Love gives hope

Chapter 7 "get over yourself"

Meredith's Point-of-View

"Dr. Grey." Liz sighed as she handed me a paper hot off the fax as I looked over Derek's chart. It had been a week since I got assigned to him, and though most days were decent, I was trying like hell to keep his spirits raised, but I could only do so much.

"Is that the lab results for Derek?" I asked as I grabbed it, she nodded.

I frowned as she gave me a sunken expression, I gulped as I looked over his blood work. The sunkenness hit me too when I saw his white blood count as well as his urinalysis. Here I thought things were going well; maybe this was what he was talking about. Just as soon as things got better, they turned around and got worse. It was like a dance with him, well no one's seen my sidestep.

I let out a sigh and slapped the chart shut before marching down the hallway to his room. I didn't knock I just waltzed right in to find him barely awake. Even sleeping, his face reflected pain, I thought it was still post-op pain, but now that I had the paperwork, I knew it was something else. I crossed my arms and let all my seriousness show on my face as he slowly opened his eyes and gave me a weak smile.

"You look angry." He mumbled. "I swear I didn't do it."

"How are you feeling Derek?" I asked with annoyance.

"I'm feeling great, sharp as a whistle, clean as a.."

My nostrils flared as I pressed my lips together "Cut the crap." I muttered as I held the lab slip up.

"Well." He sighed, "You're holding my blood work in your hands, so you tell me how I'm feeling."

"My guess is that you're in a hell of a lot of pain right now." I scoffed, "You have a bladder infection that's working its way up into your kidneys. Why didn't you tell me you were hurting?"

"I have a catheter Dr. Grey, it kind of always feels uncomfortable, the only way to numb that kind of pain would be to give me an epidural. If you did that, I wouldn't feel the bladder pain anyway."

I heaved out a breath as I rubbed my temples in frustration "Well I'm going to have to add antibiotics to your medicine regime."

"Why bother." He hissed, "It's only going to lengthen my stay."

"You are not on death row here." I huffed, "You are a patient, and I am a doctor. It is my job to—"

"To do as your patient wishes." He snapped, "This patient is tired of life today, so please, don't issue me the antibiotics."

"You're not dying." I muttered as I walked over and grabbed the small orange labeled IV bag I'd picked up on my way to his room "Especially not dying of a bladder infection! Derek, you really want your last memory being of the strong desire to cut your own penis off?"

"Meredith!" he hissed as I hung the bag, "Please, please don't do this."

"What are you going to do?" I challenged him, "Fight me?"

"Exactly." He breathed.

After I attached the IV to him, I looked down as the broken tone in his voice got my attention. He laid his head back against the pillow and closed his eyes. It didn't keep the tears from rolling out from the corners. I sat down on the edge of the bed with concern, though I wasn't sure what to say.

"Derek," I mumbled, "I'm not trying to hurt you. I'm trying to save you."

"At this point." He whispered, "it's the same thing."

"Why." I asked, "Why is it the same thing?" He rolled his eyes and shook his head, I reached out and touched his face to turn his eyes back to looking at me. He seemed startled, "I'm trying to understand you here, please don't look away from me. It's really annoying being ignored and I hate having the feeling that I'm talking to a brick wall."

I saw a hint of a smirk in his eyes, and he nodded as he took in a deep breath.

"I am not a man."

"Of course, you're a man." I giggled once, "I can lift up your gown to prove that fact if you want."

"No." he shook his head "I'm not a man. Not like this."

"Ok?" I frowned, "Explain please."

"That man that I used to be..." he mumbled as he thought back "I was strong, I was young, I had the world at my fingertips. I was a surgeon; I was known as the one to beat. Everyone tried to but they could never beat me, because I was the best. I had the girls lining up to go on a date with me, I could have my pick of any of them. I am one of five children; I have four sisters and a wonderful very loud Irish mother. Lots of nieces and nephews because we're catholic and apparently the Pope is opposed to birth control. So, I had lots of family, lots of love, I had a lot of life."

I nodded silently as I reached out and wrapped my hand around his.

"Then, I got cancer, and I beat it. Each time I got it, I went after it headstrong with a vengeance and came out even more grateful for life. However, I didn't see until it was too late, what it was doing to the ones that I loved. Slowly one by one, people were falling out of my life. When the cancer came back this time, I put everyone out of their misery. I cut all ties with them, and I came out here for you to put me out of my misery Meredith. I'm not going to make it, and I don't want to. I have lost my hair, I've lost my strength, I've lost who I am as a person, as a man. I don't' belong here, I don't belong stuck in this damn hospital bed, and I'm obviously not going to walk out of here. The only other way out is through the morgue! Please, just let me circle the drain already."

I sniffled and batted at the wetness in my eyes. I could almost feel the pain of everything he'd been through, and I knew pain, I knew deep pain like that. I nodded and squeezed his hand as I contemplated my answer.

"I understand you." I said softly, "I understand that you don't feel like a man. I understand that you can't do what you want and be the person you once were. I understand, it's hard. However, the cancer can take all that from you, it can take your job, it can take everything important in your life away from you...but it cannot take your character. Derek, you have an amazing character, and in my book, that is what makes you a man. I've seen other guys with great hair, and good surgical skills, and hot looks. None of them have put a smile on my face like you have in the last week. None of them have done anything to save my ass in this cutthroat career. If you want to sit here and feel sorry for yourself and tell me in detail how much you want to die, that's fine."

He looked stunned as I let go of his hand and stood up, I crossed my arms again.

"You can whine and cry all you want, but you're still not going to die on my watch. Do you have any idea how much I wish I could just pee into a bag whenever I want? Instead, I have to stop what I am doing and run to the bathroom, hoping that there is a stall available. My hair is a freaking haystack in the morning, it takes a good five minutes to just be able to run a brush through it. I don't' get people waiting on me hand and foot and asking me how I am feeling on a constant basis. So, stop your whining, and get over yourself."

"Did you seriously just tell me to get over myself?"

"Yes I did." I said through my teeth, my pager beeped ,and I glanced down at it, damn...the pit "I'll be back, and when I get back this little pity party you're throwing is going to be over. You're going to welcome me with a smile and tell me 'thank you Meredith,' and like you mean it. If I hear any more crap about dying, or so help me if you start in on Heaven, I am going to get an 18-gauge needle and stab it into my own chest!"

I didn't give him time to answer before turning around and rushing out the door towards the pit. All the while hoping like hell that I didn't just make him suicidal.