TW: mental health issues, depression, etc
I hope you're all still reading. Thank you to everyone who's commented for your thoughtful feedback x
"Could you wait outside?" Olivia asked a little nervously as she paused, holding her apartment keys in her hand, grimacing.
He noticed she had been uncomfortable the whole way back to her apartment and at first he worried that she was starting to feel uneasy about the night they'd shared together.
"Wait, what?" he laughed, "Seriously?" He was surprised, wondering why he suddenly wasn't welcome in her place. His incredulous laughter turned serious, thinking quickly if he had offended her last time with his talk about the smell of the hall or that she could do better than the place she was staying. He got ready to apologize.
"Yeah… I um…" her cheeks flushed, "I haven't been well…uh… emotionally," she murmured the last word gingerly, afraid of judgement, "and," she cleared her throat, "my apartment is … scary and I don't think I'm ready for you to see that part of me."
"Olivia," he cocked his head to the side, "Do you really think I'd judge you?" he asked kindly and she knew that he had no idea what he was in for.
"Umm…" she sighed, hesitating. No one had ever seen how bad things managed to get when she relived her trauma in the short spells that it came and went in. "Well, it's messy and I've not been in a good head space," she admitted talking herself in a little bit of a circle, "it smells and it's messy," she stammered.
"Okay," he nodded, trying to think of a way to make her feel okay about it, "well, I'm your friend and I'll help you clean up. If you have a clean environment, it will give your brain some reprieve from constantly thinking about the things you need to be doing while you're in a bad place." He tried to be logical, he knew that sometimes it wasn't about fixing the headspace, but rather the environment – at least that's how it worked for him.
"I'm scared you'll think I'm disgusting," she replied, pouting. She tried to keep some humour so that he wouldn't realize how badly she was internally freaking out. He gave her a warm smile and placed a hand upon her shoulder.
It was comforting and kind.
"Liv, please, its okay. I promise I won't think you're disgusting. I think you've been in your own head outside of your work hours and you are doing what you need to get through your trauma, if that's throwing yourself in bed and ignoring life responsibilities, I understand that because I've been there too… I promise." He smiled, "And besides," he slid his hand up toward her neck, caressing her jawline with his thumb, "it can't smell any worse in there than it does out here…"
She managed a chuckle. She felt his hand slide down behind her shoulder as she turned to unlock the door, his firm hand resting on the small of her back. She took a deep breath and pushed the door open and took a step inside.
Trevor hid his surprise. He knew she was concerned but he figured that the state of her apartment would be mild, that her idea of mess and dysfunction was a overflated. It was neat and tidy when he'd left her just a week or so back – but now….
She kicked her shoes off at the door and walked barefoot inside. His eyes swept around the room briefly; half empty glasses, wine glasses; empty wine bottles, opened food, clothes, medical books open and strewn around. And she was right, it did smell.
"Liv…. Why didn't you tell me you were feeling this bad?" he murmured.
She covered her face with her hands, mortified. He grabbed her and pulled her in to a hug. "It's okay," he said, "I'm not judging, I'm just worried about you. I know that mentally-well Olivia doesn't live like this, so its alright… it's just a little sign that you need a bit of help and there's no shame in that, you're the shrink, you know that."
"I'm just embarrassed," she breathed softly, trying so hard not to cry.
"Its fine," He let his hug linger for a moment as he looked around the living space – the kitchen was disgusting and full of empty food containers and empty alcohol bottles. He spied glass over the floor, a couple of smashed glasses and a hand towel spotted on the floor with a few spots of dried blood.
He could only imagine her having cut herself on some glass. He felt for her – she'd obviously encountered some kind of mental break down over the previous two weeks. There had been days when he'd caught her staring at work, or when she had avoided going home – her nights at work got later and her days arriving started earlier.
He understood.
At work she had everything together, when she got home she was alone and forced to think about all that she tried so hard to avoid.
He understood like no one else could have.
The mess reminded him of his own home after Thomas had died – his parent's lack of care for anything and everything but the ghost of their son. Trevor let it go on for weeks before realizing nobody was going to clean up or bother to properly shop to provide him with a basic level of care.
He would have given anything for his mother or father to acknowledge that they were grieving – to feel embarrassment for how they were living and how they were forcing Trevor to live.
"I don't want you to be embarrassed, we're friends, this is what friends do, they help pull each other back to their feet in shitty times, okay?" he said, pulling away.
She wasn't crying, but her eyes were watery. She blinked back tears.
"Okay, go … go get some work clothes on, your apartment isn't going anywhere. After work I can help you get through it, okay?"
"You don't hav-"
"Liv," he said firmly, "stop it, stop trying to push me away. I'm going to help you! We're going to come back here and put some of your trashy 80s music on and we're going to get through stuff that's making your place smell, get rid of some of this … glass… and then deal with the rest of it, I'm here to hold your hand through it, I'm your friend."
She nodded slowly, gazing in to his eyes. He nodded too. He gave her a small encouraging smile.
"Okay, I'll go have a quick shower and be ready in about 15 minutes."
"No problem," he replied.
/
Olivia tied her hair up and ignored the mess and the piled up dirty laundry on the floor of her bedroom, following a path of destruction in to her bathroom. There was make up strewn everywhere, used up toilet rolls on the floor, a pile of wet towels… she sighed, feeling deeply ashamed of herself but also a sense of relief that she had someone that now knew how bad she could get that would hold her accountable in the future.
She got in to the shower with a sigh, wiping away tears that escaped the moment that she was alone. The past 24 hours had left her wide open and deeply exposed and it was terrifying that she was allowing the man who was probably surveying her living space with disgust, a close up of what she was really like beneath the well-put-together masquerade.
/
Trevor avoided stepping on glass. He went in to the kitchen and rummaged around until he found a trash bag. He opened it up and began quickly shoving all of the rubbish he could find in to it. He wanted to get a start on it because it was disgusting and he didn't want her to live like that.
He threw away empty bottles, food wrappers, boxes, food that had been left out and was causing a smell. He went filled two bags very quickly and tied them up, leaving them by the front door. He stacked all of the dirty dishes and glasses neatly on the kitchen counter after finding a clean cloth to wipe it all down.
It already looked a lot better, he thought. He was about to get started on the glass when Olivia walked out.
"Shit…" she stopped, looking around, "Trevor…"
"What?" he asked, "Sorry, I just wanted to get started, you look gorgeous," he smiled. She was wearing a long, modest black contour dress that fell just above her knees with a magenta blazer over the top of it. Her hair was without a tiny stand out-of-place and thankfully the smell of her perfume overpowered the smell of the smell of rancid food.
She swallowed her protests. "I'm sorry…. Thank you Trevor… for not judging me… for not being so grossed out by me."
He smiled, "I'm a little grossed out – mostly by the food, never by you." He tested the water, wondering if she would be upset by his joke, but he came close to her, nudging her good-naturedly. "When we get back tonight we can do the rest of the stuff, the glass, the dishes, some of this laundry…"
"You're the best…" she murmured, picking up her handbag. She looked at him, not knowing how she could convey her appreciation. "I am actually overwhelmed by how wonderful you are."
"Well… come on, don't say that… my head still needs to fit out the door," he joked. She grabbed her keys and chuckled at him, knowing that he was really just doing a good job of playing down just how mentally unwell he had become aware that she was.
/
"Liv, what about you?" Meghan asked, trying to include the doctor in conversation.
Liv looked up from some notes she was scribbling on a clipboard. "Sorry, what?" she hadn't been paying attention to the two nurses chatting.
Meghan smiled warmly at Olivia, "Amanda and I were wondering, we're going out for drinks after work, do you want to come?" she asked.
Olivia smiled at them, "Oh guys, you are so sweet to try to include me, but I am too old for you guys, I'll just hold you back…" she replied with a laugh, putting the pen down and resting her arms on the top of the desk of the nurse's station.
"Noooo, don't be crazy, come on come hang out with us! We're not having a late night-" Amanda insisted.
"Maybe another night," Olivia replied, hating to seem like a stick-in-the-mud. "Thanks though, ask me next time and I promise I'll come."
"Okaaay, well if you change your mind, let us know." Meghan responded.
"Guys, how has Maisy been this morning?" she asked curiously, changing the subject.
"She's good, she's an absolute sweet heart, Mom hasn't left her side though, we've been trying to convince her to go have a rest." Amanda answered.
"Can we get Mom a place to go have a nap?" Liv asked, "is there a spare cot or a room that we can set up a cot?" she wondered.
Meghan went through the computer, looking for something. "Mmmmm I could probably do room 8. But if we need the bed…"
"Its fine, I think I can talk her in to an hour or so sleep, otherwise, I'll set her up a cot in my office if necessary, the poor thing, she's so worried about Maise…"
Meghan could tell it was a very close case for the doctor. She tried to be gentle, getting the sense that Olivia had a lot of layers to her personality – she was closely guarded but seemed to be very comfortable with Trevor.
"I'll go and talk to them in a second," she announced, putting the clipboards back in to order of how she found them. "Do you guys want anything? I'm going to go grab some lunch."
"Oh, I can put an order through if you like," Meghan offered.
"Nah, its okay, it'll be good to get some fresh air, can I get anything?" she smiled.
"I'm good, thanks," Meghan replied, eyeing the doctor, wondering what was going on. She seemed outwardly fine, but her smiles weren't genuine and her mind was elsewhere. She'd caught her staring a few times during the day.
"Can I get you some money, I'd love a diet coke."
"Don't worry, I got you," Liv replied, "I won't be long."
She made her way to her office to grab her purse. "Hey!" she glanced up, Trevor was sitting in his office with his door open. She felt a smile come to her lips involuntarily. He looked so sweet, a grin filling his face to see her which warmed her through.
She lifted her hand to wave and continued on in to her office and grabbed her purse.
"Hey… what's up?" he asked, as she came back out ready to walk right by. She watched him get up from his desk to meet her in the hall. "Do you have a second?" he glanced at her purse.
"I'm just going to get some lunch, I'm hungry."
"I'll come for the walk…" he opted.
"Trevor, its okay, I think I just need some fresh air…" she told him honestly. He stared at her a little longer, trying to determine whether or not she was upset with him. Before he could ask, she answered for him, "We're good, I'm just… I have a lot of things on my mind as you can imagine…"
"Okay… you need space, I get it," he respected her boundary but it didn't stop him from having a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
"Its not really that either," she tried but eventually sighed. "I just … have a lot of feelings that are overwhelming to me today after last night. I just need to reorganise my brain a little. I love that you are so supportive and such a good…." She paused, for whatever reason, the word didn't seem equipped enough to quantify what he was to her, "friend to me," she finished, "but last night was big for me, Trevor and I really just need to process it all."
"I understand," he nodded. "I'll give you space but I'm still keeping my promise to help you tonight."
"Okay…thank you. Do you want anything from downstairs?"
"Oooh, can you get me a pastry? I have a li'l sweet tooth thing going on at the minute."
Olivia laughed. "Sure, anything in particular?"
He shrugged, "Surprise me."
"Gotcha… I'll leave it on your desk if you're not in here."
/
It was around 3 in the afternoon and Olivia had checked her foot twice for the little tiny feeling of a rock or something that was digging in from her shoe. It had begun to hurt and made her wince every time she stepped on it.
She moved around Maisy's bed, checking on things. Trevor was officially her doctor, but she couldn't help herself, she still checked her pulse and her sats. "You've still got your teddy bear," Olivia remarked, smiling at the little girl.
"I love him," Maisy admitted.
"Honey, do you think we could have a chat for a little while without Mom?" she asked.
Maisy avoided Olivia's eyes but nodded.
"Great, I'm just going to shut the door so whatever you say is private, okay?" Maisy watched Olivia close the door and come and sit down on the edge of her bed.
"So Maisy, yesterday morning when you came in here you weren't responding and you really scared your Mom."
"I know," she whispered.
"You gave me a fright too."
The little girl said nothing. Olivia took her hand. "No one is mad, Maisy, I promise. Mom's not mad and I'm definitely not mad, but I am worried about you and I want to talk about what happened leading up to you taking all of those pills."
"I don't want to talk about it," she said softly.
"Can I tell you something?" Olivia asked her.
Maisy nodded.
"Sometimes we have secrets that feel really big and we lock them up inside of us so tightly that it makes our insides feel black and full of yuckiness, like that feeling when you get a pain in the belly from eating bad food… but it's more than that because its all we can think of, right?"
She nodded.
"I had a secret like that too and just recently I told my doctor about it because holding it in was hurting me more than it hurt to let it out…" she explained.
"The kids at school are so mean to me, they hurt me and make fun of me and I can't tell Mom because she's already so sad all the time."
Olivia listened to her and felt for her. "What kind of things do they say to you?" she wondered.
"They make fun of me because I am so small and my teacher told everyone that I have medical problems and she made me tell the class all about it so now they make fun of everything. They always ask me when I'm going to die, they ask if I'm so ugly because of my medical problem or if God just hated me so much and wanted to give me this awful face too."
"Firstly," Olivia began, watching tears spill from the little girl's eyes, like a dam breaking – all of the words that she wanted to keep inside were released and with it, it brought the relief. "I am so sorry that your teacher did that to you. Your health concerns are private and he or she had no right to do that to you, Maisy. Secondly, you are not ugly and God does not hate you."
She sniffed. "I am ugly. I am never gonna be pretty and boys are never going to like me because I look like I'm 7," she told Olivia.
It was breaking her heart to see the little girl so concerned with what her peers thought of her and she was furious with the teacher for taking away her right to discuss her health issues with who she chose.
"That's just not true, sweetheart. I think you are beautiful and yes, you might look younger but I promise when you are older that is going to work entirely within your favour," Olivia promised.
"You have to say that, you're my doctor…" she sighed.
"Oh shoot-" a voice from behind them, "sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt," Trevor flashed them both a smile.
"No, it's alright," Olivia replied, "Maisy and I are just having a chat."
"I just came in to speak with Mom…" he told Maisy and Olivia. "Is she getting some air?" he wondered.
"No," Olivia shook her head, flashing him a smile, "I sent her to go and have a nap, she's in bed 8."
Trevor chuckled at Olivia knowingly. He knew that the nurses wouldn't have wanted to fill a bed in that way, but they would have agreed to it just because she pushed for it. "Okay, well, hopefully she's having a nice rest, how are you feeling, sweetheart?" he asked Maisy.
"Okay," she replied – her tone was a little hollow and Trevor glanced at Olivia for her confirmation. He could tell he interrupted a conversation because she was crying.
"Her SATs are good, temperature is good, HR is a little high but it might be due to her current condition," she filled him in.
"Hmm, maybe. I'm going to order some more blood work. There's a few things but nothing major, just something that may be causing Maisy here to feel a little weak and tired."
She glanced from Olivia to Trevor and wondered for the moment. "Am I sick still?" she asked Trevor.
"No honey, I got your blood results back and it shows that you're lacking some proteins," he replied. He hated that he'd interrupted something, but he could tell Maisy was curious.
"What does that mean?" she asked with slight alarm.
"It's nothing serious. When you lack proteins, you can feel tired and weak. So, I just want to get some more blood and check again, it might just be because there was still some meds in your system from the other day, it might come back normal – but if not, we can give you something to help put those proteins back in your blood and you might feel less…" he paused, "blerg."
"Oh…" she replied. "Okay."
"You don't need to worry," Trevor assured her. "I promise."
Maisy nodded. Trevor glanced at Olivia, "Well, I'll leave you both to it, sorry for interrupting again."
"Dr. Trevor," Maisy called as he was about to leave.
"Yes?" he turned and gave her a warm look.
"Am I gonna get big?" she asked softly. Olivia felt her a pang inside of her, she really felt for the little girl who just wanted to fit in and be normal.
"What do you mean?" he wondered cautiously as he took a few steps back toward the bed.
Maisy looked to Olivia to help her explain. "Do you want me to tell Dr. Trevor what happened?" she wondered, clarifying, not wanting to tell something that was private between them.
She nodded and shrugged.
Trevor pulled up a chair and sat down.
He looked at Olivia expectantly. He almost smiled at her as she sat perched on the edge of the bed, her legs crossed, looking slightly uncomfortable. "Maisy has had some problems with some kids at school, they know about her medical situation and have been mean and nasty and she's upset because her appearance makes her look a lot younger than her classmates."
"Oh…" Trevor thought for a moment, "Honey, you know you have a very rare disease," he told her gently, "and when you were a tiny baby inside your Mom's tummy, things developed a little differently to the way other baby's develop – when there's a unique development, it can affect the way you go forward in life-" he explained, trying to be patient and gentle with her. "so now you're 11 and you appear smaller than your friends-"
"They're not my friends, they hate me."
"They don't hate you, they just don't know how to deal with different people," Olivia corrected her.
"Dr Olivia is right," he added, "You are very special, Maisy, when you get to the age where you start becoming a young woman, you will be the same as all the other girls that you go to school with, you just might be a bit smaller, you might not be overly tall, but everything will work exactly as it should…"
Olivia got up, noticing that Maisy was about to begin to cry. She circled around to the other side of her bed. Trevor gave Olivia a weak smile. "Its okay to be upset, Maisy, sometimes things that happen in our lives just don't feel fair and there's no shame in being sad about it, but … there's definitely some positives from what you go through."
Olivia put her arms around the small child. They both looked at Trevor, waiting for him to continue. Olivia nodded at him, as if to spur him on.
"You are unique. I know right now it seems like being different totally sucks, but when you're a bit older, you'll realize that you have a more mature understanding of the world and that makes you emotionally intelligent. You have an incredibly mature sense of humour that other kids your age just wouldn't understand… Olivia and I love how funny you are."
"And don't tell anyone this, but you're one of my favourites." Olivia added as she gave the girl a little squeeze.
Trevor was happy to see a tiny smile surface upon her thin lips. "What do I do with the kids that are mean to me?" she asked, finally.
"We talk to Mom about them," Olivia told her, "and we talk to Mom about the teacher and see what we can do differently to support you through that."
"Okay," she agreed.
Trevor smiled. "Kiddo, if you need to ask me any questions, you just have to ask one of the nurses to come and find me, okay?"
"Thanks Dr. Langan."
"Trev," he gave her a wink, correcting her.
"Thank you Trevor," Olivia said gratefully.
/
"What's wrong with your foot?" Trevor asked, watching Olivia leave Amy's room with a limp late in the afternoon. He was putting files away and chatting with the girls about their dinner plans.
"Nothing, why?" she asked, but realized quickly that he'd noticed her walking uncomfortably.
"It's not nothing you're limping…" he remarked, motioning toward her stilted gait.
Meghan and another nurse, Clare watched on, staring at the interaction between the two doctors, between them the knowing of something on the cusp of romance brewing.
"No, I mean, I'm fine, I just have something in my foot, I haven't had the chance to have a proper look under the light. I may have stepped on something," she replied. She knew he would figure it out.
"Come on, let's have a look," he nodded toward his office.
"I'm quite capable of checking out my own injuries, thanks, Trevor," she shot back rolling her eyes dramatically at the nurses. "Is he always this much of a drama queen?" she asked.
"Olivia," he sighed with frustration, "please stop being so damn stubborn," he told her trying not to show his frustration.
Meghan pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh and turned away to do something else.
"Oh for goodness sakes!" she exclaimed, "come on, come and get your tweezers out and your head lamp on and check out my foot, I'm sure you can do it better than I can with all your extra years of med school spent on dislodging glass splinter particles!"
"Oh you guys, get a room!" Clare remarked with a peel of laughter at their sniping.
Olivia didn't say a word, she limped ahead of him, doing her very best to walk normally as he paced behind her with frustration, a little irate with the way she acted in front of the nurses.
He closed the door behind them. "What was that?!" he asked, "why were you so rude to me out there?"
"Me?" she laughed, "are you kidding? I don't want anyone to know we're –" she stopped short, she didn't know how to label it.
"We're friends?!" he finished for her, making her feel a little disheartened.
"Yeah… friends," she retreated. "I don't want people to start rumours about me," she added a little quieter.
He retreated too, realizing that her reaction was just based on her traumatic past. "Just let me have a look at this glass…" he nodded toward the examination bed. "Up you get, I need the light."
She did what she was told and sat up on the examination table, needing a step up. She sat down, her legs dangling off the edge. She removed one of her pink heels and lifted her leg, crossing it over her knee.
Trevor stood brought his chair around, spinning the wheels closer to her and pulled the examination lamp around so that he could see better. She felt his hand firmly resting on her calf muscle. She couldn't help the gooseflesh that arose upon her skin from his touch.
He pretended not to notice but they both had.
"Show me wher-" he paused, "oh, I see it, its very red and I can catch the glass in the light…" he stood up straight and went to grab some tweezers and a magnifier.
He returned back. Olivia felt him take her foot in her hands. She almost jumped. He chuckled. "Ticklish, huh?"
"A little… but don't even think about it, I'll kick you in your unmentionables if you even attempt to tickle me ever," she warned him, not playing around.
He started to laugh, "you need to chill out, Liv, I am not going to tickle you…" he closely inspected the tiny shard of glass. "Ooh no wonder it hurts," he told her, "it looks pretty deep, did you do this this morning?"
"I don't think so," she winced. "I've felt it for a few days." She was very aware of his one hand gripping her ankle holding her leg still. She hoped her legs weren't spiky, it had been a day or two since she'd been able to go over them with a razor.
"I'm gonna have to dig it out…" he told her, "sorry, but its already inflamed and if you leave it in there you could get an infection."
Olivia sighed. "Leave it, I can do it later…"
He gave her a look. "You're here now, what's your problem? Why are you so allergic to me helping you?" he wondered, glowering at her with annoyance.
She breathed a sigh and looked to the ceiling with frustration. "Because, Trevor," she blurted out, "you can't just suddenly be my saviour because I told you some deeply personal shit!" she exploded with irritation.
He got up calmly and headed to his surgical instruments. He knew she wasn't going anywhere and he wasn't about to let her.
She seemed even more impatient with his calmness. He picked up what he needed and came to sit back down. "Olivia," he began, touching her knee with his hand. "I'm not trying to be your saviour, I'm trying to be your friend. It doesn't seem much like you've ever really had any real friends, so maybe your idea of what a friend does is a bit skewed. But this, this is what friends do…"
"Do they kiss in the dark, too?" she wondered, crossing her arms petulantly at him.
He couldn't help but to let out a peel of laughter, blushing slightly. "Well… I mean that's just a tiny added bonus of this unique friendship…" he stumbled through, hoping that she wouldn't be offended.
She felt his thumb swiping the skin of her knee affectionately. She did not hate it and it did not make her feel any level of discomfort.
"Now, can you shut up and let me get rid of this fucking glass?" he asked.
She sighed, lifting her foot back over her knee. He went to work, digging slightly at her skin with the sharp instrument. "Sorry," he apologized when she flinched.
"Oh, I'm sure this works with all of your kid patients," she couldn't help but to remark bitterly. "Oh, sorry little Sally, I just bludgeoned your foot trying to remove a splinter…"
"Nah, most of my kid patient's are far braver than you are…" he retorted with a cheeky grin. He put down the instrument and picked up a pair of tweezers.
"Ouch! Fuck, Trevor!" she ripped her foot out of his grasp.
"Oh my goodness," he murmured beneath his breath, "are you kidding me? Olivia I barely touched you – who would have thought, the woman who has all the qualifications, who is happy to cut other people open can't handle a little tiny prod of a set of tweezers…"
"I don't know Trevor, maybe because when I'm cutting my patients, they're knocked out cold – maybe you'd better look in to some kind of localized anaesthetic if you're planning on being this rough with your own."
"Just shut up! I've almost got it out, stop being such a baby." He looked at her and immediately felt bad, her face was tense, wincing as if he was genuinely hurting her. "Oh come on, it's not that bad… is it?" he asked, realizing that maybe he wasn't being as gentle as he thought.
"Yes! It hurts!" she shot back, exasperated with him.
"Okay, I'm sorry," he apologized at last, he held her foot tightly. "I'll be more gentle, it's just under the surface of your skin and I feel like it's probably been there for awhile because it's really red, how long has that glass been on your floor?" he wondered.
"I dunno…" she murmured.
"Tell me, it's alright," he said gently, looking up at her.
"Maybe a week and a half… since the night you were hanging out with me." She admitted.
"Okay so potentially it's been there more than a week, it's probably tender because it's halfway to being infected," he replied. "Do you want me to localise it with some anesthetic?" he asked kindly.
"Mmmm… maybe." He gave her a smile. He wasn't banking on her being so bothered by the pain of a tiny bit of glass in her foot. She was a strong woman, that was for certain, but she was clearly a baby when it came to her pain threshold.
"What?" she asked, expectant.
"Just… you're being a little bit cute…" she couldn't help but to smile back at him. "Don't make me like you when you're hurting me."
He chuckled and got up and headed in to a locked supply drawer. He took a syringe out of his locked cabinet and found the tiny bottle of anesthetic that he was looking for. He made his way back over to her. "Are you sure you're going to be okay with getting a needle in your foot?" he wondered, "it won't cause you too much pain?"
She glared at him from beneath her eyebrows.
"Wait, shit," he laughed, "do you have any allergies or anaphylaxis?" he wondered.
"No."
He took put the sterile needle together and pressed the needle point in to the tiny bottle of anesthetic and drew out a few mls.
"Okay, hold still," he warned her. He held her heel firmly. Surprisingly him, she covered his hand with hers.
"I hate needles," she told him by way of explanation, "but I hate people digging in to my foot even worse as it turns out," she added.
He lifted his hand, lacing his fingers through hers. "Okay, give my hand a squeeze if you need, but not too hard…" he offered.
He injected in two spots and discarded the needle and let it sit for a moment. "Was that okay?"
She nodded, "Yeah… your injecting skills are far better than your foraging skills," she managed a smile. He came back and went to work at removing the glass from her foot without complaint. It made the process a lot quicker and easier without her gasping and flinching every few seconds.
"Got it!" he announced. It was covered slightly in a tiny bit of blood. "Look how tiny it is?" he held it up to the light. "Hard to believe something so small could cause you to carry on so loudly," he joked, giving her a little wink.
"I hate you," she muttered.
He laughed, "No you don't, you couldn't hate me if you wanted to. Now, sit tight until that wears off. I have to take these to be sterilised and I'll get you a band aid… or would you prefer a splint and some crutches?" he teased.
"Fuck you!" she couldn't help but to laugh at his jibing.
/
"So what's all this…?" Trevor asked Olivia nodding toward text books that lay open all over the coffee table. She folded the pages so she wouldn't lose where she was and closed them, putting them to the side so that she would wipe everything on the table down.
"Nothing, I was just looking for something," she lied.
Trevor said nothing, he took a big gulp of his soda before placing it back down again. He looked around at her apartment and it already looked back to the way it was when he'd arrived the first time.
He'd gone around and opened all the windows to let some fresh air in.
"Thanks for helping me do all this, I promise you'll never witness it like that again," she told him, feeling embarrassed about the whole thing.
"Its okay if I do… it didn't take that long to clean," he shrugged, "and it's always nice to hang out."
She managed a smile. She picked up her burger and took a bite. "I need to do a grocery order… I need to just try harder in general," she told him. "It's hard when you don't have to answer to anyone or have anyone to hold you accountable."
"I know, my eating habits slip a bit from time to time… I just order meals and if something looks good at the hospital I steal one," he chuckled in spite of himself.
"Somewhere in some ward there's a hungry mouth crying for food," she joked.
It was nice to share a laugh with someone.
"So," Trevor sat beside her, "I ask again, what's with the books… are you still interested in surgery?"
She shook her head and then shrugged. "Maybe… I don't know. I was just doing some research about Maisy's condition and what we could do for her… I know it's your expertise, but…"
"No, its okay," he assured her, "you're allowed to have a medical opinion, you are a doctor."
"I keep thinking that maybe she could be eligible for a reconstruction of her heart, a partial donation – and that's the stem of the issue right?" she asked Trevor.
"Yeah of course, but there's ramifications for the rest of it, at the base of it, her genetic disease is going to eventually affect all of the organs."
"But it's a vital organ based genetic issue, it has got no evidence to suggest it will affect her vision or her skin – her circulatory system, her blood, everything is fine. What if we were to transplant whatever needs the most help— liver and kidney, right? How are her lungs?"
"Her lungs are good," Trevor nodded. He paused, hating to burst her bubble. "Olivia," he began. She looked at him, he regarded her with a weak smile. "We can't save them all…" he told her. "Even the ones that we want to work so hard for, we're not super heroes. It's our job to make whatever life they're going to have as comfortable as possible."
He watched her eyes film over. She blinked them away and looked away from him. "But we shouldn't stop trying to find new ways to help."
"I agree," he said sincerely, "but the answer isn't to become so consumed by every patient that really triggers something inside of us…"
She whipped around to face him accusingly with fiery eyes. "Fuck you, Trevor," she snapped, "don't you dare."
"What?" he was shocked by her aggressive outburst. "Are you kidding, don't speak to me like that, I'm not just some asshole you passed on the street," he shot back.
Feeling reproached, she reeled herself back in. "Don't do that, don't assume that I'm triggered by my job."
"I didn't say that," he sighed and ran a hand through his hair which was greying slightly around the frame of his face. He paused for a second and took a deep breath, "I was actually talking about myself… with Justin, he hit hard because it was a case that reminded me of my brother and brought up my grief, it's not always about you."
Hurt, Olivia blinked at him. "No," he said quickly, "that's not how I meant it to come out…shit…"
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Olivia wasn't sure if she wanted to hug him or tell him to go home.
"Liv?" he wasn't game to touch her. "Liv, that must have sounded really hurtful, what I just said and I didn't mean it to be, I just meant that… some of these kids reflect back our own issues and we want to put in all the care that we didn't get when we needed it. We don't want them to feel like we did, alone, isolated, lonely – all of those things." He paused and when she didn't say anything, he continued, "I know better than anyone about letting a patient's illness consume me – but sometimes the pain of the constant treatments and trials outweigh the quality of life."
"If I were Maisy's mother I would want everyone to do what they could and to try to come up with something so that even if she doesn't live to be 90, she might have a long, decent and semi-normal life," she replied in a whisper.
"I know," he said softly.
"So, please don't try to talk me out of wanting to study things as closely as possible and if I come to the end of the line with it, at least I'll know that I did my best."
"Okay…" he nodded. "Well," he drew in a deep breath, "what can I do to help?"
She shrugged.
They sat with their own thoughts for a moment.
"Olivia, do you ever think about going back in to medicine?" he asked, point-blank.
"In a perfect world…" she replied, "but I like what I do…"
He thought for a moment, "what if you were to help out at the cath lab or the day surgery or something one day a week?" he suggested, "they're always begging for people up there."
Olivia shrugged. "How would I fit all the kids in?"
"You'd figure it out, Liv…"
She shrugged again. "I don't really know what I want right now," she admitted. "I don't know if I'm coming or going most of the time… work is what gives me a sense of purpose."
Trevor felt jarred by her emptying her heart of all of the words that she'd never spoken out loud before.
"I do feel like that to a small degree," he commiserated with her. "But I hope for things too, I hope for a wife – human interaction, being able to relate deeply with another person…" he added, "those things are important…"
She drew in a deep breath and sighed. She didn't want to talk anymore. "Thanks for your help today, I really appreciate it," she finally looked at him, "and for not judging me…"
He nodded. "If you need to talk or … are feeling like you're spiralling, please, always just call me or text me…"
"Thanks," she said again.
It was almost 9pm, he sensed that she wanted some space. "Okay Liv, I'm gonna go home, give you some time to chill out before bed and I'm gonna need an early night myself."
"Okay…" she got up too and walked him to the door.
"Goodnight Olivia, try to get some sleep, okay?"
"I will," she replied. She was also a little tired.
He lingered for a moment with his house keys in his hands, standing in the doorway. She couldn't help but let her eyes linger over his tall, handsome frame. He was so fucking beautiful to look at that sometimes it hurt.
"Liv, are you… are you okay?" he asked, looking up, stammering on his words as though he was afraid of the answer.
She stared at him and rose her eyebrow. "What are you asking?" she wondered.
"I'm concerned, I guess. Are you going to be alright or do you need someone to be with you?" he wondered.
"I'm fine," she said sincerely, realizing that what she said earlier may have caused some alarm for him. "I'm not experiencing any kind of suicidal ideation if that's what you're wondering. I'm just processing all the things I said out loud over the past 24 hours, there's a part of me that doesn't want to be alone but I think I do need to be, to at least not be distracted and to organize my thoughts."
"K," he agreed.
"Goodnight Liv." He held his arms open and she stepped in to him, letting him envelope her in his warm friendship.