Metal couldn't remember the last time he had been as nervous sitting in a waiting room. Dr. Andrews had ensured him as far as surgeries go, it was a safe one. And that if it proved to be a twisted ovary, they probably caught it early enough for there to not be any lasting damage done.
But he still felt every bit as nervous as when his brothers had been really bad off in the past, maybe even more.
He almost felt sick to his stomach.
They hadn't told him how long it would or could take. So he figured it was best he occupied himself with something. But then again, there wasn't all that much to do in a hospital waiting room.
Figuring he could do something he should have done months ago, he pulled out his phone, opened google and typed; Endometriosis.
First he just wanted a better general understanding. He knew how Emily struggled, but he wanted to know more in case she had symptoms she hadn't noticed as symptoms yet. The typical 'I've always been like this, I thought it was normal'-stuff.
Then, he googled Nook and Endometriosis together, and read through large parts of the website he found that way.
Then he read patient stories, and then he fell down a rabbit hole as he found a reddit society dedicated to endometriosis. People with endo, and their significant others shared what reminded him more of war-stories than something about a medical condition.
The one thing that stood out to him was how hard it seemed to actually get a diagnosis. He was pretty sure he had read through a dozen entries which described unsuccessful trips to the doctor's office, begging to be taken seriously, begging to get laparoscopies done, only to be sent away with discouraging words that it's probably just a bad period or something like that.
He hated how similar it all was. How similar it was to what Emily had told him she had gone through.
He read of husbands and boyfriends, and girlfriends, on the same quest as he was on. Trying to figure out their significant other's condition, trying to be as supportive as they could be. Trying to understand.
He read of horror stories like the one he felt they were right in the middle of. But theirs wasn't the bloodiest by far. He was thankful for that. He couldn't imagine how scared he would have been if she had been bleeding a lot on top of all the pain.
He read of couples struggling to get pregnant, even with all the help available. And he read a few sunshine stories where someone finally had a child, some even after they were told they wouldn't be able to.
He read of those who FINALLY had their diagnosis. He could read how relieved they were to finally had a proper diagnosis to point to as the reason for all their symptoms. He read of people who didn't have anything show up on the imaging, ultrasound or MRI, but had stage four endometriosis when they finally had the exploratory surgery. He read of lower stages with crippling pain, and people with stage four who didn't have any pain and only found out because they had to have a random surgery for something else, or during some fertility work-up because they couldn't get pregnant.
The more he read, the more it hurt. That many women, trans men and other non-binary people not being heard when they voice their health concerns to professionals, and the way friends and family don't listen and believe them. The more he read, the angrier he got.
SEALTEAM
He had definitely lost track of time when a nurse came to inform him the surgery was over, it had gone according to the plan, and that Emily was transferred to the gynecology ward and that he could see her now.
He thanked her, and asked for directions.
"Third floor, C-wing."
He nodded, "Third floor, C-wing. Got it."