Khol was infinitely more nervous about this doctors appointment than he had been the last. Sure this one was easy, no blood test or obnoxious x-rays. This one was only scary because he was alone, and he was hopefullydeargodsabove getting diagnosed with something.
Though his nerves were at an all-time high, he outwardly remained cool and collected as he hobbled to his doctor's office. Bam had to work or else he would be stuck in a wheelchair regretting ever asking Bam to come with him.
Besides, the elderly people in this particular offices waiting room didn't get Bam or people like them. Bright colors, boobs but a deep voice, short curly pink hair that fell around their face framing it like a halo made of cotton candy.
Yeah, people didn't understand Bam's charm. They didn't get Bam like Khol did.
By the time Khol is sitting in the waiting room, he's sweating up a storm. You'd think they'd keep the hospital cool during the summer but knowing this office they probably have the heat cranked for all the old people.
Khol is bitterly avoiding looking at anyone when his name gets called. He walks in, trying his best to keep his legs steady, gets weighed and all his vitals taken and is finally left alone in the room where he feels like his fate will finally be met.
He can feel it too, a heavy shadow looming over him. Whispering in his ears things he doesn't want to hear. He knows it'll be bad. He knows he'll be told to sit in a wheelchair for the rest of forever, he knows his life is going to change.
Dr. Adams, a sturdy-looking man with salt and pepper hair knocks on the door and Khol leans his head up offering him a greeting. Dr. Adams sits on the round stool and begins typing away at the computer in front of him.
Khol watches him in barely contained rage. He knows that if he flips out it'll only make things worse for him but Gods above talk!
Its a few more moments of just the sound of keyboard clicks between them before Dr. Adams turns to him. "Most of the tests came back negative."
"Negative?" Khol asks in horror. No there has to be something wrong with him.
Dr. Adams nods, "That doesn't mean there's nothing there. What it does mean though is that it's more neurological than physical."
Khol wants to scream, he doesn't understand what the doctor is saying and he's not taking too kindly to what he does understand. "It's all in my head?"
"Yes and no. You see chronic pain is a very misunderstood..." Khol zones out at that point wondering what Bam would say if they were here with him. Wondering if they'd hold Khols hand, squeezing life back into it.
Khol walks out of the doctor's office with a diagnosis of...nothing. Chronic pain he guesses, but aside from Dr. Adams referring him a wheelchair and some low-grade pain medicine he leaves with nothing.
Nothing is scary to Khol, because nothing could mean everything.
-
When Bam gets home Khol is flipping through the tv, his usual route: Netflix, Hulu, and Prime, only to find that he's watched everything. Then he usually ends up on YouTube surfing through the droves of bullcrap there is there.
Bam nervously takes off their backpack and sets it by the door. "We can talk after I shower." Khol just grunts pointing the remote towards the TV once again and not giving Bam a second look.
They make quick work of their shower and come to sit next to Khol after. Khol must have the AC turned way up because Bam shivers and wants to snuggle into Khol for warmth. They don't though.
Bam waits and waits for Khol to talk to them before the waiting drives them crazy and they finally snap. "What happened?" They say sounding exasperated for Bam.
Khol sighs, "It's nothing."
"Nothing?" Bam asks, "It can't be nothing."
The silence continues to drag on leaving Bam to worry about Khol's mental health.
Khol is lost in his own head, the looming nothingness aches like his bones do. 'Or do they' he thinks wondering if he's made this all up in his mind. He doesn't remember when it started but he wonders if it came in a dream.
Bam finds the after visit papers lying on the table crumpled into a ball. They grab them and stretch them out to shape again in the hopes of reading what had happened. Under the spot where it lists diagnosis, there is the one Khol has had since before, Hashimoto's Thyroid, alongside a new one: Chronic Pain NOS.
"That's something." Bam points out trying to cheer their friend up.
Khol looks at them and cocks his head, "Is it though?"
"It's at least a diagnosis. A label. Something to work off of." Khol grunts again and turns his attention back to the TV. "I believe you Khol," Bam mumbles watching has Khol's face softens. "I believe your pain."
The remote is thrown onto the sofa and Bam is wrapped up in two strong arms.
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