AThe day starts at 7:30 am. The sun is peeking out through my curtains and burning my freshly awoken eyes. The alarm is ringing in the background, signaling that it is time to get up and prepare myself for the day ahead of me. I roll out of bed and throw on a button down and jeans, knowing I will have to change out of them once I get to the hospital. My three children are up and eating breakfast with their aunts, who live with us. They are also ready for work. There is a full meal on the table, full of chocolate chip pancakes and eggs for the kids who will also drive with us to play in the hospital day care. My heart always aches when looking at my children because of how much I miss their father Derek Shepherd, my fellow surgeon and husband. We were together for over 6 years until he passed away from a fatal car accident a year ago. The feeling fades slightly but is still present as always. I look at the clock which says 8 am, time to get in the car. Once the kids are rallied and in as well as my sister in law and half-sister, we drive to the hospital. Amelia is Derek’s sister and Maggie and I share the same mother. We are all close and I rely on them for many different things. At 8:10 we arrive and Maggie takes the kids to the second floor daycare while me and Amelia go to the third floor surgery center. The halls are already buzzing, a sure sign of a busy day at work. I look at the large surgery board in the center of the floor and read my scheduled surgeries for the day. I have a colostomy at 9:45 and an esophagectomy at 1:00 with an hour break in between. Those should keep me busy. I also take into the account that the emergency room will be busy all day as usual, so I may be needed there as well. I expect a lot of running around and have no time to waste today, so I leave the board and go to the faculty lounge room where my locker is. I find my navy blue scrubs and quickly slip them on, as well as tying my hair back. I throw on a pair of comfortable sneakers and make my way to my first patient’s room. The nurses are prepping her for her colostomy. It is 9:30, I have 15 minutes to prepare for the first surgery of the day.

At 11:45, the surgery wrapped up and I quickly found the nearest on call room where I could lay down and rest my feet. They were already hurting which is the sign of a long day. As I was winding down and relaxing, my pager started buzzing. It was from Dr. Owen Hunt, a trauma surgeon who works in the ER here at Grey Sloan Memorial. I knew from this page I was needed down there and that it was serious. My pager kept vibrating which signaled the urgency of the situation. I put my shoes back on and walked very quickly towrds the first floor. The elevator had a line so I improvised and went to the stairwell. My pager kept on buzzing, triggering the rush and panic I know all too well being a doctor in a trauma center. While this always happens, there is still a level of unexpectedness and anxiety on the way to the ER. I take the stairs, two at a time and finally reach the ER. I walk through the doors and am flooded by chaos, tons of patients and doctors running around. I know immediately there must have been a bad accident. I find Owen and he rushes me to a man with his abdomen completely ripped open. I am shocked for a second but quickly pull it together to reasure the patient. I asked Owen what happened and he told me there was a ferry boat accident and many of the passengers were injured badly. Living in Washington, ferries are a common means of getting around so it is a shame that so many people were injured in this accident. By looking at his abdomen I can tell there is internal bleeding and his organs have been damaged. I have a nurse book an OR and we get moving to the third floor. The surgical team is already prepped and ready to go by the time I get there and there is no time to waste. I run to the sink and scrub my hands to sterilze any germs and put on my gown and gloves. We move the patient from the stretcher onto the table and I move right in, draining the blood and accessing the organ damage. I remember the surgery I had scheduled at 1:00 and have a nurse inform the patient we will have to move it back. This is a tough decision to make but she is not dying and this patient is, so I justify it in my mind and get back to work.

It is now 5:00 pm, I was in surgery for around 5 hours. I was able to completely drain the internal bleeding and luckily the organ damage was not completely unfixable. The man is stitched up and waiting in the ICU for his recovery and post OP instructions. I am exhausted from the day, the surgery had small complications and a few unexpected surprises throughout, but I am relieved I was able to save his life.  Even though this is almost a routine part of my job at this point and many random operations come up, I still have an adrenaline rush and feel like I could run a marathon afterwards. The excitement never goes away which is why I love my job. I check on my patients and review my schedule for the following day, knowing most of my surgeries will be pushed back now.

It is 9:00 pm. I just arrived home from the hospital after a long day’s work. Luckily there was another general surgeon on call for the night so I was able to leave early. I was able to squeeze in a quick appendectomy on a child who was about to have a nasty rupture probably followed by an infection. My own kids are home from day care as well. We ate dinner and they are in bed. I am in my room having the much needed relaxation time I look forward to every day. No one needs me right now, not my children, sisters, friends, or patients. I always get sad at this time of day because it brings me to think about my husband Derek. Being alone is a sad feeling, and I am usually distracted by it when I’m at work b because of all the surgeries and demands of the job. I catch up on research and medical journal reading before I look at the clock one last time.  It is now 11:00 pm, and I shut my light and lay down, falling into a peaceful slumber which will be over all too soon. I slowly feel my eyes getting heavy, they are suddenly a million pounds. While I am tired and exhausted from the day, there is no feeling more rewarding than knowing every day I save lives and today was another one of those days. I smile and feel fulfilled and happy, and with that I go to sleep with anticipation for what the next day will hold.