access but a lot of others, they just don't want to because they don't believe anything is actually wrong.
- - -
"hey," meredith runs into her kitchen, where derek is sat reading a magazine.
"you know, one of the joys of cohabitation is having breakfast together," derek tells her as she takes a piece of toast from his plate before rushing to the fridge to grab her lunch.
"well, i can't today because bailey paged me in early," meredith explains.
"well, i guess you don't have time to look at our work in a major medical journal," derek smugly holds up the magazine he's reading, to reveal an image of his face on the cover.
"they finally published our clinical trial?" meredith gasps, grabbing the magazine from him. "it's on the cover. 'a new method in treating inoperable malignant gliomas- the shepherd method'."
"what do you think?" derek asks her.
"it's a picture, a big picture of you."
"you're making a face," derek points out meredith's current facial expression.
"i'm not making a face," meredith protests. "i love that picture. i have to go."
■ ■ ■
"'the shepherd method'. it's about time this hospital got some publicity," richard looks at the magazine with pride, showing it to bailey. "oh, i heard you found a donor."
"yes, sir," bailey confirms. "the last piece of the puzzle finally fell into place."
"this is the day, dr. bailey," richard tells her with confidence. "shepherd on the front page of a national journal, bragging rights to a flashy surgery- i don't see seattle pres taking on a project of this magnitude, do you?"
"i'd rather wait to celebrate 'til we this thing off," bailey turns to him.
"yeah, that's a good call. we don't want to jinx it," he nods before walking away.
"eat that, seattle pres," bailey grins once richard is out of sight.
■ ■ ■
"god, i've been looking everywhere for you," lia sighs when she opens the door to an on call room to find mark sat up on one of the beds, reading a magazine.
she closes the door behind her before walking over to him and taking a seat across from him on the end of the bed.
"well, i had an early morning palatoplasty," mark informs her, not taking his eyes off the magazine in front of him. "you see this? 'the shepherd method'?"
"yeah, yeah, very impressive," lia dismisses. "listen-"
"you think they airbrushed his picture?" mark cuts her off. "i mean, the man does not have one damn pore."
"could you focus?" lia snatches the magazine from his hands. "i need you right now."
"alright, well, i'm a little exhausted, but if you want to hop on and do all the work..." mark lifts the blanket that's covering him.
"no, i need to talk," lia throws the blanket back over him. "i've been thinking- if my dad and catherine get married, would that make jackson my brother? because that would then make me darci's aunty? like, i know i said i'm happy for them, and i am. but it's freaking me out."
"no, it does not," mark exhales deeply. "you are not related by blood, and you didn't grow up together."
"okay," lia sighs with relief, looking down at the magazine in her lap. "mer is not gonna like this."
■ ■ ■
"she was barely a third-year resident when we did this trial. i made the virus," derek tells mark, whilst looking out of the window, onto the hospital catwalk. his back is to mark who is busy looking on a computer.
"she assisted," mark agrees, but his tone is miserable. "when michael jordan scores, no one cares about the assist."
"i don't know. scottie pippen..." derek points out, turning around.
"you know what i mean," mark shrugs. "these women, they overthink everything. especially when they're pregnant."
"somebody's cranky today," derek observes, before looking at the screen in front of mark. "what is that? 'experimental treatments for cleft palates'."
"huh," mark furrows his brow.
"you're working on your own clinical trial, aren't you?" derek steps closer towards mark.
"i'm- i'm just- i'm doing a little research," mark dismisses.
"mm-hmm. see, the very sight of me reminds you that you've not made one worthwhile contribution to medical history, doesn't it?"
"get out," mark gestures to the door as derek takes a seat across from him.
"you should read my article," derek grins, smugly. "it will enrich your life, make you a better man."
"i'm saving it for the bathroom," mark says, and derek laughs.
■ ■ ■
lia walks into an on call room to find mark lying down, wallowing, on one of the beds.
"hey, did you hear somebody dropped a kidney?" lia tells him with amusement as she closes the door behind her.
"oh, for the love of god," mark groans, rolling over so his back is to her.
"what's wrong?" she asks softly, walking over to him, but he doesn't move or respond so she decides on taking a different approach. "i need you. i need you, mark."
"for another talk?" mark scoffs, craning his neck to turn and look at her.
"just because you didn't publish a big clinical trial- yet- doesn't mean you're not a genius," lia says suggestively.
mark exhales deeply before standing up from the bed so that he is stood directly in front of her.
"fine. take off your pants," he instructs as he removes his own scrub top. "i'll show you the sloan method. won't ever be in a medical journal, but it should."
- - -
most patients put off facing the truth for as long as possible. and we get it. we do it, too. we ignore things. we stay under the covers. we don't pick up the phone. we don't face the music and all that crap.
- - -
"ah, lia," derek calls when he steps off the elevator to find lia stood on her phone in the hospital lobby.
"congratulations," she smiles as he approaches. "must feel good to see your name in print like that."
"it would feel better if meredith wasn't so- you know, she's acting silly about the credit," derek sighs, and lia frowns. "she's getting emotional."
"she worked her ass off for you, and you got all the credit," lia points out.
"i would've gotten all the blame had we failed," derek argues. "like i was the one who got blacklisted when she messed up my alzheimer's trial. she's the reason it took three years for them to even publish this trial."
"but you didn't fail," lia reminds him. "and you know why she tampered with your trial."
"it's simple. i'm an attending. and at the time of the trial she was a third-year resident," derek shrugs.
"who is now a damn good attending that you're married to. that's not simple. it's messy," lia shakes her head. "if it were me, i'd start with 'thank you'. you'd be surprised how far that one goes, especially with us silly emotional women."
- - -
but the longer we hide, the worse it can be. so open the test results. have the hard conversation. say what you mean. good or bad. you may be surprised at what you find. and at the very least, you'll know what you're dealing with.
- - -