Medical Center.
"This isn't the same thing," Cristina mumbled, but her little eyes had already betrayed her—she was convinced.
She didn't want to be a pushover, and she definitely didn't want to be Doctor Strange.
"Go apologize to Sydney," Adam said with a grin. "I promise she won't make it awkward for you."
Cristina didn't argue back this time. She knew she'd messed up. Especially after her boyfriend, Dr. Burke, sat there looking all sad and told her, "I never understood what was wrong with dating an intern before, but now I get it. In all my years as a doctor, I've never questioned anyone in the OR. Never…"
She could hear the unspoken part loud and clear: "And I've never been treated like this either."
For a successful, top-tier doctor like him, this was a humiliation he'd never faced before. But what could he do? He was wrong. He shouldn't have let their relationship mess with his judgment at work.
Still, as the attending, he didn't have to go out of his way to apologize to a junior resident even if he screwed up. But he insisted she had to—because she was the intern.
Now that Adam and the others were saying the same thing, Cristina wasn't about to keep fighting it.
"Liz, I heard you and Dr. Montgomery did an EXIT procedure? That's so cool! 😎" Adam said, turning to Liz, who looked like she had a lot on her mind.
"Yeah," Liz replied with a half-hearted smile.
The patient was a young Black girl, unmarried and pregnant. The fetus had a tumor on its head, causing too much amniotic fluid and blocking the airway and spinal cord.
An EXIT procedure meant a partial C-section—delivering the baby halfway, pulling out the head and arms while keeping the rest of the body inside the mom, umbilical cord still attached. The tumor stopped air from getting into the lungs, so the cord kept the baby alive during the surgery to remove it. Only after that would they cut the cord.
Imagine it: a baby half-out, tiny hands resting on the mom's belly, eyes closed like it's meditating, the lower half still tucked inside the womb, holding that pose for ages. It's kinda mystical, a little creepy, and totally amazing.
Talk about a mother's greatness, right? 🙌 That kind of surgery doesn't happen every day.
"No details?" Adam asked, not wanting to dig into why Liz was feeling all moody again—he just didn't want to miss out on the juicy surgery specifics.
"What's there to say?" Liz forced a smile. "We explained the plan and asked how it sounded to them. The patient's mom, Ms. Woods, just said it sounded complicated and expensive, like she didn't even want to bother."
"She's not wrong," Adam laughed. "The more complex and rare the surgery, the pricier it gets around here."
"But shouldn't her daughter's and grandkid's health matter more?" Liz shot back. "She kept hesitating, saying she didn't want to miss more work. I get it—life's tough—but at a time like this, shouldn't the big stuff come first?"
"Heh," Adam chuckled and shook his head. "You saying that just proves you don't really get what 'tough' means. You think you do, but you don't."
In Dream of the Red Chamber, when Granny Liu first visits the Jia family, she's there because she's flat-out broke. If she doesn't figure something out, her family's literally going to starve. She meets Fengjie, who complains about how tough things are for the Jia household despite their fancy exterior. Granny Liu just smiles and says, "Oh, we know tough too~ But even a skinny camel's bigger than a horse. One of your stray hairs is thicker than our waists!"
Fengjie ends up giving her twenty taels of silver, saying, "Take it if you don't mind it's not much—it was supposed to be for the maids' clothes." Granny Liu nearly faints from the windfall. She thought there was no hope after hearing Fengjie's sob story, but bam—twenty taels! That's enough for her family of four to live on for a whole year.
Here's the thing: one person's "tough" is not eating to survive. Another's is skipping a meal or not making the maids a new dress. Both are "tough," sure.
Fengjie wasn't lying either—she genuinely thought the Jia family was struggling, dipping into her dowry to keep things afloat.
So when Liz kept going on about "I know the mom's got it hard, she has to work," it felt to Adam like Fengjie telling Granny Liu, "Oh, I totally get it, we're all struggling!" True for both, but worlds apart.
A Black teenage girl, about to be a single mom. Her single mom worried the surgery's too complicated, too pricey, and didn't want to miss a single shift at work. Doesn't get more real than that, does it? 😅
If she doesn't earn, who's feeding her daughter and granddaughter? Who's paying the hospital bills? American hospitals aren't charities—if you can't pay, they'll "kindly" discharge you or transfer you out, no matter what's wrong. Transfer where? Back home to fend for yourself.
"I do know…" Liz said, not ready to back down.
"Whether you know or not," Adam cut in, "she ended up agreeing to the surgery for her daughter, right?"
"Yeah, because Dr. Montgomery waived the fees," Liz said, raising her voice.
"Oh, nice!" Adam grinned.
As a newly recruited top doctor, Montgomery came with primo perks—not just a fancy office, but prestige. Yup, face matters in the U.S. too! Doctors like Montgomery get a yearly quota to waive patient fees. Why? To make them look good.
Picture it: a surgery that costs a fortune, and they just smile and say, "Don't worry, it's on me." One second you're in hell, the next you're in heaven. How badass is that? 😎 How much clout does that give you?
Patients and families look at a doctor like that and think, "Is this God?" And for a mortal doctor, doesn't that feel pretty darn satisfying? You bet it does!
"If it weren't for that, who knows if she'd have agreed," Liz muttered, pursing her lips.
"Nah," Adam said with a smile. "Even without the waiver, even if she griped about the cost, I bet she'd have said yes in the end."
"I believe that too," Meredith chimed in.
"Me too," George said, raising his hand.
"Don't look at me," Cristina said, half-leaning on a gurney, lost in thought. When Liz and the others glanced her way, she shrugged. "Mother's love is the greatest. No argument there."
"Wanna hit Joe's Bar for a drink? The strike stuff's calmed down for now," Meredith suggested.
"Nah," Adam shook his head. "I'm sticking around the hospital till this mess is over. Gotta save a few more people—the temp nurses are too shaky for my liking."
"Then we'll go!" Meredith said, dragging Cristina and the others out.
"You guys might wanna skip it too," Adam called after them. "The nurses are all over there, and things could get messy after a few drinks. Uh, George, you're fine to go, though."
"Of course, Nurse George," Cristina teased.
"What'd you say?!" George exploded, chasing after her, fuming.
Sure, he'd been waving his "I'm a nurse and proud" sign during the strike, but call him a nurse and he'd lose it. Deep down, he still looked down on them, huh?
The group laughed and bickered as they left. Adam shook his head and turned to do his rounds.
Everything's got two sides.
With the nurses on strike, saving people got trickier. But on the flip side, patients who'd normally just need a nurse's care? Under these temps, one slip-up and they could get worse—or even critical.
Adam figured he could do more here.
---
belamy20