Grey's Anatomy (2005–…): Season 14, Episode 17 - One Day Like This - full transcript

April treats a rabbi who challenges her crisis of faith and Meredith treats a transplant surgeon from another hospital.

24 hours.

1,440 minutes.

86,400 seconds.

That's all it takes for a patient

to go from sick to healthy,

from hopeful to dire...

- Oh!
- Sun's up, Doc. I'm outta here.

Let you sleep
as long as I could.

Oh, so ridic.

Ja, ja, ich komme...
I'm coming.

Okay, okay, okay,
keep your pants on...



♪ I want you closer to me ♪

They're on.

Oh, my God!

Oh! Hi!

One day can bring you back
from the brink...

change your entire life
with one heartbeat,

one single breath.

What the hell are you doing here?

♪ Say my name ♪

It's why doctors
watch you like a hawk,

hold you for observation.

Hey, grab this for me?
I'll be right there.

Hey, you break it,
you buy it.

It's why we behave as if
your every move, every sound...



Can I help you, doctor...

Uh, Dr. Marsh.
No, I'm fine, I'm good.

I'm great.

Just, um...
I had a kidney transplant.

Every input...

I can see that.
Congratulations.

I can also see your ride
is leaving without you.

And output.

No, when I said I had
a kidney transplant,

I meant I had a... kidney transplant.

Just a little one.
I'm five-weeks post-op,

and I'm... I'm great. I'm just...

is life or death.

Dr. Marsh!
Can I get a gurney over here?!

I got it!

Because it is.

*GREY'S ANATOMY*
Season 14 Episode 17

Episode Title: "One Day Like This"

Okay, I'm not finding you
in the system, Mr. Zigler.

Possibly because my last name
is Rigler, with an R.

Ah. I'm sorry.

It happens to the best of us,
Dr. Zepner?

Ah, here you are.
Okay.

You were here a week ago
with diverticulitis.

- Yeah.
- You saw Dr. Bailey.

Yeah, it's the third time
it happened to me,

and she gave me antibiotics...
each time.

She didn't suggest surgery?

Well, she said that
antibiotics would be

the less-invasive option,
and I really wanted to go

on my synagogue's youth trip.

You a little old for that?

I'm a rabbi,
and I've been around long enough

to know you don't stick a junior rabbi

with a bunch of hormonal teens
on a weekend trip.

Anyway, I started feeling like
I was coming down with something,

and... and then I got this rash.

Which I thought it would get
better in a few days,

but... it got worse...
a lot... a lot worse.

- Can I take a look?
- Yeah.

Here we go.

Yeah.

Okay.

- O... kay.
- Yeah.

All right.

Page Dr. Avery, and tell
the burn unit we're on our way.

So, tell me.

Tell you what?

Whatever it is that
you wanted to say,

but you couldn't say
in an e-mail or over the phone,

that you had to show up at my
door in the middle of the night.

I mean, it must be...

Is it Amelia's tumor?

No, no, it's nothing like that.

Oh, I... Is she pregnant?

Owen, are you going back to Iraq?

Will you just tell me what it is?
I can't take it.

Amelia and I are done.

We're done, Teddy.

So, for the first time,
you and me...

there's nothing standing in our way.

Okay. So, I said something,

so you gotta say
something, so...

Go ahead... ask.

I wasn't going to.

You want to know
why I was operating

not six weeks
post-kidney-transplant.

You're dying to know,
but you're too polite to ask, so ask.

I'm not polite.

- It's none of my business.
- Mm-hmm.

The thought did cross
my mind.

Well, you know what they say...

doctors make the worst patients.

I'm rejecting it, aren't I?

That's what's happening...

I'm rejecting my kidney,
or I formed a clot.

Have you had any other symptoms...

oliguria, nausea, vomiting?

Nothing. Up until
a few hours ago, I was fine.

A few hours ago, you were
supposed to be on medical leave.

I was, but my pain's
been at a consistent 3,

and I've been off narcotics
for weeks.

What's your
immunosuppressive regimen?

Tacro, azathioprine,

and I stopped prednisone
post-op day 4.

Any mTOR inhibitors?

No. I'm keeping that bullet
in the chamber.

For the next time
you defy doctors' orders

and perform an organ recovery
that someone else could've done?

I mean, come on.
You cannot expect surgeons

to just sit on the sidelines
watching surgeries go by.

It's not gonna happen.

I donated half of my liver.
I spent the month in a bed.

Yeah, and I bet you hated
every second of it.

Vicki Greenberg.

59 years old, fantastic mom,
even better grandmother.

She can decoupage like
a rock star

and makes a ridiculously
good salmon.

Your favorite patient.

Six years she's been
waiting for that liver.

Me? I was on dialysis for
a month when I got my kidney.

A month is hell, but it's nothing.

For six years, Vicki's been
miserable, dying.

You think I was gonna leave that
in anyone else's hands but mine?

- No.
- No.

So I came back a week early, and
I was fine until I wasn't.

Just... tell me I didn't screw
this up, Dr. Grey.

Tell me I'm not gonna lose
this kidney.

Well, we have to wait
for your labs to come back.

I'll do an ultrasound,
and let's just not get ahead of ourselves.

Too late.

Oh. Hey.
What's the good word, Doc?

I'm not making
my synagogue trip, am I?

Which means someone's
gonna get pregnant, or drunk...

probably both.

- Rabbi...
- Oh, no, please... Eli.

I mean, you're shellacking
half my body in Vaseline.

I think we can dispense
with the formalities.

Eli, you have
Toxic Epidermal Necrolysis,

also known as TEN.

It's a reaction to the
antibiotics you were prescribed.

It's what's causing your skin
to separate from itself.

That sounds... about as
disgusting as it looks.

I-I thought I took the
antibiotics as prescribed.

You did. TEN is something that
just happens to some patients.

Nobody's really sure why.

Hard to believe
that something this disgusting

just... happens.

Dr. Kepner and I are gonna do
our very best

to keep you comfortable

and prevent this thing
from progressing any further.

Oh, good.
'Cause I gotta be honest...

this is not my best look.

You sure there's no one
we can call?

- A family member...
- Oh, my wife, Elyse. She's on a train.

She's on her way back
from visiting her mother.

I don't really...
want to worry her.

Eli...

You're saying worry her.

Couldn't hurt
to have her company is all.

How is he?

You know the expression
"makes his flesh crawl"?

Yeah, he's kind of like that,

except in a hundred times more pain.

Oh.
He had diverticulitis.

I gave him antibiotics...

For the third time. You didn't want to...

I don't know...
try something different?

I made a judgment call
based on the standard of care.

You can take antibiotics
a dozen times and no reaction.

It's random. It's awful, but it's random.

You didn't do anything wrong.

Look, I-I can take over from here.

- He was my patient.
- No, no. No way.

No, I'm not gonna let you go in
there and tell him you screwed up

and then sit by his bedside
and make it all about you.

- April.
- April, you know that's not fair.

All right? Any one of us
could've done the same thing.

Yeah, but we didn't,
and she did,

and I'm not about to let her sit vigil

while he circles the drain.

I know you're going
through something.

I want to help. I truly do.

- But that doesn't mean you...
- This has nothing to do with me, Jackson.

I am just trying to
clean up her mess.

We've all seen his labs.
He has a SCORTEN of 5.

We can give him as much care as
we want,

but he'll be lucky if
he makes it through the night.

And if he doesn't,
that's on her.

Fair or not.

No thrombosis in the renal
artery. That's good.

No hydronephrosis.

No fluid collections, no obstructions,

- cysts, abscesses...
- Yeah.

Looks good.

One hurdle down, one more to go.

Oh, and Mayo called and said
that Vicki's transplant surgery

is going off without a hitch.

She's gonna give me so much crap
for bailing on her surgery.

Well, she'll live... quite literally.

So when do I get my labs back?

Soon.

Well, you don't suppose
slipping a cool $20

to the boys down at the lab
would help speed this up,

- do you?
- I'm afraid not.

How 'bout a $50?

How's your pain?

Me? I'm all good. Perfect,
painless, Marathon ready,

or at least a strong 1OK.

Mm-hmm.
How'd it work out for you

last time you pretended
you were fine?

That's, uh...
That's a good point.

I'd say I'm about a 3, 3 1/2,

but I'm gonna muscle through.

Is this you playing it tough?

Because you just did
a liver recovery

5 weeks post-op
from your own surgery.

No, no, no, no.
This is me

trying to avoid
an unnecessary addiction

to opioids, if I can help it.

Slippery slope and all.

Great. As soon as those labs
come in, I'm gonna let you know.

This is the part where you
leave me, sad and alone,

leaving me no choice
but to contemplate

my dark, miserable, kidney-less
future, so sad and so alone?

You're the one who said you
didn't want to call any family.

That is true. That's because
Charlotte is a 16-year-old

who'll fail calculus
if she misses her mid-term,

and I am way too math-dumb to
pull her out of that hole.

And yet you're a transplant surgeon.

Oh, yeah. World class.

You felt the need to add that?

When I'm talking to Harper Avery-winning
Meredith Grey, yeah, I do.

See? You don't even need
any visitors.

You have so much Internet

stalking to do.

I really do need
to go check on my patients.

W-Well, uh, tell me about them.

Traditional stuff or another
abdominal-wall transplant?

I am doing two lap choles

and repairing a transected biliary duct.

Mm. How thin is the duct?

2 millimeters.

- Damn.
- Right?

So, is, uh... is Charlotte
your daughter, or...?

Uh, my niece. Uh, Erica, my sister,

she's a... she's a limited person.

She's got a gig heart
and good intentions,

just zero follow-through.

Well, that's polite of you.

Oh, you want the truth?

Always.

Uh...

My selfish little sister
did one thing right

in her selfish little life,

and then she crapped all over that,

so I stepped up.

I took Charlotte in, and...

it's the best thing I ever did.

What about you? You got kids,
nieces, pets, stowaways?

What are we talking about here?

- I do. I have three kids.
- Wow.

And an occasional stowaway.

- I...
- What's the matter?

I'm just looking for your
superhero cape is all.

- I'm not seeing it.
- I have a lot of help.

Oh, do you? What's that like?

Your kids have a dad?

They did.

All right, million-dollar question...

what would you do
if you weren't a doctor?

I... There is nothing I would rather be.

No, I mean, what if
you couldn't be a doctor?

What then? What's your Plan B?

There's no Plan B.

There really hasn't ever

- been a Plan B.
- So, wait, wait.

You had visions
of cutting people's bowels open

straight out of the womb, and it's
been smooth sailing ever since?

- Really?
- Yes. Well, there was, like,

a switch from neuro to general,

- but pretty much, yeah.
- Wow. That is...

Crazy.

Well, I was gonna say amazing,
but, yeah, "crazy" will do.

So, what about you?
You just woke up one morning

and couldn't decide whether you
wanted to make French toast

or become a transplant surgeon?

I wasn't exactly a legacy,
if that's what you mean.

First one in my family to go
to college, actually.

And you work at one of the best
hospitals in the world.

Your mother must be
so disappointed.

Well, I'd like to think
she'd be a little proud, yeah.

When did she pass?

- I was 15.
- Oh.

- Tough age.
- Yeah, she was... she was kind.

And strange.

And a terrible dresser.

Impossibly smart.

She had heart failure.

She was on a list a long time.

Hearts are hard to come by.

Kidneys aren't as easy
as you'd think, either.

No, they're not.

So she's why you decided to
became a transplant surgeon?

No, I-I loved cardio, I loved neuro,

I loved all of it, really.

I just... I just couldn't sit still.

Transplant surgeons, you're
always in another city...

in another country, if you're lucky.

- Plus, I like to fly.
- Mnh.

- What? Not a fan?
- No.

So, where do you keep it?

Keep what?

Your Harper Avery.

Okay, I just... I really...

Nick, I have patients.

Is it dead center on the mantel?
Fancy glass case in the study?

What, did you just chuck it
in some closet somewhere?

Tell me, tell me, tell me.
What, is it a hat rack?

As soon as your labs come in,

I will come down
and let you know.

- Okay.
- Okay?

Just one last question.

Just answer me this, Dr. Grey...

Meredith.

Meredith.

Do you think I'm gonna lose this kidney?

Your ultrasound looked great,

but until your other labs come back,

there's no way
to definitively know...

Yeah. Well, I'm asking what you think.

I don't know.

Are you good there?

You know, it's possible
I imagined this moment once...

okay, a hundred times... but it
didn't ever involve laughing.

You're in my bed, in Germany.

I mean, you are in my bed,
in Germany.

Owen Hunt, naked, in my bed.

- Yeah, yeah. I don't even like Germany.
- Yeah, me neither!

I know I should ask you why
you're here, but...

- I told you.
- It's just...

You imagined this, too?

I imagined this, too.

No, absolutely not.

When are you gonna admit
that you're wrong?

- It was a CABG.
- It was a coronary artery dissection.

CABG.
It was a freakin' CABG.

I said that I would take the
coronary artery dissection.

What was that guy?

He was that annoying guy
with the...

Ratliff, with the...

Tattoo of Jim Morrison
on his shoulder.

Right, I was prepping him,
and then you walked in

and started barking
like some crazed sea lion,

and you told Sergeant Teller
to take the dissection,

and I ended up with the CABG.

Oh, oh, oh! And then, um...

you made me assist
because you said

that I put you in the minors when
you should've been in the majors.

Okay, I have never used a
baseball metaphor in my life.

Ooh! You were pissed,
but you were excellent.

I was.

And you were
a sufficient assist.

- Sufficient.
- Yeah.

What do you want me to say?
That you were flawless and brilliant

and you anticipated
my every move

and I knew the moment that we
shared that O.R...

that I wanted to do that
the rest of my life?

I did.

I mean,
with you assisting me,

but, you know,
it's the same thing.

You are such a slob.

And you're beautiful.

Oh, my God.

This, right here,
when it snows, this is...

this is the one time
I really love this place.

You remember when you made it
snow in the desert

for our guys in the 54th?

You blindfolded them,
and you put their face

up to the machine so they could
feel it before it melted?

It made them happy.

You were so good at that.

All the grand gestures,

you did it better
than anyone else I know.

Owen, what are you doing here?

I told you.

No, I mean...

I mean, is... is this it?

Right here, this? Is this...

I mean...

Are you getting on a plane
tomorrow, and... and... and...

and we have this...

As amazing as this is, this isn't...

What?

- This isn't real.
- Why can't it be?

Because I live a million miles
and time zones away,

and I have a big life here, Owen.

Yeah, but you hate Germany, so...

Yeah, but I love my job,
and I love my friends.

And there's this restaurant
on the corner, and they know me,

and they make this roast chicken...

I mean, the best roasted chicken
that I've ever tasted before.

And I'm opening up
a clinic for refugees,

and I have the finances
and the resources,

and it's finally,
finally happening.

And I... I have made a life here
for myself, and...

And why can't I be part of that?

Do you want to be a part of it?

I mean,
you would move to Germany?

Why not? I mean,
I'm a trauma surgeon.

I could work with you...

- For me.
- For you.

Or... Or I could find a job
at a different hospital,

if that's not what you want.

I can move here
and be with you, and...

And you'd be leaving Megan
behind and your mom.

Or you could come back to Seattle.

Pierce is unreal,
and the two of you together...

Or we could half and half
or go to Canada.

- Canada.
- Or I don't know. I don't know.

I haven't figured that
all out yet, but I just know...

I just know that
I want to be with you.

I just know that I want you.

This is not some grand gesture
or some... some whimsical...

Yeah. Yeah, it is fast,

and I haven't figured out
all the moves,

but that doesn't make this
any less...

I am in love with you... Teddy.

I realized I loved you
and how long I've loved you.

So I got on a plane.

You got on a plane.

Yeah.

I got on a plane.

Stay a few days.

I'll show you around the hospital, and...

we can go hiking
around Bismarck Tower.

You can show me
your roasted chicken place.

Yeah, back off.
That place is all mine.

So, can you? Stay?

Sure. I'll make a couple calls.
Kepner can take my shifts.

Sure. I mean, just like that, sure.

Teddy, I told you.

Tell me this doesn't scare you.

Why should it?

You know me. I know you.

This has been...

We know we work.

What if it doesn't?

Can't think like that.

Yeah, but I do.
You know I do.

You know everything
about me.

You're my first call in a crisis,

or when I've just done the most
perfect LIMA to LAD anastomosis,

and you just...
you make things real and better,

and... you tell me
when I'm being an ass.

Yeah, I know.
You're my best friend, Owen.

Isn't that what they say?

You should marry
your best friend?

Oh, really?
So now we're getting married?

No, I... What I...

You just got out of a marriage.

That led me to you.

Teddy, I get that you're scared,

but there's no... that's not a reason...

Wait. What do you mean,
"led me to you"?

Well, I just mean, Amelia, she...

Listen...

marrying Amelia was a mistake.

You said it yourself.

It was not a marriage, and
she and I, we can both admit that.

She's... Amelia's a gambler.

Or she was a gambler.

It's hard to tell the difference
between Tumor Amelia

and Amelia Amelia,
but we took a gamble,

and it fell apart because
it wasn't meant...

My point is, she was right.

Being here with you, it makes
all the sense in the world.

Wait. She said that?

Well, not in so many... She just...

Listen, she knows me, and she
knows how much you mean to me,

so when she said it, it...
it... it just made sense.

All I'm trying to say is,

she is the one who pointed out

that there's always been
something between us,

and she was right, so I...

So you got on a plane to me.

Yes.

Teddy...

Teddy, there's no reason to make this...

Wait.

What were you... What were you
doing when she said this?

- Uh...
- Owen?

Owen.

You were sleeping with her.

Teddy...

When? When did she say this?

Last night.

I was a near-impossible match,
you know.

I took the one kidney in
my world someone could offer...

my best friend.

If I have to look him in the eye
and tell him I blew it...

But you can't think like that.

I can't help it.

We won't know until we know.

I used to think shoe salesman...
for my Plan B.

You have a thing for feet?

- What, deal-breaker?
- I mean, kind of, yeah.

There's no world
in which a shoe salesman

comes home at night
and thinks about shoes.

He goes to work, he deals with feet

and weird people all day,
but, hell, so do we.

Except what's the worst thing
he can cause?

Blisters? Bad arch support?

That job is the epitome
of "No Harm, No Foul."

Plus, actual vacation time.

- "Used to think."
- What's that?

You said you used to think

that's what
you would do for a living.

That's just what I consider when
a patient's lung craps out on me

or the plane lands five minutes
too late to recover an organ.

But that's not the fantasy.

- No.
- So what is?

Your turn.

My turn? I'm just here to listen.

No, you're not.

- I'm not?
- No.

Okay. Well, there was one time

when I thought I would be
working at the multiplex

with my best friend Cristina,
but that was just...

Your version of shoe salesman.

More like hospital-mandated
therapy, but...

Ooh! Now we're getting
to the good stuff.

But you don't have an answer,
do you?

You don't know what you would do
if you weren't a doctor.

My dad took us
out to the Boundary Waters.

- You know them?
- No.

Right on the edge,
between Minnesota and Canada.

These huge stretches of lake.

You have to portage your canoes
on your shoulders for miles.

Every morning, my dad would
take me out in a canoe.

We'd be up so early,

you could see the cobwebs
reflecting off the reeds.

And just dead, eerie,
incredible silence.

My dad would get this look
on his face.

If I couldn't be a doctor,
I'd go sit in that canoe

until I felt... even for a second...

what he was feeling.

Or you know what? Screw it.

I'll be a shoe salesman.
That's where it's at.

Fewer mosquitoes, too.

Hey, it's your turn.

I just got way too personal
on our first date,

- so your turn.
- Excuse me?

Joking. That was me making a joke.

I am your doctor.

Hey, thank God for that, right?

Listen, the reality is, as soon
as I'm good to go here,

I'm on a plane back to Minnesota.

Mayo's got my back.
You never have to see me again.

Mm. Whew.

So what's a little deep, dark
confession amongst friends?

Okay.

Um...

Have you ever been to Sardinia?

- Sardinia.
- Mm.

Nude beach and a bottle of wine.

Helluva party.
Excellent choice.

So, when I was young,

my girlfriend and I stayed
in this tiny village.

And I think we paid this woman like $2

to crash at her house
and drink all of her wine.

And she was 97.

Her sister was 101.

The neighbor was 99.

And they grew their own food,
and they wandered

these little cobblestone streets
with chickens to the beaches.

Wait. I'm sorry. Did the
chickens wander on the beach,

- or how does that work?
- No, the people...

these incredible people...

who were laughing and fighting
with the people they loved,

and no one was in any rush.

No one had anywhere to go.

And they were happy.

So you want to go live
with the chickens

and the happy people?

- Yes.
- Okay.

Me and my kids.

And my sisters can come
because they can do the cooking

and the growing because,
I mean, please.

And everyone's already living

till they were
a hundred years old, right?

There's no cancer or Alzheimer's,

so there's no lives for me
to save, and...

no one will die on my watch.

Sounds pretty good.

Just... me and my kids and a hammock

and a stack of books
that I'll buy

with no intention of ever reading.

Mm. In this scenario, I don't
suppose there's any room

on that hammock for someone
about your age?

Brilliant but not too brilliant,

with one...
debatably functioning kidney?

I mean, unless you wanna lug
a canoe over your head with me?

'Cause I'm game either way.

Your labs.

They're what?

- Dr. Grey?
- Damn it.

Tell me.

They're inconclusive.

- Meredith...
- Um... okay.

Wait.

The biopsy is normal.

Your bloodwork is showing
a normal white count.

- What about my GFR?
- It's down.

- Creatinine?
- It's doubled.

But you also have proteinuria.

Something isn't making sense.

I can't lose my kidney,
Meredith, please.

There it is. You have a clot
in your renal vein.

We need to get him
up to the O.R. right now.

Nothing showed up on
the ultrasound before. Why not?

Because the flow to the vein
is so low, but it makes sense.

You were on that plane.
You were standing in that O.R.

Any one of these could've caused a DVT

to lodge itself in your renal vein.

Let's go, come on!
We gotta go, guys!

- Meredith...
- Nick, listen,

you need an embolectomy right now

if I'm gonna save this kidney.

Third drawer, green cabinet.

- Nick, I got this.
- No, no, no, no.

Third drawer, green cabinet.

That's where
the deed to the house is

and the passcodes for
Charlotte's college fund.

She's got to go to college.

I don't care for what,
but she's gotta go.

She's kind and
strong and beautiful,

and none of that will matter

if she can't string together
a decent sentence.

And tell her to stay the hell
away from drugs.

Her mother never could,
and it ruined her.

If she wants to drink, drink,

but there's an A.A. book
in her college folder, too,

just in case. Tell her, Meredith.

Stay with me, Nick.

Tell her for me, Meredith, please.

You'll tell her yourself.

Let's go!

Elyse.

W... Elyse?

- Eli.
- Elyse?

Your wife, Elyse, is on her way.

- Just hang in there, Eli.
- Okay.

I'm gonna turn up the bed warmer
to encourage wound healing.

Huh? You're gonna make it hotter?

I'm sorry. Um...

I can draw up some morphine.

- No, no, no, no!
- I don't want any pain meds.

I don't want to be loopy.

You couldn't just pretend?

I'm sorry?

I think you're my wife for two seconds.

You couldn't just, you know,
roll with it?

Eli, I can tell you're in
a great deal of pain...

- You worry too much.
- Anybody ever tell you that?

Look, I'll sign whatever
papers you want.

No morphine, no more tubes.
Just... Okay?

Until my wife, Elyse,
gets here, all right?

- Okay, okay.
- Okay, good.

Dr. Bailey's hovering.

Unless I'm imagining that, too.

- I'm sorry about that.
- She can come in if she wants.

She's fine where she is.

You don't like her.

She's my boss.

She's a good one, I can tell.

She was a good doctor to me, too.

You don't think so?

Well, she prescribed the antibiotics,

- and now the antibiotics...
- Yeah, she was trying to save me

from an unnecessary surgery.

She made a mistake.

Is that what you're saying?

Had you had the surgery...

I wouldn't be
raw hamburger right now?

Okay. So you're mad at her,

- hmm?
- Okay, I'm sorry, I...

I didn't mean for you...
That was unprofessional of me.

- I apologize.
- Okay. So...

Spill.

Come on. Give me the goods.

Tell me the dirt,
tell me the skinny.

Dr. Kepner.

You really think I can't tell
when someone's in pain, too?

That's not...

You don't have to worry
about that...

So, what, I should worry
about my wife not getting here

before I pass out?
Or the fact that my skin

is... giving up being actual,
you know, skin?

I can give you morphine

- and...
- No, no, listen, listen, the Talmud says

if someone is sick or in need

and you can take away
1/60th of their pain,

then that's goodness.
That's God.

You can't take away
a 60th of something

if you don't know what it is.

That's not your job.

It is exactly my job,

and I prefer to do it
till the bitter end.

Come on. You're not gonna deny
a dying man's wish?

- You're not...
- Aren't I?

Dr. Kepner, I've held enough
dying men's hands in my career.

I know it's mine this time.

I am sorry, Eli.

Don't be sorry.
You're doing your job.

Just let me do mine.

I'm not...

I...

I'm fine.

I don't... I don't need anything.

- What?
- You're a terrible liar. I like that.

All right, fine.

What's that saying?

"If... If I'm not for myself,
who will be for me?"

- Mm-hmm.
- Well, I am

taking care of myself, for once.
That's all.

Oh, and you realize that
that phrase

is not an invitation
for narcissism, right?

You're calling me a narcissist?

Sure you don't want more pain meds?

- It'll knock you right out.
- I don't blame you.

You know, it's human nature.

You face enough hardship,
then you can't help but think

that you're being punished,

that
you did something to deserve it.

I did nothing to deserve...

Okay. My whole life,
I followed His rules.

I studied, I believed,

I practiced what I preached.

I did every single thing
He asked of me.

And that guarantees you...
what?

Excuse me?

Well, where... where...
where is the guarantee?

In the sequel? 'Cause, I have to admit,

I'm not as up on that
as I used to be.

If by the sequel,
you mean the

- New Testament, that's pretty funny.
- No, no, where... where is it written

exactly that
if you do this or that,

that everything in your life's
gonna be good, hmm?

Nowhere, in any faith,
is there a guarantee.

I'm not asking for everything
to be good all the time.

- But fair... I think that I...
- Fair?

Was it fair when Isaac went blind

and then his child betrayed him?

And where was the fairness
when Sara had to wait 99 years

before she had a child,
and God said, "Sacrifice him"?

And Moses couldn't even get
past the bouncer

to the Promised Land.

And like I said,
I'm not up on the sequel,

but from what I hear,
Jesus got a raw deal.

- Oh, I...
- Nobody in the Bible

lived a life free of suffering
or injustice,

or it wouldn't have been a best seller.

And if they lived lives like that,

why should ours be diff...
different?

Here we go.

Now, if people only believed
in God when things were good,

I guarantee you,
after the Holocaust,

not a single Jew
would be a believer.

Okay. Well, see,

now you mention
the Holocaust,

and anything
I say after that makes me...

- A narcissist?
- I was gonna say jackass, but...

Okay, come on.

Deep breath. Please, deep breath.

There you go.

- Mm. Mm-hmm.
- Okay.

Faith wouldn't be real faith...

if you only believe when things are good.

Well, so, what?

The world is just
cruel and random,

and there's nothing
anyone can do about it?

Look, I don't have a lot of time here.
Do you mind if I just skip to the part

where I pretend I don't know
what to tell you?

I'm just gonna tell you, okay?

- Okay.
- You sound like a child.

- What?
- Terrible things happen.

Terrible, wonderful,
devastating things happen.

Who the hell are you
to know why?

Who are you to know
why some people live

- and some people die?
- Children die.

Children who didn't do
anything wrong,

children... who were broken

before they had a chance to be whole,

who were climbing
in their own front windows.

Right. And you don't get to know
why any more than...

than I get to know why I'm dying

from taking a pill that saves lives,

that saves... nearly everyone's life...

but it's killing me.

So you can either
believe in God and goodness,

or you can believe
it's pointless, it's cruel,

and it's random...

whatever makes you happier.

Are you?

Happy?

It's not narcissism.

Then what is it?

- I don't know.
- Pain.

Unimaginable pain.

Yeah, I know the feeling.

God's not indifferent to our pain.

Listen, tikkun olam.

Tikkun olam means...

that the world
is full of brokenness...

and it's our job to put it
back together again.

It assumes...

that the world...

is, uh, broken
and in need and in pain.

And it's our job...

to fix... f-fix it.

Eli, let me... let me
give you some more morphine.

I can... I can take away the pain.

1/60th of your pain. I can do that.

Please... let me.

You already did.

Oh, and listen... tell...

Will you tell Dr. Bailey I forgive her?

Okay? You'll... You'll tell.

You'll tell her, right?

Eli... Eli, no.

You have to hang on
just a little bit longer.

Elyse is on her way.
She's on her way.

Elyse? Elyse is here?

She'll be here any minute.

Elyse.

I... I love you...

Okay.

Okay, Eli.

Okay.

Oh, Elyse.

Eli, I'm here.

I love you.

I'm right here.

I love... I love...

Oh.

Oh.

What's the word, Dr. Grey?

You taking the front of the
canoe or you taking the back?

You making room for me
in that hammock of yours?

Sorry, Nick.

Plan B is... is never gonna happen.

Because I saved your kidney.

Pbht! You are...

Oh, my God. You are evil.

An evil, twisted...

Genius.

Genius.

You are.

You saved my life.

I did.

Saved my whole damn life.

Teddy... Teddy, you're blowing
this way out of proportion!

I came here because I love you!

You came here because
your marriage is over,

and you're terrified of being alone!

- I'm not terrified...
- Oh, please!

You leave Beth for Cristina,

and then Cristina
for some random woman in a bar,

and then you go back to Cristina,

and then you go to Amelia
to soothe your pathological need

to be coupled up
so that no one sees

- how sad and empty you are!
- You're the one who's scared.

- I'm not scared!
- You always have been.

Deep down, you're terrified
to be... be happy.

I mean, sure, you're fine
to marry the dead guy,

but when you have love...
real love...

staring you in the face,
you run!

You don't ever get
to talk about Henry.

Do you understand me?

I am not scared.

Please, it's what you do.
It's what you've always done.

It's the reason you can't make
a real relationship work.

You'd rather burn it all to
the ground than risk being hurt!

Maybe because all you ever do
is hurt me, Owen!

You string me along for years

with these
half-baked declarations,

and then you marry other women.

And then you fly halfway across
the world to my doorstep,

and you convince me
that this is real,

that you're in this with me,

that you love me,
that you want me!

And it has never, ever,
ever been about me!

I do love you!

I want you.

And then, when you have me,
when you really have me,

and you have me believing
that you mean it,

I find out that 24 hours earlier,

your ex-wife, who you just
screwed, told you to!

I am done
being your fallback.

I am done being
your damn sloppy seconds.

I'm not your consolation prize!

Teddy, please. Please, Teddy,

just look at me...
look at me. Please.

Don't do this.

You know, the snow?

It wasn't for the soldiers.
It was for you.

I did it for you.

I just knew you loved Christmas,

and I, uh... I just wanted, uh...

I did it for you.

I'm done, Owen. We're done.

24 hours.

1,440 minutes.

86,400 seconds.

That all it takes.

To save your life,
change your life.

♪ Every day is like the last ♪

♪ Future looks like the past ♪

♪ It's time to break beyond this haze ♪

♪ To my eyes, to brighter days ♪

♪ A better way comes into view ♪

♪ There must be more
that I can chase away ♪

♪ To find myself in brighter days ♪

♪ And I know I'll find where I stand ♪

♪ And I know I'll find who I am ♪

♪ Just who I am ♪

Eli forgave you.

♪ Somewhere just beyond myself ♪

Some things just... happen,

and we don't get to know why.

♪ It's more than just a change of pace ♪

♪ I find myself inside ♪

One single day can pull
us from the depths of despair.

♪ And I know I'll find where I am ♪

- Hey.
- Oh!

You look like crap.

I do not.

Long day?

I saved a transplant surgeon today.

Mm.

He was smart and funny.

And?

Hot.

And, so, what? He's married?

Nope.

- Gay?
- Lives in a foreign country?

Minnesota.

Same difference.

So what's the problem?

No problem.
He was just my patient.

So he's smart, funny, and hot, and...

My patient.

I really like the way my life is now.

I just...

He made me feel something that
I haven't felt since Derek.

But... you're his doctor.

Is it really the worst thing
in the world,

knowing it's out there
if you want it?

No, it's not the worst thing.

And one single day

can fill us with more possibilities

than we could imagine.