CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREEMELONIE'S POV

   I honestly thought yesterday was a dream. Never in a million years would I have saw that coming. Jackson proposed to me. And I said yes. It seemed so unreal. It seemed like a dream that I never wanted to end. I still feel like I'm dreaming. Every time I looked at that beautiful diamond ring on my finger, I couldn't help but smile.

   I walked into the trauma area of the hospital, immediately bumping into Jo, since I wasn't paying attention, I was just looking at my ring. 

   "Hey, I'm on your service today..." her voice trailed off as she saw my ring. "Oh my God! Congratulations!" She touched my arm and hugged me.

   "Thank you," I smiled.

   "When did this happen?" Jo asked me, adjusting her grip on the charts in her arms. 

   "Last night," I beamed, staring at the ring. 

   "I'm so happy for you," she smiled. "Jackson?"

   "Yeah."

   "Oh my God, if you two choose to have children, those are going to be some good looking babies," she laughed, which made me laugh as well.

   "Thanks, Jo," I smiled at her.

   Suddenly, I saw Cristina walk past me. She was wearing her dark blue scrubs and her hair was in a messy low bun. 

   "Cristina!" I screamed, running to hug her. "What are you doing here?"

   "Since when do you hug people?" Cristina shuttered.

   "Answer my question first."

   "The hospital I was working was a crap bucket," she replied. "The way they did surgeries was really weird, and the whole thing was just stupid, so... here I am."

   "Well, we've missed you," I smiled. "Did Meredith tell you the news?"

   "News?" 

   I held up my hand and she immediately saw the ring. 

   "Oh my God, congratulations!" she smiled. Her pager went off and she looked at it. "I have to go, but I'm happy for you." She ran off.

   I grabbed my charts and headed toward the E.R. for my first patient, a man with a grey hair and a grey beard. He kind of reminded me of Santa. 

   "Hi, Albert. I'm Dr. Grey, I'll be your doctor today," I greeted him with a friendly smile. I closed the curtains and sat on a stool next to his bed, checking breath sounds and heartbeats, and I checked his alcohol level. "What seems to be the problem?"

   "I've been vomiting non-stop for a few weeks and-"

   He stopped talking when he projectile vomited all over me. I tried not to puke from the smell and the warm feeling on my scrubs. 

   "Um, I have to go change," I told him. "I'll be back."

   I walked out of the E.R. and up to the attending's lounge. Every time someone passed me, they would look at me funny and plug their nose.

   "Oh my God, you stink," Alex cringed when I came in, sitting next to April.

   "Vomit," I sighed. "Santa came to town."

   "What?" April asked.

   I slipped off my scrub top and put on a new one. "Long story."

   I ran back down to the E.R., entering Albert's room again, keeping my distance this time, but that wouldn't last long because I still had to do checkups on him.

   I closed the curtains to his bed and snapped on some gloves, taking a fluid bag from the cart that I had brought in earlier.

   "I'm sorry I messed you up like that, hon," he coughed. "I start puking like this, it doesn't stop for days."

   "Well, I'm gonna give you some fluids to counteract the alcohol in your system," I told him, sitting down next to his bed again.

   "I don't have any alcohol in my system," he responded.

   "Mhm. Last time you threw up on me, your alcohol level was .21." I raised my eyebrows at him, taking the IV supplies in my hands.

   "It does take the pain down a notch," he shrugged. "But I-I swear to you, hon," he touched my arm and I looked at him, "I ain't been drinking nothing. I mean, I don't know what's wrong with me. My stomach hurts so bad, and I get so nauseous, I just wish I could die." He tightened his grip on my arm. "Please... y-you got to help me."

   "Well, let's figure it out then." I stood up after hooking him up to the IV, but he was still holding onto my arm. 

   Before I could step away, once again, he vomited all over my top.

   "Okay," I shuttered.

   I grabbed a towel from the cart and walked away from Albert's bed. I wiped my shirt as I walked down the hall, and Alex walked by.

   "I thought you changed your shirt." He plugged his nose. "You reek."

   "Thank you, Alex," I gave him a cheesy smile before walking away.

   After changing my scrub top again, I walked over to the pharmacy to pick up Santa Claus's files, when Leah Murphy, another intern, walked up to me.

   "You dated Karev, right?" she asked me.

   "Yeah..." I gave her a funny look. "Why?"

   "Well, I slept with him and things were really heating up, and then suddenly, he stops returning my texts," she responded. "Do you think it's something I did? He barely talks to me, and I can't figure out what happened."

   "What happened is, he's a guy," I responded.

   "So you think we're done?" Leah looked at me.

   "You should be."

   "Yeah, but does he-"

   "Leah, stop."

   "Labs for... Santa Claus?" the pharmacist interrupted our conversation.

   "Yeah, that's mine." I took it from him, then I turned back to Leah. "Look, I hate to break it to you, but Karev likes to sleep with people and take advantage of them. I was a rare one because we actually had a committed relationship, but then he cheated. Trust me, he's not worth your time. Go out and find a guy who really cares about you, because that's what you deserve." I started looking through the folder. "What about Shane? He's nice."

   "Yeah, he is. I wish I liked nice," she sighed.

   I looked at her. "Yeah, well then you picked the right guy. Karev's mean."

   "And thoughtless. And a douche," Leah added.

   "And there's nothing wrong with him at all." I looked through the file.

   "Karev?" Leah lifted her head.

   "Santa." I rolled my eyes, walking away from her.

   That was weird. I never have conversations like that with interns, or with anyone really. I walked back to the front desk to fill in Santa's charts.

   "Grey, what's the status on our frequent flyer?" Owen walked up to me.

   "Santa?" I asked him.

   "Mhm."

   "I don't know," I sighed. "He wasn't lying. His labs came back negative for drugs and alcohol. He's dehydrated, but otherwise, his chem panel's good, his blood sugar's surprisingly good."

   "Treat him and street him," he instructed.

   "I'm sorry?" I gave him a confused look.

   "Santa Claus has been coming here for years. Same symptoms-always drunk, always nauseous," he shrugged. "We always run multiple tests, and they're always negative. He's looking for drugs." He looked back down, writing something on a clipboard. "Give him some antiemetics, give him some food, and send him on his way."

   "I just feel like there's more to this-"

   "Grey, I know you want to help, but you're an attending and your skills are needed elsewhere, and we need that bed," Owen interrupted me. "Discharge him, please."

   I sighed and took his chart. I walked back to his bed and hesitantly opened the curtain to see him lying down.

   "Hey," I breathed. "It looks like there's nothing wrong with you."

   "You guys always say that," he groaned.

   "There's nothing more we can do," I sighed, giving him a sympathetic look.

   "So I have to leave?"

   I hesitantly said, "Yeah."

   I looked down and noticed he was shaking and slightly moving the bed. He was kind of rocking back and forth.

   "You got a blanket I can take with me?" he asked. "I-I'm freezing to death."

   I looked at him and hesitated before I closed the curtain to check his breath sounds again.

~

   "Grey, why did you order an abdominal C.T. on Santa Claus when you discharged him an hour ago?" Owen asked, approaching me as I worked on Santa.

   "Because I didn't discharge him," I sighed.

   "W-Well, where is he?" he questioned.

   "He's right here." I pointed to a new and improved Santa Claus. We had shaved his beard and cut his hair to make him more presentable.

   "Hey there," Albert said.

   "Hey." Owen gave him a weird face. "Excuse us." He pulled me away. "You gave him a C.T. and an extreme makeover? You're here to do surgery."

   "I cleaned him up a little," I corrected him. "Because poor people don't get good medical care, or dirty people or smelly people. And if he'd come in in a good suit and some cologne, we'd all be busting our asses for him instead of accusing him of scamming drugs. I thought, if his scans show he needs a consult, maybe like this, his next doctor won't blow him off."

   Owen looked at me and sighed. "Okay, the C.T.'s been done. Wait for the results. If they're negative, you send him on his way. Immediately, okay?"

   I smiled. "Thank you."

   He walked away and I did my own little happy dance, and then I got his scan results. I sighed and walked back to his bed, aggressively opening his curtain.

   "Your scans came back completely clean," I told him, clearly irritated. "I need you to be honest with me, please. Did you come in here looking for drugs?"

   Albert sighed. "Yeah, I did. Can you help me out with that?"

   I stormed over to his bed side and took down the rails on the bed.

   "Okay. Get up. Get dressed," I demanded.

   "Can I just get an aspirin or something?" he asked. "I mean, anything."

   "Aspirin?" I smirked. "You want an aspirin?"

   "Y-Yeah, I get these headaches like m-my head's been run over by a truck or something," he told me, and I looked at him. "And the whole world, it gets louder and brighter, and I-I just can't move."

   I leaned over, getting closer to him. "Migraines. You get migraines? Why didn't you just say so?"

   "I tried to. I was going to, but-" He stopped talking, and his eyes were open, but they weren't looking at me anymore.

   I put my hands on his shoulders, gently shaking them. "What? What is it?"

   I thought he was having a stroke or something, but he threw up all over me, for the third time today. You've got to be kidding me...

   I walked away, wiping my shirt again. Once again, I walked past Alex.

   "Oh my God, change your clothes!" he yelled.

   "Alex, I have changed my clothes three times today, okay? I have been repeatedly puked on by a patient who pukes all day, despite the fact that I can't find anything wrong with him except extreme nausea and migraines," I snapped at him. "Also, call Leah, for God's sake. She is unbearable. Let her know if you're done or bored or whatever, because trying to figure it out is gonna drive her crazy." I started to walk away, but I stopped. "Also, stop sleeping with interns."

~

Word Count: 1888