clxviii.

                                    

                                          
- - -
time stops when you're in the o.r. you step up to the table, you evaluate the patient, you pick up a scalpel, and then you go into a bubble.
- - -
                          
"how is everybody?" mark sighs as he returns home to find lia feeding lily in her high chair at the kitchen counter. 
                          
"ah, so darci's in her room getting dressed, and this little one just pooped, so there's that," lia tells him. "how was your flight?"
                          
"rough, but-" mark cuts himself off the kiss lily on the top of her head. "we have a place to live in la. we got the condo in beverly hills."
                          
"we got it?!" lia's voice raises an octave. 
                          
"we close in a month," mark confirms, pulling the paperwork out. "i just need you to sign the paperwork. what is today? is today tuesday?"
                          
"today is thursday," she informs him. 
                          
"oh, good," he nods. "then avery's got my surgeries. i can sleep in all day."
                          
"okay, but first, she has a dirty diaper, and i can take a look at these tonight," lia points to lily and then the paperwork mark is holding. 
                          
"hey, you want to look at the brochure again and remind yourself of how much you love it?" mark grins, holding the brochure up. 
                          
- - -
it's just you and your surgery and nothing else matters; not time, not pain, not exhaustion, nothing. it happens in real life too.
- - -
                          
"so you're really going?" callie raises her brow as she and lia are walking down the o.r corridor. 
                          
"yep. i'm movin' to la," lia nods, popping the 'p', and callie wraps an arms around her shoulder, pulling her into her, so that they're sideways hugging, and lia's brow furrows. "what are you doing?"
                          
"i'm happy for you. this is what people do," callie tells her. 
                          
"is it?" lia chuckles. 
                          
"i don't know, probably," callie shrugs, letting go of her. "but i am happy for you. even if i'm gonna miss you."
                          
"yeah. i'm gonna miss you," lia sighs as her pager begins to sound out. 
                          
- - -
when something big happens, something tragic, you freeze, you retreat into your happy bubble for what seems like a second, until you look up.
- - -
                          
"is that too much?" lia's patient, cheyenne, asks as she is draining fluid from her swollen stomach, with the assistance of jo. 
                          
"it's a lot of extra amniotic fluid, cheyenne, but your baby looks strong," lia assures her. 
                          
"does that mean we can go?" cheyenne's mother, kateri, looks over to lia. "i mean, i appreciate you seeing us, i really do, but this is a long drive for us, and i can't afford to miss another shift."
                          
"unfortunately, ms. wood, the mass on the baby's neck is what's causing the build up off fluid," lia informs her. "it's also obstructing her airway and the spine."
                          
"mom," cheyenne turns to kateri. 
                          
"it's alright," kateri places a comforting hand on her daughter's shoulder. "let's listen."