*`*`*

The cold winter air buffeted his body, blowing the grey scarf away from his neck, letting his loose hair swirl and whip in the wind. Blair pulled his coat a little closer to his chest, fisting the wool material, shivering and coughing as he ran from his heat-challenged car to the campus medical center.

His stiff fingers curled around the lobby door handle, but before he could pull it open, someone else pushed from the inside, knocking his arm. "Oh, sorry."

A mumbled, "no problem", followed the woman bundled tightly in her winter coat and fuzzy green hat. Blair watched as she ran through the parking lot to the safety of the bus shelter across the street as he forcibly pulled the door shut against the harsh wind.

Winter had finally arrived.

Inside, the small waiting room was packed with many people occupied the worn vinyl seats, coughing and sneezing, some slumped over in sleep, all looking just as miserable as he felt, but he had another reasons beside his runny nose for visiting the clinic today.

A slight jab of pain radiated from his hip, but he ignored it and stepped up to the reception desk. The man behind the counter chatted on the phone, briefly glancing Blair's way before turning slightly and continuing his conversation.

Blair muttered, "Hey, that's cool, man...I can wait."

He surveyed the waiting room once more, spotting Ginny Hendricks, a freshmen from his study group. He hadn't seen her in the last few nights and now he knew why. She sat hunched over in her seat, leaning against a guy Blair hadn't seen before, but judging by the way he patted and rubbed her back, the guy had to be her boyfriend. A round of dry coughs seized her and she sat up straighter.

Blair could relate, swallowing hard to keep the tickle in his own throat from erupting into a full blown coughing fit.

"Hey, can I help you?"

"Umm..." Blair turned to see the guy finished his phone conversation and waiting expectantly with a clipboard in his hand. "Yeah, I ah called this morning about getting a physical."

"Name, please." The clipboard was pushed Blair's way, a tossed pen landed on the sheets of paper.

"Sandburg, Blair."

"Have a seat and fill out all the forms and questionnaire."

Blair grabbed the clipboard, searching for an empty seat.

He stepped over a pair of long legs crossed at the ankles, asking, "Hey, how are you?" The guy was so far down in his chair he looked like he was pouring out of it.

Slipping in a seat between the guy and some other girl, Blair crossed one leg over the other, resting the clipboard on his knee, filling in the general information on the forms that would go in his chart.

Why have you come to the clinic today?

He supposed he could answer, 'because my pushy roommate can't leave anything alone.'

Jim had been on his case and in his face all week.

For a smart guy, the man could be so dense and frankly Blair was tired of trying to explain his…little problem.

"Like a dog with a bone, man."

The guy next to him sat up a little straighter, "huh?"

"Nothing, sorry, man. Just talking to myself." He got a grunt in reply, the guy sunk even lower in his seat, pulling his hoodie up and over his head.

Man, he wished he had never found that thrift store.

Walking home from the deli on the corner of Prospect he'd spotted a storefront across the street with a huge window display. Inside, arranged among a camel back sofa and heirloom chair, sat a beautiful handmade oak bookshelf, with beveled edged shelves.

He should have waited for Jim to get home once he found the elevator was on the fritz again, but he was afraid to leave his purchase in the lobby. So he pushed, pulled, nudged and lifted the damn thing up three flights of steps, grunting and sweating, muscles straining until finally he had it on the landing near his front door.

"Mr. Sandburg?" Blair looked up from the unfinished questionnaire and his thoughts, a little surprised that he was being called back already. "This way, please."

He followed behind a woman dressed in all white. She was even wearing a little white cap on her head, a neat bun peaking out the back and held with a few bobby pins. He hadn't realized that nurses still dressed that way.

She pushed through a door and he followed her down a hallway and into a small exam room. The walls were painted a blue pastel, the tile once the same color, but now graying with age. A long table was pushed against the far wall and a few cabinets and a desk abutted the other wall.

"I'm Noel," she said, "have a seat." Her easy smile and dimpled cheeks put him at ease.

And he had to admit, he was a little bit nervous.

He sank into the chair as she pulled a pen from her scrub pocket, hooking the rolling stool with her foot and sat. "I'm gonna ask a few questions and then I'll get your temp and blood pressure." She scribbled in his chart while asking about any medication he might be taking, if he smoked, if he had any complaints.

"Well, I can't seem to shake this cold and I…ah, I'm having a little pain. I think I might have sprained something."

"Where?"

"Well, ah, my elevator was out again and I ah…"

He retold his story, leaving out that the cause of his little problem was a genetic defect.

He didn't like talking about it, so he just didn't.

Once done with the chart she slid closer to him, taking his arm and wrapping the pressure cuff around his bicep, pressing the button on a machine that would do all the work for her. While she waited for the blood pressure readout, she stuck an electronic thermometer into a plastic sleeve and raised it to his lips. "Open." He held it under his tongue, biting down to keep the heavy end from pulling it free. The machine beeped the same time as the thermometer and she pulled it from his mouth, reading the results.

"Everything looks normal." Noel pushed her chair back and returned to the chart to write down her findings. "The doctor will be with you soon," she said, standing and opening a drawer under the exam table. She pulled out a blue paper gown and white paper drape sheet. "I need you to get completely undressed and then have a seat on the table."

He accepted the paper products, giving a little wave as she pulled the curtain and stepped into the hall.

No more stalling.

*~*~*

"So you say that you were diagnosed when you were around twelve?" Melissa Lambert, the medical resident on call at the clinic under the supervision of the university medical department asked as she pressed her gloved hand down Blair's left flank and then lower, to where his thigh met his groin.

He felt ridiculously embarrassed, holding the gown up, talking casually as if he wasn't standing essentially naked in the middle of the room with a beautiful woman sitting in front of him examining his most private bits.

Not like he hadn't fantasized about getting naked with Melissa Lambert, but this wasn't what he had in mind.

She was blonde and beautiful, slim and leggy, lovely in every sense of the word and he'd been trying to ask her out for ages now, but the opportune time never came. From the moment he'd met her years ago at the campus pub he'd been smitten. They shared a few drinks, a few laughs with mutual friends, but she'd been called away by some medical emergency, some student had fallen, needed stitches or something, and that was the purpose of having a free clinic and it gave Missy the hours she needed to complete her schooling.

Now she split her time between Mercy Medical and the U's clinic, giving seminars to first year medical students. In all that time since, they'd became fast friends, still meeting at the pub for an occasional drink and dinner every once in awhile at the all night diner on Chelsea, across from the hospital.

"Blair?"

"Hmm...oh, yeah...around there." He could feel his face heating as she felt his testis, rolling each and then using just her index finger to press upward into his groin. "Ah, Naomi was in Barcelona, I was staying with my Aunt Ines and she got me interested in playing basketball with the Rec. League. I zigged when I should have zagged, ended up doing a split near the foul line and had to go to the emergency room."

She kept pressure on the small bulge protruding from his groin, pushing the nodule back to where it belonged. He hissed with the pain, fisting the paper gown he was still holding up.

"Sorry. I can definitely feel an abnormality...come lie down for me." He slid onto the exam table, the paper protecting the surface crinkled and pulled free, the torn piece sticking to his sweaty skin.

She quickly covered him, pushing up the gown to expose his belly. She took her time again, feeling all around his pelvis and then groin. Pain flared and he grunted back a sob. "Does it hurt more when you're lying down?"

He nodded, moving his leg a little when she reached between them and cupped his testicles, her fingers moving around to the back, pressing gently. "Can you cough?"

Clearing his throat, he coughed, feeling heaviness that he couldn't really explain and then coughed some more as a fit overtook him. She let him go as Blair rolled to his side, his arm holding his stomach, the other going to cup his tender parts, trying to stifle the ripples of pain that traveled upward with each intake of air.

Missy rubbed and patted his back until the spell passed. "I'm gonna give you something to help with your cough, should make you more comfortable."

Blair's eyes watered when he tried to speak, to sit up, his congested nose ached and a steady pressure was building behind his right eye.

Missy handed him a few tissues, taking his arm and helping him get upright, readjusting the torn paper sheet over his dangling legs, then she pressed a button on the telephone. "Noel? Can you call Mercy and ask for an E.R. Doc. Tell them the resident on call at the U has a patient that needs to be seen."

Blair shook his head while trying to blow his nose. "I'll be fine, Mis, really. I lifted something too heavy and on top of that I've got what ever is going around...all the coughing is agitating my condition...when my colds gone I'll be good as new."

Missy sat in front of him, resting her hand on his knee, looking him in the eyes. "Blair...come on, you gotta know the situation has changed. I'm betting the intestines have pushed into your scrotum, maybe even have tangled..."

"But the doctors have all said it's a congenital defect, that..."

"Okay," she stood, going to the phone again. "There's only one way to find out if anything has changed."

And what could he say.

He had always known that his condition could worsen.

Back when he was twelve, his Aunt Ines took him to see many doctors, getting second and third opinions until his mother came home and they moved on. Naomi wasn't ready to rely on western medicine.

Missy stood, phone still in her hand. "Who can I call to drive you?"

"Drive me? My cars right out front."

She just gave him the look. He'd seen her using it before with people that didn't want to cooperate.

Crap.

She waited, watching him struggle through his internal musings, maybe thinking he might bolt for the door if she turned her back.

And he might have, too.

But she was so good…not even saying anything, just holding the receiver, one finger pressing the disconnect button until he supplied a number, pressuring him without even saying a word.

Double crap.

"Okay," he huffed. "555-6907." Missy dialed quickly, handing him the phone on the first ring. Jim picked up on the second. "Ah, hey man."

Blair glanced up at her, still hunched over on the cold table. "The doctor says I need to go to the E.R. and have some tests...yeah, could you...okay, see you out front in twenty." He handed over the receiver, pushing himself up, going for his folded clothes, but she stopped him mid shuffle.

"Look, I know you got this...thing about doctors and hospital, but we're not all that bad." Her soft blue eyes lit up the whole room when she smiled and she pulled him into a quick hug. "You need to get this taken care of, once and for all."

"I know. Can I get dressed now?" He asked, not yet ready to accept it might be out of his hands. She lowered her head, nodding and slipped out the door to give him some privacy.

Jackass…it's not her fault you're a quivering ball of mush.

But he didn't want to go to the hospital, didn't want to hear what the doctors were sure to tell him and didn't want to have to deal with Jim, who was sure to agree with everything the medical staff would have to say and then badger Blair into doing something he really didn't want to have to do.

On his way out he tried to locate Missy, but she was already with another patient. The guy at the front desk handed him a thin chart folder. "You need to give this to the E.R. doctor. They're expecting you."

By the time he got to the front door, Jim was waiting at the curb, engine idling.

The wind had died down, but it was still crisp and cold enough to take away his breath as he darted to the waiting truck. A blast of heat hit his face as he climbed up and buckled in, a tinge of pain radiated from below, but he ignored it.

Jim didn't say anything as they pulled away and to his credit, he kept his mouth shut until they got to the first stop light after pulling out of the university parking lot. "So…You feeling ok?"

Blair ran a hand through his hair, looking out the window at the snow dusted lawns. "I'm okay."

The hospital wasn't far and soon they were pulling up to the patient drop off. "I ah, I don't know how long I'm gonna be."

Jim waved him off. "I can wait. Told Simon I was knocking off early anyway. I've got some shopping I need to do, so I can wait around until they know how long you're gonna be and then I'll pick you up when you're done."

"How about I just call you?" Blair slid down from the bench, turning his body toward the warmth of the cab. "It might be awhile before they can even see me."

Jim nodded as Blair shut the door and started to walk away. He could hear the passenger window lowering behind him. "I'm only going to the mall. If I get done before you, I'll come back and wait for you."

He waved his hand in acknowledgment and continued on through the automatic doors. The holding area was crowded, but it turned out he didn't have to wait. The triage nurse looked over his chart and made a call and the next thing he knew, he was on an imaging table deep within the bowels of the hospital.

Inguinal Hernia.

That was the diagnoses all those years ago, but at the time, the specialists his Aunt Ines took him to all agreed that his was manageable; he just had to be careful.

No surgery.

He wouldn't need surgery.

From time to time when he was still growing, he would get a small budge near his thigh, but he could always push it back in. He hadn't had any problems since then, at least not until last week when he was dragging the damn bookcase up three flights of steps.

The machine he lay in whirled and sputtered above him, silencing suddenly and the door along the far wall opened. The tech that led him to the room entered with another man in scrubs.

Dr. Sallings introduced himself, shaking Blair's hand as he still lay on the table. He went over the facts of the Inguinal Hernia, stuff that Blair has heard countless times before, but this time was different.

"So I'd like to schedule you as soon as possible."

"I ah...what? No, no I can't do that." Blair sat up quickly, pulling the sheet that covered him around him before sliding off the table. "Where are my clothes?"

The doctor stood, opened mouthed for a beat or two. "But, Mr. Sandburg...you need this surgery. The intestines have tangled. There is no choice."

Like hell there isn't.

Blair found the bag holding his clothes tucked under the gurney. "There's always a choice Dr. Sallings and I'm giving you mine. Now bring me whatever I need to sign. I'm outta here."

He grabbed the bag, spotting the changing room across the hall and hurried over, pulling the door tightly closed behind him.

God, just breathe, man...

He leaned against the closed door, sinking down, allowing the hard surface behind him support his descent. The room was spinning wildly around him, a persistent knocking buzzing on the fringe of his hearing and he knew had had to settle down.

"Just calm down, man. You are NOT a kid anymore. No one can make you do something you don't want to do. No one."

TBC