Chapter 47: growing up

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Tubbo's POV:

I woke up sore and tired. The theme park was great yesterday and considering I now know I don't like roller coasters, I actually really enjoyed it. James is good at making sure you enjoy things even when you're not doing what everyone else is doing. I can see more and more why Tommy likes him.

Phil came in with some breakfast and reminded me we'd need to leave soon. We had my paediatric endocrinologist appointment at some fancy hospital in London today. Apparently cause I was short and small for my age and it hadn't improved once I had proper access to food (like it had for Tommy), my physiotherapist was concerned I might have an issue with the chemicals in my body that make me grow. Or something like that anyway. I had enough on my plate without having to listen to all that. And nowadays I had the luxury of knowing Phil and Kristin would sort it all out for me, which they had. All I had to do was show up, that sounded less difficult.

Phil was driving me to Great Ormond Street Hospital for Children to see some special doctor who would basically tell me whether there was anything wrong or not. My best guess was that it was going to be some big waste and they'd just tell us to come back if I didn't hit puberty and have all that stupid stuff happen. Still, Phil and Kristin had booked the appointment and it felt rude to disregard what they were doing to help me.

Kristin was staying behind with the others and doing school work, so I was taking the escape from that too.

I got changed, stuck my splints on, which made me feel way better about walking, like I was closer to the floor. Notably, today I had picked one of the many pairs of unworn shorts out my wardrobe. It was so hot yesterday at the theme park and it had led to me deciding last night I needed to get over myself. My legs had more muscle on them now because of all the physio exercises Luke had set as my homework for each day I don't have a session on, and with the splints and everything, they didn't look weird anymore.

The only issue was I found the shorts didn't sit great when I was sat in my wheelchair. I re-positioned them a bit until I was happy but eventually decided it was just going to be an issue all day and went on my crutches instead. I don't know why I didn't just try another pair of shorts, not all of them sit like that in my wheelchair. Anyway, I wasn't really in the mood for all of it. Maybe it would have been easier if I'd just eaten breakfast first.

Time skip:

"Ah god, I don't know your GP's name!" Phil said, gritting his teeth in frustration. He'd got me and Tommy moved to a doctor's surgery closer to their house, but neither of us had needed to use it properly yet. Most of our stuff was done privately (like the autism and dyslexia diagnosis) or just straight at the larger hospital. Referrals often took too long anyway, just like this one. And just like the time I tried to get Tommy referred for speech therapy when I realised he was making sounds similar to words. They never even got round to it! But maybe that's cause Dad never did the paperwork properly. At least Phil was trying to do this paperwork properly now. "Hang on mate, can you hold this?" He said, handing me the clipboard and pen. "I'm sure I've got an email with this information on somewhere."

I held onto the clipboard tightly and scanned the page he'd been writing on. I wasn't up for the mental gymnastics that was reading, and Phil's handwriting wasn't the clearest so mostly I was just looking at the nice way it was formatted. I'm such a microsoft word geek, and don't worry, I hate myself for it.

The lady at the reception desk smiled at me and gave a pity smile to Phil. "Can I help you?"

"Umm, no it's okay," he flustered, "I'm sure I've got his medical information somewhere on here." He gestured to his phone frantically. For whatever reason, Phil was really panicked about this.

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