[voiceover] In the eighth grade my English class had to read Romeo and Juliet. Then for extra credit, Mrs. Snyder made us act out all the parts. Sal Scafarillo was Romeo. As fate would have it, I was Juliet... all the other girls were jealous, but I had a slightly different take. I told Mrs. Snyder that Juliet was an idiot. For starters she falls for the one guy she knows she can't have, then she blames fate for her own bad decision. Mrs. Snyder explained to me that when fate comes into play choice sometimes goes out the window. At the ripe old age of 13, I was very clear that love, like life, is about making choices. And fate has nothing to do with it. Everyone thinks it's so romantic, Romeo and Juliet, true love, how sad. If Juliet was stupid enough to fall for the enemy, drink the bottle of poison, and go to sleep in a mausoleum, she deserved whatever she got.
[voiceover] Maybe Romeo and Juliet were fated to be together, but just for a while, and then their time passed. If they could have known that beforehand, maybe it all would have been okay. I told Mrs. Snyder that when I was grown up, I'd take fate into my own hands. I wouldn't let some guy drag me down. Mrs. Snyder said that I'd be lucky if I ever had that kind of passion with someone, and that if I did, we'd be together forever. Even now, I believe that for the most part, love is about choices. It's about putting down the poison and the dagger and making your own happy ending... most of the time. And that sometimes, despite all your best choices and all your best intentions fate wins anyway.
[voiceover] Gratitude, appreciation, giving thanks. No matter what words you use, it all means the same thing. Happy. We're supposed to be happy. Grateful for friends, family. Happy to just to be alive. Whether we like it or not.
[voiceover] Maybe we're not supposed to be happy. Maybe gratitude has nothing to do with joy. Maybe being grateful means recognizing what you have for what it is. Appreciating small victories. Admiring the struggle it takes simply to be human. Maybe we're thankful for the familiar things we know. And maybe we're thankful for the things we'll never know. At the end of the day, the fact that we have the courage to still be standing is reason enough to celebrate.
[voiceover] When you were a kid, it was Halloween candy. You hid it from your parents and ate it until you got sick. In college, it was the heavy combo of youth, tequila and well, you know. As a surgeon, you take as much of the good as you can get because it doesn't come around nearly as often as it should. 'Cause good things aren't always what they seem. Too much of anything, even love, is not always a good thing.
[voiceover] How do you know how much is too much? Too much too soon. Too much information. Too much fun. Too much love. Too much to ask... And when is it all just too much to bear?
[voiceover] Forty years ago, the Beatles asked the world a simple question: they wanted to know where all the lonely people came from. My latest theory is that a great many of the lonely people come from hospitals. More precisely, the surgical wing of hospitals. [...] As surgeons, we ignore our own needs so we can meet our patients' needs. We ignore our friends and families so we can save other people's friends and families. Which means that, at the end of the day, all we really have is ourselves. And nothing in this world can make you feel more alone than that.
[voiceover] Four hundred years ago, another well-known English guy had an opinion about being alone. John Donne. He thought we were never alone. Of course it was fancier when he said it. No man is an island entire unto himself. Boil down that island talk and he just meant that all anyone needs is someone to step in, and let us know we're not alone. And who's to say that someone can't have four legs. Someone to play with, or run around with, or just hang out.
[voiceover] It's an urban myth that suicide rates spike at the holidays. Turns out they actually go down. Experts think it's because people are less inclined to off themselves when surrounded by family. Ironically that same family togetherness is thought to be the reason that depression rates actually do spike at the holidays. [Izzie turns around and smiles at Meredith and George] Yeah, okay, Izzie doesn't count.
[voiceover] There's an old proverb that says you can't choose your family. You take what the fates hand you. And like them or not, love them or not, understand them or not, you cope. Then there's the school of thought that says the family you're born into is simply a starting point. They feed you, and clothe you, and take care of you until you're ready to go out into the world and find your tribe.
[voiceover] Fresh starts thanks to the calendar they happen every year — just set your watch to January. Our reward for surviving the holiday season is a new year, bringing on the great tradition of new year's resolutions. Put your past behind you and start over. It's hard to resist the chance of a new beginning, a chance to put the problems of last year to bed.
[voiceover] Who gets to determine when the old ends and the new begins? It's not a day on a calendar, not a birthday, not a new year. It's an event — big or small, something that changes us, ideally it gives us hope, a new way of living and looking at the world. Letting go of old habits, old memories. What's important is that we never stop believing we can have a new beginning. But it's also important to remember that amid all the crap are a few things really worth holding on to.
[voiceover] As doctors, we're trained to be skeptical, because our patients lie to us all the time. The rule is: every patient is a liar until proven honest. Lying is bad. Or so we're told constantly from birth — honesty is the best policy, the truth shall set you free, I chopped down the cherry tree, whatever. The fact is, lying is a necessity. We lie to ourselves because the truth, the truth freaking hurts.
[voiceover] No matter how hard we try to ignore it or deny it, eventually the lies fall away, whether we like it or not. But here's the truth about the truth: It hurts. So we lie.
[voiceover] In surgery, there is a red line on the floor that marks the point where the hospital goes from being accessible to being off limits to all but a special few. Crossing the line unauthorized is not tolerated. In general, lines are there for a reason. For safety. For security. For clarity. If you choose to cross the line, you pretty much do so at your own risk. So why is it, that the bigger the line, the greater the temptation to cross it?
Grey's Anatomy · 1,393 quotes
Meredith
