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Flash RP
M JacksonMiracle

(This one will have to do it for me for the night. I'll be back after work tomorrow! :) I did a lot of math on these stats, and I know it seems high, but if the internet's right, then it's plausible.)

Gabriel: *the night shift at Seattle Grace was always an adventure. One never knew exactly what would happen. They saw an average of 75 patients every night during the week, and on some weekends, that count could triple. They were, after all, the only level one trauma center in the entire state of Washington In the short 18 months he'd been here, and already he'd seen over 1500 births, 1200 deaths, 1000 GSWs, 2000 broken limbs, 500 amputations, 200 skulls impaled with foreign objects, and many, many other things that he tried very hard to forget. Tonight had been no different starting out with a bang when three GSWs were brought in together. He had helped where he could, but as soon as two of the three were wheeled off to surgery, he was forced to quickly change gloves and begin the intake process for the dozen or so less urgent patients waiting to be seen by a doctor. He would spend, on average, three times as long with each patient as the doctor would. The notes that he took while visiting with the patient would be critical in helping the doctor understand exactly what was going on and how to treat it. More often than not, he was also the one to provide that treatment. The doctor would tell him how much and what kind of drug to use, but he was the one to retrieve the drug and inject into the patient's IV. Sometimes there would be a few surgical interns around to help with things that were "below" the residents, but most of the time, he was the one doing the leg work while the doctors did the brain work. It was really rewarding work. He often got to know the patients on a level that went beyond what was medically important. He could tell you their favorite color, favorite rock band, even their chosen brand of detergent. It didn't matter what the conversation consisted of that he had with them when all the important medical stuff had been asked and answered. It only mattered that he was having a real, personable conversation with them to get their mind off the trauma that was happening all around them. He couldn't always talk for as long as he wanted to, but even 30 seconds seemed to make a small difference with most people. He finished intake and while he was waiting for a resident to see his patients and give him orders, he decided to offer his assistant to the intern who had been unfortunate enough to be left out of the surgeries taking place upstairs.* Would you like some help with that? Normally I'd be the one doing it anyway. And it may not hurt to have a second set of eyes just to make sure we don't reopen that femoral artery.

Rosalie: *almost half-way through the debriding process when a nurse approached to offer his help* Uh, yeah, sure, if you're not in the middle of something else. I know how busy nurses can stay during the night shift. This is actually really good practice for me, so I don't mind it, but it would go faster with a second pair of hands. Would you mind shinning that pin light a little more around here? *indicating the spot she was examining* That's good. Thank you. I think this one is all clean and I should be able to stitch it up and dress it now. Then we can move on to the other one.

Jasper: *still speechless as he watched first Dr. Austin, then Dr. Beaumont exit the room in a huff until it was just Dr. Summers, himself, and the Chief left behind. In spite of the screaming match between the two that was clearly of a personal nature that he had chosen not to get involved in, he was still riding a little bit of a high from the laparoscopic work Dr. Beaumont had allowed him to do during the surgery. It was honestly a thrill of epic proportions and well worth the toll it would take on him tomorrow when his sleep would be drastically shortened because of it. But as he offered the Chief a sheepish smile, he knew there was still one more thing to do before finally, actually leaving tonight.* That would actually be my fault, Sir. Dr. Austin ordered us to go ahead and leave, but when I saw the incoming trauma...I had to stay to help. It's not in my nature to just leave. I guess the others had the same inclination. I promise we'll abide by hospital recommendations and stick as close to the 45 hour mark as we can. Not including charting and independent research. *he added the last bit silently to himself, knowing that it would be impossible to complete rounds, assist in surgery and still get charting done in nine hours a day.*

Garrett: *nodding in acceptance of the suggestions that Dr. Austin put forward* Ok, consider it done. Dr. Black, I'm going to insert the first pin, and I want you to watch very, very closely as I do so. Then, I want you to take care of placing the rest of them. I'll be watching, so feel free to ask questions. Just make sure you get it right. The last thing we need is his bones fusing together incorrectly because you failed to line them up right. Go slow, be calculated. If it doesn't work the first time, try something else. *after several tense minutes of watching Dr. Black place the pins along the metatarsal bones, it was finally time to add the last line of sutures along the top of the toe and close.* Dr. Brandon, please do the honors of bringing us home, nice, straight stitches to minimize scarring. *he was still watching Dr. Brandon closely to make sure she was confident and competent in what she was doing, but her words were directed to Dr. Austin* You know, Peter, I think these interns may just make it after all. Now if you and Dr. Beaumont can just find a way to keep the past in the past and move forward as coworkers instead of former lovers, I'd say this hospital could run pretty efficiently.

4/3/2019 #1,051 Report
A Ambivalentanarchist

(Good luck with your early day tomorrow! Don't worry about the statistics, I trust that you did your research. ;) )

Carlisle: *giving the other man a firm look* See that you do. *raising his hand to dismiss them, but then pausing for a moment before he did so* I didn't explain this in my presentation, and I hoped that I wouldn't have to, that it would be self-explanatory, but the hospital board has it's reasons for reducing the number of hours our interns work. The intent isn't to take away valuable teaching time; in fact, I have devoted a great deal of my time to ensuring that every intern gets to spend time in each surgical department, working with residents to devise daily plans that will allow you each to get the most out of your experiences here. I want you to sleep and eat and take a minute off your feet so your mind can actually take in the information that you're being exposed to… *a longer pause, his brow furrowing, as he clearly wrestled with revealing some further information* The fact is, interns are fully fledged doctors. In emergent situations, especially as their intern year comes close to an end, they may find themselves treating patients who need life-saving care all by themselves, without assistance, without observation. I want you all to be sharp if that time ever comes. I don't want your hands to shake so badly that you do more damage to your patients than good. I don't want you to have a breakdown in the middle of surgery, and become completely useless to the people around you. I don't want you to start prescribing each other medication that leaves your judgement impaired just so you can get through the day. Before I became the Chief of Surgery at Seattle Grace, at least one of those things happened to an intern every year, and it was considered normal. Because people crack under that kind of pressure, especially people who are new to being doctors. I don't want that for any of you. Are we clear?

Robyn: Yes, sir. Of course, sir. *swallowing around the dry lump in her throat as the Chief finally let them go, walking side-by-side with Dr. Whitlock in a half-numb sort of state towards the exit, pausing outside, as the cold evening air hit her* What was more crazy, watching two attendings rip each other to shreds over personal drama, me fixturing a reannactor's hip back together, or the Chief giving us a real-life motivational speech? *a strange laugh bubbling up in her throat* I honestly can't tell. Is this what sleep deprivation feels like? What time is it? *bursting into honest-to-God schoolgirl giggles when she looked at her wrist. It was near midnight, which meant she had been up a good twenty hours, but that wasn't the funniest part* I'm still wearing the scrub top I stole!

Peter: *shooting a heated glare in Garrett's direction, but keeping his voice low as he returned to watching Dr. Brandon execute a perfect running subcuticular suture across the split skin* With respect, Turner, I don't know if you have any stones to throw there. I remember that efficiency and professionalism weren't all that important when a certain psych intern ended up running down to your wing for a consult. It didn't seem to matter much to you that she was your co-worker, not to mention the daughter of not one, but two other doctors here. She turned you down over and over again, for a year, until you made an ass of yourself letting her electrocute you for that clinical trial that you didn't even qualify for. And, now you're engaged. When it's love, it's love. Charlotte is… she's my soulmate. I can't just let her go. Maybe I took it at face value when she said she wanted the life her parents had, but one mistake shouldn't erase everything we had. It didn't for me. And… say what you will, but I've know Char for years. I don't think it has for her, either. She wouldn't be so angry if she didn't care. *a long suffering sigh flowing out of him as he watched Dr. Brandon begin the process of bandaging the wound, lingering as she and Dr. Black left to scrub out* I left my men behind, for her. They all reenlisted, the entire squad. But, not me. I stayed, not because I don't think I should be over there. If anyone could use a good medic, it's the army. But; no. No… I finally realized that couldn't live with myself if I lost the most important thing to me, even if it was over doing the right thing. If, God forbid, I do ever move on? It won't be here. *nudging the other man, shoulder-to-shoulder* Luckily for you, I don't plan on giving up anytime soon. I don't know what you'd do with another ortho guy.

Alice: *letting out a long breath as they scrubbed their hands, then made their way out into the corridor* So… about that drink?

4/3/2019 #1,052 Report
A Ambivalentanarchist

( I had a fun thought this morning. So, if this were the first episode of a television show, it couldn't be called "Grey's Anatomy" or similar. There isn't really one central character, like in Grey's. So, I thought instead it might be called "Seattle's Grace." :) It's a play on the name, but also, as the best hospital in the area, it's kind of the saving grace of Seattle.)

4/4/2019 . Edited 4/4/2019 #1,053 Report
M JacksonMiracle

(I love the name "Seattle's Grace"! It's so perfect! :) Did you know that there's actually four stages of board exams before a doctor is actually considered to be fully board certified in any field?)

Jasper: *Listening carefully to the Chief's words and nodding his head in understanding, taking the wisdom to heart. One of the first things he was taught in med school is that the human body can only take so much. It can only bear so much weight, be deprived of oxygen for so long, lose a heartbeat for so long. It can only survive with so many organs removed, live for so long with an impaired organ, stay strong after being exposed to so much radiation, give birth to so many children. Everything about the human body had a limit to it. And that included surgeons. If you don't take care of yourself, you can't possibly take care of someone else. He understood the theory behind the sentiment. But human bodies could also be trained to live on the edge between just enough and too much. Runners, weight lifters, gymnasts, every athlete imaginable pushes their body to extremes. Police officers, fire fighters, and doctors are the first responders that ordinary people rely on every day to protect them and heal them. They could sometimes feel like superheroes, and that mentality often led them to push the limits of their body, to live on the edge like an athlete. But athletes, especially those who start training early in life, are usually falling apart physically by the time they hit 30, and doctors can't afford to fall apart too quickly, before their career in medicine has even had a chance to begin. He followed Robyn through the now very quiet hospital corridors and back to the door where their night shift adventure had begun, smiling as she listed off the each piece of drama from the past few hours* Oh, the surgery for sure. No contest. The rest of it was just icing on the cake. But the surgery, that was the cake. *chuckling a little as he looked over at his cohort's scrub top* Just bring it back tomorrow and dump it in the laundry then. I'm sure they'll forgive you. That is if they even notice. You know for as late as it is, I went from being completely exhausted a few hours ago to being totally energized. I'll probably pay for it tomorrow, but it'll be worth it. Nothing a little coke and red bull can't cure at least. And before you say it, drinking red bull was the only way I made it through med school. I'm so use to the elevated doses of caffeine by now that it doesn't affect me at all. Steady as a rock. *giving her a quizzical look when she just continued to laugh* You can't tell me you've never experienced the "giddy" stage of sleep deprivation before. Did you never pull an all nighter in college? I've been doing it since undergrad. The trick is to take a break before the giddiness hits. Do some cardio, drink some red bull and get right back to it. I probably averaged five hours of sleep every night the week before the USMLE. I got a full ten hours the night right before, but leading up to it was something else. Come to think of it, I did it both times, second year and fourth year. *leading her over to his truck* This is it. Old Man McCarty called her Big Bertha. I just call her my ride. *Unlocking the passenger side door by turning the car key in the lock on the handle, the now very old fashioned way, and opening the door for Robyn to climb inside before walking around the truck to his own side and again unlocking the door using the key in the lock on the handle.* I know she's old, no key fobs, crank windows and all that, but she gets me where I need to go. And it really helps that he sold her to me for a dollar when he upgraded last year. I could finally stop taking the bus to school.

Garrett: *turning to look Peter in the eye as they both scrubbed out* Look, I don't deny that you still love her. I just think that you need to leave her alone for a bit. Let her get use to you just being around again without the pressure of a relationship. You were friends before you dated, right? I know all the theories about not being able to go back to friendship and all that, but there was something there at one point. Just ease off on her, give her time to remember those little things that caused her to fall in love the first time. Right now, all she sees is the Captain. A Captain who says he loves her but took another woman to bed. I get that you were lonely, I do. But there's help for loneliness that doesn't involve another woman. Or man for that matter. Just yourself. I know it's not the same, but it'll give her a chance to learn to trust you again. *stopping the other doctor before he could protest* And do not compare this to me and Kate again. Yes, I was very stupid at times as I pursued her. I acknowledge that. But, and here's the big thing, I wasn't trying to win her back. I was just trying to win her for the first time. And once I got her, I never lost her. I'm saying all this because I care. Ortho guys and general gals are a dime a dozen, but you two, you tolerate my quirks in a way I doubt anyone else would. And I do not want to have to train another newbie on how to deal with the masterpiece that is Dr. Turner. *pulling off his custom surgical cap with hot air balloons on it and carefully folding it and putting it away before checking to see if he had any missed pages* Well, that's a good sign. The blonde one obviously figured out everything on her own. Either that or she royally messed it up and was too afraid to admit it.

Jacob: *shaking his head in denial* I wish I could, but I think it's a little past happy hour now. *checking the time on his watch* It's actually approaching the witching hour now. If I start drinking now, you'll have to hook me up to a banana bag before rounds in the morning. I tend to need much more time than what we have for alcohol to work its way out of my system enough to avoid any kind of hangover. However, if you'd like, I do know a great 24 hour diner, we can grab a sandwich or a slice of pie to refill our calories and hold us until breakfast. *his stomach growling right on cue. After all, he had eaten lunch from a vending machine and that had been nearly 12 hours ago now.*

4/4/2019 #1,054 Report
A Ambivalentanarchist

(I'm glad you like it! I did not know that, but I do know that board certification is a huge deal... I just googled it and oh my goodness so many different boards. :O)

Robyn: *her hysterical laughter fading to a small smile as she settled into the too-tall seat, buckling her seatbelt, leaning back into the old leather and worn cushions* Oh, this makes me miss my bug; It didn't have a cool name or anything, but I had this really… well, honestly piece of junk Volkswagen bug from the nineties. It had this terrible, faded yellow paint job that was peeling along the hood, and I never fixed it, even though I should have. I was always pouring money into the engine, but no matter what I did, it still wouldn't start half the time, second gear always stuck, and the A/C never once blew cool air. Oh, and I think the rear bumper fell off about five… no it was four times. But, it was mine, you know? It broke down just outside of Portland, and I just… couldn't get it up and running again. Had to sell it to a junker. *shrugging her shoulders a little, more sober now than before* Sorry. When I'm sleep deprived I'm usually not like this. Not that I actually know why I'm apologizing; I'm usually a terror when I don't get at least six hours. Like, a "Hurricane Robyn" kind of terror. Maybe it was just all the—deja vu—excitement. *tilting her head back and resting her eyes for a moment as he started the car, a rough rumble slowly turning into a relatively steady purr as Dr. Whitlock put the truck into drive. As he headed towards the exit, she relayed the directions to her apartment building* I would make a joke about it being the only one with paper lanterns out front, but it is definitely, definitely not. *pointing out a few places that she had tried to eat in the few weeks since she'd arrived, especially the rare Pad Thai and Pho restaurants among a sea of classic Chinese ones* They have the best egg rolls I've ever had, and I have eaten a lot of egg rolls over the years. *circling back to the subject of sleep deprivation* But, honestly, I didn't get through med school by cramming. It was never a great strategy for me. If I tried to pull and all-nighter to study, it would all be poof gone in the morning. So, instead I just studied every waking minute of every day. I actually started two fires because I was studying while trying to cook on a hot plate. After my roommates banned me from cooking, don't you dare laugh, I laminated my study guides so I could better utilize my time in the shower. You're laughing? How dare you sir, I am a medical professional. *breaking, and laughing along with him*

Peter: You know, I was wondering why you didn't call her into surgery with you. She clearly has some promise. But, then again, sometimes the ones with their heads actually screwed on straight are the ones who don't necessarily need to be led by the hand in order to learn. *humming thoughtfully to himself a he checked his own pager, then his watch* I'm on call for a few hours longer. I'll be crashing in the break room is anyone needs me. And… and I'll think about what you said. *sighing softly to himself as he rubbed at his eyes a bit, clearly already mentally anticipating the nap* I know it's selfish, and I know nothing is ever that easy, I just… *sighing as he continued walking out of the room, and towards the nearest on-call room, statement unfinished* I want her back. I don't feel like myself without her. The shrinks think it's the war, that I'm still re-adjusting to civilian life, but I've been overseas and back before. It was different. With Char, it was different. We just… were. No nightmares. No flashbacks. No other horsesh*t.

Alice: Usually, I pinch myself just for thinking about eating greasy diner food, but I'm so hungry I could die, and I'm pretty sure there is exactly nothing in my fridge except for some very expensive cheese. So… let's do it. You're a doctor. If I have a heart attack and collapse after inhaling a Monte Cristo sandwich, onion rings, and a strawberry milkshake, you'll take good care of me, right?

4/4/2019 . Edited 4/4/2019 #1,055 Report
M JacksonMiracle

Jasper: *unable to help the chuckle that rumbled deep in his chest* I only laugh because every medical student ever has their own strategies when it comes to multitasking. *watching her out of the corner of his eye to gauge her reaction at his next confession, but not daring to take his attention away from the road in front of him* I use to tack flash cards to the walls of every horse stall in Old Man McCarty's barn so I could study while mucking out the stalls, brushing down the horses, even while feeding them. I would actually hide different symptoms in the oat pails and mix them all up together, and tape the diagnosis to the very bottom so that as I fed the horses, I would uncover different clues and hopefully reach the right diagnosis by the end of feeding time. Things got a little messy when we had to start adding honey to some of the feed. *cringing as he remembered how the sticky goop had destroyed that particular method of learning. Sometimes, he really and truly missed the farm. As school got more involved, he spent less and less time there. McCarty had was now receiving help from another young man, Logan. Ironically, Jasper had been the one to introduce them. Logan was still an undergrad, but looking to apply to med school as soon as he was eligible. Jasper had served as his mentor and had invited him to the farm to help brush down the horses and exercise them, promising to quiz him and give him a few pointers on memorization techniques while they worked. Logan was a good guy. He'd do well both on the farm and in med school when the time came. Jasper had written him a stellar letter of recommendation as the mentorship had drawn to a close, and he hoped the younger man had put it to good use. It wasn't long after that trip down memory lane that he pulled up in front of the building Robyn had directed him to.* It's not a bad looking neighborhood. Although, I did notice that convenience store had thicker than average bars on the windows. Hopefully, he's just being overly cautious. Still, I hope you have an alarm system installed. There aren't many places in a city like this one that an alarm isn't an absolute necessity. *hesitating just a moment before making his next offer* I can pick you up in the morning before shift if you'd like. Maybe we could grab breakfast on the way? *hoping that she would see the offer for what it was, one intern being friendly to another intern. Nothing more than that. Dr. Summers was cute, and she definitely knew her stuff and he wouldn't object if she wanted more than a friendly professional relationship, but that was absolutely not his end goal this soon after meeting her. Give it a few months, and he might just change his mind and make it a goal, but right now, having a co-worker he could trust was more important than wooing her into being more than that.*

Jacob: *standing a little straighter and placing his closed fists on his hips so that he looked like those old posters of Superman, minus the cape flapping in the wind, of course. But if you looked at him from the right side, you could see the American flag in front of the hospital flapping over his shoulder* Faster than a racing heartbeat. More powerful than a clogged artery. Stopping cardiac arrest with a single breath. It's Doctorman! *flashing a smile that was all brilliant white teeth* I would offer to drive, but it's only five blocks away, and parking is impossible even this late at night. *true to his word, it was a short walk to the diner, and thankfully they were able to be seated right away, just a handful of other late night patrons enjoying a midnight snack were sprinkled throughout the red and white checkerboard booths. He looked at the menu for just a few seconds before making his declaration* You know what, I think you had the right idea. That Monte Cristo sounds amazing. I think I'm going to do the same, only with a chocolate shake instead.

4/4/2019 #1,056 Report
M JacksonMiracle

(And that will do it for me for the night! Be back tomorrow! :) )

4/4/2019 #1,057 Report
A Ambivalentanarchist

(Ditto! :) )

Robyn: That sounds amazing. *sighing softly at the unavoidable mental imagine of spending the summer working on a ranch. Images of cowboy hats, of jumping fences, of fields of tall grass, of sunsets that went of for days, of apples and sugar cubes all sprang to mind. It was nothing like that, she was sure. It had very probably been hard work, mucking out stalls, managing horses, dealing with the smell of manure. But, still, Robyn had always been a romantic, and in some ways she hoped she always would be* I've always loved horses. But, uh, I'm a bit of a city girl if you haven't noticed. Outside of the state fair, I don't think I've ever really been around animals at all, which is sort of sad when I think about it. I think my biggest on-the-job-mishap was during my first week of med school. I was working at one of those drive-in diners, you know, the ones where the carhops wear roller skates? Well… It was a family-owned place, and the menus were simple; the same size as standard sheets of paper. I am made an old mad very angry, and very confused when I handed him a diagram of the male reproductive system instead of a menu. *chuckling a little to herself as they rolled up, and Dr. Whitlock mentioned an alarm system* I live on the forth floor of a walk up, and my most valuable possession is a million pound TV I picked up off the side of the road for free. If someone decides to rob me, frankly, the joke is on them. *that wasn't counting her phone, of course, but that was two generations old now, and rarely if ever left her purse when she wasn't actively using it* As for the morning… I was actually planning to run to work. Maybe you're trying to be… chivalrous, and that's very nice, in it's own way, but I don't need looking after. But, I wouldn't totally snub you if we both happened to be picking up coffee from the café Dr. Brandon mentioned before our shift. I walked past it today—if it even is today anymore. Yesterday, whatever it is, it smelled amazing. Since you've admitted to the heinous sin of imbibing energy drinks, I assume you do drink coffee? *flashing him a genuine smile as she hopped out just as she saw him going for the door* Not a damsel. Not in distress. Thanks for the ride!

Alice: *liberally stuffing her face with a vigor that she would have cringed at just six hours ago. She couldn't help it, it was like a black hole had suddenly appeared in the bottom of her stomach, threatening to suck in everything that passed beyond its event horizon* This is literally the best thing I've ever tasted. *taking a very long drink from her strawberry shake as she polished off the last of her onion rings* It tastes like freedom, and victory, and I am so happy that I choose eating over sleep. I mean, if we go home after this we'll still get some sleep. Just not the National Sleep Foundation's recommended seven to nine hours.

4/4/2019 . Edited 4/4/2019 #1,058 Report
M JacksonMiracle

(I got home pretty late tonight, and headed to bed early since I have to work tomorrow. I'll try to get on and actually get a decent post in tomorrow evening while prepping my Sunday School lesson. If you get board and wanted to time skip to the next day, I'm ok with that. :) )

4/5/2019 #1,059 Report
A Ambivalentanarchist

(I really appreciate the heads up! I think I may do that. I already have a few ideas about how to start our next episode of "Seattle's Grace." :) Sorry you have to work on a Saturday though. Hope it isn't too hectic!)

4/5/2019 #1,060 Report
A Ambivalentanarchist

(Oh my gosh, this post got out of control quickly!)

Robyn: *frowning at the rollaway drawers she had pulled out from under the edge of her bed. For lack of a closet, or room for a proper dresser, most of her wardrobe was folded and rolled up in those drawers, save for her autumn jacket, which lived on the back of her desk chair, and the shoe rack which monopolized the outer surface of the bathroom door. She had been hemming and hawing for the better part of the last five minutes on what to wear to work this morning. That is, what clothes to wear out on her run to work this morning. It might have technically been autumn, but the heat of summer was still with them, and even if this wasn't California, it simply wouldn't be practical to layer up and cover every inch of her scars. And, there was a part of her that didn't want to. Those scars made a statement, and a strong one, too. She had seen things most people hadn't seen, she had experienced pain most people couldn't imagine, she had looked death in the face and lived to tell the tale. But, at the same time, there was still a part of her that was very insecure about them, about people who might interpret her scars a different way. People who would see them and think of her as broken, that would pity her instead of respecting her. It was frustrating to even be thinking about* Stupid Dr. Whitlock and his flirting-not-flirting. I can't believe I'm sitting here worrying about what to wear over a boy. Come on, Robyn, get it together. *snatching up a pair of leggings, a sports bra, and a hoodie before she could second-guess herself. If Dr. Whitlock thought less of her because of her scars, if he pitied her, or treated her like glass… well, then at least she would know now, before she let herself any butterfly-like feelings developed over the way he was always straightening out his clothes, or the sound of his laugh, or those eyes—were they green or brown? It was like they couldn't even properly decide, what even was that? After Robyn changed, she stuffed her belongings, borrowed scrub top included, into a messenger bag that she strapped across her body. Then, she left her apartment and just… ran. Forgot everything for five minutes, and just let her body carry her down the road. It was only a half-mile, nothing to write home about. Not nearly enough time to accomplish a runner's high, or even to make up for the calories she was about to imbibe with the spiced chai latte and bear claw that were called her name as she entered the café next door to the hospital. Which didn't matter so much to her anymore; didn't run for the same reasons she had when she was sixteen and obsessed with the idea of having a perfect body. It was good stress relief, and it would keep her off a cardio surgeon's table. That was enough for her. As Robyn settled into a window booth to wait on her order, she realized that this must be the place that most of the doctors went to get their morning coffee, which made sense, considering the fact that the cafeteria didn't open until seven. She could count a number of lab coats and scrubs among the crowd, although the only face she recognized straight off was Dr. Austin's, who was carrying out eight drinks, drink carriers precariously double stacked as he walked out the door like he wasn't a burn victim waiting to happen*

Peter: *they didn't take turns getting coffee among the attending; Peter knew that was how the residents liked to do it, it meant fewer trips out of the way, fewer minutes wasted in line, but most of the attendings had come up in their own time, from different places. Even if they were bonded, it wasn't quite in the same way. At least with regards to food, it was every man for himself. Today, however, he had decided to take his therapist's advice and do something nice for the people in his life who supported him. And, because all of his other friends were overseas, that meant passing coffee off to his co-workers. Well, his fellow attendings, at least. He would have given one to the Chief, too, but he didn't want to look like he was kissing up. That meant one for Dr. Turner in trauma, one for Dr. Denali in cardio… and finally one for Dr. Beaumont. He held her usual, a chai tea latte with extra cinnamon, out between like the olive branch that it was* …please, don't punch me in the face. *sighing when the woman of his dreams asked if she could punch him anywhere else* I'm trying to apologize. No should have never confronted you at work like that. I haven't been sleeping well lately and—no. No excuses. That was disrespectful; it was beyond disrespectful and I'm truly sorry. Moreover, it won't happen again. If it does, you can totally punch me. The stomach, if you would be so kind. I'd prefer one to two months advance notice, if possible, so I can try to develop a little bit of cushion to soften the blow—

Charlotte: *cutting him off with a laugh that surprised her just as much as it seemed to surprise Dr. Austin* Advance notice? Who do you think you're talking to? *unable to stop smiling despite herself as she snatched the cup up; ever since she quit caffeine, she needed an extra pick-me-up in the mornings and the smell of cinnamon was stronger than her willpower* Seriously, if you ever talk to me like that at work again, especially in front of an intern, I'll take you out back and show you what the phrase "hits like a girl" really means. *almost doing a spit take when Dr. Austin made a crack about it being a good thing he was friends with the trauma attending*

4/5/2019 . Edited 4/6/2019 #1,061 Report
A Ambivalentanarchist

(Fast-forwarding for some of our other characters as well, but I thought I'd leave Alice and Rosalie's mornings up to you. ;) )

Esme: *standing over the stove in the kitchen just as the light of pre-dawn started to filter in through the windows. The sun hadn't yet crested over the horizon, but nonetheless it was time for breakfast. In the Cullen household, there was one oddity about they way they ate; the tended to skip lunch around the house. Well, they all had since Edward started medical school, at least. It was simply easier to work through lunch, or to do other things besides eating when there was the time for a real break. To make up for the loss of calories, they all ate unusually large breakfasts and dinners. This morning's smorgasbord consisted of cheese and chive omlets that she was flipping onto plates with a flick of her wrist, French toast slices, hash browns, sausages, orange slices, and—naturally—coffee. Her son Edward quickly grabbed his plate and mug, tossing a quick thank you over his shoulder as he carried them into his bedroom to eat between bites while he got dressed. She cringed at the thought of what it would do to the state of the floors if he were to just miscalculate once and send it all to the floor, but tried to put it out of her mind as her husband entered with a partially askew tie* Edward is an adult. If he makes a mess, he'll find a way to clean it up. *smiling and leaning in for a kiss, then using the act of straightening Carlisle's tie as an excuse to get that much closer to him for a few minutes in what always was a hurried morning routine. In fact, she and Carlisle were out the door, in the car, and in the hospital in less than thirty minutes, right on time for the beginning of their six-to-six shifts. She gave Carlisle one last kiss in the privacy of his closed office before she headed off to her own, preparing for her interns to arrive, and already checking over the charts of the patients they were about to visit for potentially important items they might miss*

4/6/2019 #1,062 Report
M JacksonMiracle

Jasper: *The best thing about mornings is...well, nothing really. At least that's how he saw it. The only purpose of morning is to interrupt night. It kind of sounded like a line out of a song, but it was a philosophy that served him well. At least some of the time. Not so much this morning when he had to get up well before the sun to make it to work on time to review patient charts before conducting his share of rounds. At least he didn't have to lead the whole thing. He had four other people to share the load with. But that didn't mean he could slack off any. If anything, it meant he had to be even more familiar with the cases because he wouldn't know which ones Dr. Cullen wanted him to lead until the last minute. And there was always the chance she would start asking questions of the other interns in the middle of someone else presenting the case. He shoved a few final necessities into his backpack and made his way out to his truck, shoving his sleeves up to his elbows as he went. The plaid button down was one of his go to favorites, but it was still a little warm for the weather that greeted him. He was completely heedless of the tiny, perfectly round burn marks from Maria's cigarettes that were now revealed for the world to see. He had learned long ago not to worry about what others thought when they saw them, which wasn't often thanks to the white coat he got to wear 90% of the time when interacting with the outside world. He started the beast of a truck and smoothly, albeit noisily, pulled out into traffic. A very short time later, he found himself making his way inside the cafe Dr. Summers had hinted at the night before. He only half expected to actually see her there, but a man's got to eat, and this was as good a place as any to do so. He ordered a dark roast with sugar, no cream, and an everything bagel with cream cheese before spotting Dr. Summers and casually sauntering over to join* Fancy meeting you here, Dr. Summers. Did you enjoy your run this morning? *remembering their conversation from the night before and noting her choice of casual clothing. The outfit suited her just as well as the one yesterday had. He was now totally convinced that the woman could look good in a garbage bag.*

Gabriel: *One of his favorite parts of the night shift was when morning came and he got to turn it all over to the day shift. The process could take anywhere from 15 minutes to an hour depending on how many patients were in his care at the time. Today he was turning over an even dozen, including one very pregnant woman having strong contractions.* All the OB beds are full right now. *he explained to the incoming nurse, Leah Clearwater* So, she's still ours for the moment. As soon as Dr. Cullen's team completes discharge this morning and has a free bed, she'll be transferring out. She's still refusing an epidural, but I suspect that will change once labor progresses so keep one handy for when she asks for it and the doctor orders it. She's barely an hour in, so the road ahead is a long one. Upon admittance, an ultrasound showed that the baby was breached. The little guy can still turn around on his on, so keep monitoring. And don't forget to keep Dr. Cullen or one of her team informed of any progress between now and the transfer. Don't be afraid to call it if he stays breached too much longer and have a doctor sign her up for a Cesarean.

Leah: *nodding her head in understanding* And bed seven? A few minor bruises and lacerations from a skateboarding disaster. Have you gotten the ok to discharge him yet? *when the other nurse confirmed that it had just come through she noted it, and closed the final file in her stack* Ok, I think that covers it all. *tapping the pile of folders against the desk to align the bottom edge and make them neater looking and easier to handle* Have a good morning, Gabe. Are you on again in 12? *when he confirmed that he was, she wished him well and promised to see him again on the flip side*

Jacob: *he was early, like, really early to shift to make up for all the mistakes from the previous day* Good morning, Campers! *he chirped as he entered the locker room a good 45 minutes before his scheduled time. He quickly polished off the most sugared up, caffeinated beverage he could find on the Starbucks menu, and tossed the empty 20 oz cup into the waste bin from five feet away as he hopped to his assigned locker, and opened it on his first try* Yes! I think I got the hang of these locks now. It's all in the timing.

Rosalie: *eating the last bite of her peanut and banana toast and swallowing the last gulp of OJ before rinsing her dishes and placing them in the dishwasher. The machine wasn't very full yet, but if they didn't run it soon, they would end up having to use a knife instead of a fork to eat dinner.* Come on, Alice, we're going to be late if we don't hurry! *calling after her house mate even as she grabbed a compact out of her purse to check and see if any of her makeup had fallen apart in the 15 minutes since she had applied it. Thankfully, everything was still in place including the braid of hair down her back. She didn't wear braids very often, but they looked a little more professional than a basic pony tail and served the same purpose of keeping her hair out of her eyes when she was trying to work, and it would fit under the surgical cap just as easily.*

4/6/2019 #1,063 Report
A Ambivalentanarchist

Robyn: *unable to help the smile that cracked across her face as Jasper sat down in the empty seat across from her. Despite the fact that she had unzipped her hoodie the moment she first stepped out of her door and never re-zipped it, leaving the three long scars that stretched across her collarbone and disappeared into her bra exposed, as well as a series of smaller ones that dotted her abdomen, he didn't even seem to have noticed her scars. She knew logically that he must have; her body was littered with them, as a result of the cheap material of the front bumper that her her, that fateful morning so long ago now. It had shattered on impact—like some of her bones—before sending her to the concrete. But, really, it was the pieces of the bumper more than the road rash that had left the most lasting, visible damage. However, as she noticed his thick forearms where his sleeves were rolled up, she realized it was probably because he had scars of his own. It was a shame; she couldn't very well admire the muscles there without inevitably drawing attention to the marks. It would have been an avenue to ask him if he worked out and where, to find more excuses to spend time with him. Except, she guessed his muscles were more the result of manual labor, rather than body-building. She shrugged a little at the question* It was a little short for my tastes, I might have to start circling around the block a few times if I want to get any kind of mileage in. But, I guess shorter is better in this heat. I didn't bring water or anything this morning. I would have, but… I really thought it would be cooler than this right about now, considering how far north we are. *her eyes lighting up with tell-tale excitement as a barista popped over to deliver their orders, happily diving into her bear claw and spiced chai latte, although she was already making a mental reminder to order an ice drink the next time morning temperatures climbed above sixty degrees* I mean, it's not like they're going to be suffering a drought or anything anytime soon, but still. I was under the impression that Seattle was cold and rainy. *even though she was complaining, she couldn't seem to make herself stop smiling at the man across from her* At least I have a good excuse for blushing. It's hot. I was running. I should be flushed. But, seriously, it's a crime that he keeps forearms like that covered under sleeves all the time. I mean, so what if he has pox scars, or whatever? I always thought that "men look hotter with their sleeves rolled up" thing on tumblr was kind of silly but… he's like a hot lumberjack. *taking a little too dip of a drink of her hot beverage as she tried to calm her clearly out-of-control hormones, then grimacing, then her grimace deepening when she caught sight of the clock on the wall, which clearly stated that they were five minutes late* How in the hell? We're late?! *not knowing that the clock had been chronically twenty minutes fast for years, and had never been fixed due to it's high position on the wall, she jerked upwards out of her seat, stuffing the rest of her pastry in her mouth in two rapid bites as she made way for the door*

Edward: *chuckling softly at Jacob; the two of them seemed to be the only two interns who had arrived so far. However, due to carpooling with his parents—it might have seemed lame to an outside observer, but they were going to the same place, and it saved him a lot of gas money and maintenance on his motorcycle—he was always here early. Today, he sat fully dressed, parked on the benched that sat between the two walls of lockers, doing his morning sudoku. He would have bee quizzing himself on medicine, or going over charts or some such, but he found that the mental break before he started the day left him less stressed overall, and better able to deal with the challenges ahead. It was a trick he had picked up from his father. In fact, this was one of his old sudoku books, only with all the answers erased* I find that I have to shake the bottom of mine back and forth a little on that last number. They're all a little old, but hopefully that means any would-be thieves would have just as hard of a time with it. *finally looking up from his book as he finished his latest puzzle, extending his hand to shake* I'm Edward.

Alice: *lifting up her bedskirt and kneeling down to glance under the bed for the third time in as many minutes, calling out to Rosalie across the house as she dropped it in a huff; luckily they weren't too far for their voices to carry. The extra bedroom she was renting was on the first floor, and had probably been converted from a drawing room or library at some point, given the style of the house* I can't find my mascara! You didn't borrow it, did you? You know, you're not supposed to do that with eye make-up. *sighing deeply as she decided she would just have to go without it today. Worst case scenario, she could pick up another tube on the way home, although it would have to be the Sephora brand instead of one of the others that she loved; she had to start reigning in her budget at some point. After all, between her lower starting pay as an intern and her stipend from her parent's trust, money was starting to wear thin. But, how could she be blamed for having good taste* Whatever, let's just go. *stomping out into the kitchen and snatching up a cliff bar and a bottle of water for breakfast, but she didn't need much after the way she had indulged last night* You don't mind driving, do you? *she shrieked as she reached into her purse to fish out her house keys, only to extract the mascara in question* How did you end up in my purple bag, you bastard? *resisting the urge to kiss the tube as she hustled out to Rosalie's car, the cherry red mustang parked out front*

4/6/2019 #1,064 Report
M JacksonMiracle

Jasper: Oh, don't you worry, you'll see your fair share of rain here. Seattle weather tends to go from an hour or two of sun to overcast in the mid-morning to rain by lunch time. If we're lucky, the sun might pop out again just in time to set. *precisely smearing cream cheese over his bagel before taking a huge bite of it. Most people took the process of spreading cream cheese on a bagel for granted. He used it as a chance to practice his skills. He used just the edge of his knife, making sure that the layer was thick and even across the top. If he could judge how hard to press a knife against a bagel for an even layer of cheese, then it would be that much easier to judge how much pressure to use with a scalpel to cut deep enough to get through all the layers of skin and fat when performing a surgery. To him, everything had to be an exercise in control. Likewise, he held the paper cup his coffee came in as gently as possible, tight to keep it from sliding out of his hand, but also loose enough that the thin materiel didn't bend under his touch. He hated it when he saw someone holding a cup so tightly that it forced liquid up through the lid and over the sides. It would happen more often with soda than with coffee, but the principal was still the same. He noted the raised white marks leading across Robyn's body, but accepted them just as he knew that she accepted his own marks. Without saying a word to each other, they had somehow bonded, a mutual respect between the two of them somehow forming. Her scars were much, much worse than his own of course. Most of what Maria did to him didn't leave a lasting impression. Just the cigarettes, and once a hot iron. That mark was on the back of his right shoulder, a patch of half-melted looking skin, it was kind of gross to look at, but thankfully it was in a place that he didn't see very often. But others would see it. Another go to for her had been the dirty diapers she forced him to eat out of when one of the younger kids messed themselves and he didn't get their diaper changed quick enough because he was doing other chores. That only happened twice before he gave diaper changes a much higher priority than before. Robyn's declaration that they were late snapped him out of the nightmare flashbacks he had been having as he rushed to inhale the last two bites of his bagel and last few swallows of coffee* That's impossible. I didn't think my internal clock was that off. *he said in a voice that was close to panic even as he practically ran out of the cafe behind her. It wasn't until they were half-way down the hall to the locker rooms and noticing the unhurried pace of the other interns that he stopped and took time to look at his watch* Wait, wait, wait, something's off here. We're...early? Look. *showing her the time on his watch, as he paused to catch his breath* We've still got just enough time to change and get to Dr. Cullen's office. I guess you did say that you needed your run to be a little longer. *chuckling a bit at his poor attempt at humor* Thanks for including me in that.

Jacob: *firmly grasping the other doctor's hand and giving it a couple pumps before releasing it again* Dr. Jacob Black. Uh, Jake, I guess, if we're being more casual. *getting his first look at Edward's hospital badge* You're Dr. Cullen's son! Wow. Son of the chief. I feel like I should salute or something. *instantly backpedaling at the odd expression he received in return* Sorry, I just...I mean, I knew that Chief Cullen and Dr. Cullen had a son here for his intern year. I'm on Dr. Cullen's service this rotation, your mom's service. This is going to sound really bad, but please take it for how I mean it and nothing else, but...how do I get on your mother's good side? *looking down at his shoes and scuffing his toe on the ground in a little boy embarrassed kind of way* I kind of messed up a few things yesterday. The excitement of it all, or whatever, kind of got to me, and I...I overstepped a little. And I might not have been giving my full effort. I want to change that today, which is why I'm so early. I only hope it's not too late. And anything you can tell me about how to impress her would be very much appreciated. A particular way or format she likes to use or hear when presenting during rounds. A certain way to hold a scalpel. A favorite phrase she likes to use when talking a mom through a difficult labor. Anything you got, I'll take. I'd be eternally gratefully, man.

Rosalie: I did not take your mascara. Nail polish is the only thing I have ever borrowed from you without asking first, and it was an emergency. A chipped nail on a second date kind of emergency. *nodding her head eagerly when Alice let it drop* Yes, yes, I'll drive, let's go! *She had always said that if she hadn't gone into medicine, she would have loved to pursue a career as a automotive engineer, more commonly known as a mechanic. But not the typical beer gut hanging over a too tight waist band, cigar chomping, five o'clock shadow, slightly dishonest kind of mechanic. She would have been the kind with an immaculate garage so clean one would never know it was cars went to the doctor. She would know everything there was to know about each and every part of the car and would be able to talk about it in an intelligent way. She supposed that was why it had taken her so long to decide on the perfect car to buy, and this was it. If anything every happened to this baby, she didn't know how she would be able to go on. But they were also running late. So of course she was going to speed through the side roads of Seattle toward the hospital. If they were pulled over she could always make Alice fake a seizure or something and claim that it was an emergency. Unfortunately just as quickly as she had the thought, she shoved it away. Faking a medical emergency was a crime. She could lose her license for something like that. No speeding ticket was worth that. She whipped into a parking spot as close to the door as she could get and took off in the direction of the door closest to the locker rooms, knowing that Alice would be right next to her the whole way there.*

4/6/2019 #1,065 Report
A Ambivalentanarchist

Edward: *cringing as Dr. Black didn't just allude to his relatives here at Seattle Grace, but named them outright* Listen… there's a reason I didn't introduce myself as "Dr. Cullen." I'm not here to be the Chief's son, or the Resident Obstetrician's son. I'm an intern, just like you, and I worked hard to get here. I was in the top three percent of my graduating class at UW. It's not nepotism, or whatever else you might think. I applied here because Seattle Grace has an amazing teaching program, and I happen to know that the board here started covering up the names on the applications they receive a few years back to increase diversity when they do their hiring; it also gave me a degree of anonymity. *standing and folding up his sudoku book, stuffing the tiny book and the pencil he had been using into one of the rear pants pockets of his slacks* You got on mom's bad side? *laughing a little to himself* How? *laughing a little harder, before finally smothering his smile* I'm sorry, it's just, she's usually pretty easy to get along with in my experience. But, then again, I'm family. I get to see a whole different side of her. I mean, I've seen her at work now and then over the years. Sometimes she can seem like wonder woman… let's be honest, she is wonder woman. Being a doctor and a mom isn't easy, but somehow she managed to do both. I guess… if you're looking to get on her good side, that's a place to start. Respect. That's the only way I can imagine you set her off, anyways, she hates it when people treat each other poorly. You're a doctor, sure. But, you're a person first. So are your patients, your colleges. You can't let yourself forget that. It might be an easier job if we could just divorce ourselves of all those messy feelings, but my dad, well, the Chief, always told me that the most important tool a doctor can use is their compassion. *clapping a hand on Dr. Black's shoulder a bit awkwardly* Show her you know how to use it, Jake, and I'm sure you'll be just fine.

Robyn: *her body going slack with relief when she spotted the time on Jasper's watch. They weren't late after all* That stupid clock in the café must have been off. *shaking her head a little to herself and chuckling softly; now that they weren't in imminent danger of getting their behinds chewed out beyond recognition, she had to admit it was a little bit funny* Well, you're welcome to join me anytime. That is… if you can keep up. *turning on her heel and walking towards the women's locker room with far more confidence than she actually felt* Why did I just say that? It was so cheesy. Like, a painful amount of cheddar. *shaking her head to herself as she headed over to her locker, which only opened if she compressed the lock down as far into the mechanism as it would go while she entered the code. Then she stripped herself of her running gear and changed into a pair of green scrubs with a work-appropriate camisole underneath. She let her down from it's ponytail before she closed up her locker, giving her a completely transformed look from when she came in. Except for the shoes. Robyn knew well enough that most of her fellow interns would be in athletic shoes by the end of the first month, even if it would be by protest and because their swollen feet wouldn't fit in anything else anymore for some. Her morning runs just gave her an excuse to switch over early. As cute and as practical as her her go-to booties were, they were still no match for the hours an intern spent on their feet, and yesterday had only been a reminder of that. Just as she was completely ready, and opening the door to step into the hall, she had to step back again to keep from getting bowled over by a very tall blonde and a very short brunette* Woah! Where's the fire?

Alice: *huffing as she made a bee line for her locker* I'm wearing better shoes today, but still mostly in my toes. *by "better shoes" she meant the very comfortable Prada clogs that had gotten her through her last year as a medical student. They didn't have orthotics or anything of that nature, but at least they weren't as hideous as the lime green-on-black running shoes that Dr. Summers was sporting at the moment* How is it that traffic is still this awful this early in the morning? I thought New York was the city that never slept. *hurriedly changing from her suit-and-skirt ensemble into her second set of pink scrubs, complete with a long-sleeved shirt in an even lighter shade of pink* Okay, okay, I'm ready! *backtracking when she realized she left her locker open, but it only took a moment to close and lock it* Okay, now I'm ready. Let's save some lives, ladies! *walking out of the locker room like she was leading a charge*

4/6/2019 #1,066 Report
A Ambivalentanarchist

(I hope Sunday School goes well today! :) )

4/7/2019 #1,067 Report
M JacksonMiracle

(Sunday School was good! The meeting I had afterwards ran a little long so I'm just now getting on to work on a post. Sorry in advance if I fall asleep before it's done. If I do, I promise I'll get it up as quickly as possible after work tomorrow. :) )

4/7/2019 #1,068 Report
A Ambivalentanarchist

(Not to worry, it was the hubby's bday today, so I was actually pretty busy myself. Looking forward to what you come up with, be it today or tomorrow. :) )

4/7/2019 #1,069 Report
M JacksonMiracle

Jacob: *changing into his green scrubs as he talked to the young Dr. Cullen* I didn't mean to imply nepotism, but you have to admit it is highly unusual to have three doctors in the family and for all of them to be working at the same hospital. I guess I think it's kind of unique. It's not a matter of being good or bad, it's just an interesting fact. I'm sure you're a fantastic doctor in your own right and I look forward to possibly working with you. *cringing a little when the other man mentioned the only real way to get on Dr. Cullen's bad side was disrespect. But his advice on how to turn his passion into compassion did make a lot of sense.* Yeah, yeah, compassion. I'll work on that. *nodding to himself as he considered ways to show care for his patients today. A little empathy could go a long way. But too much empathy meant that he wouldn't be able to do his job effectively. If a doctor empathized every time he had to cause his patient a little pain to make the patient's bigger pain go away then modern medicine would not exist. However, people are people, and sometimes it's not the physical pain that needs the most empathy so much as it's the emotional pain. But how did he show empathy and compassion for someone's emotions and still accomplish his job without having a complete and total breakdown? He'd either be so overcome with grief, he wouldn't be able to hold a scalpel, much less use one, or he'd simply start getting angry over all the terrible things other people had endured and that anger would bring out his wolf side. Talk about doing more harm than good. His inner wolf was an intense beast that no one wanted to tangle with. When his temper got out of hand, he had been known to go blind with rage, screaming and throwing things. It wasn't a pretty sight. Snapping his lock back into place, he hesitated a moment longer before turning back to Edward* Thank you, Dr. Cullen. And you should be proud of your name. Don't hide who you are. You're Dr. Cullen just as much as the other two are. Call yourself Edward and people will walk all over you. They won't respect you any more than any other Tom, Dick, or Harry in the world. But that title, Doctor, that deserves respect. So use it. Nurses can use their first name. But doctors...unless you're trying to sound cool for some teenage patient...doctors use their last name. *dodging Dr. Whitlock on his way out of the locker room* I'll see you out there, Dr. Whitlock. Do you know if the girls are here yet? I'm hoping to win some bonus points by being first today. *when the other man confirmed that he thought Dr. Summers was here, but he wasn't sure about the other two, he double timed it all the way to Dr. Cullen's office*

Rosalie: *wearing her other pair of pink scrubs over a dark navy long sleeved top, loving the way the two colors contrasted with each other, and following Alice out of the locker room* The difference between New York traffic and Seattle traffic are the taxi cabs. There are five times as many operational cabs in New York than in Seattle. People in Seattle have to drive themselves or take an Uber everywhere they go, thus more traffic on the roads. In New York, more people walk or take public transportation. Therefore, all you ever see on the roads are the cabs. New York doesn't sleep, but they also don't drive.

4/9/2019 #1,070 Report
A Ambivalentanarchist

Alice: *sighing softly as she and Rosalie hustled down the hall behind their fellow students* You know what I miss about Biloxi? We didn't have traffic there. I remember when I was a girl, we would rollerblade down empty streets, and so long as you were in the residential part of town, you might never have to move out of the way for a passing car. Of course, the shopping was terrible, and there was always hurricane season, but… *snapping her mouth shut like a mousetrap as they rounded the corner to Dr. Cullen's office. They were still early, perhaps only just, but early, yet Dr. Cullen was already there, ready, waiting for them. In fact, Dr. Summer and Dr. Whitlock had beat them there as well. Alice tried not to deflate* We're on time. So what if it seems on time is now five minutes late? That's a problem for tomorrow. I have to deal with my today problems right now, like leading the rounds, and trying not to focus on the fact that one of my nails just chipped.

Esme: *blinking in slight surprise when she opened her office door to the sight of Dr. Black already standing there, at the ready* Good morning, Dr. Black. *it was still technically five minutes before the interns shifts were supposed to start, but regardless they all quickly piled in behind Dr. Black, first Dr. Summers, then Dr. Whitlock, and last but not least, Dr. Hale and Dr. Brandon* Well, I suppose it's going to be a very good morning with you all so punctual. *smiling slightly to herself as she started passing out the stack of clipboards in her hand this morning, there were six, one for each of them with slim stacks of paper and pens attached, then her usual thick stack, notepad, and fountain pen* I think I'll have you start off the rounds by order of arrival. I've divided up all of the patients mostly equally, with one remainder. I'll be giving him to you, Dr. Hale. *continuing at the looks of confusion that passed over the faces of the interns in front of her, some more overt in their lack of understanding than others* Mr. Giles is intersex, but most of his outward characteristics are male, so he finds it easier to identify as a male in social settings. Please treat him as such. *clearing her throat, then referencing her clipboard for a moment* Alright, then, I'll be having you present your patients by your order of arrival, so beginning with you, Dr. Black, then on to Dr. Summers, Dr. Whitlock, Dr. Hale, then finishing up with Dr. Brandon. If you need help, don't let your pride get in the way of asking it of your fellow interns, or of me. Doctors need advice from other doctors all the time, it's the reason consults and second opinions exist. I understand that you might want to impress me, but the needs of the patient always come first.

4/9/2019 #1,071 Report
M JacksonMiracle

Jacob: *he hoped that his outward appearance didn't betray the sense of near panic he felt inwardly at being asked to present his cases first this morning. It wasn't that he was unprepared to do so. If anything, he was over prepared, completely confident in speaking about patients and their conditions and the current game plan to heal them. At least he was confident with his method of presentation. One wouldn't think that reading statistics off a chart would be that different between different people. But every doctor he had ever learned from did seem to have a slightly different way in which they would talk about cases. Over the past year, he had worked to hone in on exactly what worked for him. He could only hope that his method was acceptable to Dr. Cullen. He took a breath before opening the first file and reminded himself of what young Dr. Cullen had told him moments ago about compassion. The exact opposite of how he had seemed yesterday. Now was his chance to show Dr. Cullen exactly the kind of doctor he intended to be. Effective and caring. It was going to take work, but he would give it his best shot. And this first case might just test his resolve to try.* Ok, here we go. *leading the way to the first patient room in his stack, and nodding politely to the single female police officer standing guard outside the room. The patient had already been changed out of her bright orange jumpsuit and into a gown, but her wrists and ankles were both securely cuffed to the metal rungs of the bed* Diana Aleppo. 28 years old. 39 and a half weeks gestation. We will be inducing Diana's labor today using a combination of synthetic prostaglandins and intravenous oxytocin over the next hour. *turning to face the patient directly and offering her a warm smile* Diana, I know this isn't the ideal circumstance for you right now, but we are going to do everything we can to deliver your baby safely and as easily as possible. I'll need to do an ultrasound just to check the baby's position and examine you prior to induction. But first, do you have any questions for me? *when Diana asked about the cuffs being removed, he answered without hesitation* There is a state law in place that allows them to be removed as labor progresses. I'll talk to the officer and together the three of us will decide when that time will come. *after a few more questions and answers regarding how long the process would take and if she would be able to hold her child before the foster parents came to pick her up, Diana then brought up the epidural and stated that she didn't want one since she was recovering addict and really wanted stay clean.* I can help with that. Typically, an epidural is made up of three parts. Only one of those parts is considered an opioid, Fentanyl. The hospital can ensure that your epidural is opioid free by using just Lidocaine and Bupivacaine. It's also very rare for any part of an epidural to make it into your blood stream since it's actually injected into the lumbar region of your spine. You'll still be completely clean when this is all done. *finally, Diana was satisfied that all her questions had been answered and allowed him to use the ultasound and examine her.* Your baby girl must know something's going on, she's in the perfect position for a natural delivery, and her heartbeat is strong. Everything looks good here. Are you ready? *when the patient nodded, he double checked the label on the medication the nurse handed him and smoothly injected it into her IV*

4/9/2019 #1,072 Report
A Ambivalentanarchist

Esme: *giving Dr. Black a small, encouraging smile as he finished up with his first patient. Despite the obvious, he hadn't treated Ms. Aleppo like the criminal she was, he had compartmentalized, and treated her like a patient, and not without sympathy, either* He's learning. Very good, Dr. Black. Now, Nurse Bella here will keep an eye on the progress of Ms. Aleppo's labor. Since you're Ms. Aleppo's doctor, you will receive a page once labor is underway, and I trust that you can handle it with the nurse's assistance, complications aside. *stepping out of the door and hanging back as she allowed Dr. Black to go through the rest of his portion of the rounds. Once he has finished with his list of patients, Esme watched as Dr. Summers stepped forward without prompting and led them into the room of the first on her own list* She's quite confident. Is this the one that didn't finish their first internship? I think I remember Carlisle saying… something. I really should pay more attention when he's on call with the board.

Robyn: *she surprised herself, in that her heart did beat a little faster as she greeted the patient who, if Esme's interaction with Dr. Black meant anything, would be largely under her care for the time being. It didn't start to pound, or anything so ludicrous, her hands didn't shake like they had the first time a patient had admitted to her that they were nervous to have a new doctor taking care of them. It wasn't the same as it was that first time, but the pressure was still there. In a way, she hoped it would always be there, the same way she always felt a touch of anxiety well up anytime she got behind the wheel of a car. These emotions were important, they were a reminder of the responsibility that she held in her hands when she gripped a steering wheel or a scalpel. She was taking lives into her hands, and one should never be caviller about that* Hello, Mrs. Riddle. *waving slightly to the man sitting beside her, holding the middle-aged woman's hand* Is this Mr. Riddle, your husband? He was listed as your emergency contact on your chart. *nodding when Mrs. Riddle confirmed that he was indeed her husband. The man then offered her his wrong hand to shake, but being left-handed and not too big of a fan of overly firm handshakes, Robyn didn't mind* It's nice to meet you both. I'm Dr. Summers. Mrs. Riddle, I can see that you're here for an endometrial biopsy. Do you mind if I go over your medical history a bit so we an get started? Okay, so you had some unusual bleeding, starting two years ago? *using her pen to correct the chart when the patient revealed that she only visited the doctor about the bleeding two years ago, but in fact it had been happening for closer to three* Alright, and I can see that the your primary care doctor ordered a blood test which came back with elevated levels of CA 125. Do you know what that means? *nodding along when the patient revealed that she had spoken to an oncologist about those results already* Okay, so before we start, *looking between the couple before her* No sexual intercourse for at least three days afterwards. You probably won't want to, there will likely be some cramping and bleeding, but personally I like to lay it all out there ahead of time so there are no misunderstandings. No tampons, either. *when the couple confirmed that Mrs. Riddle would be resting in bed for a few days afterwards to binge the latest season of a serial crime drama, Robyn let her stern expression slip, just a touch* Alright, now we just need to do a quick urine test to confirm you aren't pregnant, and then we can start. *already reaching for her gloves and a sterile, sealable cup*

4/9/2019 . Edited 4/9/2019 #1,073 Report
M JacksonMiracle

(Spent too long researching again, and now it's time for bed! )

Jasper: *watching Robyn do her rounds with equal fascination for the medical experience that it provided as well as admiration for the doctor leading them. Everything Dr. Summers did from talking to patients to collecting samples to explaining procedures and terminology amazed him. It wasn't so much what she was doing since he would have done exactly the same things and would be doing them soon, but it was how she was doing them. She was an angel in disguise. In fact the more he watched her, the more convinced he became of his initial diagnosis. Dr. Robyn Summers was an astonishing angel and really, really good doctor. He was more than a little intimidated to have to present his cases immediately following hers. But nonetheless he did so with confidence and conciseness, even with the most difficult patient he had been given.* Leyla Vasilev. 18 years old. *he hesitated before reading out the general synopsis he had in front of him in her chart, but only for a half second before continuing* Two weeks post abortion. *his eyes found Rosalie's as he spoke the words. Even though he'd only known his sister for a very short time, one thing she had made abundantly clear from the very beginning was her extreme distaste for abortions. She respected that it was the law of the land and as a doctor she knew that sometimes, in rare cases, there was a valid medical reason for having one. But also as a doctor she had seen enough ultrasounds to know exactly how far developed a fetus was during the time frame most abortions occur. Obviously, not well enough to survive outside the womb, but also surprisingly detailed. He didn't think she saw an abortion as murder necessarily, but he knew how much she hated the idea of aborting an unborn child because someone didn't want them when there were so many more women out there who wanted children more than anything else in the world and would do anything for a child, but for whatever reason, they weren't able to conceive. He cleared his throat, feigning dryness and continued presenting* Leyla was admitted with extreme pelvic pain, vaginal discharge, and a spiking fever in excess of 101. She's been treated with mild painkillers and anti-inflammatories to bring down the fever. Leyla, is it ok with you if I ask you a few questions just to fill in a few of the blanks here? *when the patient nodded, he proceeded to take notes on how far along her pregnancy was when she had the abortion, on rather the abortion had been performed as a D and C or drug induced, and what after care she'd had since then* So, you had a copper IUD implanted immediately following the procedure, correct? No allergies to copper? *the patient shook her head and he continued* Ok, I think I have enough for the moment. Do you mind if I examine you now and take some culture samples to help find out what's going on and how to make you better? *when she nodded, he proceeded with the examination, a careful mask in place over his expression* Dr. Cullen, do you mind just double checking what I'm feeling here? *looking up at the resident from his spot at the foot of the bed, and carefully lowering his voice when she close enough to hear him* I'm a little concerned that the IUD isn't inserted correctly. It feels...a little high up. I'm thinking PID caused by a bacterial infection that entered her system sometime between the D and C and the improper placement. I'd recommend removal of the IUD. Broad spectrum antibiotics and monitoring to make sure it didn't damage the uterus? *ending with an unintended question despite being confident of his diagnosis and treatment plan. He wouldn't have asked for her to check at all, but he'd never actually examined a patient with an IUD before and therefore didn't have enough of a gut instinct to reveal his diagnosis to the patient without confirmation from someone with more experience.*

4/9/2019 #1,074 Report
A Ambivalentanarchist

(Haha, sure thing! Sleep tight! :) )

4/9/2019 #1,075 Report
A Ambivalentanarchist

Esme: *putting on a serene smile as she stepped forward* Of course, Dr. Whitlock. Do you mind if I have a look as well, Leyla? *when the other woman gave her consent, Esme snapped on a pair of gloves and gently felt in the same area Dr. Whitlock had* Does that hurt, Leyla? *noticing their patient's unhappy grimace when she pressed down, she eased up even further, pulling away entirely* I'm very sorry. *glancing towards Dr. Whitlock, then back again* I concur with Dr. Whitlock's diagnosis. I believe that your IUD is the source of the problem. It says on your chart a Dr. Simmons inserted it? Is that your primary care doctor? *humming softly when the patient confirmed that he was* You may want to consider changing doctors in the future. It would appear that he didn't insert your IUD correctly, and to make matters worse, there was some sort of bacterial contamination when your IUD was inserted, resulting in a pelvic infection. I'll assist Dr. Whitlock in removing the device, and you should from sexual activity until you've finished your course of antibiotics; we won't be able to put in a new IUD until the infection is gone. The swelling might make insertion overly complicated. *she glanced at Dr. Whitlock, a glance that communicated that he should be taking notes; after all, he would be the one inserting the thing, or so she hoped it was clear* Is there any particular reason you choose a copper IUD? *the patient replied that she heard it could be used for up to ten years, and blushed as she admitted that she really wanted to get through college without another pregnancy scare* Well, it's true that hormonal IUDs like Mirena don't last as long, around the five year range, but the progestin levonorgestrel in hormonal IUDs causes thicker cervical mucus, endometrial changes and reduces retrograde menstruation; these conditions help create a protective effect against infection, and could lower your risk of another pelvic inflammatory infection. *smiling sympathetically when the patient expressed unease with getting a second birth control implant after the first one had done this to her* Well, Dr. Whitlock is a surgeon, and we keep a very clean house here at Seattle Grace. However, if you're worried about another pelvic infection, you could always go with a Nexplanon implant. *using her hand to illustrate on her own arm* The chances of infection are much lower. It lasts five years as well, and is inserted using a very small incision on the upper arm. It might seem a strange idea, but I can hardly feel mine at all. If I press down, there's a little bump, that's all. *motioning towards Dr. Whitlock when the patient put up even more reluctance towards the idea, a "take it away" sort of gesture. Esme found herself smiling softly when Dr. Whitlock began to relay other methods of birth control, the shot, the patch, the ring, the pill, and the classic condoms, instead of trying to further pressure her into, perhaps more exciting options. In the end, Leyla consented to trying the Nexplanon implant, which they decided Dr. Whitlock would insert immediately after he helped remove her copper IUD*

Charlotte: *appearing in the doorway just as Dr. Hale had begun to speak with her patient, but Charlotte didn't see at first, too occupied with the clipboard in hand* Dr. Cullen, I was told that the sonographer for your ovarian cyst patient thinks they might have spotted some gallstones— *stopping when she looked up, and quickly digested what was happening* Oh, I'm sorry, Dr. Hale. I didn't realize we were doing this today. Please, continue. *folding her clipboard in hand and watching the blonde attentively*

4/9/2019 . Edited 4/9/2019 #1,076 Report
A Ambivalentanarchist

(Happy weekend! :D)

4/12/2019 #1,077 Report
A Ambivalentanarchist

(Please let me know if your creative juices need a fast-forward, or possibly a change in plot. I have a few ideas for a college/law school/bookstore/coffee type shop AU that I could use. :) )

4/15/2019 #1,078 Report
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