What if Derek dies? This was the one, all-important question on my mind last week. In class, at meals, in bed, this question popped up out of the blue and sent me into a panic. Four years after I stopped following “Grey’s Anatomy,” I still find myself plagued with these bouts of radical obsession. I suppose I am living proof that some TV shows just get into your system and stay there. As the many rabid fans of “Grey’s” know, Patrick Dempsey has stirred up controversy by proclaiming this season his last on the show. “I do not know what’s going to happen to the other characters, but for me it’s done,” he declared. This led to some troubling questions. I couldn’t be bothered by “Grey’s” being canceled, but what if his character, Derek aka “McDreamy,” left Meredith, his on-screen wife and the show’s protagonist? Then came the announcement that a character was going to die in this season’s finale. It’s enough to make me break out into a cold sweat. Part of my fixation can be attributed to the former glory of the show. At the beginning of its run, “Grey’s” was a masterful combination of angst and titillation, a melodrama that perfectly matched the narcissistic tizzy of high school. Meredith, the beautiful and misunderstood protagonist, was often moody and depressed when she had every reason to be happy; she had friends who supported her even when she dated a married man or exposed herself to a bomb or almost allowed herself to drown. What angsty teenager wouldn’t go for that? Sadly, “Grey’s” lost this impeccable alchemy long ago. Some mark the turnover at the departure of Dr. Burke, others at the combined death of George and short-lived salvation of Izzie. But regardless of the exact turning point, the near-universal consensus is that the magic of the first few seasons has faded. Instead of killing characters because it made for a fantastic, knife-in-the-gut plot point, “Grey’s” now kills off characters purely for the ratings. Sooner or later most shows face this steep decline in quality. But most shows keep their fan base a few seasons longer than they deserve. And even after cancelation, reruns give old shows a quasi-immortality. “Cheers” was canceled almost 20 years ago, and “The Dick van Dyke Show” died in the ’60s after only five seasons, yet both are still regularly shown in syndication. One could kvetch about the undiscerning taste of the American viewer and their willingness to watch anything, but I don’t think that’s fair. I think our love of the TV past has to do with our own inherent nostalgia. I’m no TV theorist, but just about anyone can confirm that if you see an old, beloved show, no matter how much you’ve drifted away from it, you’ll have a heck of a time turning that dial. It’s probably not about the show’s quality: no one claims TV is equivalent to Chekhov or Wilde. Instead watching these shows allows us to briefly recapture a bygone era. My mother’s effusions about “The Carol Burnett Show” are always connected to stories of watching with it her beloved grandmother. I love watching “Grey’s” and half-grudgingly remembering what an angry, self-obsessed kid I was. We never tire of looking back at what we once loved and who we once were. So, instead of suppressing my “Grey’s” malaise, I faithfully tuned in Thursday night. The writing was a hack job, and the acting was overwrought. But you bet your ass I started bawling when that character died. And no, it wasn’t Derek. Thank God. –Britta Hanson