#I'm not my system is fucked and I need to go to the doctor
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Oh yeah I wrote the words again btw :)
Frank finally decides to open up about their feelings - to his best friend.
#innisart#welcome home#welcome home fanfic#frank frankly#julie joyful#maybe someday I'll feel good about this#right now I just feel anxious and sad#it's probably just PMS LMFOA I'm fine I'm fine#I'm not my system is fucked and I need to go to the doctor#but it's chill y'know#I'm a resilient wee fecker#I'm like a cockroach#which would mean Frank would like me :)#yay :)
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RAHHH!! I'M GONNA DRAW TONIGHT. IT'S GOTTA HAPPEN
#Shima speaks#I was going to yesterday but long story short I had a doctor's appointment and they gave me THREE SHOTS#So my immune system took a HIT lmao I was sooo fucking wiped out yesterday. Took like a 4 hour nap#ANYWAY. I'm speaking it into existence. I have not yet done art in my New Space Downstairs#And I need to. ASAP
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ok my OTHER reflection:
on the one hand its really frustrating to see the posts about docs and healthcare in general on here be so narrow-minded. bad experiences with certain providers have lead to a huge spread of misinformation and mistrust with the whole system. which can and HAS lead to people avoiding 'evil' doctors for perfectly treatable illnesses and dying from them (the vaccine bullshit, anyone?)
but on the other hand. it is TERRIFYING how some of these docs practice medicine. at times i think 'are you just burned out and don't give a shit or are you straight up just stupid?' and i work in critical care. where quite literally every case is life or death. even in the academic sector where there is supposedly a standard of excellence, some doctors i would not let touch my loved ones with a ten foot pole.
and that sucks. i know this is the no nuance piss on the poor webbed site but 'the medical system and people that work for it are fallible and aspects of it are morally questionable at best/unethical at worst' AND 'the field of medicine exists to help people first and foremost and mistrusting/avoiding it can be detrimental in the long run' can and DO co-exist
#also. folks i hate to tell you but 'doctors get big pharma kickbacks and they can cure you but just choose not to to get more money'#is a very tempting conspiracy theory. but it is SO UNTRUE.#hey listen. if someone is telling you they can 'cure' your disease magically if you just take x vitamin THEY ARE LYING#even miraculous cures like bone marrow transplants for autoimmune disease and CAR-T therapy#have such severe side-effects that they quite literally kill you#i can't tell you how many times i've taken care of people who#had their cancer 'cured' but the treatment ruined their kidneys/heart/lungs#or fucked their immune system so bad that a common bacteria could completely take them out#anyone selling you miracles is L Y I N G#i understand that a lot of this anger is around disability and chronic illness and psych and i get that. intimately.#its 100% accurate to say that a patient who researched independently about ehlers-danlos or POTS knows more about it than i do.#and its hard to see the profession as 'people who sincerely ARE trying to help' when you actively work with people who fucking suck#and you think like 'you went to school. you went through all this training. you (presumably) passed boards'#we should have at least around the same level of knowledge#but that is often not the case#still#making large scale statements about an entire profession (especially when its supposed to be a civic service) is just... not good#my two cents rec for this is:#if you think you have something rare or unusual try to find a doc that specialized in this i.e. go to an academic center.#trainees are less set in their ways and can think outside the box PLUS if there are new/innovative treatments they would have them#if you need pretty much ANY surgery. private is the way to go#you want surgeons with high volume and experience#surgical techniques do not change on the dime. most havent changed in 50+ years. a lot of other medicine DOES#(this of course does not apply to specialized surgeries like whipple or PTE or schwannoma resection - go to academics for that)#if its REALLY rare whether medical or surgical your GP will not know what to do with you#academic centers are referral centers. they are more likely to have the right tools to diagnose/treat#where was i going with this?#oh yeah i had an odd interaction with an ED doc admitting to me last night that was NOT practicing within current standard of care#and was just so casual and assured i started to doubt MYself. like. am I the crazy one?!?!#like i'm young i dont know everything SURE
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#Ruining the semi normal sleep schedule I'd managed 2 keep going for like a week cus of paranoia 😎#This is ofcthe one time I'm like Actually fucking sleepy#I shocked myself earlier n am in a spiral about the whole “even a semi small shock can fuck up ur heart hours or days later” thing#Which idk if thats unreasonable paranoia or like normal n smart#The internet is 50/50 on it lol#Mom says im being paranoid. Called a like phone nurse about it who said it'd be smart 2 get it checked just 2 be safe#But it's late and doesn't feel serious enough for the er?#Also the er is hell. U just sit there for Hours waiting n then get looked at for 5 minutes told n2 wait even more n then told 2 just go hom#So I am just kinda... existing.. until stuff opens n I can hopefully see a doctor about it or something:)#And cus I was already feeling kinda sick Before the shock I can't be sure if I actually have any symptoms of something worrying#AAAAND my anxiety about the whole thing is making me over analyze every heartbeat or muscle twitch#N tricking my brain into believing shit that's not real#I wanna nap so bad but my brain won't let meee#Ok ramble is done... I just needed 2 get this out of my system somewhere...#Can u believe I use 2 think I didn't have anxiety?? I was all Oh yeah I'm Super chill 😎 while sirens played in my head 24/7#rambles
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🙃
#So glad I have a baseline of mental stability#because the medical system is trying to fuck me up#i've been unable to eat normally for six months#i keep losing weight#i'm in pain every day#two different medications have failed already and I had to go to the hospital because I couldn't stand the pain anymore#but still this issue isn't urgent enough to be treated#my GP is amazing but she's running out of ideas and ways to make my health insurance pay for my treatment#Like#we know what's happening#all I need is a specialist to try a new course of medication#but no I get sent home from the hospital with no meds or plan#i get stonewalled by nurses at the doctor's office i have an urgent referral for#i don't fucking know what to do#vent#cn weight loss#cn medical stuff#cw weight loss#delete later maybe
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anyway. nothing is wrong with me because I made it all up :) of course :)
#vents !!?#what's the point in feeling anything if no one is gonna care or take it seriously#so I'm cured!#right??#that's the logic they're using#“if we stop giving him attention for his symptoms they'll go away”#they said 6 years ago#or like#15#but guess what!#symptoms are still here!#and worse now!#MAYBE#ignoring me every time I needed even the most BASIC of things is how I developed needy attention seeking egomaniac disorder#you fucking frauds#/nbh#I'm yelling at the psych system and also my doctor here
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There are literally 3 euros left on my bank account
#i should get tax refund and pay for my summer job this week i guess i'll survive#still stressful as hell though#i don't want to complain too much cause i know i'm privileged living in a country with a broad social security system#but it's also chaotic and bloated as fuck with a million different benefits and no one understanding how it works#my previous social security benefit ended in may so i had to apply for a new different one#but i needed a medical certificate for it and only had doctor's appointment last week#and getting the decision on that application takes time so meanwhile i applied for the last resort income support#but my application for that was rejected for unknown reasons and i complained about the decision but it's still in progress#so now i'm just waiting here with no money from anywhere whatsoever 🤷#bro what they expect me to do#go begging from the church? go shoplifting?#if this post is incoherent to you i feel the same#keanu.txt
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i have acquired a mystical and powerful ointment (hydrocortisone cream) from the village herbalist (rite aid) to assist with the curse set upon my bloodline from many generations ago (eczema)
#feel free to reblog#ironically this is the one thing i know the least about and it's the one i've known about for sure for the longest#never seen a doctor for it (everything online says you probably should) because my parents never took me#they told me that's what it was because that's what my dad had and it looked close enough#they also said i'd grow out of it like my dad did (just as he was growing back into it hmmmmm)#so i'm not like shocked that this is cropped up again i'm mostly like. annoyed? and sad.#i'm annoyed because like - they treated it so casually it was a non issue#get some anti-itch cream moisturize etc#and be quiet about it until it goes away#so it came back every now and then and i stopped telling them i was getting flare ups i'd just get into dad's cortizone and put some on#until it went away#there was never like a plan or a regimine in place for how to deal with it#dad's whole routine was preventative (lots and lots of baby oil) with the steroid cream you pick up at the pharmacy if there was a flare#and i didn't even know when he'd get a flare because it never got brought up - so i didn't know to look for patterns or anything#and now it's hitting me and has been for probably longer than i realized and i'm just like#*how do i take care of this???* *why is it not going away???*#and like yes i absolutely should also still see a doctor about it just to like. Fucking get shit in my records#jesus christ the realization that eczema isn't even probably in my medical records fucking hell#IT'S IMPORTANT BECAUSE IT'S AN IMMUNE RESPONSE AND DOCTORS PROBABLY NEED TO KNOW I'VE GOT A FUCKY IMMUNE SYSTEM IF THAT'S A THING#LIKE CHRIST IN HEAVEN MOM AND DAD A TRIP TO THE DOCTOR IS LIKE NORMAL FOR SMALL CHILDREN#FOR FUCKS SAKE WHY DID I NEVER SEE A DOCTOR AS A CHILD FUCKING MARY MOTHER OF GOD MA WHAT THE FUCK
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"was there a reason you didn't cancel this" honestly I thought I had so no there wasn't a reason but also if clients are going to have Your personal number and reach out to You about canceling (when they Should be reaching out via email per our cancelation policy) then You should be canceling the appt anyway imo. all the other trainers cancel their appointments AND add their appointments to the system 🤪
#noah.txt#also I do realize my annoyance is unwarranted but also I'm sosososo tired of this job#she's thinking about closing down for a month for renos and she's not going to pay anyone for that month#and she's not sure if she's going to set it up where we can file unemployment or if she's going to#make us be freelancers under the company name#also she booked an appt but didn't put it in the system and didnt Tell Me and someone put in a booking request for that day/time#and it's frustrating b/c the whole reason she wanted clients to be able to book via the online portal is to#make my job easier/more automated but it's not easier when I'm having to email 5 clients because she cant be fucked to learn the system#then I'm talking to a coworker about how my doctor said I need to get my stress down#and she has the AUDACITY to ask me if she's contributing to the stress#like... yeah you're like the primary stressor in my life because I got hired for an hourly position 2 years ago#yet you treat me like I'm a salary employee who is supposed to be on call#and yeah it's frustrating and stressful to feel like I can never fully relax b/c you might need something#and it's even more frustrating when the things she needs she'll call me about. I won't answer b/c I'm busy#then I'll call her back and she'll be like ''oh I looked for it after I got voicemail''#okay so you don't THINK to do a little investigating before calling me during my time off?#very funny to me that I've been in a therapy session talking about her and she will call me (I do not answer)#my job was not and is not to be a personal assistant yet that is the position I've been forced into#and quite frankly I do not get paid enough to deal with being a personal assistant to#an immature people pleasing 34 year old woman who lacks basic empathy and doesn't give a shit about her employees#like I wanted to like her! I want to like her! she's gay and Jewish! but she also stinks of white rich kid privilege#also she's having a baby with her wife and this is a baby she actively does not want and a baby they're having to fix their marriage#which is a very tough thing for me to watch from the sidelines#she also is always picking apart peoples appearances and shes also told me she would probably leave her wife if she grew her hair out#anyway there's a lot more on a personal and professional level but my break is over
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one thing that I never see anyone talk about is the fact that House never makes his patients educate him on their conditions. like, I know it's a "he's smarter than everyone" thing but also as a doctor he should be the one looking into that & educating the patient, not the other way around. why the hell should I spend my entire appointment convincing my doctor that my symptoms & conditions are real before they bother considering a single blood test. the only people that seem to be doctors also happen to be the only people who fucking hate being a doctor
#she literally told me that ADHD is fake & called me talentless because i don't schedule a two hour window to draw every day#& those things are the cause of my inability to sleep. because i'm relaxing so much i no longer need sleep at all. a-fucking-pparently#& when i started crying because i was so frustrated at not being listened to#she fucking asked me if i have faith in the medical system. like no bitch i've spent nearly 30 years being denied medical care!!! the fuck?#i saw people the other day saying that ''real disabled people'' would never give up on getting diagnosed & medicated#& like honestly that's bullshit because i am straight up giving up right now!!!!!#like i can't fucking do this anymore. i can't keep begging doctors to listen to me & then just be sent to get the same fucking blood tests#& then they put off doing anything for so long they go back around to ''well maybe it's changed since then. more blood tests''#i'm done i really can't fucking do this anymore i can't handle this same routine over & over & over & over & over & over & over & over agai#just say to my face you think i'm faking & to go away don't keep pretending to care
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alright nearly 12 hours later and my stomach is almost back to the normal background discomfort/pain, we're getting there, normalcy is almost back, gonna go lie down tho-
#my mom is circling back to “do you take painkillers when it's this bad?” and I have to sit there like#the bastard concoction of *why* my stomach is agony cannot be solved by just an advil#like it'd help a little but would not solve it and I would still be a miserable sludge trying to curl up into a ball on the floor#I also wish I had an easy fix for this!! I'd love to figure out a job situation!!! the world is on fucking fire and I get it!!!#but like idfk what you want from me after 4 doctors all shrugged at my symptoms and went#“idk man we tested for all this other stuff and nothing was conclusive so... let's go with IBS?? change your life or whatever”#like being shrugged off 4 times was already Not Great but I also don't have actual treatment options#beyond trying to be in better shape and eating healthier which only mitigate some symptoms#god I'm so fucking lucky I was a tiny thin little thing in high school so they didn't all slap me with “lose some weight”#getting asked every time I went in if I was pregnant as a 14 year old was already agony enough#“what are your plans for the future going to be like this?” I didn't think I'd live through high school like this I'mma be real#she's trying to help and it's out of concern for me I get it yadda yadda#but I have a bunch of people all the time trying to be helpful like “hey I heard about X have you looked into it?”#and I never have a good answer because I don't fucking remember what the doctors all tested me for#/I went through 4 of them in the span of 2 years/#so like thanks but not as helpful as you'd think and I'm tired-#god sorry just also remembered my mom asking my fiance why I wasn't willing to try meds for my condition#and I sat there going WHAT MEDS? ARE THERE MEDS?? SHOW ME THEM (also why are you asking /him/ that??)#the doctors gave me shit for fuck besides a pain management boot camp that only really helped me mask better#and a lack of faith in the system from an early age- I need to stop and go lay down lmao
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David Tennant interview at the British LGBT Awards, June 2024 (x)
Int: You being an ally to the community isn't something new. You've been doing it, but recently you've obviously really stepped up for trans and non-binary people in a time that's so, so needed. What made you do that?
David: I don't know that I feel like I've done anything that I wouldn't just sort of be normally doing. I mean, it's for me it's just common sense that there's there should be any suggestion that people aren't allowed to live the life they want to live and and to be who they want to be with and to express themselves wholeheartedly. I mean, as long as you aren't hurting anybody else, everybody else just needs to fucking butt out. I don't really understand why...
Int: ...it's controversial.
David: Yeah, there is and the thing... the thing, if there's something that's particularly sobering and depressing, it's that certain debates are being weaponized by certain elements of the political class, often for no... it seems it's not ideological so much as opportunistic. And I just think that's pretty disgusting, really.
Int: I couldn't agree more. What message would you like to send out to trans youth?
David: Please don't feel like you're not loved and that you're not accepted and that you're not... you know, most people in the world are good and kind and just want you to be able to be who you are. Most people in the world don't really care. I mean... you know what I mean?
Int: We're all narcissistic.
David: Exactly. Everyone's so self obsessed that really, the sort of noise that comes from a certain area of the press and of the political class is... it's a minority. It really is. And please don't let that make you feel diminished or dissuaded or discouraged, because, you know, you just... you have to be allowed to be yourself, and you are, and you are yourself and you must thrive and flourish, and we're all here for it.
Int: Amazing. I think, yeah, it's so important .I think sometimes it feels like there's so many people, but it is a minority. It's such a minority.
David: It's a tiny bunch of little whinging fuckers that are on the wrong side of history and they'll all go away soon.
Int: Like what happened with gay people 20 years ago.
David: When I was a kid, when I was a kid, exactly. You know, I was at school when Clause 28 came in and it all felt like being gay was something to be terrified of. And gay men in particular were demonised as paedophiles and now that just feels historic and ludicrous and, I mean, I don't see all those... all those battles aren't won, but we're in a very, very different place. And I feel like.I feel like history is on a progressive trajectory and it might get knocked sideways now and again by people for all sorts of reasons, which are often quite selfish and quite, as I say, not coming from a place of any sort of genuine belief system, but other than a place of opportunism. And that's something that we... I hope that in 20 years time, we're talking about, you know, these culture wars as something of the past.
Int: I believe we will. I'm a huge Doctor Who fan, so.
David: Oh, good, me too!
Int: You are my Doctor.
David: Oh, thank you very much.
Int: But recently, obviously, you came back for the 60th anniversary and you got to work with Yasmin Finney.
David: Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Int: What was it like working with her?
David: Oh, she's brilliant. She's fantastic. Yeah. And she's in the show again now, she's back in it, so that's fantastic to see. She's lovely, talented, cool as a cucumber, articulate, brilliant. I learned a lot from her as an actor and also as someone who, you know, who's become a sort of de facto activist just because of who she is and where she is, and she becomes a sort of symbol of hope, and she's wonderful.
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so i'm joining the stem cell registry and donating blood regularly now, because i like, should. and it's been a good process and they're very nice. but as i was signing up for things, it had the box for sex at birth. Which is kind of an insane question. not "what hormones does your body primarily run on". but just... sex at birth. something that is not relevant for blood donation, and also extremely misleading??
they check your red blood cell count when you show up. if I told them my sex at birth was female they'd be fucking horrified by my count. testosterone does shit to the blood! It is so much more relevant to know that my body runs on testosterone! i keep seeing medical fields doing this.
i think that they assume it's nicer, somehow. they don't just ask sex anymore, they just go haha please tell us what you were called as a baby :) we're doctors so we need to know, it's important :)
except it's not. at all. it is more ethical for me to lie to the blood donation centre so that they don't see my blood and flag it, when it is perfectly good blood for people with more testosterone.
i have to go to a throat doctor next month. they specifically asked for my sex at birth. there was not an option to tell them what they should actually expect from my voice and body. when it asked me to list medications, it physically wouldn't allow me to list testosterone, and it flagged it.
it's nuts, because all these places have actually been really welcoming and cool about me being trans, but the actual system is horrific, it's just forcing me to out myself by having to reach out after to correct it. because answering honestly is medical misinformation.
anyway you can just fucking lie i guess
#mine#my legal gender is male why the fuck does it demand another option#it's so stupid. i'm glad things are better now but i bet like ten years ago i wouldn't have had to lie lol#because they wouldn't have known to ask#intersex people also. i'm so sorry
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I was gonna comment this under a youtube short abt a specific stim (tapping your ears) that reminded me of something from my childhood but I realized I was on youtube and decided I won't risk being emotionally open on that hellhole so I'm posting it here instead
Anyways the video reminded me of when i was in elementary school back when i still lived in Puerto Rico. i got so overwhelmed in one of my classes because all the other kids were being deafeningly loud and i couldn't keep up with the notes (had written two whole whiteboards worth of notes and the teacher was erasing one of the boards to write more)(notes were all fully handwritten, no guided notes packets or anything)(was always made to write ALL OF IT, no shorthands) and then the teacher started using a goddamn WHISTLE to get the kids' attention and shut them up (didn't work, just made more noise which made me more overwhelmed). i burst into tears and started tapping my ears almost unconsciously to try and mitigate the noise since just covering them wasn't enough somehow.
I still do it sometimes when there's too much noise but like. In a less noticeable way i guess? Just kinda rub my ear which gets a similar effect to tapping it. Bc i know it's weird and i was already the weird kid by then so like i can't be More Weird. Y'know. So most of the time i just endure loud noise and try not to get super pissed off or cry instead.
Anyways i'm not saying i'm for real neurodivergent but i am saying that my parents should've done something about my very obvious issues way earlier on instead of just chalking it up to me being "shy" or "sensitive" or "a perfectionist" or whatever the fuck. Bc this incident among other things that happened before and after it were literally big flashing signs that i was Not Normal. But noooo instead they had to leave current me with emotional regulation issues constantly wondering what the fuck is wrong with me
#ramblings#the vibes are not good rn#i can't sleep and i want to tear something apart with my nails and teeth like a wild animal#neg#i will say part of it was the pr education system being absolute shit#had multiple teachers who were not at all qualified for the job and a bunch of bullshit assignments and stuff#but like. this was the worst manifestation of the noise sensitivity i'd always shown#i was ALWAYS overwhelmed by loud music and crowded places with lots of noise#and like. my mom took me to a doctor for it after this particular incident#but didn't look deeper into like anything else. and still really hasn't tbh#it was chalked up to a hearing issue and nothing else#god i'm. so fucking tired#i need to go to bed
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Heylo my maggotsies... I'm sorry to do this but I have a thing that I really, really need to do (thank you Ash for helping me realise that) but I'm terrified to. so well. I'm going to make one of the posts (Neil reblogged me a couple of days ago so I feel pretty safe making one now since he only lurks by once in two weeks so this is as good a time as it gets to make a post and not expect many notes, yes I'm an overthinker and I'm actually scared of this getting notes).
Sigh. Here goes.
...I'm scared of even typing it.
Nope okay I can do this let's go.
If this post gets 1k notes, I'll look up jobs in design and film making that don't need a college degree.
2k notes, I'll sign up for an Alliance Francaise course so I can have another language on my CV, and I'll find a course that teaches me how to use design software.
5k, I'll look up distance learning alternatives, because just talking about physical college yesterday made me spend the whole morning and afternoon today in and out of nightmares screaming. Fuck.
10k, I'll tell my mum that I can't do the offline college. She's been talking to me about it, but I've been dodging because I'm not well-off and I really need to be earning and idk how to do that without college and I feel so guilty.
15k, I'll officially back out from the college (does that count as dropping out, if it hasn't begun? maybe half. i am a college and a half dropout, my 11th grade self would hate me and my 10th grade self would refuse to believe it).
I don't know what I'll do then. I don't know how to live as trans here in India, I don't know how to earn enough to be able to help my family, I don't know what I'm good at and I'm so fucking terrified. But. I spoke to @random-doctor-on-the-internet last night (I love you Ash you're such a fucking amazing human) and they made me realise that well maybe landing in a hospital with steroids to relieve an allergy attack because of exam stress isn't normal and so.
Well. Here I am. I know I can't do it, but I'm scared to risk everything, it's just not something people do here, dropping out. But also (TW s**cide statistics mentioned below the cut)... And so I've just. Got to do it, got to save myself and say no to college (cue say no to school, kids joke). Somehow be brave enough. And yeah.
To quote a financial express article: "In an alarming situation, a total of 7,62,648 suicides were reported in India between 2018 to 2022, Of this student suicides account for 7.6% at 59,239". Maybe if more people did say fuck you to the system here, that wouldn't be the case. That number could have been 59,240 (aside from everyone who wasn't counted and hushed up), that could have been me, and I don't want to put myself in that situation again. You know? Yeah.
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Residuals Pt.2
Ongoing Series
Synopsis: You and Robby spent seven long years together until the day it ended. You’ve done your best to create space; to become invisible. You can’t miss what you don’t see. Unfortunately, the universe (Gloria and the Board of Directors) seemed to have missed the memo.
Pairing: Michael ‘Robby’ Robinavitch x Reader
Genre: Established previous relationship, slight age gap (by about 15 years give or take), a little bit of tension mixed in with a little bit of hate yearning, cause she’s a saucy angsty fic ok
Warnings: Language, sexual themes (it's the patient)
A/N: So, this chapter is much beefier than the last. To anyone new here and my writing - I'm a long-winded bitch, so I apologize in advance 🤣. This chapter also uses slight dialogue from the show. There is a scene in this I took from my time working in the ER during the 2020/2021 pandemic. 100% this actually happened. It was traumatizing lol. Thank you, guys, so much for taking such an interest in this fic! For showing so much love and loving on this show along with me (and Dr. Robby lol) because it's fantastic and deserves all the fics and all the love! I truly am grateful and hope that you enjoy this chapter. Much Love, Jenn 🖤
Shout out to @viridian-dagger for looking this over for me. Thank you for putting up with me lol. I Love you. Also, thanks to @strangergraphics for the cute little divider.
Word count: 7524
Previous I Next
7:00 AM - 8:00 AM
You’d been staring at the screen for what accumulated into an eternity in the ED. The longer you kept staring, kept from just choosing one of the damn patients on the board, the bigger the risk grew that Dana would notice.
Or worse - Robby.
If Dana took notice of you willfully choosing to stare off into premeditated space, you were willing to bet your firstborn she’d reprimand you first and tell Robby second. She'd shoo you away from her desk with a fervor usually saved for psych patients, as if you had cooties. With your current calculations on how this morning started, either option would be unpleasant.
Whether any of you liked it or not, you were here, and that meant one glaringly - neon sign bright - reality. Robby was going to be your fucking boss for the next twenty-four hours. And not in a kinky way. At least, not the way either of you used to enjoy.
From the moment the briefing ended, the disdain at your presence made it painfully clear that you were not welcome. Everyone dispersed in true manic speed to meet the batshit energy that constantly swirled inside the Pitt. It was the place that kept on giving even when you politely asked to be put in time out - because damn you needed just a moment to get your shit together. But the ER was in its own solar system, and it required everyone who walked inside to be ready for whatever was thrown their way. You didn’t get a say - weren’t allowed to say no or ‘hard pass’, on cases that came flowing in and what dictated an emergency. You were either ready or you weren’t. You either made it or you cracked.
There wasn’t any damn structure here. Just spontaneity with a dash of madness but, in that madness, greatness could be born. Adamson always said you never knew what kind of doctor you were - the depths of your compassion - until it was tested in the blood, sweat, and fire of the Pitt.
You’d been tried, tested, and by the end knew exactly what kind of doctor you were. What kind of doctor you strived to be - like Adamson. Just like Robby. But it’d been two very long years since you’d been able to call this madhouse home. The ease of set-timed patients with a patient history readily at your fingertips had spoiled you. Every question that needed to be asked without actually asking was answered and waiting just for you to see. Pre-existing conditions or possible new ones with known side effects were readily available for you to view.
So, yeah, you were panicky - terrified - about heading out onto the floor with a thousand unknowns. It wasn’t helping that Perlah and Princess hadn’t greeted you with more than a sneer and an eye roll that’d impress your fifteen-year-old niece. Robby and his flock of med students bounded off to make rounds that lasted less than three minutes before rapids began flowing through the ambulance bay. With any luck, you’d have one solid minute to look over the board, dissect what room held the most viable case to close, and head there.
Just jump right back in and pray you didn’t fall flat on your face.
The numbing sensation that resonated earlier in your chest returned with a vengeance. It didn’t start gradually, but collided against your nerves; exploding like a colony of ants that bit and tore leaving behind flashes of panic. You tried to lead the sensation out through your hands with a subtle shake. If you allowed the anxiety to fester itself it would no doubt become housed to you the entire shift.
You were better than this. You interned in the Pitt. You chose to stay after you’d obtained a full-time position. Two years away from this damn madhouse shouldn’t have affected you this strongly but that wasn’t accounting for outside stimuli…
But looking up at the large TV monitor, new names being added to the FirstNet system with brightly colored labels, it made you want to scream. It made you feel hopeless.
Fuck. You were better than this.
The background erupted with shouts from an incoming trauma. Two severe traumas from the sound of rushing feet and Robby’s directions. You didn’t hear most of what the paramedics relayed to Robby and the med students. You did, however, catch the word degloving as they rolled into trauma rooms one and two. You did not envy the med students.
You gave your hands one last shake as your eyes combed over the patient list one more time. You’d found a possible ingestion of a foreign object by a child in triage room eleven. Simple. Easy. You were already going over possible orders to give. An x-ray was to get a better picture if the obstruction was heading downward or if an endoscopy would be necessary for removal. What signs to look for as you assessed the child while making sure they were still alert and swallowing normally. You thought of how to introduce yourself when a familiar voice thrust you back into the present.
“Forget how to read a patient board, Fullerton?”
Dana’s words were pure ice. The years of friendship and playful jokes appeared to be burned to a pile of ash. You didn’t need to look at her to know she wasn’t regarding you with a friendlier expression than Perlah had moments before.
“No,” you sighed, your eyes finally dragged from the screen to her. “Just taking in the options.”
“This isn’t a buffet, in case you forgot. I know it runs easier and less dirty for you guys upstairs, but down here time is a precious commodity.”
“I am well aware of how simple consultations can turn serious, Dana.”
“Oh, you do,” she gasped in mock surprise. She’d removed her glasses from her nose and held them against her chest. “I guess that means you should stop wasting time and do your job. Don’t want your Press Ganey scores droppin’.”
“Not that I don’t love the pep talk, Dana. I’m just curious, are you going to be riding my ass this hard the whole shift?”
The question was out of your mouth before you could stop it. The ears of every available RN and technician who sat around Dana’s nursing station no doubt heard. The verbal back and forth so early in the morning was beginning to give you whiplash.
“I don’t know, sunshine is there a reason you think I shouldn’t? You know,” she began, her body involuntarily inching closer. Her shoulder leaned in closer so her barbed words could sink deep enough to wound. “What a surprise to learn that this whole time - the entire fucking two years you were gone - you’d simply been up-fucking-stairs.”
It was in those last few words you saw it. It was so quick you might’ve missed it if you weren’t dialed in. No matter what Dana, or anyone else, said to you today, it would never compare to the carnage you’d left behind with your silence. The pain of seeing the hurt you’d left behind, sharp and unforgiving, was like a lancet; slicing through the tough hide you’d prepared for the day.
“Dana -”
Shit, you did not need your voice to crack. You did not need to crack.
Unluckily for you, she wasn’t in the mood to hear from you. A hand rushed up to brush off whatever weak attempt at placating her she knew you would try and send her way.
“I don’t want to hear it, kid. Months I was worried sick about you. Just to find out you chose to forget we even existed down here. A literal ghost walking back into our lives right when we’ve just about healed. You’re a real asshole, Fullerton.”
She lifted the glasses back to rest on the bridge of her nose. The coolness of her stare reminded you - if her final words didn’t - that you weren’t a welcome sight in the Pitt. Your presence threw off what little harmony they coveted, the family dynamics, and you knew she would fight to preserve it - to protect Robby - and everyone else in the process.
Your tongue pressed against the side of your cheek. A weak balm to cool the warring wave of emotions that rapidly replaced the anxiety that moments ago threatened to shatter you into embarrassing little pieces. Now you only felt like shattering for an entirely different reason.
Dana tore her gaze away from you and answered an incoming phone call. Whatever emotions she contended with were conveniently pushed down because she had a job to do. So did you. You found yourself wanting to say to hell with today; with Gloria and all her standards. You hadn’t agreed to be fucking public enemy number one.
It didn’t matter how anyone else saw you. What mattered right now was the glaringly obvious pain you’d caused to someone who was the Pitt’s raining surrogate mother. Who’d checked in on you, and brought extra food from home because she miraculously knew you’d forgotten yours. A friend that invited you to her family’s Christmas Eve dinner your first year as an intern because you didn’t have family to celebrate with. The woman who’d held you when you’d lost your first patient and scolded you about smoking cigarettes even though she smoked herself.
You wanted to be stubborn. To wait for her to get off that damn phone so you could try and explain, but really what could you say? It wasn’t just Robby you left. You’d chosen to abandon ship with all of them aboard a sinking ship. They never even knew they needed life jackets in the first place.
The cool stare of the nursing staff made your back itch. You needed to get away and get back to why you were here. What you were damn good at doing. Clearing your throat, you made your way around the nurses' station. The stride of your steps was suspiciously close to turning into a jog. Although, you’d never admit that out loud. The sooner you could get to the patient's room the more normal this day would be.
“Holy shit, Fullerton? Is that you?”
The chipper tone and the laughter behind it had warning bells going off in your head in a matter of minutes. You only knew one surgeon who took glee in other people’s discomfort.
Yolanda Garcia, the resident pain in the ass at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center, beamed at you like the cat who was dangerously close to eating a new canary. You had a not-so-sneaking suspicion you were the canary in this scenario.
“I don’t know, Garcia does it look like me? It’s too early for you to be hallucinating.”
“Does Robby know you’re here?”
Oh, she had to be eating this up. The sheer mayhem she knew this would cause - psychologically speaking - must have been making her toes curl. She was beaming, practically euphoric from the very thought. Her feet were no doubt burning to run and tell him as if he didn’t already know.
You tried to sidestep around her obnoxiously grinning form only for her to shadow your movement.
“It’s great to see you haven’t lost that dream of auditioning for the Wicked Witch of the East, Yolanda.”
“Robby is going to flip when he hears about this.”
“Great. Why don’t you run along now and tell him,” you quipped while patting her arm. “I have patients to attend to.”
“I bet you do.”
This time when you moved to sidestep her, Garcia didn’t make any move to follow. No doubt too busy riding her broom to be the harbinger of doom all over again for one specific unfortunate soul.
“Are you aware that Fullerton is here? Just walking around the Pitt attending to patients?”
It shouldn’t have come as a shock that once Garcia saw you, she’d use you in any capacity to rile him up. Hell, Robby was willing to bet the minute she’d noticed you - whether walking or inside a patient room - Garcia would’ve encroached on your space. The two of you historically had one of the worst feuds Adamson said he’d seen between interns in years. It didn’t surprise him that even after you’d both secured your jobs within the hospital it never ended.
What did surprise him was how breezily she asked her questions. She hadn’t even taken five steps into trauma one before she fired each one off in his direction. His hands crossed his body to grip his shoulders. He needed something to steady himself and each finger that dug into the meat of his biceps was all he needed to help keep him centered. Keep his head in this room with this patient and not somewhere else.
“Yes, Dr. Garcia I am well aware she is here.”
He watched the exchange between Collins and Garcia and nodded his approval at Collin’s when she stood her ground and called for a popliteal block instead of morphine.
“Where’s the next guy?”
“Next door. He’s a bit worse.”
This was something he could do. Something his mind could piece together and work around. Robby knew medicine. Saving lives wasn’t the hardest part of his day - it was having to try and make sense of his own that held that prize.
Garcia was in the middle of giving one last instruction of what she wanted before she fully followed him into the room. Dr. Mohan and a med student, Santos, were in the process of intubating Mr. Wallace.
“How do you feel about that?”
Robby had been so laser-focused watching them place the tube that he hadn’t heard Dr. Garcia the first time. So, of course, she asked again.
“Feel about what?”
He was under the impression they were focused on the patient. He should've known better when it came to Garcia. She was relentless until she got what she wanted.
“Come on, Robby, let’s not be coy. You expect me to believe you don’t have big feelings about her being down here? You guys were engaged - ”
A split second. That was all it took for him to become glaringly aware of the room. Of all the people in it, they no longer were singularly focused on the patient but split down the middle. While Garcia effortlessly watched over the med students and their progress, she equally watched him for any sign of a reaction.
He needed to put an end to her question before she overshared information that first-day interns had no business knowing. Robby found himself itching under the watchful gazes of staff. Princess in particular he caught glancing up from where she was handing over instruments.
“I don’t see how that information pertains to anything dealing with our patients, Dr. Garcia. How about we stay focused on the task at hand.”
Robby saw the smirk on her face. A dog with a bone. That’s what Garcia was going to be like all fucking day because she was just eating this up.
He put himself back in motion - being the watchful attendee as Dr. Mohan successfully placed the intubation tube.
“I’m in!”
“Good! Well done.”
Robby could do this. He could be a doctor. He could be the attendee overseeing and teaching others. He could do this. He could do this. He listened closely as Dr. King checked for the patient’s medical history - there was none. He listened to Yolanda give off medication to administer before shipping Mr. Wallace up to CT for a scan. Once Robby was sure everything was moving smoothly, he moved around the foot of the patient’s bed to stand next to Princess.
“Do me a favor,” he asked gently, “Swap out with Jessie for me, would you?”
Their degloving patient screamed in a language no one knew but - Robby was hoping - Princess would know. He was following behind her when a familiar - and unwelcome voice - called out behind him.
“Dr. Robinavitch. Do you have a moment?”
No. He would never have another fucking moment for Gloria. She effectively used up every last moment he had left to spare when she dragged you down here. Robby was barely holding on to what small pieces of sanity he had left. He didn’t need any more shit to deal with before 7:30 am.
“Ugh, I’m a little busy right now, Gloria. One sec.”
He meant no fucking seconds but he still had to play nice, right. Robby was never good at playing politics. Adamson told him countless times it was the unseen added responsibility of an attending. The constant hounding from the administration staff and CEOs demanding doctors and nurses carried more than just keeping people alive.
Gloria followed him through the rooms and stood at the side. Her presence was a constant reminder to him that she wasn’t going to leave empty-handed.
Robby did all he could to monitor the med students’ and his residents as they made their assessments. When Princess notified him she couldn’t figure out the language, Robby took it as a small win to allow him to grab language services, giving him a few seconds to breathe.
It was short-lived.
By the time the officer walked in, Gloria had her fill of being on the back burner. She wouldn’t be ignored any longer and they both knew Robby was no longer needed. His residents’ had both patients stabilized and were finishing up preparing them to begin proper treatments. It left him the odd man out. It left him having to take a walk with Gloria.
The walking and talking was about metrics - Press Ganey scores. The endless bitching about low numbers that couldn’t be fixed without proper staffing was affecting patient satisfaction. It was easy for Gloria to pin the poor numbers on Robby, Abbot, and the entire Pitt staff. Easier to claim they just weren’t already busting their ass hard enough instead of admitting they were short-staffed in every department. That their metrics and data issues of force-fed shitty scores could be solved simply by hiring more nurses - paying better wages.
But everything Robby ever said - tried to tell Gloria until his vision reddened - fell on uncaring ears.
After everything he tried to tell her again all she latched onto was when he used the word “Pitt” instead of the official term of an emergency department. Derogatory. That was what she called it. Incompatible with institutional images.
Robby wanted to scream.
“You know what's incompatible with the institution's image? Me speaking to the media about people who code in our waiting rooms and people who get shitty care in our hallways waiting for an ICU bed for days.”
“I’ve heard about doctors who tried that and found themselves out of work.”
The thinly veiled threat wasn’t lost on him. The next words he would’ve liked to have said to Gloria in response, he was forced to cover up under a mirthless laugh.
“I know today is difficult for you - “
Fuuuck no. No. He was not doing this, especially not with Gloria. No matter what was said after this, Robby could feel the cusp of a storm riding at the frayed edges of his psyche. Knew it was there with each passing millisecond as he waited for it to implode.
“Everyday is difficult down here,” he bit in.
“Boarding is a nationwide problem. Your predecessor, Adamson, sure as hell knew that. Or wasn’t that something he taught you?”
And there it fucking was. His eyes snapped shut as he tried to rain in the tidal wave that roared in his ears. The cautionary warnings of a catastrophe brewing beneath the surface only grew louder.
It wasn’t even fucking 7:30 yet.
“Fuuuuck. Wow. Really?”
“Yes. Really.”
Gloria would never back down. She was as strong and determined as anyone Robby ever met. Under different circumstances, he would’ve found her impressive, but this wasn’t any other circumstance than her riding his ass like she usually did.
Robby shook his head again to try and clear the black dots from his vision. It was just a brief shake. His eyes skimmed across each full bed that held a waiting patient. The universe must have perfect timing with fucking with him today. In that brief look, Robby watched you appear from behind a patient curtain. A reassuring smile on your face as you spoke one final time to the family of three inside before you closed it shut behind you.
You weren’t aware he’d seen you - that he was watching. It was a split second but live wires only needed one second to find a conduit to create sparks that burned down everything around it. He shook his head to try and clear it. His gaze landing back on Gloria with a new bone to pick.
“Don’t you think you should’ve cleared it with me before you brought Dr. Fullerton down?”
Before his sentence finished, Robby could tell by Gloria’s response she found his question idiotic.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I was unaware the board needed to clear every decision with you first, Dr. Robby. Also, weren’t you just complaining about the lack of staffing?”
“I was saying to hire more nurses - not to bring down a doctor from a whole other floor.”
“A doctor who has been with this hospital for close to a decade, trained by Adamson, and you, might I add. Look, I get it. You two have…history. Which is one of the main reasons we frown upon fraternization.”
“Please, spare me the HR talk, Gloria.”
“You need to put your big boy pants on, Dr. Robby. Fullerton is staying down here whether you like it or not. Don’t like it, can’t manage the crisis or who the hospital chooses to staff down in the ER, you can either step up or step aside.”
Gloria didn’t give him a chance to respond. She gave him one last condescending look, one Robby hoped he mirrored back to her, before turning on her heels and walking away. His eyes followed her for a few seconds, debating if he wanted to chase after her. Just hand over his badge and call it quits because the feeling of defeat weighed so damn heavy on his shoulders that he thought there might be a chance he’d never get back up.
Instead, he turned to look at the nursing station where Dana was casually walking. He knew she heard the entire conversation. He just didn’t want to have to repeat what just occurred or discuss it in the slightest.
He stuck his hands in the pockets of his hoodie and was ready to return into the fray because he could handle that. He could help patients. He could be the doctor they needed. Before he even moved a step Dana motioned for him to come towards the desk.
The little devil on his shoulder warned him that he might end up regretting it.
“You know, Robby, I’ve been thinking - “
“Why do I feel like this isn’t going to go well,” he sighed.
Dana simply waved him off before she continued.
“You aren’t being very realistic on the whole, ‘stay in the triage only’ demand. You want her to just waste her skills by only helping out in the front?”
“She won’t be wasting them,” he huffed.
His hands reached out to grip the edge of the counter. He didn’t want to have this conversation. He did not want to have this conver -
“I think you’re just hoping that’s where she stays so you don’t have to see her.”
“One can dream, Dana.”
Robby did not trust - nor like - the coy look he received in response to his words.
“Who am I to get in the way of a man’s dream?” She replied, her eyes examining him in a way he hated. No one could hide anything from Dana. “Although, if I know you -“
“Dana -“ he warned.
“ - I would be willing to bet -“
“Dana, I’m being serious -“
“ - that you want to see her.”
“Now why would I want that?”
“You’ve been scanning the halls every few seconds since we’ve been talking, Robby. I don’t think you’re admiring the wonderful view of bodily fluids and stale piss scent.”
“Alright I’ve had enough of your idea of what I’m assuming is a half-assed pep talk.”
“Just…be honest with yourself, Robby. You both got a lot of unresolved tension with a dash of a shit ton of issues. Probably be better to hash it out when you can, and in private, instead of exploding in front of interns or patients.”
Robby wanted to question if she was willing to do the same. Would Dana be able to have you come to the desk for patient transfer information, for updates, calls; and for everything and not be as affected as he was? Robby remembered he wasn’t the only one who’d lost you - felt lost without you.
Robby wasn’t ready to confront you. Hell, he wasn’t ready to be alone with you and try to talk like civil adults. He wasn’t there yet and maybe he wouldn’t be. What he could be was an attending physician. He was great at that.
He could do that. Everything else would just have to wait.
Upon further examination of the little penny swallower in 7 North, he showed no signs of abnormal drooling or trouble swallowing. Palpitating the stomach didn’t have any response of abdominal pain or tenderness. With a few more questions about possible fever or trouble breathing, you felt confident in informing the family an x-ray would be needed just to verify the penny was making safe travels down to be…expelled. Easier and less invasive to exit that way.
You told them once you were notified the x-ray results were ready, you’d come to speak to them about the next steps. Hopefully, it meant they could be discharged in an hour or less. Which meant you had an hour to kill between waiting for the results. After reading the chief complaint on the board for 12 South, you thought it was a solid contender for a quickie.
As it turned out, it was the worst idea you’d had that morning.
When you pulled back the curtain and began the examination, what you’d found waiting for you under the dressing gown wasn’t on your bingo card. Actually, it should never be on anyone’s bingo card. Not ever.
You’d tried to come up with any other option than needing to consult Robby. He didn’t want to see you throughout the day - ever. It was a sentiment you equally shared with him and one you happily would’ve avoided except…you need the advice.
You need to present the case and get some solid, solid advice and, quite possibly, traumatize him in the process. You couldn’t be the only one subjected to seeing what you saw at freaking 7:37 in the morning. The only issue: you had no fucking clue where he was.
In true Pitt fashion, doctors were bouncing from one room to another. Already you’d heard McKay call earlier about needing a crash cart. When you’d run out to assist, Mateo, a newer RN you’d yet to meet let you know they had it - if you were needed they’d call.
You also knew that after 7:30, rigs would be bringing in elderly patients from the nursing homes. Another thing that would keep Robby busy and make it near impossible for you to try and consult with him. It was already going to be a battle just to keep him from turning and bolting in the other direction when he saw you.
This limbo of time left you a few minutes to run to the break room and take a blissful sip of your more than likely room-temperature coffee. It didn’t matter: caffeine was caffeine and you would take it any way you could get it. You just had to make one last pit stop before you disappeared.
You circled the nurses' station and found the exact nurse you were looking for sitting at one of the station’s computers. You had to hand it to Perlah, whether she saw you coming or sensed your presence like a disturbance in the force, she refused to glance up from the screen. Her eyes scan over something repeatedly as her fingers pound into the keyboard.
“Perlah, have you seen Robby?”
She still wasn’t looking up.
“Nope,” she replied, popping her P heavily.
“If you do see him, can you let him know I’m looking for him?”
“Nope.”
Your lips tucked into a grimace as your gaze peered over the edge of the computer. Perlah’s eyes didn’t lift once.
“Okay. Great talk.”
“Mhmm.”
Yeah, today was off to a really fantastic start.
There wasn’t any point hanging around the nurses' station for longer than was embarrassingly needed. You took the loss in stride, and by stride, it meant with a heavy sigh of defeat that had your feet dragging that defeatist attitude into the breakroom. Where you found one of Robby’s newest med students sitting at the break room’s table.
If you felt defeated, you weren’t sure what the proper word for her would be. She looked like a reprimanded child instead of a doctor. Her small frame was tucked in tight, like a fetal position with her forehead almost completely collapsing onto the table.
You weren’t able to catch any of their names earlier because you all but missed morning rounds. All you knew was she was one of Robby’s four interns and by far the youngest from the looks of it.
You eyed her warily as you moved towards the side counter. You’d stashed your coffee on top of the microwave and, once in hand, immediately brought it to your lips for a long pull.
Yep. It tasted as good as you thought it would.
The girl brightened once she realized you’d entered. Her nerves had her eyes darting down and back up again seemingly unable, or just not comfortable enough, to keep them trained on you.
“You’re one of Robby’s new med students today, right?” A timid smile rose and fell on her lips. You watched while she tried to make out if you were friend or foe. In an attempt to prove the former, you offered up a warm smile as you introduced yourself.
“Victoria Javadi - MS3.”
“It’s a pleasure, Dr. Javadi. May I ask what you’re doing in the breakroom instead of out in the Pitt?”
Your question was meant to be that: a simple question. No ulterior motives were waiting in the wings especially not the lecture Adamson gave you your first year when he caught you napping in here. But your simple question extinguished what little bit of life had lit up in the young girls’ eyes.
“I - I - my foot hit a gurney during Dr. Collin’s and Dr. Langdon’s demonstration on the degloving patient. It was nothing.”
It wasn’t nothing. Whatever happened was everything to her and not in the best of ways.
“That’s okay. It happens,” you shrugged. “I stuck myself with a needle once.”
“Really?” She asked, her voice timid and eyes unbelieving.
“Oh, yeah. My second year of residency too. The patient became combative while I was trying to administer the medication. The needle got jammed in my clavicle.”
You couldn’t believe it - it earned you a laugh. A nervous one, but it was still a laugh. You watched her as she brightened and dimmed; a constant flux of warring thoughts that you weren’t sure which side was winning.
“Whatever happens out there, don't let it get you down. We never stop learning as human beings or as doctors. Everyone out there has made a mistake in some capacity. Hell,” you snorted as you pushed off from the kitchenette’s counter, “Michael got hit with a bedpan once.”
“Michael?”
God, you’d gotten too familiar. Your memory of that day makes you have a Freudian slip into the days you called him more by his first name instead of his nickname.
“Oh, uhm, Dr. Robby. I’m going to head out but if you want, once you’re done here, you can come find me. I’d be more than happy to teach you.”
“Thank you, but I’m sure Dr. Robby is just having me take a break. It’ll be fine. I’ll be fine.”
You were tempted to tell her to come find you anyway, just in case. In case it didn’t go how she thought when she did finally check back in with Robby. Whether she verbally agreed to the offer or not, you hoped she knew it was still there. This was a teaching hospital after all.
Dana and Robby were walking back to the nurses' station. He’d just gotten one major surprise of finding out Javadi was Eileen Shamsi’s daughter and while he was all for surprises, that was one he'd like to have been prepared for.
Just like Dana had warned him, via Perlah, that you were looking for him he saw you standing there waiting. For him. He’d had all of five seconds to come to terms with the fact you were both about to have your first direct conversation in over two years. After two long years of no contact, it was about work.
He should’ve been happy it was just about work and not all the other bullshit that’d accumulated over those two years. He should’ve been fucking thrilled, but he wasn’t. Robby had so many questions - so many things he wanted to say. There was so much to say - to ask - and instead here he was preparing to discuss something easy.
Robby and Dana split up at the middle entrance. She returned to man her station in the center of this circus, while he came up to stand beside you leaning against the nurses' station. Your fingers tapped on the counter while your chin rested in your other hand.
“Something’s got you deep in thought.”
Robby knew the answer - knew it because outside of himself, outside of Jake, you were the only other person he knew inside out. Your fidgeting fingers, a tick he knew well, would tap out a Morse Code of a problem you were trying to solve. The faster the tapping, the closer Robby knew you were coming closer to asking for his opinion. You’d done this all the years you’d worked together and at home when you couldn’t decide if oregano was an okay substitution for Italian seasoning.
“Cock rings.”
“Excuse me?”
Robby could feel his eyebrows skyrocketing towards the ceiling. He rocked forward and back on his feet while the fists he’d buried inside his hoodie pushed against the fabric. His body subconsciously leaned towards you because, well hell, he couldn’t believe those two words just left your mouth.
He hated that his eyes caught the slight uptick in the corner of your mouth. The same corner where all your sarcastic ass smirks originated before they blackmailed their way to full-blown smiles. What Robby hated the most was how that small bit of familiarity took a sledgehammer to the carefully constructed walls he’d built. Fucking hated how his lips betrayed him by beginning to match the playfulness in your eyes. Loathed entirely how his heart did somersaults like he was a teenager again and the girl he’d crushed on just looked at him like he hung the stars.
“Cock rings.” You said it like it wasn’t the lewdest thing he’d heard all day. Simple. Matter-of-fact. “What do you know about them?”
This was fucking absurd, was all he could think.
“Uhm, why exactly is this your question?”
“Jesus, Robby, I’m not asking if you’ve used them. My patient in 12 South - was brought in by his mother for supposed swelling and pain in the inguinal region. Upon examination, found he attached sixteen key rings as makeshift cock rings along the length of his penis.”
His brain was still in the process of trying to comprehend the scenario you’d just fed him. That was his excuse for his eloquent reply, “You’re fucking kidding me.”
“I sincerely, with my full chest, wish I was. He’s traumatized. Mom’s traumatized. Shit, I’m traumatized, but I can’t figure out a safe alternative to removing the rings without causing damage.”
“What are you two discussing?”
Dana seemed to arrive at the best and worst possible moment because Robby didn’t know how to answer that question. Apparently, you had no problem informing her it was -
“Cock rings.”
Robby wondered if Dana’s stunned-to-silence expression was how he’d looked earlier.
“Well, shit, Fullerton this is the wrong department for that - “
“It’s my patient in 12 South. He decided to MacGyver himself some cock rings out of key rings.”
“What about MacGyver?”
Langdon slid a tablet back on the charging station - gaze laser focused between you and him. One of Langdon’s brows rose in silent question that Robby could only answer with a shrug.
“I’m sorry but who is MacGyver?” Dr. King asked, eyes shifting with expectation between the four of them for whoever would give up the answer.
“MacGyver’s an old 80’s TV show where the detective guy gets himself out of sticky situations by using random stuff.”
“Random stuff?”
“Anything eye level,” you quipped.
“Okay, anyways, Fullerton,” Langdon butted in, “What’s with your MacGyver patient.”
“Cock rings.”
Robby swore if he heard the words “cock” and “ring” come out of your mouth one more time he was going to fucking combust.
“Cock…rings?”
From how green Mel looked after stuttering out those words, Robby was sure he wasn’t alone in his earlier sentiment.
“They say it’s meant to enhance stimulation by restricting blood flow to the penis. I’m pretty sure men buy them because it enlarges the penis making it thicker with the possibility they’ll last longer in bed. You can currently pick one up on Amazon.”
“Jesus,” Dana mumbled.
“Really?”
Mel took a giant step closer to the edge of the desk. Her earlier discomfort was removed by the idea of garnering new information. The warning signs were blaring loudly when you whipped your phone from your scrub's back pocket.
“Oh, yeah and they come in different styles of materials - “
“Oookay.” Robby heard more than enough. If he was being honest with himself, fuck he hated how it bothered him hearing you talk so casually about sex toys. Toys he knew, for a fact, the two of you never used because he never needed the extra help. He knew every inch of your skin; how you liked to be handled and touched. Could recall with crystal clarity the plains of your body, mapped out to memory by his hands, by his mouth, and the way your breath would hitch just before a moan slid past your lips. If any asshole was touching you now - he wasn’t fucking doing it right. Clearing his throat - and his fucking head because Jesus H. Christ - he rested his forearms on the counter as he leaned closer to you. “Can we please move past showing my med students unnecessary sex toys?”
Robby was leaned down enough that the next time you looked at him it was direct. Direct and ready to challenge him every step of the way. A spark of some hidden remark you were burying back under your tongue brightened his favorite color of iris.
“Squeamish, Michael?”
And there it was again. That fucking smirk.
The use of his name falling so casually from your lips was a gut punch that stole the air from his lungs. He couldn’t stop the pinch of his eyes that narrowed in on you.
Did you just lean closer?
“Not particularly, no. I am, however, making sure we aren’t having an unnecessary conversation that doesn’t pertain to the care and wellbeing of our patients.”
“Sex education is fundamental education. Dr. King asked a question and I was teaching. This form of teaching does pertain to my specific patient who used a similar style of material usually made for this particular toy and, because of lack of education, thought key rings would be a supplementary alternative rather than a safer one. In showing Dr. King the types of materials safely used, and how obtainable and discrete it is to get one, she could educate someone else if she finds herself in a similar situation. Also, it’s 2025, Dr. Robby - we don’t kink shame here. We educate on safe sex practices.”
“Here, here!”
Robby shot a look in Dana’s direction and caught the wisp of a smile before she turned away.
“What a great speech just to cover up your kinks, Fullerton.”
Robby couldn’t tell if Langdon was trying to bait you on purpose just to rile you up or to get you to slip up. He got neither in return.
“You found me out, Frank.”
“Alright, enough.” He needed to cut in before you both went back and forth in an endless loop of who could irritate who the most. It was just a little over half an hour into the shift. “Dr. Fullerton, is there anything else?”
“Ugh, yeah. You still haven’t given me your opinion.”
“Because you never asked a specific question,” he reminded you.
He watched you consider his words; your lips rising into that small pucker. It was your tell that always let him know the debating was over and you were ready to listen to what he had to say.
A part of him hated the familiarity that rested between the two of you. Fuck, you hadn’t changed. Not in any way Robby was able to notice. It was barbaric; and painfully unfair that every mannerism and every glance housed years’ worth of memories. The most painful part of being reminded was the remembrance of loss.
Loving you had been as easy as breathing for him. Until it wasn’t.
The communication the two of you held so easily for years was torn apart during the pandemic. There was too much happening and not enough support mentally when the PTSD started. When the sleeplessness and hopeless feeling began to press a weight down on his chest - his existential crisis bloomed red and bright. Robby didn’t know how to stop the bleeding.
And then you…you’d…
“You’re right, I didn’t.” Your words cut through the fog in his mind, bringing him roaring back to the surface. “If you have a few moments, I would like to get your opinion on my patient and what you think will be best for this particular…situation.”
Robby pushed his arms off the counter. An arm swept out in the direction of the hallway south to indicate you could lead.
“Alright. Let’s see what you got.”
You clapped your hands together before you took a step forward. You hadn’t expected him to agree and the giddiness at winning a battle - or not having to fight one? - intoxicated him. A ghost of a smile tilting the edges of his lips unwillingly up.
The two of you’d made it about five feet before Myrna rolled herself from beside her latest haunt.
“Hey Sugar Tits, where are you skipping off to?”
“Myrna, I’ve expressly told you, my name is Dr. Robby.”
“I’m not talking to you, Fruitcake.”
“It’s me,” you whisper to him before returning your attention to Myrna. Never stopping. Always moving. “I can’t talk now, Myrna. I have a patient.”
“You always say you have a patient,” came her gruff reply.
It was the first hint her chipper demeanor was about to expire.
“Yes, because this is the ER; where I work.”
“Fuck you.”
“Nice talking to you again too, Myrna.”
The walk to 12 South wasn’t quick enough. Every step and moment he spent walking beside you sent a flood of memories rushing to the surface. Robby didn’t know how to do this. He didn’t know how to pretend you hadn’t shared a life - that he hadn’t spent time loving you in every way he could.
“Fruitcake, huh?”
Your words cut through his thoughts and, at first, he’d been grateful for the interruption. Grateful until Robby noticed the teasing gleam in your eyes. How he could spot the mischief that darkened your eyes and didn’t have enough time to prepare.
“Don’t want to talk about it,” he grumbled.
He didn’t need to look to know you were side-eyeing him.
“It could be worse.”
“Oh, no I doubt that.”
“She could call you something less delicious.”
His hand was mid-reach to pull back the curtain. Your sentence pulled him short and forced him to look down at you like you’d just grown a second head.
“You think fruitcake is delicious? Nobody thinks fruitcake is delicious.”
“True, but it’s arguably better to be called a shitty holiday dessert than, say, something like cocksucker,” you shrugged, moving yourself around him to push behind the curtain.
He was supposed to be angry with you - and he was. He fucking was but…it was easy, almost too fucking easy, to forget the last few months that led up to what dissolved your relationship. It was easy to forget you’d both broken each other in different ways. Robby should’ve hated you, but he couldn’t, and, because of that, he was grateful you couldn’t hear the chuckle he tried to shake away before he followed in after you.
____________
As always thank you so much for your support and for reading! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! Much Love,
#Residuals#ongoing series#the pitt#the pitt hbo#the pitt fanfiction#michael robinavitch#dr michael robinavitch#dr robby#dr robinavitch#dr robby x reader#dr michael robinavitch x reader#the pitt x reader#michael robinavitch x reader#dr robby x oc#michael robinavitch x oc#dr robby x you#michael robinavitch x you#noah wyle#saucy angsty babies
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