Title: Doctor Buck
Rating: T
Pairings/Characters: Buck/Eddie, Christopher Diaz
Warnings: None (that I know of at this time).
Notes: 9-1-1 Bingo Square - Doctor Buck. Buddie Bingo square - Christopher Diaz
This story was originally supposed to be a one-shot, like my other bingo stories, but this idea is too big for a one-shot. Not sure how long it's going to be. Hopefully, no more than 5 chapters.
Doctor Buck
"Your next one is a new patient. And just so you know, the dad is hot," his receptionist, Ali, told him.
Buck glared at the pretty blonde. "Ali, how many times do I have to tell you to be professional?"
"Can't help it. He is one of the finest men I've seen in a long time. After you of course," she flirted with a flutter of eyelashes.
Buck rolled his eyes. "You're lucky I find you charming. Otherwise, you'd so be out of a job." He took the clipboard for her and read the name. Christopher Diaz. He looked over the child's history. Nine-years-old. CP. Originally from Texas. Just moved to Los Angeles. No known allergies to medication.
He frowned. It was always hard for him when he met a child that had a serious health condition. He never found it fair that someone so young had to deal with so much.
"He and his father are in room 3," Ali said.
Buck nodded distractedly as he walked down the hallway, stopping in front of room 3. He opened the door, and his heart practically melted at the scene in front of him. Christopher sat on his dad's lap, his head resting on his dad's strong shoulder. His dad, Mr. Diaz, was running his hand soothingly up and down Christopher's back.
He could almost understand why Ali swooned. If he didn't concentrate so hard at being a professional, he might have felt just a little light-headed.
He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry I've kept you waiting. My name is Evan Buckley. You can call me Buck."
Mr. Diaz's eyes squinted as if he was measuring Buck's worth. "It's okay. Chris doesn't really like doctors, so we were just hanging out."
"I'll try not to take offense to that. I don't know anyone that likes going to the doctor."
"Buck is a funny name," Christopher commented.
"Chris, that's rude," Mr. Diaz admonished.
Buck waved it away. "That's fine. I know it's weird, but when I was in school, there were two other Evans in my class. And being called by my last name just sounded so formal. One of the other Evans began calling me 'Buck,' and it just stuck."
"How long have you been a doctor?" Mr. Diaz asked.
Buck knew this was a sort of interview. He knew how young he looked, and Mr. Diaz wasn't the first parent to question his credentials.
"I got my bachelor's degree in an accelerated program in Pennsylvania graduating in two years instead of the normal four. And I went to medical school there as well. After graduating, I got accepted into a residency program at Glendale Memorial Hospital, which I did three years of. And I have been a full-fledged pediatrician for the last four years. And if my age worries you, I can recommend you to a doctor with more experience."
"No, you come highly recommended from everyone I talk to. In fact, one of your patients is my friend's son. I just like to know who will be treating Christopher. Sorry if I came off as over-protective."
"Trust me, I'm fine if you question me. I wish more parents took such care with their children's health. And I want all of my patients and my patients' families to feel safe and secure with my care."
"Pennsylvania is far away, isn't it?" Chris asked.
"My parents live there so I completed schooling there, but I couldn't wait to come to sunny California. The first thing I did is start taking surfing lessons."
Christopher grinned. "I want to learn to surf, but I can't."
Buck furrowed his eyebrows. "Why not?"
Christopher looked at his dad. "Because of my CP of course."
Buck had something to say about that, but he decided to research a little bit and then bring it up to Mr. Diaz privately. No reason to get Christopher's hopes up if Mr. Diaz wasn't going to okay it. "Of course. So, we should get started. Unless either of you have any more questions for me?"
"I do," Christopher asked. "Don't you miss your family? You're far away from them, and I can't imagine being that far away from my dad."
"Mijo, I think Buck was asking if we had any questions relating to him being a doctor. Not something so personal."
"It's fine," Buck said. "Well, to be perfectly honest, I don't really miss my parents. We were never very close. The only person I really miss is my sister, but she has her own life with her husband."
"I'm sorry you're not close to your mom and dad, Buck."
"Thank you, Christopher. I'm sorry about it too, but unfortunately, that happens sometimes. Now, any more questions."
Christopher shook his head.
"Mr. Diaz?" Buck asked.
"I'm good. And I appreciate the time you took to answer me."
"No problem. So, Mr. Diaz, is this just to establish care as a new patient? Or is there something troubling you."
"Establish care," Mr. Diaz answered. "We just moved here from Texas. I will be starting work soon, and with Chris' condition, we need a primary care doctor to coordinate his medical appointments. He has physical therapy. He has been forced to have surgery in the past, and there's always a chance he'll need another one."
"Of course. The paperwork you filled out didn't name his former doctor. Do you have the name so I can reach out and get his medical records?"
Mr. Diaz scrunched up his nose. "His former doctor is a friend of my parents, and they weren't happy with me deciding to leave Texas. Instead of taking the chance of something delaying the records, I wanted to hand-deliver them." He took a manila envelope and passed it over.
Buck took it with a raised eyebrow. "I can't imagine a doctor, no matter what kind of close ties he or she has to a patient's family, would withhold medical records like a hostage because the family wasn't happy with a move to a new state."
"You never met my parents. They can be… challenging."
"Abuela and Abuelo always get their way," Christopher explained.
"Okay, then maybe you made a good decision when you decided to move."
"No maybe about it. Trust me. It was for the best that we start afresh." Mr. Diaz put his hand on top of Christopher's head, running his fingers through his son's curls.
Buck smiled. "Well, I'm just going to do a preliminary health check. The first thing I'm going to do is take her blood pressure. You've done it before?" he asked as he got the blood pressure cuff.
"Yeah, I don't like doing it, though."
"I know it's uncomfortable. I never liked getting my blood pressure taken either," Buck sympathized.
"It hurts. It squeezes my arm so tightly. It feels like it's going to break my arm."
Buck frowned. "I'm sorry it hurts so much. I'll try to get it done as quickly as possible."
"Mijo, it will be fine. We all have to get our blood pressure taken every now and then. I'm here if it gets to be too much." Mr. Diaz kissed the side of Christopher's head.
Christopher nodded.
Buck put the cuff around Christopher's upper arm and started the device. He watched closely as Christopher winced when it inflated to its highest point. And then the air was released.
"Blood pressure is a little high, but I'm attributing that to your stress because of how you feel about getting your blood pressure taken." He wrote it down on Christopher's chart. "Now I'm going to take your temperature." He took out the thermometer and held it up to Christopher's forehead. It beeped. "Temperature is good." He wrote it down on Christopher's chart.
He put the clipboard down and looked at Mr. Diaz. "I know you said Christopher does regular physical therapy. Have you already found a physical therapist in L.A.?"
"Not yet. I need to find one that accepts the insurance and has experience with CP patients."
"I do have some recommendations for physical therapists that have worked with kids that have CP in the past. You would have to check with your insurance to see if they are covered, though."
Mr. Diaz nodded. "Pease."
Buck wrote down a couple of names and their phone numbers. "Once you find out if they are covered, or if you decide to go with another physical therapist, call my office so I can get a referral put into your insurance."
"Will do. Thank you."
Buck nodded, giving Mr. Diaz the paper with the names and phone numbers on it. "That's about it. Do either of you have any more questions for me?"
Mr. Diaz nodded. Christopher looked curious but uncertain.
"What is it, Christopher? Do you have a question?"
"Are you married?"
"Chris," Mr. Diaz reprimanded. "What is with you and your personal questions today?"
"He asked if I had any questions," Christopher pouted.
Buck laughed. "He's right. I did ask. And no, I haven't met that special person yet."
Christopher nodded. "Good."
Buck furrowed his eyebrow. He wondered if he should worry about the determined look on Christopher's face, but he decided maybe he was imagining the evil mastermind plotting look.
"I walk you guys out to the front."
Christopher slid off of Mr. Diaz's lap, taking his crutches that laid against the bed. Mr. Diaz stood up, following after Christopher after Buck opened the door of the exam room.
"Sorry about my son. He's always been curious, but I'm not sure where the intrusive questions came from," Mr. Diaz whispered.
"It's really no big deal," Buck reassured him. "I've been asked worse within this building."
They made it to the front. Ali was doing an insurance verification on another patient, but she made sure to wave at Mr. Diaz.
"It was nice meeting you, Mr. Diaz. And very nice meeting you, Christopher." Buck shook both of their hands. "Once you have a physical therapist, make sure to call my office. And if anything comes up and that makes you need to come in, call and I'll do my best to get you in quickly."
Mr. Diaz nodded. "Thank you. Have a good day." He pushed lightly on Christopher's back so his son would go towards the door.
"Bye Buck." Christopher waved.
Buck returned the wave and watched as father and son disappeared out of the door.
