Medical Center
Green Clinic
"Adam, you're taking on Mrs. Kimberly Griswold's case," Leonard said with a nod. "She's got a history of heart issues and has had multiple surgeries here. This time, she's in for a coronary bypass."
"Him? Isn't he a little young for that?" The old woman on the bed paused mid-lipstick application, peering at Adam through her handheld mirror. She frowned, sizing him up. "Is he actually a doctor? Or some actor? You're not filming a TV show here, are you? I mean, I love watching Our Days—Dr. Drake Lamoray is adorable—but I need a real doctor right now. I wouldn't trust Lamoray to treat me…"
"Kimberly, let the doctors do their job," the elderly man standing beside her cut in.
She shot her husband a glare that could've melted steel. He clammed up instantly.
"Mrs. Griswold," Leonard said with a reassuring smile, "Dr. Duncan here is our top intern—and honestly, the best in the whole country. You're in good hands with him."
"Best or not, he's still an intern," she muttered, pursing her lips.
Leonard turned to Adam. "Anything special to note about Mrs. Griswold's surgery?"
Adam nodded confidently. "Since she's had multiple heart surgeries, there's a lot of scar tissue, and her heart's too weak to restart if we stop it. So, we'll stabilize the area we're working on, use local anesthesia, and let the rest of her heart keep beating."
"Nice work," Leonard said, grinning. "Take her for a nuclear scan first. If everything checks out, we'll do the surgery this afternoon."
"Yes, Dr. Green," Adam replied with a quick nod.
"This room's kinda small," Mrs. Griswold grumbled. "And it's not as bright as last time. Allen, grab me a pillow to lean on! The water's lukewarm—add some ice. Open the curtains; it's stuffy in here. What's this? Where's that new nightgown I bought? Hand me some tissues—no, wait, hospitals are full of germs. Get the hand sanitizer from my suitcase instead."
Once Leonard left, she started barking orders at her poor husband, Allen, like he was her personal assistant.
Watching this, Adam couldn't help but think of The Big Bang Theory—Amy's dad sneaking around to avoid her mom, even making that hilarious "hanging himself" face behind her back. It didn't show much, but you could feel it. And now? This was the full-on, live-action version.
Henpecked husbands are universal, huh? Adam thought with a smirk.
"Mrs. Griswold, ready for that nuclear scan?" he asked, throwing a sympathetic glance at Allen as he interrupted her tirade.
"Fine, whatever," she said with a shrug.
Adam wheeled her toward the scan room, Allen trailing behind.
"Allen, watch where you're going—you're bumping my chair!"
"Sorry," he mumbled.
"Allen, hold my purse properly!"
"Got it."
"Don't rummage through it!"
"Okay."
When they reached the scan room, the staff took over the wheelchair.
"Phew," Allen let out a long breath, turning to Adam. "She's never heard of 'please' or 'thank you,' you know."
Adam just smiled, keeping it neutral.
But Allen wasn't done. "For years, I've tried to get her to chill out, but she just keeps yapping. Everyone thought she wouldn't make it past her first surgery. Three operations and ten years later, here she is, still kicking. Heh…" He chuckled, but it was the tired, helpless kind. Adam noticed him glance back nervously, like he was scared she'd overhear.
"They say it's a miracle she's still alive…"
"What do you think?" Adam cut in.
"Uh, well, vows say 'in sickness and in health,' right?" Allen gave a self-deprecating laugh.
"Mr. Griswold, why don't you take a break for a bit?" Adam suggested. "We'll catch up later."
"Oh, uh, sure." Allen blinked, realizing he might've overshared with his wife's doctor, and nodded quickly.
Adam gave him a friendly smile and headed off. The staff would let him know when the scan was done.
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"Dr. Duncan!" A young nurse waved him over.
"Hey, Mary, what's up?" Adam asked, strolling up with a grin.
"You haven't heard?" She leaned in, eyes sparkling with gossip. "We've got a pregnant man in the hospital. Everyone's rushing over to gawk!"
"A man? Pregnant?" Adam laughed, then paused, thinking. "Unless…"
"It's real!" Mary insisted. "His belly's as big as his wife's, and the pregnancy test came back positive!"
"One of Dr. Yang's cases?" Adam guessed. Only something that weird would get Cristina so fired up.
"Nope," Mary said, shaking her head. "Get this: the intern at registration sent him straight to psych without even checking him out. Then Dr. Yang swooped in, snatched him from psych, and now psych's docs are fighting to get him back. It's a total tug-of-war!"
"Which room?" Adam's curiosity piqued.
"Room 12," Mary said instantly.
"Thanks, Mary! I owe you a treat next time," Adam said with a laugh, heading off as she beamed at him.
Click! Click!
By the time Adam got to Room 12, a crowd of doctors and nurses had already gathered outside, craning their necks to peek in. Camera shutters snapped from inside.
Adam was about to push through when Cristina stormed out, brushing past him with an eye roll and a scowl, clutching her beeping pager. Clearly, someone needed her now.
He squeezed through the crowd and stepped inside. On the bed lay a young guy, his belly swollen like a woman about to pop. Medical staff were snapping photos, while Izzie and Meredith flanked him, leaning into the lens with practiced smiles.
"Steven, run a full workup, including tumor tests," Dr. Bailey barked, then turned. "Grey, your pager's going off—move it!"
As the two scurried off, Bailey casually grabbed a ruler and measured the man's belly, all business. When the camera clicked again, she smoothly turned her head, locking into a pro-level pose—perfectly natural, perfectly framed.
Izzie and Meredith's stiff smiles didn't stand a chance against that level of skill.
Adam couldn't help but grin. These photos—thanks to the guy's bizarre "pregnancy"—were guaranteed to land in the hospital's medical journal, case reports, maybe even the annual conference. It was a golden ticket to shine in the medical world.
Seeing Bailey, the moral rock of the hospital, pull off such a slick move with that adorable contrast? Priceless.