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.
"Might your wife know?" She suggested and a part of my brain instantly died.
"Nope, I'm the stay at home parent in our family. It's definitely my responsibility. We just moved doctor's surgery's is all," a small lie (not all of us had moved doctor's surgeries) but it meant I wasn't suddenly outed as an orphan to a lady who had already been less than understanding, "so I haven't quite got used to all the new names yet." He continued, smiling politely and carrying on searching.
"Ah well, I'm sure you'll find it." She said, typing away on her computer and letting her smiley, pleasant expression drop the minute she thought neither of us weren't looking. I totally understand why Tommy doesn't bother with us sometimes. I wished I could do the same. Hospital waiting rooms were my least favourite place. Not having to keep up with social standards there would be nice.
Phil seemed to have found the necessary email and took the clipboard back from me, continuing to write down all the information. "I swear they have all this on their system already," he grumbled.
Suddenly the doors at one end of the waiting room opened on an automatic mechanism and lady poked her head round. She looked at us then at some of the other people in the waiting room (mostly parents and kids, there were a few teenagers too to be fair, but they didn't exactly look like teenagers, I guess that's what we're all there for). "Tobias Trusser?"
That name. That name I finally thought I'd gotten rid of. Escaped even. And yet, here it was. Haunting me. In that moment, I felt like shorts were a stupid decision, that I shouldn't have ever left Tommy at home and that Dad was back to get me, to finish the job he failed to last time. But it was just a name, I reminded myself. I got to my feet, got in a rhythm with my crutches and followed her straight through to one of the treatment rooms.
"Hi, you must be dad?" She said, reaching a hand out to shake Phil's.
"Call me Phil. And this is Tubbo, he's not a big talker."
"Alright, well that's okay. Hey there Tubbo. You know why you're here?" I nodded nervously, trying to make myself as small as possible in the uncomfortable, weirdly padded chairs.
"His physiotherapist is concerned that his lack of growth might be a hormone issue. We got referred here."
"Okay, so has he always been small for his age?" Phil looked at me, just double checking he was okay to say what he needed to. It had been an awkward conversation on the way here in the car. Him asking if he can explain my life story to a doctor I've just met. Of course I said yes, there isn't really a way around it. This isn't like my sessions with Scar.
"Yea, he's always been a little small. But Tubbo is my foster son. He came to stay with us about five months ago now after his dad stabbed him. He had a major hemorrhage that left him with some brain damage and mobility issues. His household was abusive and neglectful so he was small we he can to stay with us but unlike his brother he hasn't resumed healthy growth after having access to the right food."
"Okay, I'm so sorry that you've gone through that Tubbo. Hopefully today can help start the journey to get some of this off your plate." I was starting to like her now, just from the way she talked about things. "And you're thirteen?" She asked. I replied with simply nod. She hummed and made a few notes in a notebook I hadn't seen her get out. "As I'm sure as you both now, boys often go through puberty later than girls. You may very well just be a late bloomer in that regard, and then also just short for your age. Your physio did the right thing though, considering your history, it is worth checking."
"Yea." Phil replied.
"How old is your brother did you say?"
"Oh, eleven." Phil said quickly.
"Okay, so both of your had limited access to food during formative years of growth but he hasn't been affected?" I winced a little at both of us having limiting access to food. Phil immediately noticed.
"Tubbo often made sure his brother had eaten enough first. So Tubbo was the one not eating out of the two of them."
"Okay." She hummed and made a few more notes. "Sorry, I'm just thinking. I'm going to get a blood test done, see what your hormone levels are like. Just trying to work out what might be going on. So you eat well now?"
"He's an amazing cook!" Phil said, embarrassing me instantly.
"Did you cook before?" She asked, calmly. I nodded, a little proud. Cook books from the library and recipes printed off of school computers. Ready, steady cook and big cook, little cook had taught me well. Oh and of course all the rest of the baking shows I could possibly find on tv. Still can't believe I never realised who Gordon Ramsey actually was though. "That's great! Well done you. And also that's great for me." She said, making a few more notes, "would you say your diet was balanced?"
Phil stepped in. "He's always said that his meals were smaller than he'd like but balanced. What was that thing you made the other week for lunch? Oh umm a kind of like rice bowl. Our eldest son did a bunch of checking online and basically said it was super balanced, or something like that, I don't really know."
"Okay, that's interesting. So probably not due to a lack of vitamins or minerals."
"But that would be one of the only things he ate per day."
"So maybe your body didn't have the energy to grow so to speak. But that should have started correcting itself once it did. Hmmm?"
"It's strange." Phil commented, trying to kept the conversation flowing and avoiding any silence. He really was very nervous today.
"Okay. Here's my plan of action. I'm going to book you in for a blood test. You'll have to come back for that unfortunately. Then, we'll have a look at the results and decide from there."
"Do you think you know what it might be?"
"Oh definitely not," I grew fidgety in an instant, "but would it be helpful if I stated some of the things I think it might be?" I nodded and Phil joined in. She cleared her throat. "Option one: I literally don't know. Things happen for all sorts of reasons we can't always understand. Option two: it's a growth hormone issue. Your cells might not be as receptive or your pituitary gland might not be producing enough of the hormones. This mostly shows up when you're a lot younger or in puberty. I don't know whether it was around when you were younger and just went unchecked or if it's to do with puberty. The blood test should help us understand. Option three: you're body is just on major lag and eventually, it will start growing to catch up again. Option four: sorry, I know, there's a lot of options here. But there is a chance you just haven't hit puberty yet. Option five: your childhood has meant that your cells didn't get the right things at the right time and it's all gone a bit wrong. Or option six: you're just a bit shorter than everyone else."
"Right okay. So, it really could be anything?" Phil said, a quiver in his voice.
"Right now? Yes. If your blood test shows something, we'll work through it. If it doesn't, I'd suggest ensuring you're getting the right vitamins and minerals for cell growth, maybe some diet changes or supplements and just waiting until you hit puberty. That will likely mean waiting quite a few years but that's my best guess at the moment. Like I said, blood tests are pretty key in all of this."
"Better get it booked in then." Phil said, looking at me with a kind smile.
I sighed. No more answers than I had 30 minutes ago. Anyway, Phil's promised to take me out to lunch at subway. At least I've got that out of today. But I probably would have got that for just wearing these stupid shorts out. My phone doesn't even fit in the pocket of them properly!
I zoned out whilst Phil made the blood test appointment and dreaded the drive back home. At least I've got therapy tomorrow. I need to talk this all out. But I've never felt like that before and I'm not sure what to do with it.
A/n Hey! Hope you enjoy! Thanks for being here.