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neckpainmagement · 5 years

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20 Q & A Manipulation Under Anesthesia

<h1>What is Manipulation Under Anesthesia?</h1> Manipulation under anesthesia (MUA) consists of a series of mobilization, stretching, and traction procedures performed while the patient receives anesthesia (usually general anesthesia or moderate sedation). Manipulation is intended to break up fibrous and scar tissue to relieve pain and improve range of motion. Anesthesia or sedation is used to reduce pain, spasm, and reflex muscle guarding that may interfere with the delivery of therapies and to allow the therapist to break up joint and soft tissue adhesions with less force than would be required to overcome patient resistance or apprehension. MUA is generally performed with an anesthesiologist in attendance. MUA is an accepted treatment for isolated joint conditions such as arthrofibrosis of the knee and adhesive capsulitis (frozen Shoulder). It is also used to treat reduce fractures of vertebrae and long bones of the extremities and dislocations. <h2>Who can perform Manipulation Under Anesthesia?</h2> “The medical team performing spinal MUA typically includes: <a href=“https://phoenixpaintreatment.com/manipulation-under-anesthesia/”>Lead chiropractor</a> or other doctor who performs the manipulation. Co-attending doctor who is a first assistant and also certified in manipulation under anesthesia. Anesthesiologist in charge of administering the anesthesia and monitoring the patient. <h3>What is knee/shoulder manipulation under anesthesia?</h3> Knee – Manipulation of the knee under anesthesia is medically necessary when performed to treat significant arthrofibrosis of the knee, following total knee arthroplasty, knee surgery, or fracture in persons having less than 90 degree range of motion, six or more weeks status post-surgery or traumatic event after physical therapy has failed to improve range of motion at or equal to 90 degrees. <h4>What is shoulder manipulation under anesthesia?</h4> Shoulder – Manipulation of the shoulder under anesthesia is medically necessary when performed to treat adhesive capsulitis of the shoulder, when there is failure of conservative medical management, including medications with or without articular injections, home exercise programs and physical therapy has failed to improve range of motion after six or more weeks. Who can perform manipulation under anesthesia? “The medical team performing spinal MUA typically includes: Lead chiropractor or other doctor who performs the manipulation. Co-attending doctor who is a first assistant and also certified in manipulation under anesthesia. Anesthesiologist in charge of administering the anesthesia and monitoring the patient. How long does it take to bend your knee after surgery? The Key is to Make Progress Even if only for a few minutes, the exercises must be done every single day the first two months after surgery, or until adequate range of motion has been restored. We aim to have a minimum of 90 degrees of bending by six weeks and ideally more. How do you break up scar tissue after knee surgery? Warmth and swelling around the knee. Mild cases of arthrofibrosis may be resolved with intensive physical therapy alone. Other treatments include manipulation under anesthesia, when a physician manipulates the knee in a controlled fashion to break up the scar tissue. Surgery may also be an option for some patients. What are scar tissues? Scar tissue is Fibrous tissue that forms when normal tissue is destroyed by disease, injury, or surgery. For example, scar tissue forms when a wound heals after a cut, sore, burn, or other skin condition, or when an incision (cut) is made into the skin during surgery. What happens after knee manipulation under anesthesia? Regaining motion after knee surgery isn’t passive, so patients who put more into their physical therapy can usually nip stiffness in the bud. … If stiffness is impacting your ability to recover at the pace your care team expects, a manipulation under anesthesia (MUA) may be recommended. What is manipulation under anesthesia of the shoulder? A manipulation under anesthesia (MUA) is most commonly indicated in patients with simple frozen shoulder. This procedure is performed with the patient sedated under anesthesia. Your chiropractor moves the shoulder through a range of motion which causes the capsule and scar tissue to stretch or tear. Will cortisone injection help frozen shoulder? The treatment of frozen shoulder requires a combination of non-steroidal anti-inflammatory medications, steroid injections, and physical therapy. Cortisone injections: Cortisone injections are given directly into, or near to the shoulder joint. It reduces the inflammation within the frozen shoulder joint. However, cortisone does not decrease fibrous scar tissue What is manipulation surgery? Manipulation under anesthesia (MUA) or fibrosis release procedures is a multidisciplinary, chronic pain-related manual therapy modality which is used for the purpose of improving articular and soft tissue movement. Where does frozen shoulder hurt? The main symptoms of a frozen shoulder are pain and stiffness that make it difficult or impossible to move it. If you have frozen shoulder, you’ll likely feel a dull or achy pain in one shoulder. You might also feel the pain in the shoulder muscles that wrap around the top of your arm. Why is frozen shoulder more painful at night? The most common cause of night pain in your shoulder is due to a process we call rotator cuff tendinosis and shoulder bursitis. While there is no exact science as to why your shoulder pain is worse at night, some factors may be sleeping on your side, direct pressure on your shoulder, and/or your mattress. How long does it take to recover from scar tissue removal? Well, everyone is different and heals at different rates. In general, it takes about six to eight weeks to fully remodel injured tissue in the body. Just remember to take it slow and provide a nice, long duration low-load stress to your scar tissue. Note that is why we recommend Manipulation Under Anesthesia because there is very little recovery time. What happens while under anesthesia? General anesthesia works by interrupting nerve signals in your brain and body. It prevents your brain from processing pain and from remembering what happened during your surgery. … Before your surgery, you’ll get anesthesia through an IV line that goes into a vein in your arm or hand. Is manipulation under anesthesia considered surgery? <a href=“https://phoenixpaintreatment.com/who-else-wants-to-know-about-manipulation-under-anesthesia-in-phoenix-arizona/”>Manipulation under anesthesia</a> (MUA) consists of a series of mobilization, stretching, and traction procedures performed while the patient receives anesthesia (usually general anesthesia or moderate sedation). Manipulation is intended to break up fibrous and scar tissue to relieve pain and improve range of motion. What is closed manipulation? During closed manipulation, the doctor moves the arm at the shoulder joint. This is done to break up adhesions and loosen the stiff joint. The goal of the procedure is to improve range-of-motion by breaking up scar tissue. Manipulation Under Anesthesia for spinal pain Manipulation Under Anesthesia for Spinal Pain. Spinal manipulation under anesthesia (MUA) is a non-invasive procedure that may be recommended to relieve chronic neck and back pain when other treatments have not worked. Where can I get Manipulation Under Anesthesia in Arizona? You can call Dr. John Quackenbush DC MUAC, Phoenix Pain Treatment, 9140 W. Thomas Rd, b106 Phoenix Arizona 85037. Phone 602-449-9430 or <a href=“https://phoenixpaintreatment.com/pain-management/frozen-shoulder/”>CLICK HERE</a> The post <a rel=“nofollow” href=“https://phoenixpaintreatment.com/top-20-q-a-manipulation-under-anesthesia/”>Top 20 Q & A Manipulation Under Anesthesia</a> appeared first on <a rel=“nofollow” href=“https://phoenixpaintreatment.com”>Phoenix Chiropractor</a>. from https://phoenixpaintreatment.com/top-20-q-a-manipulation-under-anesthesia/

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From https://phoenixpainmanagement0.blogspot.com/2019/09/phoenixpaintreatmentcom-top-20-q.html

from https://phoenixpainmanagement.wordpress.com/2019/09/05/phoenixpaintreatment-com-top-20-q-a-manipulation-under-anesthesia/ from https://neckpainmanagement0.blogspot.com/2019/09/phoenixpaintreatmentcom-top-20-q.html

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rnarvelboi · 6 years

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rnarvelboi’s mobile fic rec mp

updated: 07/24/18 this masterpost WILL NOT work on laptops/pcs. i’ve tried but nothing will solve the problem and i refuse to go through and relink every one of these fics because i spent hours putting together this original post and im exhuasted lmao. if you’re NOT on mobile click HERE :))

luke alvez x reader (criminal minds)

by @butsomeofusarelookingatthestars

biting the bullet

take me out

one moment

couples therapy 2

“…falling in love with my best friend”

unshaken

…the proposal

addicted to love

by @nelsonsmurdock

god only knows

claw marks

sugar daddy

good morning

making you jealous headcanon

missed by @writefasttalkevenfaster on my mind by @madamredwrites a kiss that shouldn’t have happened by @merlxn-emrys

spencer reid x reader (criminal minds)

by @wrecklessimagine

dermatillomania

anything

trip

breaking (part one) / and entering (part two)

soft hands

by @mentallydatingspencerreid

because i love you

conflict resolution

dare?

jealous

fearful

by @dontshootmespence

did you hear me?

hands off

a sudden change

by @nelsonsmurdock

not afraid anymore

real life

lolita / real life

by @bookofreid

love in numbers / part two

perfect timing

the doctor & the artist

fortune teller

avoidance

long way down

handle yourself

by @spencerdamnreid

undercover discovery

let me help

by @brywrites

love looks not with the eyes

model behavior

the reid effect part one / part two

close to you

model behavior

by @criminaldaddies

closer

forever

drunken make out? by @make-me-imagine just let me explain by @the-criminal-soldier touchy-feely by @thelovelylittlestorythatcould nerves by @thorne93 for the sake of a kiss by @totalfanfreak four years by @ughthatimagineblog torturous by @irwinsos snowbound by @criminal-minds-fanfiction

matthew gray gubler x reader

by @wrecklessimagine

“i tried my best…”

modeling

sex scene

twelve years younger

by @mentallydatingspencerreid

turnaround

standing out in a crowd

poe dameron x reader (star wars)

by @leiaorga-na

frustration

general ‘matchmaker’ organa

by @kboogie09

galactic soulmates

deal?

crazy in love

something else

by @justauthoring

when youre back

not today

help us out

thoughts betray you

five versus one

help us out

tired of your games

by @warqueenfuriosa

on flying and falling

kissing sweetly

my heart is yours

contact

by @certifiedskywalker

not enough time

snoozing

by @theincredibleultron

putty in your hands

you’re a skywalker?

five times you kissed poe dameron

10 things i hate about you

by @shenanigans-and-imagines

i could kiss you right now

i mean it

by @poedameronstories

motivation

stay

left unsaid / what remains / confrontations by @rqgnarok kissing by @buckyskywalks interrupted day off by @secretlyheatherchandler sarcasm by @x-dudes worth the wait by @fanfic-shiz two pieces of a whole by @we-are-all-obsessed-here black leader, shutting up by @parker-peter-parker trust me by @hairringtonsteve “why are you crying” by @whirlybirbs nothing more than a pretty face by @theonewiththefanfics

kylo ren x reader (star wars)

by @azurakenway

ask me a question (ben solo)

that’s no way to speak to your senator (ben solo)

watch my heart burn

protector of the apprentice

healing hands

‘did you enjoy the sight of me kneeling before you’

fallen in love

long live the supreme leader

red or black

across the stars (ben solo)

by @kyloholic

royal pains (ben solo)

clumsy (ben solo)

the supreme and his queen

divide and unite

professor ren series

by @justauthoring

come back (ben solo)

just tired (ben solo)

by @bad--bad--man (masterlist)

pretty baby

ben sorenn, you liar

always

its my destiny

by @theindifferentdroid

mad sounds pt 2

kiss on a dare

by @itsaconquestofimagination

sugar, we're going down

killing me softly

keep in the dark

an unlikely hero

classroom ship (ben solo)

jealous kiss (solo triplets! kylo)

bliss by @darth-dre truly special by @chaostheoryy somnum exterreri by @loverbug1123 slow burn by @tricksters-captain pickup lines by @kylo-renegade till the light burns out by @softestsolo nsfw alphabet by @whirlybirbs red by @the-new-fanfic-order discovered by @absolutekylotrash in my head (ben solo) by @leiaorga-na bonded / ii / iii / iv by @wandering-at-midnight

han solo x reader (star wars)

a ridiculous idea by @imaginethestarwars we’ve got problems by @astxrwar confession by @sincerelysaraahh

armitage hux x reader (star wars)

by @callmewinchester

fortitude

iunctus

by @whirlybirbs

nsfw alphabet

hux sex headcanons

by @azurakenway

little bird

caretaker

open up to me by @the-new-fanfic-order never again by @chaostheoryy golden slumbers by @idontgiveahux adulterer by @rosalynbair cat and mouse by @silentwanderlustfanfiction never a good time by @silentwanderlustfanfiction courage by @accio-zara iron by @zerohuxgiven resolution by @belikesnowbeautifulbutcold21 summoned by @natxpat

dylan o’brien x reader

by @cxddlyash

the gun range

doggie play date

theo raeken x reader (teen wolf)

hey babygirl by @rememberstilinski

derek hale x reader (teen wolf)

by @helplesslyinlovewithcharacters

atrocious

good enough

sorry to my unknown lover

compared to you

patience

by @perterhale

you are good

make this last

skin

by @fvckingbuchanan

my alpha

always an us

by @thegreatficmaster

dreams come true

love when you smell like me

play with me alpha by @thelittlehalewolf trained to fight by @stilinskiimagines tidal waves by @spxderbarnes how perfect by @urwarriorangel age restriction by @huntersanonymous taking care by @honestly-lahey watch it by @snipsnsnailsnwerewolftales

issac lahey x reader (teen wolf)

by @maximoff-pan

dating issac lahey (and being a witch)would include

dating issac lahey (and being a mccall) would include

bucky barnes x reader (marvel)

by @ballyhoobarnes

man’s best friend

study break

by @bbbarneswrites

russian muses

mended hearts

by @leiaorga-na

sparks fly

avoiding

‘best friends’

easy a by @imagine-assembling-the-avengers rooftop confessions by @sebbies attacked by @theincredibleultron reward (ft. matt murdock) by @persephone-is-here-omg @irndad ‘s bucky fic masterlist within the smoke by @revengingbarnes fight for you by @revengingbarnes touch by @starrywriting broken by @gaybybirth two haunted souls by @buckybarnesstar three’s company (ft. steve) by @sugardaddytonystark self defense by @marvelfic marks by @marvelfic like real people do by @bucketbarneslove

sebastian stan x reader

by @marvel-midtown

private people

bad at love

next door

no script by @revengingbarnes

matthew murdock x reader (marvel)

warm as the devil by @james-wesleys-sassy-eyebrow

tony stark x reader (marvel)

press coverage / less coverage by @astxrwar

steve rogers x reader (marvel)

hands to myself by @leiaorga-na “are you sorry now” by @prettyyoungtragedy coup de foudre by @mattymattymerduck

peter parker x reader (marvel)

by @softboy-holland

badass princess

just a kid

raspberry popsicles

broom closets by @leiaorga-na personal by @peterparker-imagines the mind reader by @strangershield euphemisms by @vinyloider thigh riding by @donttellpeterparker until you fell by @anakin-skywalkers four times by @dej-okay breathe by @something-fanfiction-ie online nemesis by @peterpcrkcr new light by @marvelellie

tom holland x reader

by @loserparker

distance

messy

kissing me by @marvel-midtown wanna taste by @valar--m0rghulis honest by @theironholland

frank castle x reader (marvel)

by @avengersandlovers

the breakfast table

leather and lace

bad together by @anakin-skywalkers troublemaker by @astxrwar couldn’t take it anymore by @propertyofpoeandbucky tired by @castawaybarnes

jason todd x reader (dc)

by @maruthor

precious asshole

disbelief

i’m just a monster by @dc-hoe always by @yj-tt-batfam-forlife you’d do that for me? by @maybe-its-5sos jason making is s/o cry by @angstytodd jason fucking todd by @alphaabucky

dick grayson x reader (dc)

by @dc-hoe

i don’t have anyone

i missed you

pleasure and ice

by @maruthor

they never told you / they never told him

one more chance

play pretend by @sheismental a quiet night by @dccomicsimagines love by @angstytodd electric currents by @dccomicsimagines

bruce wayne x reader (dc)

five am light / ten pm glow by @astxrwar for worse / for better / until death do us part by @soriseerakyra sneaky bastard by @ellana-ravenwood mind the gap by @maybe-its-5sos

clyde logan x reader (logan lucky)

to love a writer by @bad--bad--man room 1604 by @adumbdryer curse the cauliflower by @emmytypes

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vitamindripstherapy · 5 years

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The Nutrients You Required Right Now: Glutathione + B5 + High Dose B12

As devastating wildfires craze on in Northern as well as Southern California, the requirement to protect your system from the harmful impacts of smoke is more important than ever.

It goes without claiming that if exposure to smoke in the air is the closest you and I concern the fires that are swallowing up whole communities in both Northern and Southern California, then we should be greatly happy. That stated, the toxic results of smoke are actual ... as well as frequently dangerous. As smoke coverings the Bay Location, signals of "red" unhealthy air top quality have actually been issued for a week directly and also counting. Moreover, also if you're just going outside in short ruptureds, your body is still being revealed to significant quantities of poisonous chemicals. Consequently, you might see lack of breath, coughing, congestion, fatigue, itchy/dry eyes and also skin, migraine, nausea, mind fog, and sleeplessness, among various other signs.

But what about the impacts you don't observe? On a microscopic degree, the smoke in our air is triggering potentially long-lasting cellular damages. At best, it's maturing us ... at worst, it's establishing the stage for numerous chronic illness in the future (or aggravating existing ones).

During the California wildfires of 2017, B12 LOVE NDs, Elizabeth Korza and also Tara Levy, wrote about some easy steps you can take at home to shield yourself from smoke contaminants. However, if you wish to sustain your system past these day-to-day safety measures, there are 3 nutrients that ought to be top of mind when you visit your preferred regular B12 LOVE Delighted Hr (Pro Suggestion: You can request all three simultaneously as a "Glutathione Mixed drink" on our menu):.

Glutathione: Glutathione (GSH) is found normally in the body as a product of the liver. It's in fact a combination of three amino acids-- cysteine, glutamic acid, and glycine-- and also places as one of the most essential anti-oxidant produced by the body. That's right, the MOST essential! Especially, it prevents mobile damage brought on by cost-free radicals as well as peroxides, using security against oxidative stress and anxiety, mercury & toxic steels, alcohol, and natural contaminants.

" Every system in the body is influenced by the state of the glutathione system, especially the body immune system, the nerve system, the gastrointestinal system, as well as the lungs." Martin Gallagher, MD, DC, ABOIM.

Last month, Dr. Shannon as well as I attended a clinical conference which included a session titled "Glutathione: the most powerful antioxidant?" It ends up that's a rhetorical inquiry, as well as the answer is definitely of course, yes, as well as a lot more yes!

B5 (Dexpanthenol): Ideal understood for its energy-boosting results, B5 manufactures and metabolizes fats, healthy proteins, and also coenzyme-A (a vital component of cellular respiration). It's utilized as a treatment for exhaustion, adrenal stress, acne, as well as allergies.

High Dose B12 (5mg/mL Methylcobalamin or Hydroxocobalamin): As the base of every one of our nutrient injections, we can't claim enough good things concerning Vitamin B12 ... particularly in high dose concentrations (and btw, there's no such point as way too much B12!).

Moreover, the little extra dose of B12 makes a big difference in general well-being. It is an incredibly important vitamin for maintaining healthy nerve cells, as well as additionally helps in the manufacturing of DNA and RNA, the body's genetic product. In Addition, Vitamin B12 assists in red cell development and assists iron work better in the body. Vitamin B12 is not only increasing to the immune system, it helps battle fatigue, sleeping disorders, anxiety, persistent discomfort, anxiety, brain fog, and anemia, amongst various other things.

Got inquiries? Send us a message or come see us at one of our Happy Hrs. Remain healthy and safe out there!

~ Emily, R.N.

The post “ The Nutrients You Required Right Now: Glutathione + B5 + High Dose B12″ was appeared first on B12 Love by Emily Crichton

Know more about the benefits of iv vitamin therapy and how it can help you achieve optimum health. The IV Lounge is a highly recommended drip clinic in Toronto. Go check them out at www.theivlounge.ca

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jessefferguson · 5 years

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52,560 Hours Is A Long Time

After the final episode of the VEEP aired the other night, I was wondering how long it had been on the air. I realized it was just wrapping its first season on the day in May of 2013 when I got the results of my first biopsy and confirmation about my disease.

2,190 days ago today – 6 years – I sat in a sweltering doctor’s office waiting for the results of my first biopsy. Since then, I’ve had 6 or so more biopsies, 5 surgeries, more than 75 rounds of drug therapy, 45 days of radiation and more tests than I’d like to think about. But in those 6 years, none of them is seared in my mind like that first one. I was 32 then. I’m 38 now. And, as I see 40 on the horizon, I’ve found myself thinking a lot about how life would have been different if that biopsy had been different. 72 months or 52,560 hours. No matter how you slice it, 6 years is a long time.

My Thinking

Right now, work and life are good. My health is health – it’s never good but it’s not bad, either. It is what it is.

I’m at the age where it feels like 99% of my Facebook feed is filled with the family milestones of my friends -- having kids, first steps, first days of school. Occasionally when I see those, I wonder how my life would have been different if things had gone differently 2,190 days ago. Who knows. I can’t identify a direct impact of something I did or didn’t do because of cancer. There’s no clear thing I didn’t get to do. The only thing that’s known is that it’s unknown.

My work is a huge part of my life -- as anyone who knows me can attest. I’ve never been one for ‘work life balance’ and I’m not really a stop and smell the roses type. I’m more likely to wonder how those roses would look in a candidate photo shoot or whether they’ll be around after global warming. I started working in national politics just under 10 years ago, which means that most of the people I’ve worked with in those 10 years have known me as “Jesse with Cancer” longer than as just “Jesse.” That’s weird to think about.

2018 Election

As I’ve previously written here, on election night 2016, I staggered around Manhattan for a few hours to just think. At the conclusion of it, I got home and went back to work. On election night 2018, I feel like some of the work paid off. I spent most of the last 2 years as a general consultant on a variety of projects – doing issue campaigns, ad campaigns, polling research and independent expenditures. I was very unsure what I’d be able to do after 2016 – with the loss in the election and the reality of my health. While I wasn’t able to do everything I wanted, I continue to enjoy what I do. On most days, it’s what I wake up in the morning thinking about and what I go to bed at night worried about. I still get to spend most days wearing slippers and sweatpants at a standing desk in my apartment.

Over the course of the two years, I have probably advised about $45 million in programs and groups but, most importantly, was able to do it without ever having to put a tie on. I’m glad. I hate wearing ties. That’s especially good news because I have a tube in my neck that lets me breath – so I can’t wear a tie even if I wanted to.

Not all of my work was directed at the 2018 election, but a lot of it was. When I saw Nancy Pelosi get sworn in as Speaker of the House, it definitely put a skip back in my step – restoring a bit of my faith in democracy. But, also, my faith in myself and my ability to help with things even while balancing it with my health challenges.

It felt especially good to see her get sworn in because she was the one – 6 years earlier – who had told me to get on a plane and go see the doctors at MD Anderson in Houston. Those doctors ended up saving my life.

I didn’t go down to DC for her inauguration, though. I could make up a lot of fancy excuses why I didn’t go, but, to be honest, I would have needed to wear a suit & tie. C-SPAN works just fine.

How I Ruined One Of My Favorite Shirts

Even as I work, health concerns creep up. I’ve had a tracheostomy tube since 2015 when they put it in for that pesky reason that it’s good to be able to breathe. Anyone who has had one can tell you there is occasionally some blood in it – that’s normal. It’s a foreign object that doesn’t belong there.

After the last few years, I’m not a ‘run to the hospital’ kinda guy – I’m used to most of this. But by 2 am on Sunday, January 5th, 2019, it was clear there was a problem. Throughout the day that Saturday, it had gone from a little wisp of blood to blood soaked. At one point, I coughed in my bathroom and blood splattered all over the mirror above my sink. Probably time to find a doctor.

I packed towels and tissues around my trache and jumped in an Uber. The car had nice leather seats. I was worried I’d stain them. By the time I got into a hospital gown, the flannel shirt I was wearing was blood-soaked. One of my favorite shirts went into the trash can.

Even at 2 am, the staff there mobilized to figure things out. We did some tests and cleaned some things up. It helped. Out of an abundance of caution, they changed the tracheostomy tube to one that more securely protects my airway but doesn’t let me make any sounds – I can’t speak. That’s always been my worst fear since I got the tracheostomy. I talk for a living. It’s possibly my only redeemable skill.

Over the years, I have gotten really good at working from a hospital: I know where to tell them to put the IV so that I can still bend my arm and type on my laptop. The food tray makes a great computer desk. I know how to talk on a conference call while shielding the beep-beep noise if a heart monitor makes noise. I know how to take over the visitors’ reception area on the floor in the hospital after hours and turn it into a mobile office. If the Russians ever figured out to bug my various infusion rooms and hospital beds over the years, they would have figured out quite a lot about the Democratic Party.

I was in the hospital for about 10 days. The good news is that they have a delightful short rib on the menu and pancakes for breakfast, so I was fine. Oh, and about ½ way through my stay, they changed the tracheostomy back to one where I could talk. That was good news too.

It healed up. I took an Uber home. Since then, it’s not given me any real problems.

Problems like this sometimes creep up; they’re part of everyday living. In the moment, they seem terrible but in hindsight it’s just the way of things now.

The Hardest Day (GayleNation)

I sat in the way back of the Howard Theater that weirdly cold yet sunny day in Northwest, DC. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy to sit through that service so I sort of wanted to hide in the back. It was harder than I thought. Half-way through the service, as I watched friends, colleagues and even former bosses (and popular vote winner) give their eulogies, I had to walk out. I made it look like I was going to the bathroom but I really needed a few minutes of air. That was the hardest day of this last 12 months -- November 10, 2018, when we said goodbye to my friend Tyrone Gayle.

I remembered the night he called to tell me about his diagnosis. He knew what I’d been through and he asked for advice. I didn’t really have anything useful to say. We talked about whether it was a nightmare, I tried to make the case it was more like a bad dream.

I grieved the far-too-early passing a friend. I was sad to think he wouldn’t be part of my life and had only begun to reach his potential. But cancer had been the cause for this funeral – a young man taken at age 30. Many people were devastated with the news of his passing; many were as close and some even closer to him than I was. It was a hard day for a lot of people. I imagine my thoughts that day might have been a bit different than other peoples’.

I can’t believe that was six months ago. He was 8 years younger than I was when he died and he was diagnosed 3 years after I was. He had worked for me in 2013 when I was diagnosed and worked with me in 2016 when he was diagnosed. Whenever you have cancer and you hear about someone else with cancer, it’s difficult. When you hear about someone younger, it’s worse. When I heard about this – and when we lost him – it wasn’t so much a gut punch as it was a gutting.

Tyrone has passed away in late October of 2018 but they planned the memorial for after the midterm election. As the planners knew, Tyrone would never have let us take focus off the election to focus on him. A lot of tributes have been said and written more eloquently than I could about him – about his work with Tim Kaine, Hillary Clinton and Kamala Harris. He had an infectious optimism and an unrelenting drive. It was always weird up to look to someone who was more junior than you are, but I did.

After the service, many of the attendees got together at a local bar to continue the tribute. I saw friends from all walks of my life in Washington, but I ghosted on my plans for the rest of the night.

I sat in my hotel room that night and thought for a long time. Some thoughts were the normal ones -- how he’d be missed and what a void he’d left. But then, in my situation, the mind wanders to weird places. You start asking questions like “Why him and not me?” You think about what the differences could have been – He was younger. Did I get better treatment? Was my disease less severe? Why him and not me? You realize there isn’t a reason, that it’s fairly random. And you feel thankful and lucky because the lot didn’t fall on you. But you realize you shouldn’t think like that about the dear friend you just lost, so you push that thought as hard as you can out of your mind. But sometimes it creeps back in and you feel guilty when it does.

In the end of that night, though, I went to bed with a weird feeling. It was a feeling of jealousy – a weird kind of jealousy. If a memorial service is a tribute to how you lived and who you touched, Tyrone’s was filled with more than 750 people -- people whom he admired and people who admired him. I started wondering what mine would be like. There was no way I could match him. Anyone with cancer who tells you they don’t think about their own mortality is lying through their teeth.

Where Am I Now?

This Tuesday, May 21st, is 6 years since I was diagnosed. This Friday, May 24th, I’ll hop downtown and get my latest treatment. We know the cancer is still in me; that hasn’t changed. But, generally speaking, we have it under control. Sometimes we have to deal with an issue here or there but it’s not creating life threatening problems.

I’ve been on the same drug trial since last year. I still go down to Sloan Kettering every 3 weeks for a 30-minute drug treatment. Two hours of work from the same hidden corner of the doctor’s office while they get the drug ready. I know all the nurses who have the Friday shift and they know me. Some of them even know the best places in my arms to start an IV line. The treatment doesn’t have any particularly problematic side effects. So, I’m not healthy but I’m not currently sick. It’s really more like a chronic condition.

For so long, cancer has been either something you’re cured of or something that kills you. More and more people like me are just living with it. Interferes with life, there are ups and downs, sometimes you need an extra treatment, or you ruin a perfectly nice flannel shirt. But, you live with it and you live your life.

At the bar after Tyrone’s funeral, I ran into his wife Beth. I had seen her throughout the day but had been avoiding her cause I didn’t think I could hold it together. Spoiler alert, I didn’t hold it together.

As we talked, she told me something that I truthfully already knew. She told me if I didn’t keep fighting to keep myself healthy and keep fighting to do what I wanted to be doing, that Tyrone would have kicked my ass.

p.s. If you have interest, learn more about the memorial scholarship fund in Tyrone’s memory and make a contribution.

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robininthelabyrinth · 7 years

Text

Hole in the Fence (Coldwave with goats)

Fic: Hole in the Fence (ao3 link) - chapter 1/3 Fandom: Flash, DC's Legends of Tomorrow Pairing: Mick Rory/Leonard Snart

Summary: Mick Rory's life was changed forever by the fire he didn't escape.

(in which Mick Rory retires, raises goats, and saves the world more than a few times)

WARNINGS: medical procedures, hospitalization, detailed description of injury recovery, emotional trauma, hurt/comfort

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First, there is the fire.

Then there is pain.

And in the end, there is darkness.

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Mick comes to awareness slowly, sporadically.

There are machines around him, he knows that first, and people, too, flitting in and out.

It’s perhaps three times before he realizes that he’s breathing by machine. He’s been intubated.

A hospital, then.

He’ll have to break out before they transfer him to prison, though it depends on the severity of the injury. He doesn’t entirely remembers what happened, but that’s fine. He’s still in shock.

He tries to move a hand.

It doesn’t really work, but a few cords seem to quiver in the air as a result.

IV, he thinks. Several of them, even. Ugh, that probably means he has a catheter, too, which always makes breaking out…tricky.

He’ll worry about that later.

He slips back into sleep.

The next time he wakes up, he hears voices.

“– reduction in edema is above average,” a crisp female voice is saying. “CO levels are continuing to drop; I think we can reduce the percentage of oxygen further. This is a good sign,” she adds.

“Any idea when he’s gonna wake up?” a male voice, heavily accented with the nasal drone of Central City, asks.

Mick knows that voice.

It’s Len.

That’s a surprise. Len hates hospitals.

Not as much of a surprise as when the female voice replies, “I’m sorry, Mr. Snart, but there’s no way to tell. We’ve taken Mr. Rory out of the medically induced coma, but returning to awareness is a slow process. He’s woken up several times, but we haven’t been able to make any further determinations regarding –” Her voice fades away, as though they’re walking.

Mr. Snart. Mr. Rory.

Len gave them their real names?

Mick can’t help but make a dissatisfied sound.

“Did you hear that?” Len asks, his voice oddly high-pitched, choked up. Doesn’t sound like him at all, though it's definitely him. “He’s awake!”

“Mr. Snart,” the female voice says. “Please come with me –”

“But he’s awake – he’s –”

“Our nurses will make that determination. Please, with me, Mr. Snart.”

Mick tries to say something, but the goddamn intubation doesn’t help. There are women and men fussing around him.

He slips under again despite his best efforts to stay awake.

When he next wakes up, though, his throat is sore in a way that says the intubation is gone, though he still has an oxygen mask. He’s still very fuzzy, which means they’re giving him the good drugs. That’s nice. Hospitals often don’t bother, with him; they take one look at his record and assume he feels the pain less than most. Sometimes with Len they don’t believe he feels it at all, not until he opens his eyes and puts on the charm, anyway.

“Mr. Rory,” a gentle voice says. “Can you hear me?”

Mick blinks.

“Hsptl,” he slurs.

No, that’s not right.

“Yes, Mr. Rory; you’re at the hospital,” the voice continues. Must be one of the nurses. “We’re going to go through your ROM exercises – that’s range of motion exercises, Mr. Rory. You’ll also get a massage. You don’t need to do anything right now, I’m just letting you know that that’s what’s happening. Do you understand me?”

Mick makes a grunting noise he hopes she interprets as agreement.

The exercises are unpleasant when he can feel them, which isn’t always, but he’s really high on the good stuff right now, so he’s okay with it. He’ll worry about it later. Lenny’s around; Lenny’ll worry about it until he’s good enough to break out.

“All right, Mr. Rory, we’re done,” the nurse says. “Now, we’ve discussed this before the last time you woke up, but do you remember what happened?”

Mick doesn’t.

Except –

“Fire?”

“Yes, Mr. Rory, you were in a fire. You were very badly burned, but we’re taking good care of you.”

Mick wonders when Lenny will break him out.

He slips away again.

This sets the pattern for a while. He’s not entirely sure how long; eventually they remove the splints and replace them with compression bandages, which he approves of.

They also start active ROM exercises, which he does not approve of. Those require effort. He’s only awake for ten, fifteen minutes at a time, guys; give him a break. And that’s not counting the changing of the bandages, the injections, the massages, swapping the IVs…

Mick hears Len’s voice often, though usually distantly. Talking with the doc – Dr. Disha Bhavasar runs lead on Mick’s team, apparently. Mick wasn’t aware he had a team.

Sometimes Len helps out with some of the medical stuff. Nothing serious – changing an IV bag, helping them flip Mick over, stuff like that.

Sometimes Len reads stuff out loud from the chair by the bed when he thinks Mick is asleep.

Mick tries to ask him once what the plan is, but his tongue is still thick in his mouth and anyway Len jumps out of his seat and runs for the doctor the second he realizes Mick’s awake.

Totally not helpful, Len.

The doctor makes the nurses put him through ROM exercises.

Next time, Mick just enjoys listening to Len read for a while.

…doesn’t make them stop bugging him to do his exercises.

Len’s there every day, Mick thinks, which is a bit weird. Len shouldn’t do something like that; hanging around a hospital is a sure-fire way to be caught. Unless he also got hurt or something?

He doesn’t look that hurt. They should’ve transferred him to prison by now.

Mick’s about to figure it out when the nurses sweep in.

Ugh. More exercises.

Mick’s got all sorts of elastic wrap covering his hands, arms, and legs, he’s found; he thinks it’s custom-fitted even though what little he can see of his hands are clearly all puffy, meaning that they need to swap the sizes every once in a while.

At least he’s starting to stay awake for longer. Think more.

It still takes almost unforgivably long for him to ask Shlomit – his favorite of the nurses, mostly because she has a sadistic streak a mile long and literally no sympathy – where the hell they are, because this is definitely not a hospital. It smells like one, sure, but the walls are painted a respectable shade of blue and the nurses wear scrubs but it’s the same nurses every day and he’s got a group that he recognizes by now. It doesn’t feel like a hospital.

“It is a private clinic,” she tells him. “We care for burn patients exclusively.”

Mick frowns. A clinic. Exclusive to burns.

“Is this expensive?” he asks suspiciously.

Shlomit arches her eyebrows at him. She has pale green eyes that shine all the brighter against her warm brown skin, and her hair is bound back under some sort of scarf as always; she’s explained to him that she’s Orthodox. Orthodox what, he’s not sure, but it’s never really mattered to him. “I wouldn’t worry about that,” she tells him, which means yes.

“Is Lenny just burning money?” he demands. He still slurs a bit when he talks, now, but it’s much better than before; he can make himself understood.

“Are you implying that we’re not taking good care of you?” she asks archly. “I think that means you’re ready for some more stretching.”

“You’re evil,” Mick says, not without admiration.

“Yeah, people say that,” she says, getting him started on the initial stretches. “Do you feel up to a visit from your therapist?”

Mick’s been refusing it – he hates prison therapists – but if this is some sort of private clinic…

“Hey,” he says. “Any chance we get Ji-hyun? She’s my go-to back in Central.”

Shlomit rolls her eyes. “Yes,” she says patiently. “She’s available.”

“Nice.”

Ji-hyun has been his psychiatrist and therapist for a while. He likes her. She also has no sympathy and starts to threaten him with bodily harm if he skips too many of his pills or visits, which maybe wouldn’t work for most people but is just the way he likes it. She speaks his language.

She’s also willing to accept under-the-table cash in exchange for not reporting his regular visits to the CCPD, but she says that’s only because she thinks Mick needs the therapy more than he does a prison cell so Mick is pretty okay with that.

She comes marching in, hands on hips. “Michael,” she says, because she called him that once by accident and now it’s turned a nickname. “What is this I hear about you not wanting to see me?”

“I thought you’d be a prison shrink, Ji-hyun! It ain’t my fault!”

She huffs. That huff clearly states that it’s totally his fault and she’s going to make him pay for it.

Mick smiles.

She sits down. They make small talk for a bit before she goes for the jugular. “Michael. You were burned badly. You will need to make adjustments to your life because of this.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says. “I –”

“No, Michael. This is not a ‘yeah, yeah’. This is quite serious. The doctors tell me you do not listen to them. You will listen to me.”

Mick frowns. “Okay,” he says. “I’m listening.”

“Your back, shoulders, arms, and legs were burned very badly,” she says.

“I know that much,” Mick says. “That’s why I spend most of my time on my belly.”

“There were third and fourth degree burns over half your body, Michael. The smoke got into your lungs, your throat. There was damage there, too. You have required skin grafts when the skin split open –”

“I don’t want skin grafts,” Mick objects. “I like the burns.”

“You need it to live,” Ji-hyun snaps. “You will need rest and rehabilitation, even after you are fit to leave. Your mobility will be affected.”

Mick has been ignoring the docs about this, this is true. Docs always exaggerate. But if Ji-hyun says it…

“How bad?” he asks.

She levels a look at him. “Bad, Michael,” she says, and her voice is gentle. Her voice is never gentle. “It will take you much time to recover. And we do not know how long it will take. But you will recover, because you are the most stubborn blockhead I have ever met.”

Mick is very subdued when she leaves. He’d known it was bad, of course – even he can’t miss the bandages wrapped all around him, the pain that he still takes far too much medication for, the way he coughs often and his chest hurts when he tries to talk too much – but he hadn’t really been listening when people had told him that it was really bad.

“I’d like to see Len – uh, Mr. Snart – if he’s here,” he tells Shlomit.

“He’s always here,” she tells him.

“He is?”

That…definitely doesn’t sound like Len.

“What does he even do?” Mick wonders.

“He takes classes,” Shlomit says. “He has occasional panic attacks which are very inconvenient for everyone because he tries to hide them among a room filled with trained professionals. He reads to you when you sleep, sometimes. He’s on the phone pretty often, setting something up; I think it has to do with your home.” She considers for a moment. “He watches from the observation room, through that glass plane, sometimes, when you’re awake and doing your stretches, but he refuses to come inside even when we invite him.”

That’s a lot to take in.

“What sort of classes?” Mick asks.

She looks at him oddly. “To learn to help take care of you when you move to outpatient status, of course,” she tells him.

Mick swallows.

Oh.

That bad.

Guess Len’s not here to break him out after all.

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Len is finally coaxed into Mick’s hospital room a few days later.

“They said you wanted to see me,” Len says. His face is blank, masked; even Mick can’t tell what he’s feeling.

“Yeah,” Mick says. “How much this place fucking cost?”

Len’s eyebrows arch in surprise. That’s clearly not where he expected Mick to start. “That’s not important.”

“It is if it’s coming out of my stash,” Mick points out, then coughs wetly. Goddamn lung damage.

“It’s not,” Len says shortly. “Next question?”

“You gave ‘em our real names.”

“They needed your full medical history,” Len says.

Mick nods. He’d figured as much.

“So how long?” he asks.

“How long what?”

“Till the cops get on our asses.”

Len blinks owlishly at him.

“Cops,” Mick says. “Pigs. Police. You remember them? You get hit on the head or something?”

“I didn’t get hit on the head,” Len says. “I’m just not getting the relevance.”

“I got caught, didn’t I?” Mick asks. “Caught means ambulance, hospital. They report to the cops. Cops come and pick us up. Except I guess this time was really bad, so we got longer before they come, right?”

“They’re not going to come,” Len says slowly. He pauses for a moment. “You – don’t remember? What happened?”

“No,” Mick says. “Disha says it’ll probably come back. Even odds.”

“Her name is Dr. Bhavasar, Mick.”

“Her first name is Disha.”

“She’s in charge of saving your life right now, you –” Len pauses, pulls himself back. Calms down, even though he wasn’t exactly ranting and raving, just raising his voice the slightest bit. Mick hasn’t seen him this forcefully self-controlled outside of a job in years; not since his dad split for good. “You should be respectful.”

“She doesn’t mind,” Mick points out. She’s said as much.

“You don’t remember anything?” Len presses.

“Not yet,” Mick says.

Len abruptly stands up. “I’ll come back later,” he says, and leaves.

Mick frowns after him.

Time to start digging through his memories, clearly.

Len comes back a few hours later, just when Mick is in the middle of his gait training, which is fucking awful. His feet weren’t actually even burned, thanks to his boots, but his legs were, and due to the way they’ve been healing – the docs call it contracture, and they’ve been working on minimizing it, sometimes with surgery that involves literally cutting him open so his own goddamn skin doesn’t strangle him – his feet sometimes feel like they’re at different lengths. They might actually be, at that. The compression bandages don’t help, either, but Disha says that if he practices walking (she calls it ambulation, but he’s corrected her enough times for her to finally break out a smile) enough, she thinks the gait deviation will mostly correct itself. Mostly.

Mick still uses a wheelchair when he needs to get around, most of the time. Not that he really gets around much.

Not even Mick’s inventive swearing gets a grin out of Len, not even when the nurses help Mick back onto the bed – he’s gotten better at transferring in and out of the weird backless wheelchair and the crutches, but he’s not perfect, and they’ve put him back into the splints for a while as he keeps re-building muscle so he can keep his posture.

He apparently lost quite a bit of muscle.

Endurance and strength training to build it back up is probably the only part of this which is deeply familiar to him.

Disha starts explaining to Len what she’s doing with the splints and helping Mick back into bed.

“You learning this crap, Lenny?” Mick asks, aiming for pleasant and coming out only slightly grumpy. Physical therapy is hard and frustrating, and occupational therapy is frustrating on a totally different level, so grumpy is the best Len’s going to get.

Len doesn’t say anything, just presses his lips together, but he sits down and takes one of Mick’s arms and starts applying some sort of lotion in just the same manner as Shlomit is doing on the other side.

“Are you moisturizing me?”

“Your skin is dry,” Shlomit says, as if Mick is asking her instead of Len. “Burn scars do not sweat; your skin will require lubrication on a regular basis into the indefinite future.”

“Not the thing I was thinking I’d like lubricated,” he says, winking at her.

She gives him an unimpressed look. “I get to wash you with a sponge later. Including the areas with the pus.”

“Love me, love my pus.”

Len snorts.

“He speaks!” Mick says. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten how.”

Len swallows, hard.

“How long till he needs to go outpatient?” he asks Disha, unhelpfully ignoring Mick.

“I think we can make the transfer soon enough,” Disha replies. “I would prefer him to be in a familiar environment, if possible, but somewhere quiet is more important. As I’ve explained to you before, a quiet place with a moderate climate and accessibility accommodations is the most preferable.”

“I’m sick of these walls,” Mick volunteers. He’s been here two months already. It’s time to go.

“Of course, he’ll have to continue treatment on a regular basis.”

Mick sighs. So much for that. He permits the nurses to help him into his compression garments where they’ve given up with the splints. It’s like a jacket that holds him tight. It helps with the itching.

“You’ve been doing quite well,” Disha tells him. “We didn’t even have to amputate anything.”

“…was that a risk?” Mick asks, slightly alarmed.

Len leaves the room again, rather abruptly.

“He needs to stop doing that,” Mick adds, staring balefully after him.

“It’s difficult for him,” Shlomit says. “He was involved in the discussions early on – he is your medical power of attorney, after all. He vetoed an early amputation that we thought might be necessary.”

“Good,” Mick says, then pauses. “Wait, what was being suggested to be cut off, exactly?”

“It’s not important,” Shlomit says. “We didn’t do it and it turned out we didn’t have to in the end, and best of all you didn’t die of sepsis as a result of us not doing the amputation.”

“It’s a good thing Mr. Snart got you here within five hours of the injury,” Beth, the other nurse, says. “We were able to take care of you right away instead of getting you through the hospital system – they usually call someone in, but it’s not necessarily immediate and they don’t have the expertise we do.”

Within five hours?

Mick – remembers.

There was a fire. A warehouse – it went up. There was an ambulance. Len broke into it, guns blazing; ditched the drivers and drove like a maniac. Something was wrong with his face. It shone in the light like it was wet or something, but that’s ridiculous; Len doesn’t cry, and certainly not in public.

There was a fire.

A warehouse.

Len was screaming his name.

It went up so fast. Something went wrong on the job; it shouldn’t have gone up so fast.

There was a fire.

There was –

Len shouting at him.

Saying they were done, that he was out, that Mick had gone too far –

“I think I’d like to go to bed now,” Mick says.

The nurses frown at him, but comply.

He doesn’t sleep.

Len’s out.

Len doesn’t change his mind about things like that.

If you’re out, you’re out. Period.

Why is Len still here?

Len comes by a few hours later with his book. They’re going through Twenty Years After, which is apparently the sequel to the Three Musketeers. It’s been pretty enjoyable thus far, and Len never minds going back a few chapters because Mick fell asleep last time.

Mick waits until Len’s sitting.

“Thought you were out,” he says.

Len freezes.

A moment passes.

“Thought you didn’t remember,” he drawls at last. His voice is unreadable, buried behind so many layers of ice that even Mick can’t tell what he’s thinking.

“Disha said it’d come back,” Mick says. He pauses. “You broke into an ambulance for me.”

Len swallows. “You’re my partner,” he says. His voice is rough, like it’s his throat that’s too tight. Like Mick’s sounds now, with the smoke damage. “Least I could do.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Mick snaps.

“I picked the job,” Len snaps back. “Me – I’m the planner. It’s my job to case the places out ahead of time – I should’ve known –”

“What, that it’d go up in flames like it was covered in accelerant? Don’t be stupid. You ain’t stupid, Len.”

“No,” Len says. “I am, sometimes. Now shut up and let me read, or else I’m throwing this book in the garbage and you’ll never find out if they all die.”

“They’re not all gonna die, it’s a novel and they’re the heroes,” Mick says automatically.

“Yeah, a novel - from the nineteenth century.”

“They don’t die in the movie.”

“Hollywood,” Len says, like it answers everything. Which it probably does.

Mick wants to keep talking, but he also really does want to know if everybody dies now. “Fine,” he says. “But we ain’t dropping this.”

Len doesn’t respond. He starts reading.

They never do get to talking about it again, though.

Disha starts talking to Mick about the move to outpatient.

Len gets more involved in helping with the ROM exercises, his face utterly blank the entire time. Mick would say something, but he’s usually panting in pain and exertion.

Len does pretty well with the daily lotion applications and scar massages, though. Mick still doesn’t feel much through the scars, though that seems to be improving somewhat.

Mick goads Len to talk some more during those, little jabs and quips and eventually – as much as it pains him – setting up some truly horrific puns that it would physically pain Len not to complete.

That cracks the ice.

(Yes, pun goddamn intended to reflect Len's cold-hearted reputation. If that's what it takes to get his partner back...)

Len starts talking again. Not much, but some.

“It’s itching again,” Mick grumbles.

“I’ll give you another massage, you big baby,” Len says, rolling his eyes, but he’s as good as his word. It helps with the itching.

“You think you can handle all this?” Mick asks. “When we’re out of this hellhole?”

“I’ve got a plan,” Len says.

That’s comforting. Mick likes it when Len has a plan.

Mick doesn’t ask too many questions.

Well, he doesn’t until he sees the house, anyway.

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“What the fuck,” Mick says flatly once he’s lying in bed again.

“What?” Len asks. “Don’t like the color?”

He frowns at the walls of the bedroom, like somehow that’s the problem here.

That is not the problem here. The walls are a very pleasant shade of golden tan.

“Len,” Mick says slowly. “Where are we?”

“The house where you’ll be doing your outpatient –”

“Len.”

“…what?”

“I’ve never seen this house before,” Mick says. “We don’t have a safehouse in the middle of the countryside.”

Mick is very sure of this. He’s from the countryside; he was born and raised on a farm. Len, on the other hand, wouldn’t know an ear of corn from a blade of grass and prefers their safehouses to be more of the wealthy apartment building or abandoned industrial warehouse style.

Len looks offended. “It’s not in the middle of the countryside – it’s still a suburb of Central, just one with a lot of free space and –”

“Not the issue!”

“What’s the issue then?!”

“When did we get this house?”

“I bought it,” Len says, like it’s obvious.

Mick blinks.

“You bought it,” he says.

“Yeah,” Len says. “For your recovery. The doc said you need somewhere with a temperate climate and lots of mobility assistive devices like ramps and –”

“You’re kidding me,” Mick says.

“No,” Len says, seeming puzzled. “This was the first place that came up on my search. And you like green places, don’t you?”

“Tell me you took some of it out of my stash,” Mick says with a sigh. Len is literally burning money on this stupid thing. They’re going to have to go on so many jobs to build their stashes back up when Mick is back in the game.

Len looks shifty. He’s an idiot.

“How much did this place cost, anyway?”

“Will you stop worrying about cost?” Len says. “I’ve saved up some.”

“‘Buying a house’ some?”

“Well, yeah. I wanted somewhere nice and legal so the pigs wouldn’t look for us. Even got us cleaned up IDs, proper backstories and all that, and destroyed all the open cases against us. We’re free and clear for now.”

Mick has to admit that’s a good point. He’s going to need a few more months.

He keeps saying that to himself.

A few more months.

Just a few more.

He tries not to think about what Len promised that they’d do in exchange for the IDs. High-end clean identities is the type of stuff you pay for in favors, not in cash.

Shlomit bustles in. “Guess what time it is!” she sings. “PT time!”

Mick glares at her. “Your reign of terror is coming to an end, you know.”

He’s slightly regretful about it. She’s fun to snark with.

“Nope,” she says, looking satisfied. “I took the parachute.”

“The what?”

“I’m staying on here to help you out as a full-time nurse,” she clarifies. “The PT comes every morning, the OT every afternoon; I’ll assist with both and also handle helping you with additional ROM exercises, walking, medication, everything.”

Mick blinks. “Really? But your job…”

“It’ll be open for me when I’m done with you,” she says. “Double my pay plus benefits is too good an offer to pass up.”

Mick blinks again.

“I’m gonna kill him,” he says blankly. “We can’t afford that.”

Shlomit pats Mick’s belly, where he has no burns and therefore can feel her doing it. “He paid half a year in advance,” she says. “I think he’s fine.”

“He’s literally burning money,” Mick says, still bewildered.

“Your insurance is covering a large part of it,” Shlomit offers, but that’s weird because as far as Mick was aware, he didn’t have insurance.

None of this makes sense.

At first, Mick doesn’t think about it too much. Len does weird things sometimes, and who is Mick to question how Len spends his money?

So Mick does his PT. He does his OT. He takes his medicine. He lights his fires on a strictly regulated basis so that he doesn’t get too anxious, monitored closely by Len and Ji-hyun.

He does endless stretching.

Len comes by twice a day to help with the massages and the application of lotion, which he’s taken over. Shlomit is quite pleased with that; she says Mick’s more relaxed when Len’s the one applying it.

Not Mick’s fault he associates her with agonizing pain.

A week goes by.

“Half a year, you said?” he asks Shlomit.

“How’s that?”

“You said you were paid up for half a year?” he asks. “You think I’ll need you the whole time?”

She frowns at him. “Need, no,” she says. “But don’t worry; I’ve taken a year off of work, with an option to increase it to two.”

A cold chill runs down Mick’s back. “One to two years?” he says numbly.

“Your scars might not finish maturing until then,” she says. “Complications are pretty common – most hospitals recommend at least 18 to 36 months of close care. We’ll focus on improving your movement and capability, of course, but there’s always the risk of infection.”

Almost as if that conversation triggers it, Mick comes down with a hundred and three degree fever the next day.

It takes two weeks to fight it off.

Len helps every day with the itching and the moisturizing and everything.

“That wasn’t too bad,” Shlomit says encouragingly when she finally declares the infection gone. “You should’ve seen the one right after you arrived at the clinic.”

“You’re so cheerful,” Mick groans. “Be sure to keep that chirpy voice up during my funeral, will you?”

“Don’t be absurd,” she says. “If you’re not dead yet, we’re not going to let you die now. Not after all that hard work!”

“You just want the credit.”

“Hell yes I want the credit. You had burns over 60% of your body; that’s a 43% mortality rate.”

Mick pauses. He hadn’t realized it was quite that high.

“43%?” he asks.

“Between 43% and 57%,” she reports. “Most deaths occur within two, three weeks. Septic shock, infection, pneumonia…your immune system is fucked up and will remain fucked up for a good long while.”

She shrugs when Mick gapes at her. “This is a good place,” she tells him. “Not too warm, not too cold, lots of nature. There’s a porch for when you feel up to it – you’ll be able to go out in the sun more, as long as you remember that your skin is going to be extremely sensitive to temperature changes.”

“Sensitive to temperature changes.”

“You know that already,” Shlomit points out. “It goes along with your inability to sweat. No more temperature regulation where the burn was – and a lot of your body was burned.”

Mick swallows. “How long does that last?”

“The sensitivity? I doubt it’ll ever go away. You’ll have to make sure not to go anywhere too hot and not to over-exert yourself; your temperature regulation is just gone. Why?”

“And – my lungs? How did that go? From the beginning.”

“You’re getting much better,” she says. “First we were worried about carbon monoxide poisoning, then we thought the swelling in your chest would threaten your airway, then there was the toxicity of the smoke...”

“Len knows all of this stuff?”

“Since day one,” she says. “He approved every one of your thirty-four surgeries.”

“Thirty four?”

“Not the worst I’ve ever seen. Pretty bad, though. You had some issues up front with the skin grafts – we’re always worried about a delayed failure or some sort of skin breakdown.” This time she knocks on wood when she says it. “Don’t do it this time,” she tells him. “I really don’t recommend it.”

“I won’t,” Mick promises, swallowing hard.

Somehow, getting it all listed out like that, all at once, makes it real.

He understands, now, why Len spent all that money on buying them a place out in the countryside, surrounded by green, just like Mick’s always liked. Why he made sure to pay with washed money that the cops wouldn’t track. Why he traded favors for the clean identities.

Why he cared about details like the color of the walls.

Why he hired Mick’s favorite nurse.

Why Len would spend all of his hard-earned stolen money on Mick like this without taking half from Mick’s stashes.

Why any of it.

Mick had thought it was just Len being ridiculous, spending all this money and time when Mick’s just going to go back to being with Len wherever they may roam, but it’s not. This isn’t just an injury that he’ll jump back from, back to being Len’s partner, back to being in the game, back to the fight with the cops and the chase and watching Len’s back.

This is Mick being put out to pasture.

This is it.

No wonder Len’s been so stone-faced all the time. Mick’s probably caused him more agony than anyone, ripping his heart in two. Thirty four surgeries, possibility of amputation, infections, carbon monoxide poisoning…

Mick’s out of date.

Out of the running.

Out.

No wonder Len went back on his promise to be out. He didn’t need to be out.

Mick is.

Ji-hyun tries to talk to Mick about it, but Mick refuses. Therapy won’t help this wound.

He hears Shlomit call Disha on the hall telephone, asking about depression and PTSD and treatments thereof.

He ignores it.

He lights the fires more and more, staring into his lighter, burning small pieces of papers to help relieve his anxiety, but it doesn’t really help.

He waits for the day that Len starts coming by less often.

Less often and less often, until he’s not coming by at all.

The day Mick turns on the news and sees that the brilliant Leonard Snart has got himself a brand new partner, someone who can stand tall beside him, someone who isn’t a burned-out useless shell.

Oddly enough, though, it doesn’t seem to be happening.

Len never seems to be gone more than a day. He’s there, every morning, to put lotion on Mick’s back and arms and legs, to give him a massage – which Shlomit could do instead and often does in the evenings if Mick’s feeling tense – almost without fail.

It’s a month before Len misses a day.

Mick thinks to himself, this is it, but Len’s back the next day, and he sticks around all day, that day, instead of disappearing in the evening like he often does.

He sticks around that whole week, chattering like a magpie.

After that, his visits become, if anything, even more regular. He’s there in the morning, leaves, returns in the evening. He brings movies and books and stories about people in Central.

Mick doesn’t understand.

Doesn’t he know that Mick gets it? That Mick understands that he’s useless now?

But even his best attempts at chasing Len away, using his sharp tongue because he’s not up to using his fists, don’t make even the slightest dent. Len keeps coming around.

Mick needs to think of a way to do it. To let Len go, instead of being chained here by guilt or pity or whatever the fuck is motivating him.

He will.

And then he wakes up and sees the goat.

#dccoldwave #mick rory #leonard snart #goats #my fic

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