Counting To Fifteen [Grey's Anatomy]

chapter twenty five - radiology rooms

Daisy and Calypso did happen to test positive for the flu, something Mark wasn't eager about.

The day had started off horrifically, to begin with.

Calypso cried a lot, and then once Mark finally calmed her down, Daisy started crying a lot, and then Calypso started crying again. It was a never-ending cycle of tears and groans and aches and pains, a cycle that Mark couldn't quite keep under control.

The pediatrician he had taken the girls to was way too snarky, something that didn't rub well with Mark's own personality.

The small practice was tucked in the corner of Seattle. It seemed like a relatively cozy children's medical group.

But Mark hadn't realized how much he disliked being around sick children until he was sat in the waiting room. Mark could tolerate the girls' whining and coughing and sneezing, but being in a room full of other random kids whining and coughing and sneezing truly was an all time low.

There had even been a little boy in the waiting room, adorned in a puffy winter coat as he coughed right on Mark, and the man felt the urge to douse his clothing in copious amounts of sanitizer.

Calling it an unpleasant visit was far too generous.

But the girls were able to be seen by the doctor, an order of various over-the-counter prescriptions and lots of sleep was given.

By the time Mark had gotten the girls situated with Naomi and given the nanny orders on how exactly to care for the sick girls, it was time for his shift at the hospital.

He was exhausted as a result of having gotten no sleep. Maybe that's why his bluntness came through more aggressively than usual when he got to the hospital.

"Blaire Peterson." One of the interns presented, babbling as the small group of doctors entered their patient's room. "28-years-old, admitted three days ago for-"

Mark couldn't help but drone out the rest, looking down at the patient's chart to ensure there weren't any allergies.

Listening to patient presentation was crucial, Mark knew that. It's not that he was trying to ignore his colleagues, but he seriously couldn't find it in himself to pay attention.

A z-plasty was Mark's job on the patient's case. He knew that. He knew that he was going to explain to Miss Peterson that after Dr. Bailey performed the nephrectomy, Mark would do a z-plasty on the surgical incision to ensure her scar would be perfectly healed in time for bikini season—Miss Peterson's most blatant concern about her surgery.

He knew what he was supposed to say. But he found himself going off script just a little bit.

Mark was incredibly good about keeping his opinions on patients to himself, it was a skill every doctor had to master.

But he couldn't help but stare at his patient. Her ears were huge, unlike anything the man had ever seen before.

It was distracting, and Blaire could definitely tell that Mark was staring.

"Dr. Sloan." Bailey warned, clearing her throat to spark a reaction from the man.

"Right, yes. Miss Peterson." Mark nodded, giving his patient a warm smile as he snapped out of it. "Hi. I'm Dr. Sloan, I'll be performing your otoplasty. I'll make a small incision along your pinna to cut back the outer ear, and I'll-"

"That is not the surgery you are performing." Bailey was quick to snap, in bewilderment that Mark would say something so blatantly stupid.

"Z-plasty." Mark corrected, shaking his head. "I'm so sorry, I'll be performing your z-plasty."