CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER ELEVENMELONIE'S POV

   My alarm went off at 5:30am the next morning. I went to put my arm around Alex, but my arm just hit a pillow next to me instead. I looked around the room, but my boyfriend was no where to be found. Maybe he was called to work early.

   I took a quick shower before heading down for breakfast. Mer, Derek, Jackson, and Lexie were sitting in the kitchen. 

   "Where's April?" I asked, sitting down next to Lexie and taking an apple from the fruit bowl.

   "I don't know. Maybe she's not awake yet," Lexie shrugged. 

   "She's gonna be late for work," I realized. "I'll wake her up."

   I walked back up the stairs to April's room, and knocked on the door before entering without waiting for a response. 

   "Hey, Ap-" I stopped.

   The sight I saw before me was what made my heart break into a million pieces. I saw Alex laying on top of April. They were making out, but both were fully clothed, thank God. 

   They both looked at me with wide eyes.

   "Melonie-" April tried, but I walked out, slamming the door behind me.

   I ran down the stairs, grabbed my keys, and ran out the door, and into my car. My eyes were starting to fill with tears as I pulled out of the driveway and saw Alex run out, but he was too late because I was already gone. I just wanted to go to work and do what I love.

   As soon as I got to the hospital, I walked in and wiped the tears from my eyes. Callie walked over to me. 

   "Hey, so-" She stopped and looked at me. "Have you been crying?"

   "N-no, I'm fine," I lied, wiping the rest of my tears. "What do you need?"

   "U-um..." She shook her head, as if she was shaking thoughts away. "Hurry up and get to trauma bay."

   I ran to the residents' lounge and got my scrubs on, then headed toward trauma bay, where Callie was waiting for me.

   She tied my gown and I snapped on my gloves, trying to get the image of Alex and April out of my head.

   "So, how are things with you and Alex?" Callie asked, trying to start conversation.

   "They're... good," I lied, for the second time this morning. 

   "Are you seriously not going to tell me why you were crying this morning?" she asked.

   "Look, I'm here to save lives, I'm not here for therapy," I replied. "Thank you for caring so much, but I'm fine."

   Before she could reply, the ambulance showed up. 

   "Trina Paiz, 27, stable. Only complaint is a lacerated ear. Pretty amazing considering she fell 100 feet into a ravine. Apparently, her husband broke her fall," the paramedic warned us as another ambulance came by and Owen and Miranda got it.

   "Jason!" Trina screamed to her husband that was on the other stretcher. "Is he okay?"

   "Grey, take her to trauma two," Callie instructed, so I did so.

   "Please. He has to be okay. He has to be okay," Trina whimpered.

   After checking her vitals, I took Trina to the exam room and got her some scans.

   "Okay, Trina, do you know where you are?" I asked her.

   "A hospital in S-Seattle," Trina stuttered. "I-I don't know the name. I'm not from here. I'm here on my honeymoon." She looked at me. "My God, my husband..."

   "Dr. Hunt and Dr. Torres are excellent, so he's in good hands," I reassured her. "Do you remember what happened?"

   "We were hiking up this mountain, and we wanted a picture, so we handed our camera to some guy, and... we posed... we kissed. No, we were kissing and then... the next thing I know, I'm looking up at the sky, and then we're on the ground or... Jason's on the ground, and I'm on top of him," she sniffled. "Please tell me he's not gonna die. He can't die."

   I nodded before leaving the room to check on the husband. I walked into his room to see a group of doctors working on him. 

   "Wife is stable. Nervous, but-" I started.

   "She should be. His abdomen is distended, and he has a lot of internal bleeding," Owen sighed.

   "Systolic's 60, Dr. Hunt," a doctor informed.

   "Pressure's dropping," a nurse said as the monitor started to beep rapidly.

   Everyone went into trauma mode to try and save this guy.

   "Let's get him to an O.R. now," Owen said, putting the rails up on the bed and we all rolled him out of the room.

   We got to the O.R. and I went to scrub my hands.

   "Grey, there's no time to scrub. Come on," he said, then went over to a doctor. "Gown me."

   As we were getting our gowns on, the doctors and nurses were lifting Jason onto the surgical table.

   "See if his type and cross is back yet," Owen instructed. "In the meantime, get me some F.F.P., and some factor vii up here."

   "Drape him," I instructed the nurses, who did as I told them to. "Good. Okay."

   Owen came over to the table. 

   "Let's go. 10-blade," Hunt requested and a nurse gave it to him. "I hope no one is wearing new shoes."

   "More laps," I requested.

   Suddenly, blood shot out of the body and all over me. 

   "Laps. Laps! More laps!" I screamed to the nurses.

   I looked and saw blood pouring onto the floor rapidly. I looked at Owen with worried eyes, but he was keeping himself calm and collected.

   "Grey, I can't see anything," Owen said, looking down into the body.

   "I'm suctioning," I told him. "There's too much blood."

   "Suction's too slow. Use your hands," he instructed. "Another suction. How's his pressure?"

   "79 over 40," a doctor replied.

   "He's like a bucket full of holes," Owen groaned. "I'm gonna occlude the aorta at the hiatus until we can get his pressure back up. How many units has he gotten?"

   "Three units of o-neg, one unit a-positive type specific, and one unit of F.F.P.," a nurse answered.

   "Okay, let's get some more packs in there," Owen said. "Let's try and isolate this bleeder until we figure out what we're dealing with."

   "Laps. More. Keep 'em coming. More!" I shouted, and they started handing them to me. "More. Quickly. Faster. I don't want to have to keep asking." I looked at the monitor. "His B.P. is still 70. With all these lap pads, it should be better by now."

   "His pelvis and his spleen look clean," Owen observed. "Has to be his liver. Try a Pringle Maneuver. Let's see if we can stop this bleeding."

   "Okay," I replied.

   I stuck my hands inside of the body, but nothing was happening. I looked at Owen and shook my head.

   "Damn it. Damn it. That's what I was afraid of," he muttered. "His vena cava is torn. You can let go."

   I took my hand out and he shoved his hand right back in, but harder than I did.

   "Dr. Hunt, what are we doing?" I asked.

   "This is a lethal injury," he pointed out.

   "He's on his honeymoon!" I argued.

   "Pressure's still dropping. 60 over 40," a doctor informed us.

   "Dr. Hunt, what do we do?" I asked him. He didn't answer. "Dr. Hunt. Dr. Hunt, what's your plan? You have to have a plan! We can't stand here and do nothing while this guy bleeds out! If you don't have a plan, then-"

   "Okay, 10-blade," he requested. "It's a long shot, but if we crack his chest, put in a shunt, and bypass the blood flow trying to get to the heart, it'll give us time to make the repair." He looked at me. "You don't get to talk to me like that in my O.R. If you can't keep your problems outside, then you should go." He looked back down. "Bone saw."

   I felt my eyes get watery, but I couldn't cry in the O.R. or I would definitely be kicked out. I just shook it off and continued to work. 

   The beeping of the machine finally went down and I sighed of relief. 

   "Good. The shunt is in. Secure it inferiorly," Owen instructed.

   "Umbilical tape," I requested.

   "Okay, now we're gonna fix the I.V.C.," Owen said. "I'm gonna lift the liver only enough for you to gain access to the tear."

   "You're gonna let me sew?" I asked him.

   "Are you questioning my judgement or are you saying thank you?"

   "No, I just... thank you."

   "Okay, good. So, one stitch at a time. Slow and steady," he guided me. "Ready?"

   "Okay. 3-0 Prolene, Boki," I said.

   "Dr. Hunt, I updated Mrs. Paiz and checked your calls." A nurse came in. "Dr. Marshall from N.Y.U. called about speaking at their conference, and the lab called with results for your kidney patient."

   "That's it?" Owen asked. "Nothing from my wife?"

   "No, that's it."

   "You ready?" He looked at me. "Lifting the liver. Good."

   "I think I can get another stitch in," I tried.

   "We can't risk it. There's too much pull on the liver. I'm lowering it," Owen shot down my idea.

   "I want to try," I fought.

   "No."

   "There's not as much blood in the field as before. He can handle another stitch." I went in to put the other stitch in.

   "Remove your hand, Dr. Grey," Owen demanded

   "Just another second."

   "Don't-"

   "Done!" I threw my hands up. "I got it. Lower the liver."

   "Get out of my O.R." Owen glared at me.

   "What? I did it." I looked down at Jason. "Look. See? He's fine."

   "I'm not gonna say it again," he said. "I don't know what's wrong with you today and I don't really care, but it's interfering with work and I don't like it. Get out."

   I just put my surgical instruments down and walked out of the O.R. I threw my gloves away and leaned against the wall in tears. 

   I walked through the halls and saw April walking toward me, so I walked the other way and into the residents' lounge. 

   I sat on the bench and put my head in my hands. I didn't want to do anything. I just wanted to sulk by myself. 

   "Bye," I heard someone laugh and walk in, closing the door.

   I saw Lexie come around the corner and she looked at me. I looked away, wiping my tears. She sat beside me. 

   "Are you okay?" she asked quietly.

   "Yeah." I wiped another tear.

   "You're lying," she said. I looked at her. "Now are you going to talk to me or am I going to sit here awkwardly?"

   "He cheated," I blurted out. "With a virgin."

   "Alex and April?" she asked, shocked, and I nodded. 

   I burst into tears as she pulled me closer to her, and I sobbed into her scrubs. Suddenly, the door opened. 

   "Melonie, I-" I heard Alex say.

   "Get out," Lexie scolded him. 

   "What?"

   "Get out!" Lexie shouted.

   The door closed as Alex left without saying another word. Lexie stroked my hair. 

   "You'll be okay," she whispered. 

~

Word Count: 1853