"Alright, Mr. Priestly," the doctor said, holding up a cast saw. "You ready to get this thing off you?"
"I cannot possibly express how much," Priestly said. "Do you have any idea how much these things itch?The doctor laughed. "Actually, I do. You'd be amazed how many pens and rulers and things end up under casts. Especially full leg ones." He
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"Sounds like ferrets," the doctor said. "Do you want to feel the blade on your palm? Sometimes that helps kids with the nervousness."
"I'm good," Priestly said. "We've both actually done this before, so. Not, like, often," he rushed to assure the now thoroughly bemused looking doctor. "Just, you know, at least once. I used to play football."
He was babbling. Just a little.
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"Of course she does," Priestly said. "Now, come on, the lady just offered me ice cream, let's get this show on the road."
The doctor shook his head, used to a fair amount of impatience from patients at the end of the healing process and started up the saw, bending down to position it by the edge of the cast and start cutting. It took a little bit of extra time to get through the little rainbow down near his ankle, which Tia had painted on, and Priestly grimaced. "Mental note: no more painting the casts."
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"Stevesie has no lack of places to hide things," Priestly pointed out. "I'm guessing he'll be more disappointed by how much harder it is for him to free climb my bare leg."
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"Your x-rays look really good, so can start working it gently as soon as you get home," the doctor said as he finished with the saw and picked up the cast spreader and bandage scissors. "I'm going to take a look at things once I get this off just to be sure, but I don't think you'll even need a brace on this." He looked at Priestly's leg for a moment, his hand paused on the scissors. "Which is kind of weird," he muttered, then shook the thought away and finished cutting. "Alright, it's show time." He pulled the top of the cast off. Several pennies and a few hair ties fell out.
"Well," Priestly said. "At least there aren't any pens. Or the remote."
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This was good. It was nicely distracting him from how freaking weird his leg looked. Seriously. It was like someone had replaced his leg with someone else's. An evil leg.
Yeeee.
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"Stevesie so owes me hair ties," Dinah pouted, leaning into him. She checked with the doctor. "So, can we get him a nifty sword-cane for the duration?"
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"So. . . . I'm good?" Priestly asked. The doctor patted his shin.
"You're good. Extremely lucky, and rather fast healing, and due, I gather, for a nice sundae."
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The doctor smirked. "So I hear," he said, holding a sheet of paper out. "Here's some instructions for cleaning it up when you get home. The skin'll be really sensitive for a couple days, so don't scrub at it. Gentle is the name of the game."
Priestly saluted and took the paper. "Anything else I should know?"
"I imagine plenty of people have told you not to jump in front of cars," the doctor said. "So I'll just go with pointing out that the Metronome's got an open mic night coming up again in a week or so." He smiled. "My husband'll be disappointed if he doesn't get to see you perform, this time."
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"I'll tell him you said so," the doctor said. "Now get. Before the press figures out you got the cast off and try for follow up interviews."
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