#chronic illness!reader

Early on in life you had been thrown a curveball when you were diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.

It had caused issues the first few years but with the help of family, doctors and medications, you had been able to manage it.

The only time it seemed to pose a setback was when you started medical school.

You’d think it would be more assuring to work in a hospital, especially if something went wrong. But while that might seem to be a good thing, you were worried others would view it as a weakness.

Being a nurse requires you to be careful, attentive, and meticulous in everything you do.

You weren’t ashamed of the fact you had diabetes, but you didn’t want to give people a reason to doubt your abilities. 

The only people at PTMC that knew of your condition was Gloria (for disclosure purposes) and your boyfriend, Brendon Park.

He was truly a blessing and beyond understanding of things. Brendon always had a sugary drink or snack on hand for low blood sugar, and extra medication for when it got too high. He was always prepared.

You appreciated him so much more for it.

He always tried to watch out for you since at times you would get overwhelmed with work or other things and not stay on top of things.

Unfortunately today was an extremely busy day for him and unfortunately it was for you too.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Budget cuts.

That was the biggest talk around the hospital. Word had it that it was happening in all departments and the pitt was the first to get hit.

This meant that everyone was on their A-game and working ten times harder to not be part of the cut.

You were one of the people who was working their ass off to not be cut. This meant showing up early, staying late, taking extra shifts, no sitting, and no breaks.

This posed an issue for you since you had to be a tad more vigilant with yourself and your diabetes.

Normally you would check your phone several times a day to make sure your blood sugar was in range and make sure your dexcom was letting you know if something was too high or too low.

But with the talk of cutting staff, you had neglected checking your phone so that you wouldn’t have anyone second guessing you.

—--

It’s late afternoon when it happens.

You’re at a slight jog all day moving from patient to patient, filling out chart after chart. The sweat is sticking to you and it feels like the a/c isn’t even working.

It starts when you take a short five minutes to catch your breath.

You had felt fatigued all day but it was now really starting to set in, more than usual. Your heart is also beating a bit too fast but you chalk it up to being on the move all day.

An hour later you feel the shaking begin. It’s barely noticeable to anyone else but you clock it immediately.

It’s not too bad, I’ll be fine for a bit longer.

That's the thought process you convince yourself to keep going.

You can’t afford to stop again.

You can’t get cut.

So you continue working.

Not even thirty minutes later you’re getting ready to discharge a patient when your sight gets a bit blurry.

You shake your head a bit hoping to clear things. When it doesn’t help you dismiss yourself from the room briefly.

Walking to the nurses station feels like you’re completing a race drunk.

The dizziness is getting worse and making you sluggish in movement.

“Sweetpea, you okay?”

Dana? Who’s talking to me?

Your vision still swims as you look up and see blurry figures not too far from you.

“Kid? You’re not lookin too good. What’s wrong?”

Robby?

I don’t feel good.

“Kid what’s wrong? Can you hear me?”

Yes I can hear you. I just told you I don’t feel good.

It feels like everything is in slow motion as you reach for the desk counter but you can’t feel it.

All you feel is how your world tilts.

Everything going black before you hit the floor.

—--

“Shit!” Robby hisses out before lunging towards your crumbling form.

He manages to catch your upper body before your head hits the floor.

“I need a gurney now!” he yells as he checks the pulse in your neck.

Dana falls to her knees with you and Robby.

“Sweetpea, hey! Can you hear me?”

She checks your eyes but they’re rolled to the back of your head.

“Her pulse is racing D. I don’t know what’s going on.”

A gurney is rolled over and they both get you lifted and rolled into an empty room.

“Does she have any medical issues? Did something happen recently?”

Dana looks over you checking for injuries. She lifts your left sleeve and then your right one.

“Robby, get over here!”

He rushes over and looks at what she’s found.

Your dexcom.

“She’s diabetic?” He questions in disbelief

Dana tears up as she shakes her head “I had no idea.”

“I need glucagon now!” he shouts to a resident in the room.

He then looks back to Dana “Get Park down here.”

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Brendon is finishing scrubbing out from a surgery. He’s exhausted as he dries off his hands but is pulled from his tired state from the door hitting the wall.

“Park” Garcia says as she catches her breath “get to the pitt now.”

His eyebrows furrow as he fully faces her “What’s wrong?”

“Dana called up saying your girl collapsed and to get down there quick.”

Brendon’s moving before she can even finish.

His heart races as his mind files through the possibilities at hand. He runs as fast as he can to get to you.

—--

He makes it to the pitt in record time and finds your room as its crowded by your pitt family trying to check on you.

“Park,” Robby gets his attention and he quickly pushes through everyone to get in, finding your side immediately.

He cups your face gently, thumbs rubbing over your cheeks.

“What fucking happened, Robinavitch?”

Robby turns to him “Why didn’t you or her tell us she was fucking diabetic?” he says with a clipped tone.

Brendon is taken aback by the question, anger slowly building.

“Excuse me? That’s something you guys should already know. Why would I have to tell you?” he grits out

Robby furrows his eyebrows “What? We never knew. We just found out when she collapsed from a fucking hypoglycemic episode. Her blood sugar tanked bad, Park.”

Brendon looks at Robby in shock “She didn’t tell you?”

He shakes his head.

Brendon looks at your resting form.

Why didn’t you tell them?

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Your eyes feel heavy as you try to open them.

What the hell?

Shift must’ve been crazy if I can barely wake up.

As you open your eyes and things come into focus, you’re met with the frown of an upset boyfriend and concerned faces of your friends.

Wait what?

“B-Bren?”

“Welcome back sweetpea.” Dana smiles in your direction.

You look from her, to Robby, and then to Brendon.

“What happened?”

Brendon approaches you and cups your face as he kisses your forehead.

“Your blood sugar dropped, sweetheart. Why didn’t you take something when your phone went off?”

Your eyebrows furrow as you feel around your pockets and pull out your phone.

You tap the screen and it doesn’t turn on.

Shit. 

“I never heard it go off. I guess my phone was dead. Shit, I’m sorry Bren.”

He rubs your cheek gently “It’s okay baby. You’re okay now. But do you want to tell me why your friends and coworkers had no idea you were diabetic?”

You look back over at Dana and Robby who give off worried mom and dad energy.

Tears start to fill your eyes.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whisper out “I just– I never wanted anyone to doubt me or my abilities if they knew or saw me handling it. Then with the budget cuts I really didn’t want anyone doubting me. I usually look at my phone to check my levels but I didn’t want to risk any bad feedback that could get me in trouble.”

Robby walks to your other side and grabs your hand.

“Kid,” he starts “no one would doubt your abilities and if they did, me and anyone who really know you would squash that immediately.”

He looks up at the ceiling and you see his eyes wet with unshed tears.

“My stomach dropped when you collapsed. I didn’t know if you were hurt or if I was watching you die.” he sniffs as he puts his hands on his hips.

“Sweet girl, your health is more important than anything. You can’t do your best if you don’t feel your best. You have to tell us when you have conditions like this.” Dana tells you

“We’re not here to judge you and we would never tell anyone but we need to know these things so we can care for you better in case things like this happen.” Tears roll down your face as you nod silently.

Brendon wipes the tears away.

“Sweetheart, as soon as your phone is charged, you’re adding me on your app to keep me notified of your levels. I can’t see you like this again. I can’t, baby.”

Your hand covers his and you kiss the side of it.

“Deal” you whisper

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

ᝰ you’re a difficult to thing to talk about for the roys

ᝰ shiv is the only one who’s ever really defended you to your father

ᝰ kendall and roman still supported you, but were just too afraid of logan to do anything

ᝰ early childhood, connor made sure you took all your meds exactly when you were supppsed to, every single day

ᝰ roman would make up games that you could play that didn’t require you to run or exert yourself to the point where you got hurt

ᝰ you and shiv would read the harry potter picture books together

ᝰ kendall, in secret, would do all of your homework if you weren’t feeling well

ᝰ which was a lot

ᝰ shiv would always convince your dad to let you sleep in or stay home from school certain days

ᝰ roman would physically fight kids who bullied you or were rude at school/on the playground

ᝰ in high school, kendall wrote a five page letter to the principal and got one repeat bully of yours expelled

ᝰ shiv campaigned hard to make school more accessible for you

ᝰ roman still fought people that looked at you funny

ᝰ he tells you one night after getting a bloody lip that he’ll never stop fighting for you

ᝰ it was tradition that if you were bed bound or in the hospital, shiv, roman, and kendall would bring a deck of cards to you so you could all play

ᝰ but as you got older, you all drifted apart

ᝰ first ken moving away for college, the other two following slowly after

ᝰ they kept in contact, sure, but now you’re in this massive house, all by yourself with no one to talk to

ᝰ you did college online

ᝰ and even then, you don’t ever think you’ll really be able to work

ᝰ you avoid your father as much as physically possible

ᝰ he’s always thought you weren’t worth anything

ᝰ you’ve learned not to let it get to you

ᝰ after kendall graduates and comes back to new york to work for waystar, he visits more

ᝰ connor’s been long gone, so now it’s him staying on top of your meds

ᝰ even though you can do it yourself, you let him

ᝰ you know he feels bad for you

ᝰ some dystopian pity

ᝰ you didn’t want to talk about it with him, ever, so you just let him do it

ᝰ things only change after roman graduates

ᝰ even though he’s arguably the most afraid of your father, he came back to new york and made you move in with him

ᝰ “you don’t even take care of yourself, ro,” you tell him one day

ᝰ “so? you’re more important to me. i’m not going to let you fucking be in danger because dad’s a jackass.”

ᝰ he makes sure his fridge and pantry are stocked with solely food you can eat

ᝰ your dad never asks after you

ᝰ but oh well

ᝰ you only ever talk to roman anymore

ᝰ it changes after a particularly bad scare with your health

ᝰ and it’s just like ten years ago, the four of you cramped together on one hospital bed, playing cards

ᝰ shiv and ken never lose touch with you again

ᝰ you walk ken down the aisle at his wedding

“Hey neighbor.”

You turn to your left and see your next-door neighbor.

Brendon Park.

He was stupidly handsome and such a nice guy.

You always see him at different times of the day because he’s a surgeon down the road at ptmc. It’s also a nice perk to live next door to a doctor, which he insisted you knock if you ever need him day or night.

“Hey Bren, going out or just getting back?”

He smiles as he leans against his door “Just getting back. A long nap is calling my name. Hopefully I’m up by lunch. Where are you and Meesh headed?”

Meesh, a nickname for Misha, is a 4 year old golden retriever. He’s also your service dog of almost three years now.

You had been diagnosed with POTS as a teenager and over the years it had gotten a little more intense. This had led to you passing out while out by yourself one day and had hit your head. Luckily a passerby called EMS and you were taken to the hospital and treated.

It happened more frequently after that and your parents decided a service dog was non-negotiable since you lived alone. 

You’ve lived next to Brendon for about a year now and even though he’s a doctor, you’ve never told him of your condition. You just didn’t want to seem incapable or weak around him.

Obviously he knew you had some sort of medical condition as you had Misha but he’d never ask unless you were to bring it up first.

“We’re headed to the new farmer’s market downtown. I’ve heard good things and I've been dying to check it out.” you laugh

“Oooo there's a jam stand there that sells raspberry peach jam, here–” he pulls $40 from his wallet “Could you grab me two jars? I’ve not been able to go with my schedule lately.”

You shake your head with a smile “Bren, I’ll get them. You don’t have to pay me.”

He raises an eyebrow and holds the money out.

“Uh uh, take this and keep the rest for the troubles.” 

You tap your chin dramatically “How about I’ll take it when I bring the jams back, fair deal?”

He tilts his head with a chuckle.

“You drive a hard bargain woman but okay, when you get back.”

You wave to him as you walk Meesh to the elevator.

Brendon watches you go even after the elevator doors close.

He bites his lip at the thought of seeing you again later.

Shaking his head he finally unlocks his door and walks in.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

After a whole day in the hot Pittsburgh heat, you’re finally making your way back to the apartment building.

You hold your tote bag on your shoulder, the two jars of jam securely tucked in it.

As you walk towards the elevator you notice a sign on the doors

‘Elevators out of service until tomorrow.”

“Fuck” you say quietly.

Guess you’ll be taking the stairs.

You’re on the sixth floor so it’s not terrible but the trek up there still won’t be easy.

After a few minutes you realize the air conditioning isn’t great in the stairwell and you’re starting to sweat a lot.

You end up stopping on the fourth floor to sit down for a few minutes.

You’re pretty out of breath and start to feel a little dizzy.

Just two more floors.

When you go to stand up Meesh is at your side and is trying to lay on your lap, keeping you sitting.

You then realize he’s alerting you to your fast heart rate. A potential episode starting. 

Normally this is when you’d stay seated and rest a bit but you don’t. Gently you pet him while trying to catch your breath.

“I-It’s okay Meesh. Just t-two more and I’ll sit w-when we’re upstairs.”

You knew better than to ignore him and not immediately take it easy but you were almost home.

Meesh whines a little as he desperately tries to get you to stay sitting but you get up anyway and continue up the stairs.

Finally you’re only a set of stairs away from the sixth floor door. As you go to take a step, it feels like the ground is shifting. Your movements feel sluggish as you take another step.

Shit. I need to sit right now.

Your hands shake as you try to grab your phone from your purse. Meesh is back at your side nudging you and again trying to get you to sit.

Without looking you take another step but the dizziness throws you off balance, sending you tumbling down the few stairs to the platform below.

Your bag hits the ground, scattering all your belongings somewhere you can’t see.

“M-Meeshhh” you try to call for him. He looks torn to find something to help and staying to help comfort you. 

Then in a split second he’s racing up the stairs to the hallway door. The inside of the door is one you push to open from both sides. 

Luckily, in training Meesh, he had been taught how to open a few different types of door handles for retrieving water, medicines, and other things.

It doesn’t take long for him to figure this one out and as soon as it starts to open he’s squeezing through the opening and runs to your apartment door.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Brendon’s enjoying his post-shift nap when a noise pulls him from his sleep.

He looks up from the couch and listens quietly.

There’s a scratching sound.

Are there rats in the walls?

He goes to lay back down when he hears whining.

“What the f—“

Then there’s a loud bark that sounds close by.

He then moves from the couch and towards the front door.

Cracking it open he sees golden fur by your door.

Brendon opens the door wider and sees Meesh scratching at your door.

“Hey Meesh!” he stays where he is since he’s well aware to not touch working dogs.

Speaking of working, where were you?

He walks out further and doesn’t see you but he notices Meesh’s frantic behavior.

“Where’s your mommy buddy?”

Meesh runs to Brendon and frantically paws at Brendon and then runs down to the door leading to the stairwell.

Brendon’s eyebrows furrow as he observes the dog's behavior.

Then it hits him.

Shit.

In a training seminar he was taught that if a service dog is alone, to follow them. That some dogs were trained to find help if the handler was injured or suffering a medical emergency.

You could be in trouble.

He immediately runs to where Meesh is and pushes the door open.

Peering down the stairs, his heart stops.

You’re at the bottom of the stairs on your side looking like you passed out. Your stuff is everywhere and Meesh is trying to comfort you and lay on your chest.

“Sweetheart, hey!” He yells as he makes his way to you quickly.

He notices your labored breathing and that your eyes are barely open.

“Hey sweet girl, what happened? Are you okay?” 

He gently feels around your head and takes note of a bump on the side where you likely hit your head.

“B-Bren?” you slur out a little

His hand engulfs your face as he looks you over.

“It’s okay sweetheart, we’re gonna head to ptmc right now.”

You shake your head as you try to sit up.

“Sorry baby you can’t get up. Just stay still.”

“No Bren,” you mumble “no ambulance.”

He grabs your attention, looking into your eyes.

“Hey, hey I know but you’re hurt. So either the ambulance takes you or I do.”

You squint your eyes at the pounding headache and try to curl into him “Take me please.”

——

Brendon had quickly gotten his keys and then grabbed you and Meesh, making his way to ptmc.

He wished he had a picture of Dana’s face when he had come in with you in his arms and a dog glued to your side.

The three of you were a sight to see amongst his friends and colleagues.

Quickly Robby had been called down to your room to assess you. 

Brendon stayed glued to your side with your hand in his as they evaluated you, taking in all the information Robby talked about.

You had POTS?

Fuck, he wish you would’ve told him so he could’ve helped better.

—--

About an hour later you were more coherent and able to register where you were.

“Bren?” you whisper as you see him to the side of you.

Your voice gets his attention and he looks over, his hand immediately stroking the side of your face gently.

“Hey sweetheart, you feelin better?”

You take a mental inventory of how you’re feeling.

“Yeah,” you nod “what hap—Meesh! Where is h-“

Brendon hushes you softly “He’s right here.”

He motions towards the dog that’s been attached to him and head in his lap since you guys arrived.

You nod shaky as you try to calm your racing heart.

“You had an episode, POTS. Guess you already knew but they think it was likely brought on by the heat and the exertion from climbing the stairs.”

You start to recall the events in your head.

“Yeah I-I remember it. Meesh alerted to the symptoms but I just wanted to make it to the apartment first. I should’ve listened to him. I’m sorry to drag you into all of this.”

Brendon squeezes your hand “Hey it’s okay. I’m glad I was home to help. But I’m gonna give you my number and next time the elevator is out or you don’t feel good, you use it and call me. I don’t care if I’m asleep or not home. You call me and I’ll come get you, okay?”

You shake your head “Bren, I can’t d-“

“Promise me sweetheart?” his face pleading with you.

You contemplate it and then nod, squeezing his hand.

“Okay, I promise “

He brings your hand to his mouth and places a kiss there.

“Perfect.”

You look around “Where’s my bag?”

Brendo turns and takes it off the back of his chair.

“I gathered what I saw on the stairs earlier but if something’s missing, tell me and I’ll go back and look for it baby.”

Rummaging through the bag you pull out what you were looking for, holding them out to him.

“You really got them?” his grin gets wider as he carefully takes the jars of raspberry peach jam from you.

“How could I forget?” you smile back.

He leans forward and kisses your forehead.

“You’re something else, sweetheart.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・