Chapter Text
It’s a lovely afternoon for a devastating conversation. I’m looking at this astonishingly beautiful red head who just walking in into my office with a hint of agitation on his sculptural-perfect face.
I noticed he is not on crutches and doesn’t limp at all, which makes me wonder he must be on some strong pain killers.
“Nice to see you. I think I’ve mentioned it’s better for you to have someone coming with you.” The nurse noted me that he is here alone before let him in.
“I know.” His gray eyes dimmed a bit, ”But it’s better this way.”
“Okay. If you are sure.” Sometimes asking for the patient to bring company already delivered the bad news. Then I consider, this would be a tricky one. For the first time in my decades of practice, I’m not sure if the news is totally bad.
He take the seat follows my gesture and seems more composed,” I’m good to hear this alone.”
“Right, so,” I begin to layout MRI images and tissue test results,” We have done some test since your last visit and be able to find the route course of your constant knee pain.”
“Okay.” He rubs his left hand on the end of his right arm. The stump is a bit red and raw for an old wound. I guess his anxiety should took the blame. But that is not the focus here.
“It’s bone cancer. We find a tumor under your knee cap and believe the growth of that nasty thing causes you constant pain.”
“Oh. I see.” Now he finally releases his stump and move the hand to torture the knee.
In this point I should intervene for being a responsible doctor. But I decide there is no point, since I know the knee will be gone soon before he can do any real harm to it with his hand.
“Don’t worry. Bone cancer has a high survival rate. And patients have good life expectancy in your age. We have the treatment and experiences.”
He give out a slight sign and his lips merely form a crook, “I guess it’s a good idea to be here by my own. Then this can be a surprise.”
I have to put on this pretend confusing look, “I beg your pardon?”
“Never mind.” Now he is actually smiling and the view is breath taking, “Please, just let me know what you are going to do to save my life.”
“I’m sorry to say this, but we would have to remove your knee.”
“I assume the removal also includes whatever below it?”
“Right, of course. We need to remove your left leg right above the knee.”
“I understand all infected tissues need to be removed in case of bone cancer so it won’t spread to consume more body part after the operation.” His hand now moves up from the profile of the boney knee cap to his thigh. The slender fingers leave trails on the woolen fabric at somewhere 10 inches above the knee.
I have a hunch of what this conversation is going.
“Do you think I might lose more than just knee and below?”
“It certainly could happen.” I clear my throat. “I will save whatever I can save. But the cancer can spread really fast. Sometimes we end up taking more than expected. That’s why I suggest you consider the operation ASAP.”
“That leaves me with no option. Let’s settle the date then.”
From the bad limp at his way out, I guess the pain killers are not strong enough after all.
The operation is scheduled at the earliest available slot. Maedhros will have only one weekend to say goodbye to most of his left leg. But knowing his story, it would be a proper goodbye compare to the loss of his right hand.
The only thing stop me from calling Fingon is the doctor patient privilege.
I’ve known Fingon since Meds School. It took only a few extra glimpse and touches on the stumps of a good looking DAK guy in physician class for us to acknowledge each other to be gay and devotee.
We made jokes when he first start to date this gorgeous red head super model who just lost his right hand due to an abduction go south. I asked him if he would do the amputation slightly higher if he knew Maedhros would become his boyfriend. And he laughed and said, “I only wish that crazy stalker tied up his legs instead of his hands. I could use more fingers on my dick than callused bone tip. And he would be at a much cuter height if the foot are gone. Talking and kissing him make my neck sore.”
Fingon is definitely not a short guy at 5’9, but Maedhros is at least 6’3. That’s just the occupation hazard for boyfriend of a Super model.
“It would be hell lot of stumps even if those legs are cut from knee.”
“I’d prefer no more than a third from hip. Around 7 inches is the perfect length of a stump to play with.”
“Not enough to wear a functional prosthesis though. You asshole.”
“Why would Mae need prosthesis?” Fingon gave a horrified face, “His wooden hand already makes me soft. A hook with over shoulder strips would be sexy but sadly his residual forearm is too long for that.”
“So you are regretting at not cutting off more.”
“Well, the way you say that out loud really makes me feel chastised. Quit it! I love Mae because he is a kind soul and hot like hell with or without all limbs!”
“Really?”
As a devotee, Fingon seriously thought it over and said, “Maybe not without all limbs.”
Also being a devotee and single back then, I solemnly replied, “I would take whatever you don’t want. No limbs is a treat.”
“I should get Mae listen to what you just said. He thinks you are a decent person and trying to match making you with some his model friends!”
“I don’t want model friends. Any rehab friends though?”
“You are goanna out us if we have this double date with two amputees.”
“How about a chair user then?” I bit my tongue right after saying it.
Fingon just cut the discussion and walked away.