[one on one meeting with Cristina] I know your type. You're a surgical junkie.
I'm just saying, it's not going to be easy for you to be away from the OR that long.
And if you want to get back to the OR, you're gonna tell me what I need to know, aren't you?
You're right, it's not easy for me to be away from the OR. And it's not easy for me to sit in front of you, or any other authority figure for that matter, and not be able to give you the exact answer you want to hear. I'm the one with the answers. I've always been the one with the answers. But right now sir, I don't have any.
How do you keep your edge sir? Because I've watch you and you've been doing this a long time and you're clean, you're focused, you are the job, nothing gets to you. And the thing is sir, I was like that, until I got here. Until I actually started doing this job and now everything is, is fuzzy...
No see sir, this is the point. Because I can't tell you what happened in that room, I can't tell you. And before I could have, no guilt, no loyalties, no problem. Before, before I wouldn't have even been in that room. I wouldn't have gotten involved. I would have never frozen in surgery. And I would have told him what I thought he should do. I had an edge, sir. I had an edge and I've lost it, and I need it. I need it back. [tearing up] So, if you could just tell me, how you keep yours and how not to be affected, I know I could be a great surgeon. So if you could just give me the answers, I would really appreciate it.
I'll tell you, I'll tell you who cut the LVAD wires, sir, if you'll please...
No you won't, I don't want to know. Not from you. Yeah, I have the answers, but I can't tell them to you. I'm not going to be responsible for you becoming less human.
OOlivia
I didn't know what to do. I didn't think you guys would want me to go to the chief, but...
OOlivia
She's in there with him.
[They walk in to see Izzie lying in bed with Denny]
I think it was a stroke. He was prone to blood clots. A clot could have formed on his sutures, traveled to his brain, it only takes a second.
Dr. Hahn did a beautiful job on the surgery. But I don't know why I didn't think of blood clots. He died all alone. He was alone.
There is nothing you could have done.
I changed my dress three times. I wanted to look nice. I would have been here sooner. But I couldn't figure out which dress to wear.
Izzie, we shouldn't be in here.
Izz, there are things that they need, they need to move him.
You can't stay here, I know you want to...
Can you please, please, just get out? I want to be alone with Denny.
Izz, it's not Denny. The minute his heart stopped beating he stopped being Denny. Now I know you love him, but he also loved you. And a guy that loves you like that, he doesn't want you to do this to yourself. Because it's not Denny, not anymore.
An hour ago he was proposing. And now... and now he's going to the morgue. Isn't that ridiculous? Isn't it the most ridiculous piece of crap you've ever...
[Izzie starts sobbing. Alex picks her up, cradling her and sits down on a chair holding and rocking her while she sobs]
[voiceover] In the OR, time loses all meaning. In the midst of sutures, and saving lives the clock ceases to matter. 15 minutes, 15 hours — inside the OR, the best surgeons make time fly. Outside the OR, however, time takes pleasure in kicking our asses. For even the strongest of us it seems to play tricks. Slowing down... hovering... until it freezes. Leaving us stuck in a moment — unable to move in one direction or the other.
[pause, glances around] Why are you all looking at me?
Well, this is familiar territory for you.
There is nothing familiar abut this! Unfamiliar! Denny died. The man she loves, died.
Yeah, but you're all dark and twisty inside.
What, with the Alzheimers thing and the father you don't talk to.
And the tequila thing and the inappropriate men thing.
You are dark and twisty inside, Meredith, and now Izzie is dark and twisty inside.
So all of a sudden I'm the president of people with crappy lives?
Benjamin O'Leary, 32, in for the removal of a brain tumor that's pressing on his frontal temporal lobe. Clearly it's affecting his impulse control.
BBenjamin
It makes me say everything I think. Which apparently is annoying. This doctor looks annoyed anyway. Although it's hard to tell cause she always has kind of a pinched uptight look on her face. Am I annoying you?
RRuthie
You can't say it's fine. He doesn't perceive sarcasm or irony. If he's annoying you, you have to tell him.
BBenjamin
Maybe I'm not annoying her Ruthie.
Okay Benjamin, Doctor Yang, pinched and annoyed though she may be, is going to prep you for surgery today. Do you have any questions for me?
BBenjamin
[about Meredith] Is that blonde your girlfriend? 'Cause the way you keep looking at her, you might as well just mount her right here and now. [Derek and the interns are trying not to laugh.] I'm sorry was I rude?
Dr. Montgomery-Shepherd is out sick, you can cover the pit, or you can... you can tell me whose damn panties are on the bulletin board! [everybody in the background starts snickering]
[whispers to Meredith] Is it yours?
This is a hospital. People, serious work happens here. We save lives! [interns laugh] Oh, something funny? Whose're these?
This is bad. This isn't good.
You better claim them. She thinks they're mine!
Yeah I know it's one of you. It's always one of mine. Always. So, tell me. Which one of you left your damn drawers on my surgical floor?
[voiceover] Surgeons usually fantasize about wild and improbable surgeries. Someone collapses in a restaurant, we splice them open with a butter knife, replace a valve with a hollowed out stick of carrot, but every now and then some other kind of fantasy slips in. Most of our fantasies dissolve when we wake, banished to the back of our mind, but sometimes we're sure if we try hard enough, we can live the dream.
Enough! This is NOT dating. I want moonlight, and flowers, and candy and people trying to feel me up. Nobody is trying to feel me up. Nobody is even looking at me. I'm an intern, do the two of you have any idea how much effort it takes to do all this? I am waxed and plucked and I have a clean top on. And the two of you are looking at each other.
No, my fantasy is not two men looking at each other.
No talking until one of you figures out how to put on a date. I want heat! I want romance! Damn it, I want to feel like a freaking lady!
