And to a veteran…
And for one horrifying moment, Lance thought Tanner might actually be mad. But then, Tanner’s next text came through. A hilarious gif of a pirate with a wooden leg walking across a ship’s deck.
Tanner Casey
Not sure I could pull off the pirate wig and hat, tbh.
Lance Kingsley
Fair point. We’ll workshop it over beers.
Still planning to come over after work on Friday?
He felt like a needy teenager making sure people were coming to his birthday party. Truly pathetic he thought, as he anxiously awaited Tanner’s reply. Practically holding his breathlike some kind of lovesick teenager. Jesus, Lance needed to get laid. He was apparently desperate for attention.
Tanner Casey
Yeah. I wonder if I can hold out until Friday.
My sister is seriously driving me to drink right now…
Lance Kingsley
I think drinking is way better than psycho killing.
Let me know anytime you need an alibi.
Or a drinking buddy.
Tanner Casey
Will do.
As Lance placed the phone back on his desk, he tried to re-focus on work, a peculiar flutter of excitement coursing through him. The same sensation he’d felt the other night when Tanner had come over for dinner. The unfamiliarity of it gave him pause. After all, how sheltered had his life become that the excitement of having beers with a friend was suddenly startling?
He couldn’t help thinking of Julie as he mulled that over. She’d often commented on his lack of hobbies and social life. She’d even called him boring on several occasions, and Lance had never bothered to deny it. Hell, he’d sort of agreed. Lance Kingsley, accountant extraordinaire. Living for his 9:00 to 5:00 job. Placing comfort and financial security above all else. A boring, plain guy, living a boring, simple life, and never striving for anything beyond that. But that wasn’t the full story. It wasn’t that Lance didn’t like excitement—it was simply that he’d spent his entire childhood aiming forthis.This exact balance and stability. This sense of normalcy. The point at which life just cruises along without drama and pain. He didn’t crave chaos and turmoil because he’d grown up drowning in it. So yeah, Lance liked his 9:00 to 5:00 job. He loved his house in the suburbs,and now he was more than ready to add some fun stuff to his life. Like hanging out with friends and family, having cookouts, working on his house, and exploring local home improvement stores. Today, for the first time in a long time, he got excited thinking about all those great possibilities. Like spending time with someone he really wanted to get to know and, more importantly, someone who did not think he was boring. Setting those thoughts aside for now, he re-focused on his work while enjoying the buzz of excitement running through his veins. Occasionally, just for fun, he stopped to count down the hours until his evening with Tanner. It was somewhat cringe-worthy, and kind of silly, like something a child might do. Something—something he might have learned to do as child, if he hadn’t grown up in a house on fire.
*****
Dr. Williston was nice enough, but Tanner didn’t trust her any farther than he could pick her up and throw her. And, let’s face it, with only one good arm, that wasn’t very damned far. Truthfully, he didn’t trust any doctor. Ever. He never doubted their good intentions—he just knew that their agendas were not always his agendas. It was rude and ungrateful, considering that a team of devoted medical professionals had practically glued him back together after the crash but—he’d been unable to overcome his instinctive distrust of her, even before she’d begun to speak.
“Your primary care physician is quite concerned about the imminent onset and advancement of arthritis,” she explained with a kind smile as she examined his most recent X-rays. Tanner didn’t need to be a doctor to see that his left leg was basically a jumbled mess of screws, pins, and rods.
“Isn’t he kind of young to develop arthritis?” Cameron asked. She insisted on attending all of his medical appointments, despite his repeated protests. But he knew it was just because she needed assurance that he was receiving the best of care, so he really couldn’t bring himself to kick her out of the room.
“Arthritis develops because of wear and tear on the joints over time and in certain situations when the joints are overused. Essentially, the cartilage between the bones deteriorates, causing pain and inflammation. Because of the severity of his injuries, there’s a much greater risk of early onset arthritis. His ankle, his knee—there was so much damage there that, over time, we’re looking at a probable calcification, and a dramatic decrease in mobility, not to mention the ongoing need for pain management.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, he restrained his growl. “I’m not going to lose my leg,” he said through gritted teeth.
Dr. Williston looked both surprised and concerned. “Hold on, Mr. Casey, that’s not where this discussion is going. Arthritis will eventually develop, but there are several procedures available to slow down the process of calcification and hopefully preserve the integrity and longevity of your joint cartilage as much as possible.”
She pushed two copies of a detailed pamphlet on the topic across her desk towards them.
“What kinds of procedures?” Cameron asked, leaning forward in her chair to grab one.
“Injections, for one. Many of my patients have benefitted from routine steroid injections. Supplements can be used as well. It would be trial and error, as each patient reacts differently to each type of treatment. However, glucosamine has been known to promote cartilage health.”
Tanner was staring blindly at the pamphlet. His heart rate shot up as a trickle of sweat worked its way down the sideof his face. He felt as if he was looking off into an abyss as the reality of the inevitable worsening of his condition sank in. He felt so goddamned helpless to stop any of it. What the hell kind of future did he have to look forward to? Where was the quality of life he so desperately wanted and hoped for?
