Yes! I am finally finished with the first twelve seasons of Grey's Anatomy. My study breaks have consisted of four episodes each (I like taking long breaks, apparently), and I can finally say I am caught up for the most part. Throughout the twelve years that Grey's has been broadcast, many characters have died, left, and been added in Seattle, Washington. There is one death I am still not over, and I probably never will be. It is the death of George O'Malley.

O'Malley was one of the originals on the show, and deserves as much respect as the other character deaths, such as Lexie Grey, Mark Sloan, and THE Derek Shepherd. George died because his heart sent him in front of a bus in the place of another young woman. If anyone you know is that sensitive, bring them to me. He put his heart literally on the line and it costs him his life.

To make things worse, the other doctors who were working on him, such as Dr. Meredith Grey, Dr. Derek Shepherd, and Dr. Owen Hunt, did not know it was him until it was too late. There were no medical records on file for George. When he first arrived at the hospital and everyone was checking him out, he grabbed Meredith's hand. Not knowing what to do with that, she just played it safe and checked on him periodically. Grey figured it out when he made the motions of 0-0-7 on her hands.

The thing I am still not over is how sudden it was. In the episode right before his death, he planned to enlist in the United States Army and work as a trauma surgeon in the Middle East. Owen had convinced him that it would be a good idea to go and help different people in different cultures, and he took him up on that offer. Dr. Richard Webber, the Chief of Surgery at the time, gave him the day, and was told he was on his way to his mother's house to tell her of the news. But I believed George's death served a purpose. Not because he was the first main character to die, but its purpose was to show how we never know when our last day on Earth will be. Your life can flash before your eyes in seconds.

A classmate of mine who was a communications major died on the morning of final exams on campus. She collided with a semi truck. I didn't know her very well. We only talked dozens of times. But her death still struck me because on the last day of class she was bright and happy and as ready to be done with spring semester as we all were. Her death showed me that you cannot keep living in fear and go after what makes you happy because you never know what tomorrow will hold.