falling for you [m.s.]

eighty eight

sofia robbins torres
one week, 482 gramm

gwen walked into callie's room after checking up on the baby again.

"morning. baby report." gwen announces as she walked up next to callie.

"i'm gonna go see her." arizona says leaving the room.

"gimme, gimme, gimme." callie stressed grabbing gwen's phone.

"see? she's moving her arm like she's waving." gwen smiles callie watched the video of her daughter. "she still hasn't opened her eyes, but she only stopped breathing once last night, and get this, her brain bleed's still grade one."

"good girl!" callie beams. "she looks bigger. is she bigger?"

"all right, some of us are still working." bailey reminds them pushing past gwen to check callie's incision. "let me get in there, please."

"okay. i have a consult. i have to go." gwen informs her friend. "how are you?"

"i... almost got my hand straight." callie replies proud.

"that's great." gwen agrees finally leaving the room.

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gwen stood in her patients room together with alex.

"mrs.pulcher, you're gonna have to stop the smoking." gwen instructs the older lady. "your infections are getting worse."

"your infections, you mean." the patient corrects pointing at the two doctors. "i didn't have them before you two idiots operated, and you didn't even do that right."

"again, i'm sorry, but your lung cancer had spread to the point...." gwen began.

"please. useless." gladys cuts her off. "i can afford any hospital in the world, and i come to this third-rate crap factory. when am i getting out of here? i've been here for three weeks. this is not guantanamo."

"discharge her. please. i'll pay you." alex whispers to gwen as she wrote in the chart.

"there's not much more that we can do unless you're willing to help yourself." gwen tells the patient. "now, the smoking-"

"if i wanted a lecture on smoking, i'd dig up my dead husband. now, get me outta here before i sue your balls off." gladys threatened them.

"well, we'll run some tests." gwen informs the patient staying calm. "and if your white blood cell count is up to an acceptable level..."

"how high does it have to be?" gladys asks. "give me a number."

"it's at a point-eight now. i'd like it to be above a two." gwen replies.

"one." gladys retourts.

"this is not a negotiation." gwen chuckles.

"everything is." gladys informs her. "one-point-five. one-point-five and you let me outta here. now, get me a wheelchair. 'cause if i have to wait around this hellhole, i'm gonna smoke."