As I lie here in bed, I ponder the year passing by so quickly.

So many things have happened.

I could've been a father, I could've lost the girl of my dreams (and nightmares!), and I could've lost my career.

I have so much to be thankful for, and so many blessings to count.

One is at the hospital, but I'll save her for last.

I'm thankful and so very blessed for the opportunities that lay before me. I nearly lost my entire career. I got cocky, I got let an intern get attached to a patient and didn't question it. I got shot.

I crossed a line that many would never dream of crossing. And I got caught.

But I still have my job.

And I have my hand function.

I am so blessed.

I am thankful for Dr. Isobel Stevens. She's the one managed to get me in the right place at the right time to get shot.

Most wouldn't believe that getting shot was a thing to be thankful for, but I am.

From getting shot, I went through unbelievable arguments with Cristina, learned to relinquish power, and I learned about true teamwork.

Even if it was through deception.

I also did a lot of self-evaluation, and found out that I don't like who I am without the woman I love.

Even if she does act a bit on the...eccentric side.

So, I am thankful for Dr. Stevens.

I'm thankful for Dr. O'Malley because he called Dr. Hahn to make the deception stop while Cristina and I still had a perfect record.

Without his actions, I'm not sure how long it could've lasted.

I'm thankful for Dr. Shepard for fixing the brachial prexus nerve that eliminated the tremors in my hands and allowed me back into the OR to perform surgeries on my own again.

I'm thankful for the gifts that I have to heal hearts, the intelligence that a higher power has granted upon me to discover problems within the human body and how to heal them.

I'm thankful for my health.

Most of all, I'm thankful for her.

I nearly lost her. 3 times as a matter of fact.

Once, I broke up with her.

Twice, she passed out and nearly bled out from an ectopic pregnancy.

The third time, I blamed my own problems on her 'emotional shortcomings'.

But all three times, through all of her stubbornness, she managed to forgive me.

She managed to stick, as she would call it.

I'm thankful for that.

So now I lay here, alone in my own bed, thinking of her.

But I hear the door unlock and swing open, and movement across the hard wood floors of our apartment.

I roll over to find her standing there, her hair hanging out of her ponytail, and her blue scrubs slightly dampened with the Seattle rain. "I'm home." is all she said.

"You're home." I reply, the sight rather astonishing to me.

"Whatever. Don't make a big deal out of it." she smiles at me as she crawls into bed.

I wrap my arm around her waist as her wet black hair lightly sprinkles my face.

I'm thankful and blessed.