just_muse_me | 30.2. Communication
Co-written with imheretolive
[Follows THIS]
It had been a long procedure, and Chris was relieved they were now on the home straight of it. Proctor had worked on the liver, discovering more damage than the CT showed once they had the man opened up, while Chris had consistently worked on removing the bullet and repairing the damage to the bowel. He had to take a small section of it in the process, the damage too much to repair without a bleed out. It had been a close range gunshot wound. The guy was never going to escape without some sort of mess to his insides. Chris wet his lips behind the surgical mask at a pause in his suturing and glanced up at Proctor over the operating table. There were other staff in the OR, mostly nurses, but Chris didn't really care if they overheard. By now, it was no secret that Rick was in the oncology ward of the main hospital. Kathy and gang had been working overtime with the gossip in the few days Chris and Serena had off. The sleeping pill had Chris sleeping for fourteen hours straight, when he woke to groggily use the bathroom before stumbling back to bed and sleeping another eight hours. He felt a lot better when he had woken up, his appetite back, and refreshed sensation after he took a shower and had a shave. He still found himself quite lethargic for the remainder of their days off, though, and in between brief visits to Rick at the hospital, Chris and Serena had taken it easy, watching old movies with Chris sleeping regularly over the time.
At least he had felt somewhat normal that morning for work, mostly back in form. At least, until he had received a brief phone call from Dr Bella Watson when he had been literally elbows-deep in bloody vomit from his patient. At hearing who the caller was, Chris still wanted to talk to her, and only succeeded in doing so with Tuck holding the phone to his ear. It had been a very brief conversation, to say the least. "I, uh... was wondering if you would mind be knocking off around four today," he asked the elusive English physician across from him, realising he was bracing himself for Proctor to immediately say no. "I know it's short notice," he added.
Proctor stilled his tweezers around the suture needle and waited for the nurse to suction a little more of the blood from the incision sight. He met Chris' gaze at the question, eyebrows raising behind his surgical glasses. "Is everything okay, Chris?" he asked and went back to intently closing over the incision site. Contrary to popular belief, he had been extensively worried about Chris of late. It definitely was no secret the older Deleo brother was receiving oncological treatment in the hospital, but Proctor knew there were even deeper things at play for Chris. He just wasn't privy to what, and wouldn't be until the Chief Resident opened a little more.
"No," Chris admitted honestly, figuring now was as good a time as any to be honest with Proctor. The guy had been honest with Chris about his concern when Chris was in the sinkhole... admitting that he classified Chris as a friend. Chris just had to find his feet with that, and realise Proctor wasn't as freakishly strange as he appeared. He was just more on the eccentric side than most. "I had a call from Rick's oncologist earlier. She wants to operate today, take the kidney. His gram stain came back negative this morning. She wants in before he picks up anymore infections with his low immunity. There's no doubt by the CT that the tumour is still there. In fact, it's spread. The whole kidney's affected."
Proctor was listening closely, despite still working on the patient's abdomen. They were trauma surgeons, this sort of conversation was more than common for them. Often their best consulting or diagnosing occurred over an open body cavity. "I'm sorry, Chris. I know none of this is easy for you to deal with. Harder to swallow also knowing that he could be on the road to recovery now if he had the kidney removed from the get-go. Of course you can take the time. I'll ask Serena to follow up on your cases. How is the condition of the other kidney?"
"Thanks," Chris murmured, his own eyes trained on the op site. He was quiet for a moment, wishing he had said Eva. He had no idea how he was going to handle sitting over there during Rick's surgery waiting for any news alone. He would have given anything to have Serena with him, and he found it on the tip of his tongue right now to just blurt it all out and beg Proctor to let Serena come with him. He held his composure though and carefully dabbed the gauze around the wound to clean up the blood. "Nothing visible is showing. There doesn't seem to be any other tumours. On the face of it, it's isolated to the one..."
Proctor nodded with a small sigh. "Who is his attending oncologist? The hospital has an excellent oncology unit. Any doctor worth their weight over there will keep him regularly monitored for any changes, especially post-operatively. Any sign and they'll catch it, Chris. I would assume they are already cross-matching for any possible donors, should they reach worst case scenario?"
Chris frowned. "Bella Watson. I hear she's really good, but I've not had a lot to do with her. I haven't had much of a chance to speak to her, either. I would assume they are, but I've not heard anything. Rick, he... I think he requested of her that I be his med proxy if he can't..." He gestured with his tweezers, finding it hard to say the words at first. "If he doesn't have the capacity himself. He thinks he's going to get worse, and wants me to make the choices for him if he does. I just don't know if he specifically asked that of her, of if she asked him what he wanted if that happened. I know it doesn't seem like much of a difference, but with Rick, it's huge. If he just answered her standard questions, then it's nothing. But if he went out of his way to ask her about it... well, it means he wants my help. Maybe means he won't piss off after all..."
"Either way, Chris, it sounds like you need to hear him tell you whether he wants your help or not," Proctor replied, watching the younger man and hearing a shaking, uncertain in the tone of his voice. "You should go over when we finish here, make sure everything is okay pre-operatively. Talk to him, perhaps? You know the old saying that you can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink. You fear there is a chance here that Rick may be going through the motions, as he did before, only to leave again and ignore all medical advice. Just don't forget that when some faces their life in the balance, their usual behaviour and reactions alter significantly. They start seeing the error of their ways, start wishing to change things while they still have the chance."
Chris just gave his head a small shake, keeping his eyes lowered so Proctor couldn't look into them and see the emotions there. "I just want to know what it feels like to have a normal brother," he said quietly and finally closed up the wound and waited for the nurse to hand him a dressing tray. "One that actually gives a damn about the fact he screws me over... puts me in debt... hurts me. You want a metaphor, doc? Leopards, spots... ain't changing."
"Leopards aren't humans, Chris," Proctor returned with a pointed glance. "And spots are simply outward appearance. Perhaps for the first time in his life, Rick might be seeing what he has wasted. He is still your brother, and you still love him. Too much to believe in silly things like too little, too late at a time like this. At the very least, tonight, he will be post-operative following a nephrectomy. He will be unable to go anywhere for the meantime until it is confirmed his other kidney is functioning enough to support the whole body. Perhaps it would be a good time to lay some cards on the table... make up for lost time."
Chris looked up and searched Proctor's eyes, despite both wearing the glasses. "You know, um... maybe we could get a beer sometime?" he finally suggested quietly and cleared his throat. "That's what friends do, right?"
Proctor gave Chris a faint, amused smirk even if it couldn't be seen behind the mask and nodded. Somewhere in the last five minutes, a page had just been turned. "That they do, Dr C."
Word Count | 1,493
[Follows THIS]
It had been a long procedure, and Chris was relieved they were now on the home straight of it. Proctor had worked on the liver, discovering more damage than the CT showed once they had the man opened up, while Chris had consistently worked on removing the bullet and repairing the damage to the bowel. He had to take a small section of it in the process, the damage too much to repair without a bleed out. It had been a close range gunshot wound. The guy was never going to escape without some sort of mess to his insides. Chris wet his lips behind the surgical mask at a pause in his suturing and glanced up at Proctor over the operating table. There were other staff in the OR, mostly nurses, but Chris didn't really care if they overheard. By now, it was no secret that Rick was in the oncology ward of the main hospital. Kathy and gang had been working overtime with the gossip in the few days Chris and Serena had off. The sleeping pill had Chris sleeping for fourteen hours straight, when he woke to groggily use the bathroom before stumbling back to bed and sleeping another eight hours. He felt a lot better when he had woken up, his appetite back, and refreshed sensation after he took a shower and had a shave. He still found himself quite lethargic for the remainder of their days off, though, and in between brief visits to Rick at the hospital, Chris and Serena had taken it easy, watching old movies with Chris sleeping regularly over the time.
At least he had felt somewhat normal that morning for work, mostly back in form. At least, until he had received a brief phone call from Dr Bella Watson when he had been literally elbows-deep in bloody vomit from his patient. At hearing who the caller was, Chris still wanted to talk to her, and only succeeded in doing so with Tuck holding the phone to his ear. It had been a very brief conversation, to say the least. "I, uh... was wondering if you would mind be knocking off around four today," he asked the elusive English physician across from him, realising he was bracing himself for Proctor to immediately say no. "I know it's short notice," he added.
Proctor stilled his tweezers around the suture needle and waited for the nurse to suction a little more of the blood from the incision sight. He met Chris' gaze at the question, eyebrows raising behind his surgical glasses. "Is everything okay, Chris?" he asked and went back to intently closing over the incision site. Contrary to popular belief, he had been extensively worried about Chris of late. It definitely was no secret the older Deleo brother was receiving oncological treatment in the hospital, but Proctor knew there were even deeper things at play for Chris. He just wasn't privy to what, and wouldn't be until the Chief Resident opened a little more.
"No," Chris admitted honestly, figuring now was as good a time as any to be honest with Proctor. The guy had been honest with Chris about his concern when Chris was in the sinkhole... admitting that he classified Chris as a friend. Chris just had to find his feet with that, and realise Proctor wasn't as freakishly strange as he appeared. He was just more on the eccentric side than most. "I had a call from Rick's oncologist earlier. She wants to operate today, take the kidney. His gram stain came back negative this morning. She wants in before he picks up anymore infections with his low immunity. There's no doubt by the CT that the tumour is still there. In fact, it's spread. The whole kidney's affected."
Proctor was listening closely, despite still working on the patient's abdomen. They were trauma surgeons, this sort of conversation was more than common for them. Often their best consulting or diagnosing occurred over an open body cavity. "I'm sorry, Chris. I know none of this is easy for you to deal with. Harder to swallow also knowing that he could be on the road to recovery now if he had the kidney removed from the get-go. Of course you can take the time. I'll ask Serena to follow up on your cases. How is the condition of the other kidney?"
"Thanks," Chris murmured, his own eyes trained on the op site. He was quiet for a moment, wishing he had said Eva. He had no idea how he was going to handle sitting over there during Rick's surgery waiting for any news alone. He would have given anything to have Serena with him, and he found it on the tip of his tongue right now to just blurt it all out and beg Proctor to let Serena come with him. He held his composure though and carefully dabbed the gauze around the wound to clean up the blood. "Nothing visible is showing. There doesn't seem to be any other tumours. On the face of it, it's isolated to the one..."
Proctor nodded with a small sigh. "Who is his attending oncologist? The hospital has an excellent oncology unit. Any doctor worth their weight over there will keep him regularly monitored for any changes, especially post-operatively. Any sign and they'll catch it, Chris. I would assume they are already cross-matching for any possible donors, should they reach worst case scenario?"
Chris frowned. "Bella Watson. I hear she's really good, but I've not had a lot to do with her. I haven't had much of a chance to speak to her, either. I would assume they are, but I've not heard anything. Rick, he... I think he requested of her that I be his med proxy if he can't..." He gestured with his tweezers, finding it hard to say the words at first. "If he doesn't have the capacity himself. He thinks he's going to get worse, and wants me to make the choices for him if he does. I just don't know if he specifically asked that of her, of if she asked him what he wanted if that happened. I know it doesn't seem like much of a difference, but with Rick, it's huge. If he just answered her standard questions, then it's nothing. But if he went out of his way to ask her about it... well, it means he wants my help. Maybe means he won't piss off after all..."
"Either way, Chris, it sounds like you need to hear him tell you whether he wants your help or not," Proctor replied, watching the younger man and hearing a shaking, uncertain in the tone of his voice. "You should go over when we finish here, make sure everything is okay pre-operatively. Talk to him, perhaps? You know the old saying that you can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink. You fear there is a chance here that Rick may be going through the motions, as he did before, only to leave again and ignore all medical advice. Just don't forget that when some faces their life in the balance, their usual behaviour and reactions alter significantly. They start seeing the error of their ways, start wishing to change things while they still have the chance."
Chris just gave his head a small shake, keeping his eyes lowered so Proctor couldn't look into them and see the emotions there. "I just want to know what it feels like to have a normal brother," he said quietly and finally closed up the wound and waited for the nurse to hand him a dressing tray. "One that actually gives a damn about the fact he screws me over... puts me in debt... hurts me. You want a metaphor, doc? Leopards, spots... ain't changing."
"Leopards aren't humans, Chris," Proctor returned with a pointed glance. "And spots are simply outward appearance. Perhaps for the first time in his life, Rick might be seeing what he has wasted. He is still your brother, and you still love him. Too much to believe in silly things like too little, too late at a time like this. At the very least, tonight, he will be post-operative following a nephrectomy. He will be unable to go anywhere for the meantime until it is confirmed his other kidney is functioning enough to support the whole body. Perhaps it would be a good time to lay some cards on the table... make up for lost time."
Chris looked up and searched Proctor's eyes, despite both wearing the glasses. "You know, um... maybe we could get a beer sometime?" he finally suggested quietly and cleared his throat. "That's what friends do, right?"
Proctor gave Chris a faint, amused smirk even if it couldn't be seen behind the mask and nodded. Somewhere in the last five minutes, a page had just been turned. "That they do, Dr C."
Word Count | 1,493