Hello!
I have returned with another random Tuesday post!
I've got another exam this week and then I've got a short break, then...only another 8 to go! But I'm surviving, just about.
Love has not been neglected in this time so don't worry! I'm a 'productive procrastinator' which means I've actually been spending more time writing, not less XD.
Enjoy! :)
Derek always did his best to get out of bed quietly (or rather, started always doing his best to get out bed quietly once Meredith had started sleeping round), but he wasn't often successful.
For most people, it could take literally one second for them to get out of bed without a single noise apart from perhaps a small squeak from the bed springs. There was only one opportunity for noise there.
However, as a T10 paraplegic, Derek couldn't do any of those things. He couldn't sit up just with his abdominal muscles and lower back, because he had very, very little control over both, and he certainly couldn't spring to his feet. So, slowly but surely, every morning he'd have to sit up with his elbows, then his palms; then chuck his covers off completely for full access to his legs; then grasp at one leg, then the other, then the other again to get it a bit closer to the edge, before eventually managing to be sat on the border; then, after all that, he had to adjust his chair's position; and then get off the bed. All that to get out of bed.
He still remember when he met Meredith, and she'd called him a lazy asshole. He'd replied with the fact that getting out of his house in the morning took more effort but, some days, he felt like he could have just said getting out of bed, and that that would have actually been an accurate enough comparison.
And, of course, most importantly, the big thing about being a paraplegic getting out of bed compared to a non-paraplegic getting out of bed was the many, many, many, many, many opportunities for noise. So, when he looked round and found her awake, he wasn't surprised.
"Sorry." He whispered, almost mouthed.
"It's...five in the morning-" She muttered after a quick glance to the alarm clock.
"Need to phone the chief. Need cover." He explained as he pushed himself to her side of the bed.
"The chief is awake at five in the morning?" She asked next. She couldn't help the fact that her mouth had perked up, just a little at his presence beside her.
"The chief doesn't sleep. You get special awake-ness powers when you're handed the position." He replied. "Or...perhaps I just know that he wakes up early on a Tuesday."
She smiled. "If I stay awake for you, will there be sex?" She pondered.
He smiled back. "You'll have to wait and see, won't you?"
"Teaser." She muttered as she watched him leave the room.
He paused in the kitchen, sure he was out of earshot from Meredith so she could doze off again if she wanted to before making the call.
"Ah- Derek, a rather early call for...anyone, really. Are you okay?" Richard pondered, acknowledging the time.
"I'm desperately hoping you can swap two of my shift: Today's and tomorrow's. If not, I need the day off or..." He paused. "-some kind of accommodation arranged, hence the early call."
"Your SCI acting up?" He asked, worried. "You know if you ever need to see someone I'm happy to do some pushing of our orthopaedic attendings to get you in quickly."
"It's actually one of my eyes. And I kind of need to be able to see to operate so I'm not convinced I'm going to be awfully good at my job."
"Why? What's happened?"
"Oh- right." He breathed. He forgot about that bit. "I was teaching Meredith how to put up a Christmas tree, and she...she failed, basically." He replied. There wasn't really any other way to put it. "It started okay, I suppose, but it ended with her pulling two halves of the tree apart and the end of said tree hitting me right in the face. Corneal abrasion, I've already got antibiotics and had it checked out, and it's fine but just a little blurry still."
"Right. I'll see what I can do. I hope that eye of yours heals up, Shepherd."
"And, actually-"
"Mmm?"
"Can I take you up on that offer? The one about our orthopaedic surgeons- and a CT mylo too."
"You are struggling then? What's going on?"
"I was in pain, I am in pain, and I will be in pain for many years to come; the usual. It's the life of a paraplegic, Richard. Just...I like to check if anyone has invented a cure for all this yet, you know? See if there's any hope- scar tissue surgery, new drugs, new metalwork and all."
"Hope of...recovery?" He asked slowly, surprised.
"God, no, not of recovery-recovery. I'm not that optimistic." He replied. "Just for the pain, I mean."
"Right." He agreed. That made much more sense. "I'll see what I can do."
"You're not smiling."
She looked round to him. "Mmm?"
"You're not smiling after sex. And you have to smile after sex."
"Why? Am I hurting your ego?" She joked.
He smiled. "I have no ego. I'm just worried about you."
"I am fine." She replied with a short smile.
"Are you?" He pondered.
"Are you?" She repeated. She continued when he didn't reply, "I heard you talking to the chief."
"About?"
"Seeing some more doctors, having some more scans- something about surgery as well." She replied, worry clear as day in her eyes.
"I have a lot of scans. And I see a lot of doctors. And I go to lots of appointments. That's just...what it's like for me, Mer. You don't need to worry about that."
"But you're in pain."
"Manageable pain. I'd rather not be reliant on pain killers to get out of bed in the morning, but I do get out of bed in the morning and that's what's important."
"What about when your organs can't cope anymore? You're a doctor, you know what taking certain things long-term can do to your body. What about when your brain gets so used to the drugs that you're taking morphine daily just to get some kind of relief? Then what?"
He stared at her with nothing to say for a very long time. She held very valid points...ones that he couldn't rebuttal. "I just...have to hope that by that day, someone would have come up with something to help me. Something...not involving quite so many pills."
"What if they don't?"
That statement he truly had no way of replying to.
"I saw how many pills are in your bathroom cupboard- I was looking for toothpaste or something one day and I looked in there and- and I remember you telling me about how you're iron man, but in a sucky way. In a way that means you're made of titanium because all your bones are dust. In a way...that means you're in pain. A lot. When you're still, when you're active, when you're...just existing. I can't imagine what it must be like to be in pain when just existing, Derek, I can't."
"I have things that make the pain worth it- things that make living worth it- things that make going out and doing things despite all the pain and annoyance it brings worth it though, don't I?" He swallowed. "Like you. You...Meredith Grey, make pain worth it. A day with you makes a lifetime of pain worth it. I promise."
"Jerome Hart, nine-years-old, suffers from osteogenesis inperfecta type III. Here today for an IM rod in the left femur as a preventative measure for his OI. The right was done about a year ago, and was successful in preventing breaks."
"Dr Grey, tell me about Type III OI."
"Um- it's one of the most severe types of OI. Of course causes brittle bones, and also can impact growth and development in multiple areas."
"And an IM rod?"
"An intramedullary rod. Uh- a metal rod inserted through the canal of the femur along the femoral shaft to stabilise the leg. Normally, it's for a fracture that needs alignment."
"Good." Derek replied with a quick smile before looking back to his patient. "Now we've got all of that out of the way, tell me about how you've been."
The boy smiled. "I broke my twenty-seventh bone."
"Interesting thing to smile about." Dr Masters, the orthopaedic surgeon, couldn't help but note.
"Oh, he's not smiling because he's happy about breaking his arm, he's happy because it means he's beaten me." Derek replied.
"Beaten you?" The man repeated.
"Most broken bone award. It now goes to Jerome. I...have to give up my crown, hand over my trophy, throw out my medals." Derek explained.
"You've broken twenty...six bones, Dr Shepherd?"
"Three as a child if it makes it less shocking. Nose, obviously; ankle; wrist. Classic childhood breaks." He replied. "Oh, and actually three of those were dislocations, not breaks, but we decided to count them in our competition to equalise the playing field, seeing as J as OI and I don't. But, actually J-"
"Yeah?" Jerome pondered when Derek looked to him.
"I have had a new kidney since we last saw each other."
"Kidney? Like the beans?"
He smiled. "Exactly, J."
"And your eye!"
Damn. This morning he was sure the injury was hardly noticeable in the mirror, but apparently he was wrong about that. Then again, he was rather worried that he'd get a full-on black eye from the injury, so he was probably just so busy trying to focus on that fact that his rather red sclera didn't seem too important. "Noticeable then?"
Jerome's mother smiled. "Are you okay, Dr Shepherd? Getting in fights?"
"Uh- yes, actually." He confirmed. "I lost, clearly."
"Who were you beating up?" Jerome asked, intrigued.
"Um...well, it was a one sided fight...with my Christmas tree."
The boy smiled. "Uh oh."
"Uh oh indeed." He chuckled. "But, back to you J-"
"And my broken arm?"
"Yes, because...this calls for-" Derek paused as he removed his backpack from the back of his chair. He rummaged around for a while before pulling a piece of paper out. It used to live in his locker, but he moved it after hearing that Jerome would be in today. "-a revision of this certificate."
He giggled. "I get it?"
"Yes, you do, J." Derek agreed, placing the paper on the side and pulling out a pen. He drew a line through his own name, then wrote his name there. He presented it to the boy with a smile.
He took it with a similar smile. "Look, Mommy, I beat Doctor Derek!"
She smiled at her son's grin. She thought it was all a little strange - just like Derek - but she was happy to do whatever she needed to do to make her boy happy, and if that involved broken-bone-competitions, she was happy to giggle with him over a new break. She knew Derek did it for a similar reason.
"Now, Dr Grey, let's get Jerome prepped."
"Everything you say about being a crappy father is bull-crap, you do know that?"
He looked up. They had been sat in silence for a while, both reading, so it was rather abrupt. "What?"
"You and Jerome- or J. You two seem close."
"He was one of my first patients. Took a long time."
"The number one thing about parenting is...well, I'm not sure there's a 'number one thing' but-" She paused. "One of the key things about parenting is lying, pretending you understand, and going along with your child's crazy ideas. The child gives you tea in a plastic cup, you drink it, or...the child wants to play and the lion starts flying, you stay silent and accept that. It's a big rule in parenting, and you followed it amazingly."
He smiled. "Partially because I'm literally just a big kid at heart."
"Big kid or not, you're still good. The fact that you're just being yourself doesn't reduce that massively positive about you, Derek."
"Is this how it's going to be now?" He wondered.
"Mmm?"
"You're going to convince me to have kids one point at a time until I'm ready." He elaborated.
"Perhaps." She smirked before asking hopefully, "Why- do you think it might work?"