How To Save A Life (Grey's Anatomy)

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter 34

Season 6, Episode 1

There's a theory that there are five stages of grief. After someone goes through a catastrophic loss or heartbreak, there are five consistent emotions they feel over a period of time. I guess I'm one of those people that disproves the theory. Whenever I went through something growing up, I would become numb. It didn't just happen, I would force myself not to care. I would close myself off and not let anything get to me because feeling that pain would be too much to handle.

I've lost people. They've left or disappeared before my very own eyes, but no one I loved has ever died. I've never gone through the sudden loss of a parent or grandparent. I've never had to feel the pain of not being able to hold someone, or touching a cold body at a funeral. The people I love just drift away slowly until my mind has come to terms with the fact that they're gone.

I've never gone through the denial of a sudden loss, the anger that I can't change it, the bargaining for a better outcome, or the depression of realizing how helpless I am. I only know the acceptance. The acceptance of the things I cannot change.

As I watch Izzie dying in front of me, I can't believe it's actually happening. I guess this is the first stage of grief. The denial. Suddenly, after one more shock of the paddles, Izzie's eyes burst open. At first, I think I'm seeing things, but then her eyes start moving, looking around the room.

"Stevens? Can you hear me?" Webber asks her frantically as my breath catches in my throat. She's awake and somehow she's not dead.

"Oh, my god." I breathe out, a sob escaping my lips as I slump over and my back hits the wall.

∞∞∞∞∞∞

When she was finally stable and sitting up in the bed, the panic around the room had finally died down. She's still intubated but with her now being awake, she starts to point to it, coughing sightly.

"She wants it out," Alex says from his spot by her bed. "Can't we take it out?"

"She's breathing over the vent." Cristina points out which makes Webber nod in agreement.

"All right. Let's pull out the tube." Webber says, leaning over to help Izzie. I've managed to collect myself in the past couple of minutes, I don't think this day could get much worse. I've had my share of bad days, but this is definitely up there. Something catches my eye and I look up to see Meredith walking towards the room.

"Dr. Bailey." She says when she gets to the room. There's something different in her voice and I can't tell what it is. It's something I've never heard from Meredith but I can feel something in the pit of my stomach, and I don't like it.

"What, Grey?" She asks her, but Meredith can't seem to say another word. "Spit it out."

"Can I see you... in the hall. You too, Chief." She manages to say but it feels like every word is painful and I can't help but follow them out of the room. When the ICU doors have closed, we turn to face her. Meredith makes long eye contact with me for a moment and I can see tears in her eyes, but confusion clouds my own.

"What happened?" I ask her and her mouth opens, but a silent crack of air is all that leaves her lips.

"It's George." She breathes out but I don't understand.

"It-It's George? What is?" I ask her but something in the way she's looking at me makes me feel sick. I know that look. I've even given people that look when I have to work up to telling them that their family member is dead.

"The... bus guy." She says and at first, I don't understand. "It's George."

It took a moment for her words to register in my brain. I had forgotten all about the trauma from this morning after what happened with Izzie. I pause for what feels like an eternity. No tears in my eyes, no emotion on my face, not even a breath of air. From someone standing far away, I would look normal. I wouldn't look like my entire world was about to fall apart around me.