27. Uncooperative Patient
"Tai? Tai?"' Harrison repeated, waiting for his husband to respond. "Tai."
"What?!" He whipped around, snapping at Harrison.
"Hey don't yell at me." He frowned, hurt. "You were the one ignoring me."
"Yeah, well, maybe I just want some bloody peace and quiet away from your pestering."
"What are you on about?" Harrison took a step towards where Tai was sitting at the kitchen island. "I'm confused."
"All of this I'm sick of, sick of all the pestering, it's just again and again. It's like you don't know what I'm doing and I'm always doing it."
Harrison narrowed his eyes, watching Tai critically. "How's that?!
"As if you don't know." He scoffed, shoving the chair back with a clatter. It hit the floor with an awful bang, and White Harrison grimaced, Tai didn't even seem to notice.
"Why don't we go sit in the living room?" Harrison offered.
"There you go again! You know what I think about that. And they're just as bad, you're just not getting it are you? Fucking stupid. I don't know why I bother."
Harrison gave a sharp sigh. "Where's your phone, Tai?"
"I'm not going to tell you that, am I? You'll take it off me like you've taken everything else, like the kids. Look at them. They've fucking gone, haven't they? An' scout. None of them like you. I don't fucking like you."
"Yeah, there's a long list, I'm sure.” He muttered, turning to rummage in the junk drawer. "Sit down, will you? I need to do your sugar."
“'No,you don't."
"Yeah, I do." He shrugged, moving to stand in front of Tai. "Give me a finger."
He stuck the middle one up. "Fuck off."
Despite the situation, Harrison had to laugh. "Yeah, I deserved that one. I still need to check your sugars, love. Just a second, yeah?"
Harrison wasn't expecting it, Tai taking a sharp step forward and shoving his husband square in the chest. It jarred his leg, and it was a surprisingly strong shove, sending Harrison tumbling back, unbalanced and unexpecting.
He cracked the back of his head against the cabinets, his back dragging down the edges of the doors.
Stars danced in Harrison's vision, pain immediately lancing down his neck and back, across his ribs, and annoyingly enough around his prosthesis.
It took him a moment for him to manage to catch his breath, and even then it was forced. Despite feeling like he was dying, he forced himself to his knees, and then staggered to his feet. It was all too similar to his accident, his mind reeling and trying not to dissolve into panic.
He knew he couldn't, though, knew Tai needed him. He grabbed the glucagon kit from the top drawer and managed to stumble into the living room. He sent out a quick emergency text to anyone that was around while he was at it; he knew he'd need help one way or another.
Tai was sitting on the sofa in the living room when Harrison found him, grumbling away to himself and covered in sweat. "Tai?"
"What do you want?"
"You must be feeling pretty shit, yeah? You gonna let me help you?" He was more than a little worried to get close, and spied his phone on the coffee table. He edged forward, tapping on the screen. Alert after alert after alert. Goddammit Tai. The CGM moved slower than capillary, and he didn't want to imagine where it actually was. He was all too aware what had happened the last time it got too low.
"Yeah, I feel like fucking shit."
Harrison nodded, one hand behind him as he sat by Tai's side. He was grateful his husband was still wearing a T-shirt, despite the weather outside, and briefly rested his hand on his bicep.
"Have you tried doing your sugars?"
"No, I don't care about them. I just feel shit, you're not helping and I'm sick of it." He started rambling again, barely making sense. Harrison knew he didn't have long, and he only had one chance. He took a breath to try and stop the nausea, and stabbed him. There was time for niceties or soft touches, quickly injecting the glucagon and deftly locking the needle away.
Tai shouted, a mix of pain and surprise, but Harrison had already moved away. He'd not made it far, missing the bin as he lost his breakfast on the carpet. Great. It only seemed to make it worse, and he groaned, suddenly glad of the other sofa behind his leg. He collapsed gratefully onto it, letting his eyes close for just a second.
"What the fuck, Hars?!"
"You act like a dick, you get treated like one." He muttered under his breath. "It's for your own good, love. You're having a hypo. You're not you."
"Fuck off."
"Once you're back up, sure.” He pulled his phone out, dialling for an ambulance. As much as he'd done all he could, and normally would have been able to manage it himself, he knew if things didn't improve then he wouldn't be able to help. He could feel wetness down his back and a ginger feel across the back of his head brought back red. Even better.
He struggled through the operator's questions, finding it harder to think with each one. Tai, at least, looked better, no longer shaking as much as he had been.
There was a clatter from the front door, the scarper of paws on wood, and the kids announcing they were home. Harrison sighed. This was going to be fun to explain.
"Living room, we've had a bit of an issue." He called.
“Dad?” Alfie called, frowning. “What’s happened?”
"Dad's had a hypo. Can you grab the rest of the sugary stuff? And some toast?"
Shit. “Yeah. Kieran?” He turned to his brother. “Do the toast?” He asked, and his brother did, whilst Alfie padded into the living room. It was a state, Harrison with blood dripping from his nose, Tai collapsed on the other sofa looking awful. There was vomit on the carpet too, though he honestly had no idea who’s it was, they both looked awful.
“What the fuck?”
"Yeah, I know." Harrison shook his head. "Don't even start."
He took in the absolute state of the room, pressing his lips together. “Has dad had something, at least?”
"Glucagon." He said, holding the phone out. "Speak to the ambulance?"
“Uh, yeah.” He said, taking the phone.
Harrison knew better than to try standing, just glad he'd dragged the bin closer. He'd hoped he'd grow out of the vomiting after every head injury, but it just felt like it got worse each time. He groaned, stomach spasming as he buried his head.
Alfie winced, watching his dad vomit again, before he tried to answer the operator’s questions, vague on the details.
With another groan, Harrison raised his head. He roughly wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, making an unimpressed noise as he wiped blood from his nose. There was a flash of panic that he couldn't quite hide, but his worry for Tai easily overshadowed it.
Alfie couldn’t help the jolt of worry at the sight of his Dad, the blood dripping from his nose. Neither of them looked well, and the operator at the other end of the phone reassured him that they were on their way as soon as they could be. Kieran had appeared with the toast and other things for Tai, offering to him and trying to ignore the state of the room. Neither parent looked well, and the twins were out of their depth completely. They knew how to manage Tai’s diabetes, of course, but with Harrison looking so ill too, they didn’t have anyone to help them.
"What's his sugars doing, Kit?"
Kieran had grabbed his Dad’s phone, open to the CGM’s app. “Better, coming up now.” He said. Tai looked better, too, no longer as agitated, and was eating the toast without protest.
He shot them a smile. "Thanks, boys. Sorry you had to come into this."
“Are you okay?” He asked. “You look like shit.”
"I just took a tumble, I'm fine."
“You’re bleeding and you’ve been sick.”
"Head injuries bleed a lot. It's fine."
“Alfie is on the phone to the ambulance.”
Harrison hummed. "Yeah, for dad."
“Like you don’t need it too.”
"Course not. I need Tai sorted, then I can go to bed."
Given the seriousness of the situation, the ambulance arrived quickly, and Alfie rushed to the door to let him in, Keiran still trying to get Tai to eat.
“They’re in here. It’s kind of bad…”
Harrison glanced up, offering a sheepish smile. "I'm not the one I called about, I'm fine enough. Tai had a hypo."
“You don’t look too great yourself.” One said, whilst the other radioed for another set of hands. This was definitely more complicated than a simple hypo.
"I'm just concussed a bit. I'm always sick, I've got a bit of a lac to the back of my head, but I don't think it's that bad."
“What happened?”
Harrison glanced at the twins before returning his gaze to the floor. "I fell."
“Can you talk me through how you fell?”
"Nope. I'm not your patient. Tai is."
“You both are at this point, I’m afraid.”
"Nah, I'm good."
“With a concussion you don’t get to make that choice.”
Harrison narrowed his eyes at him. "Ah, fuck."
“You know I’m right. How did you fall?”
"Backwards, against the kitchen cabinets."
“Ah. Did you lose consciousness? Black out?”
"Remember the whole thing, got really dizzy and couldn't see properly. Winded, too, with how I hit the bench. Took a moment, followed Tai through here, managed to get his glucagon in and then I started throwing up. I always have done." He gave as much information as he could get away with while withholding the important bits. "I'm just a bit concussed, head injuries just piss everywhere, that's all. I'm really not that bad, I just need a lie down."
“You’ll get a lie down.” He reassured him. “That’s a significant fall, you and I both know that.”
"A lie down in my own bed."
“Not going to happen I’m afraid."
"I'm not being rude to you, but that's bullshit." He sighed. "On second thoughts, you carry ondansetron?"
“Not being rude, eh? Yes, we carry ondansetron.”
"You can stab me for being rude then. I won’t say no to that." He adjusted his grip on the bin, trying and failing to breathe through it.
“Now you want something from us.” They knew Harrison, often seeing him at work, and knew where they could tease. That was flirting the limit, but he hoped it would be okay.
Harrison huffed. "Ah, but look. I pretty much fixed your patient for you."
“I suppose you helped.”
"Didn't want you to feel like I was doing all the hard work though." He broke off to vomit, giving a quiet apology before continuing. "So I decided to make another patient for you."
“Let me get that ondansetron sorted for you, then.” He said, reassuring him. But things were serious, especially with the vomiting.
"Yeah, thanks." He murmured. "What's Tai's sugars at?"
“Uh, 3.5 at the moment.”
"Mm, okay. He's coming up alright then."
“Going in the right direction.”
"I got a 1.3 on his phone."
“So likely even lower? Okay, yeah. Explains things.”
"Couldn't get a fingerprick."
“We’ve managed one, which is good.”
"Yeah, he's more compliant now."
“Things are moving in the right direction.”
Harrison retched. "Well, it makes one of us."
The other para had sorted the ondansetron quickly enough, and returned to Harrison. “Here, got this antisickness for you.”
"Who's the lucky one that gets to stab me?"
“That would be me.”
"I'm not gonna judge you, just stab me once yeah?"
“That’s the plan.” He said, getting his kit sorted. “Can get you some pain relief too, if you need it?”
"I might take you up on that."
“Alright, I can get that sorted in a mo.” He said, finding a good vein and prepping it carefully. “Right, sharp scratch.”
Harrison hummed, letting him get on with it. He focused on trying not to be sick while he worked, all too aware of being on the other side of things.
He got it in easily, and it flushed nicely. “There. Just gonna get this antisickness in for you now, well done.”
"Thanks."
“Hopefully this second crew should be here shortly and we can get you both off to hospital. Have you got someone to come and be with the kids?”
"Kit and Bug are seventeen."
“I’m sure it would be nice for them to have someone with them?”
"I don't know if anyone replied." He was starting to get more than a little tired of the situation, the nausea still there and the pain creeping in.
“Do you want us to call someone?”
"Maybe, yeah."
“How’s that pain? Do you want something?”