Arizona had seen a lot in her time as a pediatric surgeon. Truly, she had seen the darkest of things. But it never did get easier.

There had been an accident. A family of four, two parents with their son and daughter, were on a trip, driving on an icy road. The driver of a semi truck lost control, and the family’s car stood no chance.

The mother died on scene. Paramedics rushed to bring the father and two children to the hospital. The boy was awake and conscious. The girl was alive, but she was in a coma. The father soon died in surgery.

Arizona worked on the girl, making sure she was stabilized. The young girl remained in a coma, fighting injuries that wanted so badly to take her.

The boy had been awake and stable, but he took a turn. And then there was one. One that Arizona would not give up on.

The girl was all that remained. Stuck in a coma, on that brink of life or death. Arizona sat at her bedside, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. She had seen a lot, even cases similar to this, but it was awful. It was awful because what did that girl have to come back for? Other than just to live, why would she stay? Why would she fight? Arizona hoped the girl could hear her as she whispered.

“Here's a secret, baby: you control this whole thing. If you live, if you die, it's all up to you. So whatever fight you got in you, you gotta pull it out now.” She grabbed the girl’s hand, gently offering whatever strength she could.

And this went on for days. Days of Arizona going on and off shift, always ending up in the girl’s room, whispering to her and telling her to fight, motivating her battered body and mind to find the strength.

On one of those days, Arizona put a pair of headphones on the girl’s head, careful to avoid any tubes or wires. All that played was the top hits of the day, but Arizona wanted the girl to be comfortable. The blonde doctor sat in the chair beside the girl’s bed, working on some charts.