the first meeting | finding hope au
pairing: caretaker!matt x chronically ill!reader
summary: Matt moves into readers apartment, they talk about everything going on and form a little plan together.
trigger warnings: mentions of illnesses, disabilities and mental illnesses, talk about symptoms such as tremors, nausea, vomiting, migraines, mentions of dislocations, mentions of doctors appointments, physical therapy and gastrointestinal doctors, talk of ketamine therapy, talk of suicidal ideation, mentions of medications, family not being supportive in the way reader needs, feeling abandoned, mentions of anxiety, depression and ocd, talk of meals and meal planning, talk of eating.
No one ever wants to be sick. No one. Especially you. You had big dreams, till it all came crashing down when you turned 18. You don't know what happened, as a kid you got sick a lot but your parents said it was nothing. Claiming it to be anxiety and depression and just being lazy. So you ignored it, ignored every ache and pain and sickness you felt because it wasn't deemed important. But then you moved out at 18 to go to college and things got bad, the sickness, whatever it was came creeping back in, it was tired of lying dormant in your body. It came in full swing, dislocations, migraines, constant vomiting.
You had to move back home. It felt like a failure. Having to move back home and quit school, all dreams you had now gone, taken away from you by a mysterious illness. Living with your parents only made it worse. It wasn't that they didn't believe you, it was more like they couldn't handle it. So, they moved you out, moved you into your own apartment. It hurt, being pushed out, sent away, so they didn't have to watch you struggle. It was confusing, how they continued to pay for everything but couldn't see you, didn't ask questions about your health. But what they did ask was when you would get a job, when you would go back to school, when you would do something with your life. It hurt but you understood, it was their way of asking when you would get better, if you were getting better. It may have been a sick and twisted way but it was their way of caring.
Moving out helped for a little, till things got worse again, you couldn't handle the nights alone laying on the bathroom floor after throwing up so much. You couldn't keep on the work out schedule your physical therapist had you one and keeping track of medications was even harder. You didn't want to ask for help, but your parents saw it, heard it in your voice, and they cared in their own way, so they hired a caretaker for you. Which... might've been the nicest thing they had ever done. You didn't want to agree but you didn't feel you had much choice, with the way you were going you were scared you were just going to wither away in your apartment alone.
Matt showed up at 8am, Monday morning. He had his suitcases and work equipment. He stood outside the apartment door stone faced and emotionless. He knocked on the door. You heard the door, sighing softly, there were a million reasons you didn't want him here but none that you could say. You got up, pulling yourself out of your comfortable warm bed with baby pink sheets. You stood on unstable legs, knee braces keeping your legs from hyper extending. You made your way to the front door, opening it. Your eyes squinted from the bright light outside, realizing just how dark the apartment was. You never opened any windows.
"Good morning, Matthew, but you can call me Matt," Matt stuck out his hand. You had one hand against the door, leaning on it to keep yourself from falling. Standing was hard, you couldn't stand for long periods of time because of your legs. You shakily shook his hand. He noticed the tremor in your hand and he couldn't figure out if it was anxiety or a symptom of your disability. He knew the bare minimum, from what your parents had told him but he had started to realize that your parents didn't know the extent of what you were going through. The way they tried to explain, fumbling over symptoms and saying they weren't even sure how they could help, but he was going to try his best to help.
"Come in, I'll show you to your room," you said softly, letting go of his hand. You turned, leading him inside. He brought his bags in, shutting the front door and the room was engulfed in darkness. "Sorry," you mumbled, flipping on the hallway light, rubbing your eyes, trying to adjust to the lights. You hated bright lights, they tended to make your head hurt. "All good, do you have any lamps?" Matt asked as he walked down the hallway with you. You shook your head, opening the door to his room. "Lamps may be a good idea, not as strong of a light," Matt said as he walked into the room.
He set his backpack on the bed, leaving his two suitcases by the end of the bed. "Make yourself at home, this is now your room.. for however long.." you said softly, leaning against the door frame. Matt noticed, the way you struggled to stand up straight, he noticed the slight shake in your legs, how you tended to move from standing on each leg, like you can't get comfortable. "Thank you, I'll unpack then we can talk about what you need from me," Matt said, he almost flashed a smile, almost but from the way you looked, you didn't seem interested in a smile from him. You didn't seem interested at all. You gave him a nod before walking back to your room and shutting the door.
Matt unpacked his things, putting clothes in the drawers and closets, taking out all of his note taking items and such. It didn't take him too long before he grabbed his notebook and pen and walked to your room. He knocked on the door, "come in," you answered. You moved to sit up as Matt opened the door, "Hello," He said as he walked into your room. He took a moment to just look around, you had a desk, a computer, your bed with pink bedsheets and stuffed animals all around you. It looked like the ultimate comfort space. "Can i?" Matt motioned towards your desk chair and you nodded. He pulled it out, turning it towards you before sitting down. He opened his notebook, "Okay, so.. your parents explained a little about what was going on... but I'd like to hear it from you, can you tell me what's going on?" He asked, you stared at him, you knew the tone he was using, the fake caring tone, the one that just made you hurt, it hurt because you didn't want to have to pay someone to care but unfortunately that's the life you had. "Uh.. i have this disability, Hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome... it's different for everyone but for me i have uh knee dislocations, i wear knee braces for them, I can't stand for long period of times currently so i tend to use a wheelchair... i have POTs... then gastroparesis which makes me throw up almost everything i eat.. then the chronic fatigue and migraines sometimes.. and then just mental disorders..." You spoke softly, staring down at your hands as you picked at your nails.
Matt nodded, writing down each thing you said in little bullet points, "Mental disorders? Which ones?" He asked, not even looking up from the notebook. "OCD, anxiety, depression, adhd and autism," You sighed, you felt so... bad... listing everything off just made you feel like a black hole of a person, the black hole your parents convinced you you were. But Matt showed no emotion, face stone cold as he nodded, "Yeah all of that is comorbidities for Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome." Matt stated as he finished writing whatever he was writing. You were surprised, surprised he knew about that, but that was also his job so you nodded.
"Okay, so, doctors appointments, what do we have going on?" He asked, glancing up at you as he got ready to write. "Uh.. physical therapy twice a week right now, Mondays and Thursdays, therapy on Wednesdays and then other doctors appointments I can fit in between. I have to start ketamine treatments again, so I'll have to find a way to work that in, twice a week." You said softly, still picking at your nails. Matt noticed, stopping his writing for a moment as he looked around your room. "Here, why don't you mess with this?" Matt grabbed a fidget toy that sat on your desk, he leaned over and handed it to you and you took it, starting to mess with it instead of picking at your nails. "Okay, so Monday, Thursday is physical therapy, Wednesday is regular therapy. Then how about we try and fit in ketamine treatments on.. Tuesday and Friday? How does that sound?" Matt asked.
You shrugged, "We can but I also need to see my GI at some point and see my psychiatrist to change my medications." You said, continuing to mess with the fidget toy in your hands. "Okay, we'll figure that out. Ketamine treatments usually start with two to three treatments for about three weeks then move down to one to two for a few weeks then we stop. So we will make time for it. How urgent is seeing the psychiatrist?" He asked, looking over at you as you stared down at the fidget toy just taking in his questions.
"Pretty urgent.. but if i start the ketamine treatments that'll help.. but i dont know." You said softly. "Okay, so.. let's get scheduled with the psychiatrist first, I can call if you need me to. Then we can work in the GI, you said you've been throwing up, how often is that?" He asked, picking his pen back up to write. "Uh.. nightly usually.. but since I've been taking nausea meds every night it's gotten less.. it's just.. I can't lay down flat on my back or else I get really nauseous and throw up." You explained softly and Matt nodded as he wrote things down. "Okay, so nausea meds every night, I have a list of your medications.. so.. yes, it's right here," Matt said as he flipped through his notebook, making a little note by the nausea meds to take them every night.
"Okay, so.. what do you think you need help with most?" Matt asked, flipping back to the page he was on. "I-i dont know.. just take me to my appointments I guess.." you shrugged, Matt made a soft hum. "Okay, I can do that. For medications, I'm gonna take them and keep them locked away for your safety, I'll administer all medications, morning and night. What about meals? Three meals a day?" Matt asked. You shrugged again, "Let me grab all my meds," you mumbled, moving to get up but Matt stopped you, placing a hand on your lower leg. "Tell me where they are," he said softly, he could see it, how much you didn't want him to help, how much you wanted to fight it but you didn't seem to even have the fight in you. "They're in my bathroom, on the counter." You said. Matt nodded, walking to the bathroom and gathering the huge amount of pill bottles just laying out. "I'm gonna go put these in my room," he said and you nodded.
Matt walked out, taking the medications to his room, putting them down, he'd organize them later. He walked back to your room, sitting back down on the desk chair. "Do you need help with showering? Nothing to be ashamed of, I'm here to help," Matt said, hoping he didn't sound creepy, keeping in mind the OCD and how you might take that. "Uh.." You looked away, feeling embarrassed, and Matt saw your cheeks flush red. He would never judge someone for struggling to shower, or even take care of themselves, it was his job to help. "I just struggle to wash my hair.. the motions of trying to wash my hair that exhausts me." You admitted, trying to keep your voice from cracking. You hated sounding weak, hated seeming weak, hated needing as much help as you did. "Okay, so I can help you wash your hair, it's a free alternative, or we can find you a hair salon, maybe a cosmetology school? They do cheap hair washes." Matt suggested, you went back to looking at the fidget toy. "You can wash my hair... i dont wanna- yeah.. you can do it," you said softly and Matt nodded, not asking any questions and not making it a big deal.
"Awesome, we can do that. What does your day to day usually look like?" He asked. You took a moment to think about it, even though there wasn't much to think about. "Uh.. I usually have an appointment everyday so that's the first thing I do.. i wake up, leave for my appointment uh then come home and just lay in bed... Some days if i feel well enough ill play some computer games but mostly just lay in bed.. then I'll take a bath at some point.. Some days I'll take two baths.. but that's really it.. I mostly just go to my doctor's appointment and it wears me out so much that I just come home and lay in bed the rest of the day." You explained softly and Matt nodded, taking everything in. "Do you get three meals a day? Do you eat breakfast?" He asked and you shook your head. "I don't... I struggle to eat... I'll eat maybe a snack around 2 or 3 and then eat dinner at 6 which is not a lot and then that's it.. it doesn't matter how little or how much I eat, I'll just throw it up usually." You sighed and Matt nodded, "Okay... Well, we'll get to the GI and figure some stuff out. We will get it figured out, okay?" Matt said, reaching over and placing a comforting hand on your ankle. You nodded, "Okay.." for a moment the tears welled in your eyes.. the feeling of hopefulness sneaking up on you in a way you weren't used to. It felt good to have hope, but also scary as hell.
a/n: dividers by @/sisterlucifergraphics. This whole fic series is gonna be self indulgent but in a way it really really helps me feel better and also lowkey plan things for myself so yeah im using my irl life as inspiration and this is lowkey a diary of what my dream life would be but idc. I'm happy and people asked to be on the taglist for it and that made my heart so happy so i hope you guys enjoy this. I love yall. You guys are so amazing. I love you all.
taglist: @ilovesturniolozz @vantezzn @shessogone @aliaratawitchtrial @whore4chris @toybfs @mattspawprints @softaurae @inkedsturnioloss @icravechratt @just-aliyah @courta13 @vantezzn @rainyyy-weather @55sturn @angel-sturn1 @chrissturniolosuit @savmattsfavmattgirl @mazzydabazzy @rustedmagnolia @christophersspepsii @o1iwia
