Grey’s Anatomy‘s twelfth season debuted last week on ABC, yet I feel unusually happy.

Many times, Shonda Rhimes’ medical drama ended the season with a cliffhanger, started the next one killing a beloved character, then dedicate countless episodes to mourn the deceased and address the PTSD of the survivors. We all remember how Izzie got traumatized by Denny’s death, everybody got shocked by George’s self sacrifice, Meredith had to get over Lexie, Callie missed Marc, Arizona missed her leg, Shane obsessed over Heather, Bailey got OCD… It’s a painful process. For us viewers, I mean. I’ve always found those beginnings quite hard to digest. Something like the inscription at the entrance of Dante’s Inferno: “All hope abandon, ye who enter here”.

This time is different. I mean, doctors keep on dying like flies in Seattle Grace Hospital, last one on the list: Derek Sheperd, deceased because of a car accident and a doctor’s mistake (isn’t that ironic?). We’re talking about one of the most important and beloved characters of the show, a brilliant neurosurgeon called to work for the White House, our heroine’s one and only love since episode one. But I am glad they abruptly killed and quickly mourned him right before the eleventh season finale (rest in peace, Mc Dreamy) so now we can have a fresh start and fully enjoy with a light heart calamities and tragedies to come.

Bombs, tumors, shooting sprees, divorces and plane crashes: bring them on, we are ready.

Can’t wait to have my spirit crushed once again.