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Bailey: You've got end stage cirrhosis, and the only thing that can save your life is a transplant.
Lexie: How did it happen this fast?
Alex: He bathed it in Gin.
Lexie: Alex.
Thatcher: Your friends right. Except for the Gin. I was a scotch man. What's... what's the next step here? Can I get on a list?
Richard: Um, Thatcher, the transplant board has a rule here. An alcoholic has to be sober at least a year before he qualifies for a donor liver.
Thatcher: I'm only 90 days.
Lexie: I'll do it. I'll do it today. I'll go get tested right now.
Thatcher: Lexie.
Lexie: No, they just take a piece. My liver will regenerate.
Thatcher: I can't ask you to do something like that. It's major surgery.
Lexie: You're not asking. You're my dad. You want a kidney? I'll throw in one of those too.

Meredith: My dad's dead. At first I thought he was drunk, then he started puking blood. And, puking blood and disorientation usually means...
Derek: End stage liver failure.
Meredith: Which mean's he's probably dead by now. Or he needs a transplant, and I hope he's not a candidate. Because that means he'd be in the hospital for months.
Alex: Uh, Mer.
Meredith: He needs a transplant doesn't he?
Alex: Yeah.

Owen: Stevens, I have something for you if you're interested.
Cristina: Well I'm interested.
Owen: An MBC came in a while back during his work up I found an abdominal sarcoma. Since then I've been following his recurrences, and uh, he came back today with his 3rd one. Wondered if you could scrub in? If you feel ready.
Cristina: I'm ready!
Owen: He's in pre-op.
Cristina: You know I need a surgery.
Owen: You know I don't play favorites. Please have been afraid to work with Stevens. Like she's gonna break or something. It's not right. She's a good surgeon, and she has a way with patients. And, a light touch.
Cristina: You want nice? I can be nice too. I can be nice to a dying husk.
Owen: Yeah, not a light touch.

Cristina: Did I tell you how great your hair looks. It's all short and um, edgy.
Izzie: Why, you are really tweaking out. How long's it been since you've cut?
Cristina: Over a week.
Izzie: Ooh.

He made amends, he's not drunk.


Lexie: Meredith, his neighbor said that he wasn't getting his mail.
Meredith: Ugh.
Thatcher: I heard that you got married on a sticker. That's great.
Cristina: We should go so you can have family time.
Lexie: No, I don't . I don't know what's wrong with him.
Meredith: Did you pick him up off the floor of a bar Lexie? That might be a clue.
Thatcher: Uh, I'm not. I haven't been drinking I just... (Thatcher throws up blood)
Cristina: Now that could be surgical.

Izzie: What are you doing?
Cristina: Just making sure everything's running smoothly here. And... it is. Kudos.
Izzie: Oh, no, no, no, no. Ah uh! Oh, no! I am on Hunt's service. Anything that turns surgical down here is mine.
Cristina: You don't need the hours, you spent the last 6 months in the OR.
Izzie: Unconscious on a table. It does not count.

Cristina: I'm done, finished, expired meat.
Meredith: You're freaking out a little bit.
Cristina: Well, you haven't been kicked off 2 services in one month. I couldn't get into an OR if I was bleeding half to death. You got anything good?
Meredith: I'm scrubbing in on an optic glioma later on with Derek. I've never seen one.

Cristina: What have you got?
Steve: Um, diabetic ulcer.
Cristina: Down to the bone?
Steve: No.

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