Everett Ramos is a resident surgeon at Mercy West Hospital in Seattle, Washington. She's on the uphill climb to becoming one of the best orthopedic surgeons in the world, studying alongside her best friends and hoping one day to make a difference...
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[THE EMERGENCY room of Seattle Grace Mercy West Hospital. It has been six months since the shooting which rocked the news. It is busy, full of doctors and nurses treating patients. Over the emergency dispatch, a nurse is informed of an incoming trauma involving a motorcyclist and obvious head trauma. As major doctors are introduced to the screen, their names and specialities flash up on the screen. It is very early morning, the sun still hasn't risen and there is an obvious thrill to the air as people start to move, like a match has lit the flame to burn underneath their asses, filling up their blood systems with something that is unlike ash, more like sunlight, pure golden rays of energy rushing to their heads. As surgical residents flash up on screen, they explain their duty on the trauma rotation. Any words we cannot hear implicitly are written in yellow subtitles.
The patient is wheeled into trauma one, surrounded by nurses and doctors alike, who work hard to keep him from dying on the table. One surgical resident, CRISTINA YANG, stands back to observe, her voiceover explains how sometimes that is what needs to be done, but we can see by the look on her face that there is something deeper at play here, like the thought of getting closer to being in charge of someone's life might bite her like a rabid dog, frothing at the mouth to bring her downfall.
Head of Neurosurgery, DEREK SHEPHERD, tells us about why he was paged to this patient. Inside the trauma room, we see Head of Trauma, OWEN HUNT, who originally paged SHEPHERD to his aid, declare the patient braindead. The nurses start to disband and SHEPHERD excuses himself from the cameras to ask about the patient's donorship. We are left to wonder why donorship is his top priority at the moment, but as civilians, we will never truly understand how turned off doctor's must become when they see death by the sevenfold. By now, most doctors must be best friends with the creature carrying the sharpened scythe, a picture of beauty in flowing black robes, hand outstretched to drain the life of the patient on the table, the patient in the bed, the patient hoping for recovery. One must wonder if doctor's make deals with these sorts of figures.
Intensive Care Unit. We are listening to HUNT and SHEPHERD talk about cross-matching blood types before they are joined by Head of Plastic Surgery, MARK SLOAN, who they show matching samples of blood, age, skin, size etc. and yet we still do not know why. Is this what it feels like to always be surrounded by doctors – confused, bewildered, subordinate? SLOAN tells us that we picked a good night to film. We do not understand what he means.
Patient room with a hospital bed with a green blanket draped over the top, there is an armchair in the corner for visitors and a desk drawer with a single lamp on it. A door in the corner leads to a private bathroom. The man sitting on the edge of the bed, ZACK, talks about how he was called in and we meet his wife, NORA, who still has her slippers on due to how quickly they responded to the call. She helps him into his hospital gown and talks about how it is finally transplant day. We zoom out to see that that transplant is for his arms, which he is missing below the elbow. Is this what it feels like to be a survivor – like you are missing something that is so pivotal to your own existence?]
