"Right." Hank ticks the points off on his big, blue digits. "First, rest, sleep. Sleep some more. Go to bed, stay there. Sleep. When you're bored of sleep, roll over and go back to sleep.
Second, fluids, lots of water, juice, warm drinks, tea is good. No coffee. Soup. Jewish penicillin.
Third, take you meds, on time, every time. Finish the antibiotics. They're pretty strong, so they might upset your gut, let me know if they do, I'll send another prescription, but don't stop taking them.
Four, and this is important, no exercise. None. Nada. Null. Nein. Got that? Nothing that increases your heart rate or breathing."
"I don't think I could..." Kurt pauses for a breath. "...right now."
Hank scowls. "You say that, but, remember, I know you. No exercise for at least a week. No gym. No training. No early morning calisthenics. Not even Yoga. Nothing."
He glances over at Kurt's watchdogs. "Bed. Sleep. Keep him there, even when he's feeling, and I quote 'better'. He's not better until I give the say so. Got it? That goes double for feeling 'fine'." They nod, obediently. He turns his attention back to his patient. "I hope I don't have to mention this, but just to be on the safe side, no teleporting." Kurt bows his head, looks away. "Say it..."
"Yes, Hank."
"Good. Bed. Sleep. Read a book. Read a dozen books. But most of all, rest. Am I making myself clear?"
"Yes, Hank."
"Right, he's all yours." He hands the prescription bag to Jean. The list of care and feeding instructions to Ororo. Logan starts pushing the wheelchair out of The Healing Gardens. "Good luck." He says to Scott as he follows the entourage. Scott gives him a slightly desperate look, Hank raises his hands, he's done his best.
He goes back to his paperwork.
Three days. He gives it three days before Kurt is feeling well enough to do something he's proscribed from doing. Hank sighs, they'll cross that bridge when they come to it.