Gray's anatomy reverse

That afternoon, the hospital halls were bustling with activity as the residents and attendings made their rounds. The sound of hurried footsteps and clipped conversations filled the air, but in Lexie’s room, everything felt painfully still. She had been awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the next round of doctors to come through.

She could hear them approaching—their voices growing louder just outside her door. When they finally entered, it wasn’t the warm, casual greetings she was used to from her colleagues. Instead, they were all business, professional, distant. It was strange, unsettling even, to be on this side of things. To them, she wasn’t Dr. Grey, the surgical resident who was supposed to be making rounds with them. She was Lexie Grey, the patient.

Meredith led the group, clipboard in hand, her face calm and composed. Mark was beside her, but his usual warmth was hidden beneath the professional mask he wore as they approached Lexie’s bed.

“Lexie Grey, 29 years old, sustained multiple injuries from blunt trauma during the plane crash,” Meredith began, her voice clinical as she addressed the group. “She suffered a fractured femur, which was surgically repaired three days ago, and multiple rib fractures due to debris pinning her during the crash. She’s been kept under observation for respiratory issues secondary to the rib fractures, but her recovery has been stable so far.”

Lexie tried to meet her sister’s eyes, but Meredith kept her focus on the clipboard. She felt the weight of the entire group standing around her, all of them listening, assessing her—not as a peer, but as a case.

Mark stepped forward next, keeping his tone steady and formal, though Lexie could see the tension in his shoulders. “Ms. Grey’s vitals have remained stable over the past 24 hours. Oxygen levels are within normal range, and we’ve had no further complications with her leg post-op. However, we’re continuing to monitor for any signs of infection at the surgical site.”

Lexie swallowed hard, fighting the urge to speak up and remind them that she knew all this. She was a doctor, after all. But today, she was just the patient lying in the bed, and they had a job to do.

One of the other doctors—a young resident Lexie barely knew—stepped forward to check her. He approached with a detached professionalism, speaking to the group rather than to her directly.

"Let’s examine the surgical site,” he said, pulling back the blanket to reveal her leg, still bandaged and encased in a brace. He pressed lightly along the edges of the brace, checking for swelling, infection, or any signs of tenderness. “There’s some residual swelling, but no signs of erythema or discharge. Healing appears to be on track.”

The resident then moved his stethoscope to her chest, listening to her lungs. The cold metal of the stethoscope made her shiver slightly, but she said nothing. She could feel his gaze shift between her and the others in the room, as if she weren’t actually there.

“Breath sounds are clear bilaterally,” he announced after a moment. “Rib fractures appear to be healing well. No signs of pneumothorax or further respiratory complications.”

Mark, still standing nearby, nodded in approval but kept his expression neutral. He caught Lexie’s eye briefly, a flicker of warmth crossing his face before he looked away again.

Meredith continued, her voice level as she addressed the group. “Given her current progress, we’re hopeful she’ll be discharged within the next few days, pending any further complications. We’ll continue to monitor her pain levels, and physical therapy will start as soon as she’s cleared for mobility. Any questions?”

The group murmured their agreement, scribbling notes as they prepared to move on to the next patient. As they turned to leave, Lexie watched them go, a strange mix of relief and frustration swirling inside her. She felt like she was in some bizarre twilight zone—still a part of the hospital, but not really part of it.

Just before Meredith stepped out, she paused at the door and turned back to Lexie, her face softening for the briefest moment. "You’re doing great, Lex. Just a little longer I'll see you later."

Lexie nodded, but once the door closed and the room fell silent again, she let out a long, frustrated sigh. She hated being the patient.