Carter has always been bendy. It's just been known as one of his quirks -- his party trick, if you will. He stands weird, sits weird, crosses his legs weird, and don't even get him started on his hands. Those long, thin fingers can bend almost all the way back. He can touch his thumb nearly flat to his wrist. Can practically fold his hand in ways that no one else can. At County, it's an endless source of amusement for Jerry and Doug but everyone else -- even Mark -- is grossed out by it.
He's bendy. And he's sleepy.
He can handle it. Being a med-student at a busy, inner-city ER then an intern at the same hospital means he gets less rest than he's used to, but Carter is used to the fatigue. He doesn't like it but he's used to it. Walking up in a bathroom stall? Not even the most bizarre place he's fallen asleep in the last month.
He's bendy. And he's sleepy. And he's achy.
Naproxen is his best friend. The aches and pains that shoot through his body are never the same and never stay in one place. Sometimes, his whole body hurts. Sometimes it's just his joints on the left side. No matter what, he pushes through the pain and gets his work done and never lets on, ever, that he feels much older than he actually is.
He's bendy. And he's sleepy. And he's achy. And he's got gastro issues. And urinary issues.
Jerry has started joking that the reason the toilet is nicknamed "The John" is because Carter spends so much time on it. If he's not puking up everything he ate, he's sitting on it with the cold sweats and a cramping abdomen that would bring a hundred patients into the ER if they weren't used to this like he is. It's certainly better than the days he has trouble peeing. The greatest skill he's learned was how to cath himself.
He's bendy. And he's sleepy. And he's achy. And he's got gastro issues. And urinary issues. And he can't regulate his temperature at all.
This one should probably be the joke instead of Jerry constantly bringing up and focusing on his bathrooming issues. It's not. And he is partly grateful because the women of County have taken pity on poor skin-and-bones Carter who is always freezing in the winter. He's been wrapped up in Haleh's extra sweaters, Chuny's car blanket, and has had both Carol and Susan shoving warmed saline bags under his scrubs on more than one occasion. More than a dozen occasions... At least twice a week per winter. In the summer, he gets overheated. Even when the AC is working at its best and everyone else is comfortable, he's sweating and lightheaded and needing to sit down before he passes out. On a memorable day that the AC stopped working mid-shift, Carter went from freezing to overheated to freezing again when it kicked back on. He's learned to dress in layers.
So, he's bendy. And he's sleepy. And he's achy. And he's got gastro issues. And urinary issues. And he can't regulate his temperature at all. It's just John Carter and it's normal for him.
Until he takes another spill one Spring morning that hurts like a bitch and Kerry insists on an X-ray and oof, that's a lot of remodeling. They're concerned, and rightly so, but he explains that sometimes it just happens. He falls the right way and something dislocates or breaks, but he's lucky in that usually his bizarre bendiness seems to save him. Being able to move your body in ways others can't does have it's upsides, even if it's also contributed to more injuries than the average person. He's clumsy. That's just how it goes.
At Kerry's confused look, he demonstrates: Turning to face away from her, Carter brings both of his hands behind his back and presses his palms together like he's praying. "See?" he says. "I shoulda been a contortionist!" One of his favorite party tricks is interrupted by the crutch from his fractured tibia he's leaning on falling and clattering to the ground. Carter hops for a second, trying to regain his balance, and falls over, landing on his butt. When no pain other than his ego is noticed, both arms fly into the air into a victory V. "And he sticks the landing!"
Which is funny. It is! So why does Kerry look so concerned?
Hours later, Dr. Benton pulls him into the staff lounge, his face half in a diagnostic textbook and his mouth running through a (frankly) ridiculous amount of questions. He comes to the same conclusions Carter has: He's bendy. And he's sleepy. And he's achy. And he's got gastro issues. And urinary issues. And he can't regulate his temperature at all.
Dr. Benton is telling him all about these tests he wants to run and Carter is listening, he is, but why the fuss? He's been like this his entire life. Both of his parents didn't seem too concerned -- but they really never seem too concerned with anything regarding their youngest child unless it will somehow reflect back on them in a negative light.
Okay. Fine. He'll do it if it means Dr. Benton will shut up and he and Kerry will stop looking at Carter like he's fragile or whatever.
Which is how, several days later, Carter gets a god's honest, truly real, actual diagnosis.
He's bendy. And he's sleepy. And he's achy. And he's got gastro issues. And urinary issues. And he can't regulate his temperature at all. And he has Hypermobile Ehlers Danlos Syndrome.
