I used to make fun of the people I knew who watched Grey’s Anatomy. “Who the hell wants to watch a soap opera about who’s hooking up with who?” I’d jest. Almost everyone I knew watched it, though, and they kept insisting that I’d like it. “No. No, I won’t,” I’d protest. Sometime in April, though, after months of telling me I’d like it, Sandy handed me the first season on DVD and told me to just watch it. Of course, it sat in a pile with my other DVDs… until one day I came home from work and was in too much pain to do anything other than sit in bed. I didn’t have anything else to watch, so I said, “Fuck it,” and popped in the DVD.
I watched the entire first season right then and there.
Then I begged her for the second season.
After I finished that, I bought the third season for myself because I couldn’t wait to borrow it from her.
Then I bought the fourth season.
And then I found out the whole series was streaming on Netflix, so when I was too broke to buy it on DVD, I still got my fix.
Now, five months later, I’m completely caught up. I just finished the season finale of Season 7, and I DVRed the first episode of Season 8 when it aired on Thursday, so I’ll be watching that when Mike gets up so I don’t wake him up while watching.
I think it’s safe to say that I’m horribly addicted, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I could say this show means more to me because it’s been there for me while I laid in bed unable to walk, or because it helps distract me from all of the things going on, but that wouldn’t be the whole truth. The medical procedures are interesting and exciting, the characters are well rounded and intriguing, and the writing is always witty and full of surprises. It’s much, much more than a “soap opera about people screwing each other.”
SPOILERS AHEAD; PROCEED WITH CAUTION!


