With great power, comes great responsibility.

"I can't say I know the feeling," Meredith says wryly, "but I'm guessing it's worse than getting run down by a tree." She still has to lean against the bed a little, chart in one hand, fighting off the thought that she really should wait another day or three. She feels strangely useless as it is, standing there, looking at his chart where it's been filled in by others, notes made in someone else's hand, and she sets it down quickly. Other people step in fast. It's a blessing for the patients and that's the important thing, but she feels pointless enough without the reminder she's easily replaced. "Anything I can get for you?"