I call her, alright. I call my mother, once a week. I haven't to...
I call her, alright. I call my mother, once a week. I haven't told her I'm back, she thinks I'm calling from ... I keep the conversation short because I can't bear for her to know that the son she sent off to war is gone. He's gone. And if I just got in my car and drove the six miles to see her, she'd be so ... sad. And she would look at me in the same way Beth does, now. Like I'm not there. The only time I don't feel like a ghost is when you look at me, because when you look at me, you see me. You see me. This is me. This is me. Please, Cristina, see me. See me.Owen (to Cristina)
Lexie: Wait, what's the prize?
Chief: You get to scrub in on Shepherd's craniotomy.
Chief: And hold the doomsday sucker.
Lexie: What's the doomsday sucker?
Izzie: Doomsday sucker?
Chief: It's just a really big sucker.
- Permalink: Wait, what's the prize? You get to scrub in on Shepherd's cran...
Every patient's story starts the same way. It starts with them being fine, it starts in the before. They cling to this moment, this memory of being fine, this before, as though talking about it may somehow bring it back. But what they don't realize is that they're talking about it to us, their doctors and that means there's no going back. By the time they see us, they're already in the after. And while every patient's story starts the same way, how the story ends depends on us, on how well we diagnose and treat. We know the story hinges on us and we all want to be the hero.Meredith (narrating)
- Permalink: Every patient's story starts the same way. It starts with them b...