Fic: Being sympathetic - part 2
Oh my, I've done it. This is so weird.
Series: Sympathetic
Fic: Unsympathetic
Rating: overall NC17
Warnings: mpreg, don't like, don't read.
Summary: Danny has a stomach bug and takes a trip to the doctor.
Danny grips the white porcelain toilet bowl tightly as another wave of nausea hits him. The scent of his own vomit wafting from the pot sends him over the edge and he throws up. Again. Well he tries to at least. There’s practically nothing left. It’s more dry heaving by now.
Less messy, equally uncomfortable.
Three weeks this has been going on now. Mostly in the mornings, but it’s happened a couple of times at night too, and there was one very badly timed incident at a crime scene.
With shaking hands he reaches up to flush the toilet and then he pushes himself up slowly, walking over to the sink, careful not to move too fast lest the nausea makes another comeback.
Steve is standing in the doorway, arms crossed. “Don’t bother getting ready for work Danno, you’re not coming in until you’ve been to the doctor.” Danny can tell his partner is trying to look strict, but really the man has no control over his face and he just looks worried.
Danny nods, taking a mouthful of water and swishing it through his mouth. Mouth wash would be more effective to get rid of the taste of vomit, but for some reason he can’t stand the scent of it anymore. It makes him puke, and he’s had enough of that recently, thank you.
After he spits he turns back to Steve. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I’m going. Maybe it’s time for a course of antibiotics or something.”
Steve nods, but he’s still looking troubled.
Danny rolls his eyes at him. “Babe, would you stop it with the aneurism face already? Other than a little puking I’m fine. It’s just a stomach bug. I’ll go to the doctor, get some magic pills and I’ll be right as rain. You could help you know. Stress weakens the immune system, maybe if you tried to set off a little less explosions, followed police procedure a little more often…my poor beleaguered immune system could fight off this bug without medical assistance.”
Steve snorts, dropping the hated face. “Beleaguered? Really Danno?” he says and then he checks his watch. “I’ve got to go.”
He nods and waits until he hears Steve jogging down the stairs before pulling up his shirt and staring at himself in the mirror. His belly is rounder than it should be. Nothing really noticeable to anyone else, but he knows his own body, and while he’s never been SEAL-fit, his body was nicely toned before. If he didn’t know any better he might have put it down to a few too many longboards and malasadas, but seeing as how neither of those vices has appealed to him in the last few weeks, he knows that’s not it.
He hates to admit it even to himself, but his ‘symptoms’, they’re pretty much exactly like what he experienced during Rachel’s pregnancy. Except for the nipple thing, thank god.
He groans and drops his shirt. It’s probably going to be the most mortifying conversation he’s ever had with a doctor, but he’s going to have to ask if it’s possible that the Couvade came back for some reason.
-------------------------------------------
“Alright Mr. Williams, how can I help you?”
The matronly family doctor looks at him expectantly. She has kind eyes and he’s suddenly glad he won’t have to tell his story to a male physician. It may be a cliché, but he really does think women are more understanding about this sort of thing. Or at least less likely to laugh in his face.
He decides to start with the facts. “I’ve been throwing up in the mornings for about three weeks. Certain smells make me nauseous, and I’ve noticed some uh…swelling.” He pats his belly in illustration.
She nods and takes some notes. “Swelling… You mean you’ve gained weight?”
He shakes his head. “No. Well, yeah…but it’s not normal weight gain. I know what it looks like when I gain a few pounds, and this is… different.”
“Different in what sense?”
“It seems more uh…localised to one area now.”
“Well, weight gain in men is often concentrated around the stomach or belly area, but if you take of your shirt and lie down on the examination table I’ll just have a quick look.”
Once he’s on the table she palpates his belly, lightly and then more deeply, asking him if it’s painful several times. It doesn’t hurt really, but it is sort of sensitive and he tells her as much.
“Well,” she says, “it doesn’t feel like subcutaneous fat. Visceral fat is a possibility. That’s fat located around your internal organs,” she explains, “it’s responsible for the ‘pot belly’ look. Considering your weight, fat percentage and overall health though…it doesn’t seem likely. Also there is some guarding. That’s muscle contraction when pressure is applied. There’s certainly some form of bloating, either from gas or from water retention.”
She places a stethoscope on his belly and listens for a minute. “Bowel sounds seem normal. No indication of an obstruction.” She taps his belly repeatedly, listening intently, but then she puts the stethoscope to the side. “You may put your shirt back on.”
When he’s buttoning up his shirt he decides to bite the bullet. “Doctor?”
“Yes?”
“A couple of years ago, during my ex-wife’s pregnancy I experienced symptoms of Couvade syndrome.”
“Ah. Is your current partner pregnant?”
He snorts and shakes his head.
“A family member or close friend?”
“No.”
She looks at him strangely and he feels his face getting hot. “Do you have any acquaintances that are pregnant at this time Mr. Williams?”
He shakes his head. “No. Look I know it’s ridiculous, okay? I mean how can you have a sympathetic pregnancy when there’s no one to be sympathetic with? But it’s just- the symptoms are a lot alike. With the nausea in the morning and the weight gain…” he trails off.
When he looks up at her there’s a twinkle in her eyes and he’s sure she wants to laugh, and professionalism is the only thing holding her back.
“Mr. Williams-”
“Danny”
“Well, Danny, I can honestly say I have never in my career heard about a man having Couvade syndrome when he wasn’t in very regular contact with a pregnant woman. So I’m very confident when I say that’s not the case here.”
She smiles kindly and continues. “All the same, because of the slight abdominal swelling, I’m going to send you in for an ultrasound to check for ascites. Ascites is a build-up of fluid in the abdominal cavity. If that were the case there are various possible reasons for it and a specialist would need to do further testing.”
There must be some concern showing on his face because she grins at him and continues. “Personally, I really don’t think you have anything to worry about. I’m fairly sure you simply have a case of a persistent stomach bug. But ascites can cause both nausea and vomiting, and abdominal swelling, and the sounds I heard during the percussion-the tapping I did on your belly? They weren’t entirely clear, so to be absolutely certain I’d like to have it checked. When the ultrasound shows that everything is normal we’ll start you on a broad-spectrum antibiotic and see how it goes from there. Alright?”
She prints him a referral and her assistant makes him an appointment for the ultrasound.
---------------------------------------
The next day he’s at Kuakini hospital, once again lying on an examination table. He hadn’t been allowed to eat twelve hours beforehand and then they asked him to drink two glasses of water and made him wait for another hour. Something about the bladder being full so they can get clearer images.
It’s left him hungry and with the pressing urge to take a leak. Not comfortable. And he just wants to get this over with so they can send the results to his doctor already and he can get started on the damn antibiotics.
He’s only wearing his boxers and one of those damn hospital gowns that they insisted he put on. He’s not sure why, since the guy operating the sonograph asked him to pull it up practically to his neck anyway, but that’s hospital logic. Like the damn wheelchair to take you outside when there’s nothing wrong with your legs or your balance.
Sonograph guy squirts a small mountain of icy gel on Danny’s belly with an apologetic smile. “Sorry man, I know it’s cold, but it’ll warm up soon and we’ll be done before you know it.”
The guy starts moving the transducer thingy methodically across Danny’s stomach, slowly working his way down. If Danny cranes his neck he can watch the screen that’s currently exposing his insides, but his neck starts to ache after a while so instead he just looks at sonograph guy. His name is Kale Kealoha, according to his nametag.
Kale looks concentrated, yet bored. Which is a good thing. Means there’s nothing out of the ordinary to see, and Danny’s all for being unremarkable in this case.
It’s because he’s watching Kale’s face so intently that he notices when the man’s expression changes from bored to carefully neutral.
The transducer has been at the same spot for some time now. Kale pressing harder, and softer, changing the angle, changing settings on the machine….
Finally he lays the transducer down on Danny’s belly and reaches for the phone.
“What?” Danny asks. “What is it? Is it that ascites thing?”
“The structures in this area are a little unclear, Mr. Williams, I’m just going to ask a doctor to be a second set of eyes.”
The guy is lying through his teeth and it sets Danny’s nerves on edge. His heart starts beating a little faster.
Kale picks up the phone again, presses a number, and says calmly “Doctor, I’d like your opinion on something if you don’t mind.”
The response he gets is obviously negative, because the man rolls his eyes. “Yes doctor, I understand. However I really do think your expertise would be welcome here.”
Danny’s heartbeat spikes further and the guy looks at him and pats his arm. “No need to jump to any conclusions Mr. Williams. There’s just something I want to consult the doctor on.” He picks up the transducer again and zeroes in on the same space he was looking at before.
Only then does Danny notice he’s pretty much stopped breathing. He lets out a slow controlled breath and concentrates on keeping his breathing deep and even while he waits for the doctor to arrive.
A short blonde woman storms in with an annoyed look on her face that turns to fascination when she looks at the screen.
After a while she states “Well, there’s obviously a periumbilical mass, right there.”
“A mass?” Danny asks, mouth suddenly dry, because that really doesn’t sound like something that’s supposed to be in there.
“Yes, a tumor of some form.”
Holy shit. Danny swallows thickly. “I have cancer?”
And even though he’s still lying on the freaking table Danny’s feeling like he stood up too fast. Black dots float in his vision and he blinks frantically until they recede.
“Well no, not necessarily.” The doctor says, “A cancer is by definition malignant. A tumor may be benign.” She picks up his chart and studies it for a moment. “But with the sudden onset of the symptoms and the apparent rapid growth, cancer does seem like a likely scenario at this point, yes.”
Kale sends the doctor a withering look behind her back and squeezes his arm. “Many forms of cancer are very treatable, Mr. Williams. You’re young and otherwise healthy. There are a lot of treatment options available nowadays.”
He latches on to those words. Cancer isn’t an automatic death sentence these days. He’s going to live. He’s going to fight this cancer--tumor-- whatever it is, and he’s going to live, because he’s happy damn it. The last year and a half, with Steve, he’s been fucking happy. And he’s not going to let some disease take it all away from him now.
The doctor interrupts his thoughts. “Well, with the way it seems to have already invaded the abdominal cavity, I’m thinking this is a fairly aggressive form-”
Fucking hell. Aren’t doctors supposed to wait until the examination is over? Sit you down in a nicely padded chair…pat your hand and then tell you ‘I’m afraid I have some bad news…’? Because lying half naked on a fucking ultrasound table with cold gel on his belly, dripping unmentionable places…it’s not exactly helping him take this calmly. And suddenly he whishes he hadn’t laughed at Steve when he suggested coming with him to the hospital.
“Doctor, I don’t think-” Kale starts.
The doctor, Doctor Hannah, Carmen Hannah, according to her nametag, raises an eyebrow at the guy and he falls silent before muttering. “Perhaps you could page a colleague who specialises in these types of…growths?
There’s a moment of tense silence before she simply turns around and walks out of the room.
Kale sighs. “Mr. Williams?”
“Danny”, he tells the man. Because he’s lying there half naked and somehow it feels more comfortable to be called by his first name in this situation.
“Danny. Have you ever watched that TV series about Dr. House?”
“Yeah.” He’d thought it was pretty interesting actually; the guy is sort of like a detective. Taking all the clues and deducing the most likely suspect.
“Well, doctor Hannah… she has his bedside manner…but lacks his amazing diagnostic skills.”
Danny snorts at that, despite feeling like his heart is in his throat.
“But we do have some very good doctors here,” Kale continues, “and I’m sure some of them will be here in a couple of minutes, and I think you should wait and see what they have to say okay? You’re in good hands here.”
It doesn’t take long before the doctor is back with two other doctors, who introduce themselves as a gastroenterologist and an oncologist specialised in colon cancer. “It’s really quite remarkable,” doctor Hannah babbles as they stare at the screen while Kale gently moves the transducer over Danny’s belly.
They talk about him like he’s not there, throwing around medical terms like they really are on an episode of House and Danny tries to keep his breathing under control. Screw justifiably concerned, he’s just plain fucking scared by now, and Kale seems to be the only one who notices. “Is there someone we can call for you?” he asks.
“Steve” Danny mutters, “he’s my emergency contact. Can you ask him to come?” Because yeah, he’d been embarrassed to talk about his complaints with Steve because he thought the Couvade syndrome had somehow made a mysterious comeback, but this is so much more serious and he wants him there. Preferably now.
Kale takes the phone, presses a number, and asks whoever is on the other side, nurse’s office probably, to get in contact with Danny Williams emergency contact. He stresses it’s not an immediate emergency, more of a case of bad news, but Danny feels guilty anyway, because he knows Steve is going to freak out when he gets a call from the hospital. He considers telling them not to call, but then again, if Steve were in his place, Danny would want to know and he’d tear Steve a new one for not calling him. Which is exactly what Steve would do, because he’s a Neanderthal animal who still sometimes thinks he has to cope with everything by himself. Danny is slowly but steadily curing him of that notion.
Kale is playing with the transducer thing again and then he just sort of…gasps.
“What?!” Danny asks, craning his head to look at the screen.
Kale shakes his head. Not in a ‘I don’t want to tell you way’ but more of a ‘I don’t know what the hell that is kind of way.”
And really, what is this? Torture Danny day?
The image on the screen doesn’t help much. It’s a blurry mess of lighter and darker grey smudges and in the middle something is sort of pulsating.
“A small abdominal aortic aneurism?” One of the doctors suggests. “Should we ask a vascular specialist to have a look?”
Aneurism? Not good. So not good. And if they keep this up he won’t have to worry about cancer, he’s going to die from a heart attack.
Kale shakes his head though. “It’s moving too fast for that. Mr. Williams’s heart rate is around 110.
So he’s a little nervous.
Kale continues. “This is moving or pulsating around 170 times per minute.”
“Mr. Williams,” the oncologist suddenly asks. “Have you been abroad recently?”
Danny clears his throat. “Define recent”
“Lets say the in the last two years.”
“Does Korea count?”
The man raises a meaningful eyebrow at his colleague at that.
“You think it’s some sort of encapsulated parasite?” the other man says, “Really?”
Danny wishes they’d sound less fascinated. Although a parasite has to be better than cancer.
The oncologist shrugs. “I’ve never seen anything like it, but it’s not exactly my area of expertise. Is Martin in? He’s spent a lot of time abroad. Maybe he’ll recognise it.”
Another call is made and there’s an awkward silence while they wait. Awkward for Danny at least, as he lies there and the doctors stare at the screen like it’s the best movie they’ve seen in ages.
“So it’s a parasite?” He prods. “That’s good right? You can do something about that. Remove it?”
“Honestly Mr. Williams,” the gastroenterologist answers, “we have no idea. If our colleague doesn’t recognise it we’ll probably need to do a biopsy.”
An older man walks in. His hair is grey, almost white and his skin is dark and leathery. He walks straight up to Danny and holds out his hand. “Martin Davis,” he says.
“Danny Williams.”
“I hear you’ve got something interesting going on inside?”
Danny smiles wryly. “Apparently.”
“Well, let’s have a look then.” He holds out his hand to Kale, who surrenders the transducer without complaint and moves out of the way. Apparently doctor Davis is a ‘hands on’ kind of guy.
There’s silence for another while as this new guy studies the screen intently.
“Well,” one of the others asks. “Do you recognise it? Is it a parasite?”
Davis studies the screen for another long minute before speaking. “This doesn’t look like any parasite I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen many.” He picks up Danny’s chart and scans the contents before looking back at the screen again.
Then he scratches his chin and looks at the little group of doctors. “I think that we might be…overlooking the obvious”
“What do you mean the obvious?”
“Well, considering the nature of the complaints, the amount of time over which the symptoms presented themselves, the size and the heart rate and the shape of the uh…parasite.”
For a moment the other doctors look stumped. Then doctor Hannah shakes her head. “Have you lost your mind?”
The oncologist gives Hannah a distasteful look and goes back to studying the screen. Slowly amazement starts to show on his face. “Fucking hell”, he mumbles. Then he turns to the older doctor again with a gleam in his eye. “Really? You think so? How would that even work?”
“I have no idea. There are no typical signs of intersex or ovotestis, maybe some form of vestigial twinning?”
“Vestigial twinning? Really?”
Davis shrugs. “I’ve seen full size limbs growing from someone’s belly. I’ve removed a cyst from someone’s abdominal cavity that had adult-sized teeth inside it and hair that was 40 inches long. Somehow the idea of some sort of ovarian structure in a place where it shouldn’t be doesn’t seem entirely impossible after that.”
“Still though,” the oncologist says, “even if there were something of the kind, how did it start developing? There had to have been fecundation.”
Danny opens his mouth to demand what the hell they’re talking about, because hey, he’s right there damn it and it’s his health they’re talking about. His possible early demise- but Davis interrupts.
“Mr. Williams, have you had unprotected, penetrative intercourse lately? On the...receiving end?”
Danny blinks at the question. It takes a few seconds for his brain to translate the cold clinical terms to what he and Steve do together. But then it clicks. “Yes,” he mumbles, feeling a flush creep up his face. And so help him, if Steve gave him some kind of weird STD he’s going to kill him. Kill him dead.
Davis grins. “Well, Mark, there’s your fecundation.”
“My god,” Hannah says, “I can’t believe you’re seriously considering this. You’ve lost your collective minds. I have patients. Good luck with this-” She gestures towards Danny and walks out.
Mark, the oncologist, rolls his eyes. “Bitch.” Then his eyes dart to Danny and he flushes red. “Excuse me, sir, that wasn’t professional of me-”
Danny’s had enough though. “I don’t give a crap what you call her, but one of you bunch needs to tell me what the hell is going on with me, right now, before I sue you for inflicting emotional damage or something. Believe me, I could use the money.”
“Well, Mr. Williams," Davis says, "we don’t know how this happened. Or what underlying pathology made it possible, but as of right now, there appears to be some sort of sac in your abdominal cavity, and that sac is currently housing a foetus. A live foetus.”
Series: Sympathetic
Fic: Unsympathetic
Rating: overall NC17
Warnings: mpreg, don't like, don't read.
Summary: Danny has a stomach bug and takes a trip to the doctor.
Danny grips the white porcelain toilet bowl tightly as another wave of nausea hits him. The scent of his own vomit wafting from the pot sends him over the edge and he throws up. Again. Well he tries to at least. There’s practically nothing left. It’s more dry heaving by now.
Less messy, equally uncomfortable.
Three weeks this has been going on now. Mostly in the mornings, but it’s happened a couple of times at night too, and there was one very badly timed incident at a crime scene.
With shaking hands he reaches up to flush the toilet and then he pushes himself up slowly, walking over to the sink, careful not to move too fast lest the nausea makes another comeback.
Steve is standing in the doorway, arms crossed. “Don’t bother getting ready for work Danno, you’re not coming in until you’ve been to the doctor.” Danny can tell his partner is trying to look strict, but really the man has no control over his face and he just looks worried.
Danny nods, taking a mouthful of water and swishing it through his mouth. Mouth wash would be more effective to get rid of the taste of vomit, but for some reason he can’t stand the scent of it anymore. It makes him puke, and he’s had enough of that recently, thank you.
After he spits he turns back to Steve. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I’m going. Maybe it’s time for a course of antibiotics or something.”
Steve nods, but he’s still looking troubled.
Danny rolls his eyes at him. “Babe, would you stop it with the aneurism face already? Other than a little puking I’m fine. It’s just a stomach bug. I’ll go to the doctor, get some magic pills and I’ll be right as rain. You could help you know. Stress weakens the immune system, maybe if you tried to set off a little less explosions, followed police procedure a little more often…my poor beleaguered immune system could fight off this bug without medical assistance.”
Steve snorts, dropping the hated face. “Beleaguered? Really Danno?” he says and then he checks his watch. “I’ve got to go.”
He nods and waits until he hears Steve jogging down the stairs before pulling up his shirt and staring at himself in the mirror. His belly is rounder than it should be. Nothing really noticeable to anyone else, but he knows his own body, and while he’s never been SEAL-fit, his body was nicely toned before. If he didn’t know any better he might have put it down to a few too many longboards and malasadas, but seeing as how neither of those vices has appealed to him in the last few weeks, he knows that’s not it.
He hates to admit it even to himself, but his ‘symptoms’, they’re pretty much exactly like what he experienced during Rachel’s pregnancy. Except for the nipple thing, thank god.
He groans and drops his shirt. It’s probably going to be the most mortifying conversation he’s ever had with a doctor, but he’s going to have to ask if it’s possible that the Couvade came back for some reason.
-------------------------------------------
“Alright Mr. Williams, how can I help you?”
The matronly family doctor looks at him expectantly. She has kind eyes and he’s suddenly glad he won’t have to tell his story to a male physician. It may be a cliché, but he really does think women are more understanding about this sort of thing. Or at least less likely to laugh in his face.
He decides to start with the facts. “I’ve been throwing up in the mornings for about three weeks. Certain smells make me nauseous, and I’ve noticed some uh…swelling.” He pats his belly in illustration.
She nods and takes some notes. “Swelling… You mean you’ve gained weight?”
He shakes his head. “No. Well, yeah…but it’s not normal weight gain. I know what it looks like when I gain a few pounds, and this is… different.”
“Different in what sense?”
“It seems more uh…localised to one area now.”
“Well, weight gain in men is often concentrated around the stomach or belly area, but if you take of your shirt and lie down on the examination table I’ll just have a quick look.”
Once he’s on the table she palpates his belly, lightly and then more deeply, asking him if it’s painful several times. It doesn’t hurt really, but it is sort of sensitive and he tells her as much.
“Well,” she says, “it doesn’t feel like subcutaneous fat. Visceral fat is a possibility. That’s fat located around your internal organs,” she explains, “it’s responsible for the ‘pot belly’ look. Considering your weight, fat percentage and overall health though…it doesn’t seem likely. Also there is some guarding. That’s muscle contraction when pressure is applied. There’s certainly some form of bloating, either from gas or from water retention.”
She places a stethoscope on his belly and listens for a minute. “Bowel sounds seem normal. No indication of an obstruction.” She taps his belly repeatedly, listening intently, but then she puts the stethoscope to the side. “You may put your shirt back on.”
When he’s buttoning up his shirt he decides to bite the bullet. “Doctor?”
“Yes?”
“A couple of years ago, during my ex-wife’s pregnancy I experienced symptoms of Couvade syndrome.”
“Ah. Is your current partner pregnant?”
He snorts and shakes his head.
“A family member or close friend?”
“No.”
She looks at him strangely and he feels his face getting hot. “Do you have any acquaintances that are pregnant at this time Mr. Williams?”
He shakes his head. “No. Look I know it’s ridiculous, okay? I mean how can you have a sympathetic pregnancy when there’s no one to be sympathetic with? But it’s just- the symptoms are a lot alike. With the nausea in the morning and the weight gain…” he trails off.
When he looks up at her there’s a twinkle in her eyes and he’s sure she wants to laugh, and professionalism is the only thing holding her back.
“Mr. Williams-”
“Danny”
“Well, Danny, I can honestly say I have never in my career heard about a man having Couvade syndrome when he wasn’t in very regular contact with a pregnant woman. So I’m very confident when I say that’s not the case here.”
She smiles kindly and continues. “All the same, because of the slight abdominal swelling, I’m going to send you in for an ultrasound to check for ascites. Ascites is a build-up of fluid in the abdominal cavity. If that were the case there are various possible reasons for it and a specialist would need to do further testing.”
There must be some concern showing on his face because she grins at him and continues. “Personally, I really don’t think you have anything to worry about. I’m fairly sure you simply have a case of a persistent stomach bug. But ascites can cause both nausea and vomiting, and abdominal swelling, and the sounds I heard during the percussion-the tapping I did on your belly? They weren’t entirely clear, so to be absolutely certain I’d like to have it checked. When the ultrasound shows that everything is normal we’ll start you on a broad-spectrum antibiotic and see how it goes from there. Alright?”
She prints him a referral and her assistant makes him an appointment for the ultrasound.
---------------------------------------
The next day he’s at Kuakini hospital, once again lying on an examination table. He hadn’t been allowed to eat twelve hours beforehand and then they asked him to drink two glasses of water and made him wait for another hour. Something about the bladder being full so they can get clearer images.
It’s left him hungry and with the pressing urge to take a leak. Not comfortable. And he just wants to get this over with so they can send the results to his doctor already and he can get started on the damn antibiotics.
He’s only wearing his boxers and one of those damn hospital gowns that they insisted he put on. He’s not sure why, since the guy operating the sonograph asked him to pull it up practically to his neck anyway, but that’s hospital logic. Like the damn wheelchair to take you outside when there’s nothing wrong with your legs or your balance.
Sonograph guy squirts a small mountain of icy gel on Danny’s belly with an apologetic smile. “Sorry man, I know it’s cold, but it’ll warm up soon and we’ll be done before you know it.”
The guy starts moving the transducer thingy methodically across Danny’s stomach, slowly working his way down. If Danny cranes his neck he can watch the screen that’s currently exposing his insides, but his neck starts to ache after a while so instead he just looks at sonograph guy. His name is Kale Kealoha, according to his nametag.
Kale looks concentrated, yet bored. Which is a good thing. Means there’s nothing out of the ordinary to see, and Danny’s all for being unremarkable in this case.
It’s because he’s watching Kale’s face so intently that he notices when the man’s expression changes from bored to carefully neutral.
The transducer has been at the same spot for some time now. Kale pressing harder, and softer, changing the angle, changing settings on the machine….
Finally he lays the transducer down on Danny’s belly and reaches for the phone.
“What?” Danny asks. “What is it? Is it that ascites thing?”
“The structures in this area are a little unclear, Mr. Williams, I’m just going to ask a doctor to be a second set of eyes.”
The guy is lying through his teeth and it sets Danny’s nerves on edge. His heart starts beating a little faster.
Kale picks up the phone again, presses a number, and says calmly “Doctor, I’d like your opinion on something if you don’t mind.”
The response he gets is obviously negative, because the man rolls his eyes. “Yes doctor, I understand. However I really do think your expertise would be welcome here.”
Danny’s heartbeat spikes further and the guy looks at him and pats his arm. “No need to jump to any conclusions Mr. Williams. There’s just something I want to consult the doctor on.” He picks up the transducer again and zeroes in on the same space he was looking at before.
Only then does Danny notice he’s pretty much stopped breathing. He lets out a slow controlled breath and concentrates on keeping his breathing deep and even while he waits for the doctor to arrive.
A short blonde woman storms in with an annoyed look on her face that turns to fascination when she looks at the screen.
After a while she states “Well, there’s obviously a periumbilical mass, right there.”
“A mass?” Danny asks, mouth suddenly dry, because that really doesn’t sound like something that’s supposed to be in there.
“Yes, a tumor of some form.”
Holy shit. Danny swallows thickly. “I have cancer?”
And even though he’s still lying on the freaking table Danny’s feeling like he stood up too fast. Black dots float in his vision and he blinks frantically until they recede.
“Well no, not necessarily.” The doctor says, “A cancer is by definition malignant. A tumor may be benign.” She picks up his chart and studies it for a moment. “But with the sudden onset of the symptoms and the apparent rapid growth, cancer does seem like a likely scenario at this point, yes.”
Kale sends the doctor a withering look behind her back and squeezes his arm. “Many forms of cancer are very treatable, Mr. Williams. You’re young and otherwise healthy. There are a lot of treatment options available nowadays.”
He latches on to those words. Cancer isn’t an automatic death sentence these days. He’s going to live. He’s going to fight this cancer--tumor-- whatever it is, and he’s going to live, because he’s happy damn it. The last year and a half, with Steve, he’s been fucking happy. And he’s not going to let some disease take it all away from him now.
The doctor interrupts his thoughts. “Well, with the way it seems to have already invaded the abdominal cavity, I’m thinking this is a fairly aggressive form-”
Fucking hell. Aren’t doctors supposed to wait until the examination is over? Sit you down in a nicely padded chair…pat your hand and then tell you ‘I’m afraid I have some bad news…’? Because lying half naked on a fucking ultrasound table with cold gel on his belly, dripping unmentionable places…it’s not exactly helping him take this calmly. And suddenly he whishes he hadn’t laughed at Steve when he suggested coming with him to the hospital.
“Doctor, I don’t think-” Kale starts.
The doctor, Doctor Hannah, Carmen Hannah, according to her nametag, raises an eyebrow at the guy and he falls silent before muttering. “Perhaps you could page a colleague who specialises in these types of…growths?
There’s a moment of tense silence before she simply turns around and walks out of the room.
Kale sighs. “Mr. Williams?”
“Danny”, he tells the man. Because he’s lying there half naked and somehow it feels more comfortable to be called by his first name in this situation.
“Danny. Have you ever watched that TV series about Dr. House?”
“Yeah.” He’d thought it was pretty interesting actually; the guy is sort of like a detective. Taking all the clues and deducing the most likely suspect.
“Well, doctor Hannah… she has his bedside manner…but lacks his amazing diagnostic skills.”
Danny snorts at that, despite feeling like his heart is in his throat.
“But we do have some very good doctors here,” Kale continues, “and I’m sure some of them will be here in a couple of minutes, and I think you should wait and see what they have to say okay? You’re in good hands here.”
It doesn’t take long before the doctor is back with two other doctors, who introduce themselves as a gastroenterologist and an oncologist specialised in colon cancer. “It’s really quite remarkable,” doctor Hannah babbles as they stare at the screen while Kale gently moves the transducer over Danny’s belly.
They talk about him like he’s not there, throwing around medical terms like they really are on an episode of House and Danny tries to keep his breathing under control. Screw justifiably concerned, he’s just plain fucking scared by now, and Kale seems to be the only one who notices. “Is there someone we can call for you?” he asks.
“Steve” Danny mutters, “he’s my emergency contact. Can you ask him to come?” Because yeah, he’d been embarrassed to talk about his complaints with Steve because he thought the Couvade syndrome had somehow made a mysterious comeback, but this is so much more serious and he wants him there. Preferably now.
Kale takes the phone, presses a number, and asks whoever is on the other side, nurse’s office probably, to get in contact with Danny Williams emergency contact. He stresses it’s not an immediate emergency, more of a case of bad news, but Danny feels guilty anyway, because he knows Steve is going to freak out when he gets a call from the hospital. He considers telling them not to call, but then again, if Steve were in his place, Danny would want to know and he’d tear Steve a new one for not calling him. Which is exactly what Steve would do, because he’s a Neanderthal animal who still sometimes thinks he has to cope with everything by himself. Danny is slowly but steadily curing him of that notion.
Kale is playing with the transducer thing again and then he just sort of…gasps.
“What?!” Danny asks, craning his head to look at the screen.
Kale shakes his head. Not in a ‘I don’t want to tell you way’ but more of a ‘I don’t know what the hell that is kind of way.”
And really, what is this? Torture Danny day?
The image on the screen doesn’t help much. It’s a blurry mess of lighter and darker grey smudges and in the middle something is sort of pulsating.
“A small abdominal aortic aneurism?” One of the doctors suggests. “Should we ask a vascular specialist to have a look?”
Aneurism? Not good. So not good. And if they keep this up he won’t have to worry about cancer, he’s going to die from a heart attack.
Kale shakes his head though. “It’s moving too fast for that. Mr. Williams’s heart rate is around 110.
So he’s a little nervous.
Kale continues. “This is moving or pulsating around 170 times per minute.”
“Mr. Williams,” the oncologist suddenly asks. “Have you been abroad recently?”
Danny clears his throat. “Define recent”
“Lets say the in the last two years.”
“Does Korea count?”
The man raises a meaningful eyebrow at his colleague at that.
“You think it’s some sort of encapsulated parasite?” the other man says, “Really?”
Danny wishes they’d sound less fascinated. Although a parasite has to be better than cancer.
The oncologist shrugs. “I’ve never seen anything like it, but it’s not exactly my area of expertise. Is Martin in? He’s spent a lot of time abroad. Maybe he’ll recognise it.”
Another call is made and there’s an awkward silence while they wait. Awkward for Danny at least, as he lies there and the doctors stare at the screen like it’s the best movie they’ve seen in ages.
“So it’s a parasite?” He prods. “That’s good right? You can do something about that. Remove it?”
“Honestly Mr. Williams,” the gastroenterologist answers, “we have no idea. If our colleague doesn’t recognise it we’ll probably need to do a biopsy.”
An older man walks in. His hair is grey, almost white and his skin is dark and leathery. He walks straight up to Danny and holds out his hand. “Martin Davis,” he says.
“Danny Williams.”
“I hear you’ve got something interesting going on inside?”
Danny smiles wryly. “Apparently.”
“Well, let’s have a look then.” He holds out his hand to Kale, who surrenders the transducer without complaint and moves out of the way. Apparently doctor Davis is a ‘hands on’ kind of guy.
There’s silence for another while as this new guy studies the screen intently.
“Well,” one of the others asks. “Do you recognise it? Is it a parasite?”
Davis studies the screen for another long minute before speaking. “This doesn’t look like any parasite I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen many.” He picks up Danny’s chart and scans the contents before looking back at the screen again.
Then he scratches his chin and looks at the little group of doctors. “I think that we might be…overlooking the obvious”
“What do you mean the obvious?”
“Well, considering the nature of the complaints, the amount of time over which the symptoms presented themselves, the size and the heart rate and the shape of the uh…parasite.”
For a moment the other doctors look stumped. Then doctor Hannah shakes her head. “Have you lost your mind?”
The oncologist gives Hannah a distasteful look and goes back to studying the screen. Slowly amazement starts to show on his face. “Fucking hell”, he mumbles. Then he turns to the older doctor again with a gleam in his eye. “Really? You think so? How would that even work?”
“I have no idea. There are no typical signs of intersex or ovotestis, maybe some form of vestigial twinning?”
“Vestigial twinning? Really?”
Davis shrugs. “I’ve seen full size limbs growing from someone’s belly. I’ve removed a cyst from someone’s abdominal cavity that had adult-sized teeth inside it and hair that was 40 inches long. Somehow the idea of some sort of ovarian structure in a place where it shouldn’t be doesn’t seem entirely impossible after that.”
“Still though,” the oncologist says, “even if there were something of the kind, how did it start developing? There had to have been fecundation.”
Danny opens his mouth to demand what the hell they’re talking about, because hey, he’s right there damn it and it’s his health they’re talking about. His possible early demise- but Davis interrupts.
“Mr. Williams, have you had unprotected, penetrative intercourse lately? On the...receiving end?”
Danny blinks at the question. It takes a few seconds for his brain to translate the cold clinical terms to what he and Steve do together. But then it clicks. “Yes,” he mumbles, feeling a flush creep up his face. And so help him, if Steve gave him some kind of weird STD he’s going to kill him. Kill him dead.
Davis grins. “Well, Mark, there’s your fecundation.”
“My god,” Hannah says, “I can’t believe you’re seriously considering this. You’ve lost your collective minds. I have patients. Good luck with this-” She gestures towards Danny and walks out.
Mark, the oncologist, rolls his eyes. “Bitch.” Then his eyes dart to Danny and he flushes red. “Excuse me, sir, that wasn’t professional of me-”
Danny’s had enough though. “I don’t give a crap what you call her, but one of you bunch needs to tell me what the hell is going on with me, right now, before I sue you for inflicting emotional damage or something. Believe me, I could use the money.”
“Well, Mr. Williams," Davis says, "we don’t know how this happened. Or what underlying pathology made it possible, but as of right now, there appears to be some sort of sac in your abdominal cavity, and that sac is currently housing a foetus. A live foetus.”