Stitches of Life

Here Comes the Flood

Chapter Forty-Six: Here Comes the Flood

"So Derek wants Alex and Izzie to move out." Meredith said as she sat down with Cristina and I, everyone filling the room to hear what Webber had to tell us.

"Well, since when does he say 'jump' and you jump?" Cristina asked without looking away from her phone.

"Well, I'm happy." Meredith shrugged.

"I'd be pissed off," Cristina told her.

"Ignore sour puss." I leaned forward to talk to Meredith around Cristina. "If you're happy then good for you. And if Derek wants Alex and Izzie to move out, that doesn't mean they have to. I mean, that is your house."

"Listen up, everyone." Webber got everyone's attention as he took the stage. "We're busy people, so I'm gonna try and be brief. I am implementing a new teaching protocol here at Seattle Grace. Now some of these rules are new, and some are old and are going to be newly enforced. First, second, and third-year residents will no longer be allowed to de facto specialize. The practice interferes with the development of a fully rounded surgical education. No more. Personal relationships, personal loyalties, and personal favorites will no longer be a factor in our training program. Attendings, you will spread your wealth of knowledge equally among all of the residents. In addition, we will refocus our attention on patient communication and bedside manner. For some of us, this means learning the lost art of humanity and compassion."

"Yang," I whispered.

"Shut up." She elbowed me in the side, shooting me a glare.

"For others, this means learning how to treat patients without becoming emotionally involved with them." Webber continued.

"Stevens." Cristina, Meredith, and I all said at once.

"This is a surgical program." Webber reminded all of us. "Psychiatry is on the fifth floor. Let's not confuse the two. In addition, residents, your interns reflect on you. If they fail, you fail. If they succeed, you succeed. Attendings, that goes for residents as well. Teach with enthusiasm. Learn with enthusiasm. We are surgeons. We cut out malignancies. Let's start at home, people."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"How long will the operation be?" My patient's sister, Jen, asked me as I helped them with the paperwork before the surgery. Since Webber wanted everyone to change up the specialty they were working with I had been given Izzie's patient, a young woman with colon cancer.

"It depends, at least a couple of hours." I told her.

"You think it could be longer?" She looked up from the paperwork and at me.

"Well, if there are complications or if the mets are more extensive-" I started to explain.

"They won't be." Shelly cut in before her sister could ask me more questions. "Jen-"

"But what if-" Jen began.

"Jen, please stop. Just call Mom and Dad, tell them two hours." Shelly instructed her sister. I watched as Jen grabbed her purse and left the room to call their parents. "Since I got cancer, my sister's only capable of talking about cancer, which is so much worse than the cancer. So I know I don't know you, but spill."

"Spill what?" I asked.

"Anything, I'm begging you, before she comes back and asks you to describe my liver cell by cell." She begged me. "Please."

"Okay," I nodded, wracking my head to come up with something that would interest her. "Do you want to hear about my crazy friends or my shitty love life?"