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chickensarentcheap · 3 years

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Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 46

Title: Not Broken, Just Bent

Warnings: mention of suicidal thoughts, profanity, angst

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @tragiclyhip, @miss-smutty

“I appreciate this,” Tyler says, as he and Desi work side by side in the front foyer; assisting the three littles with the zippers on their coats and the laces on their boots.

He’d called the neighbour on a whim; desperate for even the smallest bit of help. He’s never been one to just reach out to others; long drilled into him that only a pathetic and weak man needs a helping hand. But if the first nightmare in Dhaka had taught him anything, it’s that even the biggest and strongest need someone to lean on from time to time; his body and his spirit so broken that he’d required assistance with even the most basic and simplest of everyday living skills. Esme stepping up to the plate and never once complaining about the energy it depleted her of or the time it took out of her own schedule; never making him feel as if he were a burden. Accompanying -and chauffeuring, as both his physical limitations and pain medications made it impossible for him to function to that extent- him to doctors visits and physiotherapy sessions and counselling appointments with addiction specialists. Always wanting her right there with him even when the most difficult of subjects were broached or intense physical exercises caused excruciating pain. Her quiet presence and all of the patience and resilience inhabiting that tiny body both a source of strength and a tremendous comfort. Accompanied by the tender touch of her hands as they massaged his shoulders or rubbed his back or her fingertips cleared wayward strands of hair from his forehead and out of his eyes. Voice soft and soothing even during the moments where frustration and pain had him raging; a palm on the back of his neck and her nose pressed against his temple as she encouraged him to ‘just breathe’ and reminded him of how far he’d already come and how he was proving all of the doctors and the naysayers wrong.

Six years later she’d find herself back in that situation again; his babies growing and thriving inside her as she once more took on the role of his caretaker. Having to lend assistance with even the mundane things most people take for granted; helping him to the bathroom when the pain was too intense to make it even when the aid of crutches or a walker, keeping a well organized and attentively followed medication schedule, feeding him when the tremors in his hands -a side effect of the meds- made it impossible for him to even hold a fork or spoon. Giving him showers or sponge baths or washing his hair in the kitchen sink and trimming both his hair and his beard. And she’d willingly learned more intensive care as well; wound irrigation and cleaning and how to switch out the IV and medication bags when an infection in the lower back had forced him onto powerful antibiotics. She’d been overwhelmed and exhausted but had never shown it; never losing her patience or her temper with him and never reacting when his own -triggered by pain and frustration and vulnerability- kicked off.

Months of her constant presence, reassurance and steadfast care had opened his eyes to who his wife TRULY is; an incredibly strong and resilient woman that has been through hell and back -a number of times- but never lets the situation break her. Always positive and upbeat; gracing him with smiles or ruffles of his hair or kisses to his cheek and words of praise and encouragement. It had given him a new appreciation and respect for her; how easy she made it look while caring for him and keeping a home running and taking care of his children. Even now he remains in awe of her; the amount of determination and love that can exist in someone so small. And if it taught them both anything, it’s that they truly ARE a team; relying on one another in many different ways. What could have destroyed other couples only served to make them stronger. That foundation built upon a unique and powerful bond and formed through a complicated and dangerous situation never crumbling; holding them up with everything around them seemed to want to break them down. Everything became more solid; their marriage, their roles are parents, their friendship. And they’ve discovered they loved each other even more than they ever realized; a love so complete and whole and all consuming.

Now it’s his turn; shove all of his issues and his demons and monsters aside to take care of her. It’s the one thing he’s always been both good at, and consistent with; shelving all of his problems in order to focus on hers. It’s two fold. A chance to show her just how loved and appreciated and adored she actually is; a way of proving just how grateful he is for everything she’s done -for him AND their family- throughout the past twelve and a half years. And it keeps both his body and his mind busy; making her his number priority an effective way to battle back against his demons. But He realizes he can’t do it alone; the old adage of ‘it takes a village’ proving true. Seven kids in the house means a lot of noise and a lot of activity. Not the ideal setting and atmosphere for someone that is both mentally AND physically exhausted.

While Desi had been the obvious choice on who to seek out, it had taken Tyler nearly a half an hour to convince himself to make the call; feeling guilty for yet again turning to their neighbour to lend a hand. It’s primarily an ego issue; feeling like ‘less of a man’ for not only needing help, but outwardly admitting it and lowering his guard enough to ask for it. Esme would blame it on the toxic masculinity that still lingers deep inside; the ghost of his father telling him he should be dealing everything on his own and that not being able to is a sign of both cowardice and weakness. It remains a struggle at times; breaking away from that train of thought and reminding himself that everything his old man had taught him -or attempted to- had been unhealthy and toxic and nothing but complete bullshit. And Desi is like family; always stepping up when either of them have needed him. A loyal confidant and steadfast supporter, he’d easily and effortlessly blended with large broods; enjoying the time spent under their crazy and chaotic roof and giving the kids the kind of uncle they deserve. And while it normally takes Tyler months or even years to trust someone when it comes to his personal life and the safety and the well being of his family, with Desi it has come fairly easily. That laid back and enormously generous personality and the gentle and compassionate way he treats Esme and the kids had triggered Tyler’s instincts. Letting him know that the man was trustworthy and reliable and in no way a threat.

“Anytime,” Desi says, as he finishes with the laces on Takota’s boots and turns to help Brooklyn, allowing her to attempt the tying and only stepping in which she gets frustrated and gives up. “You know I’m here for you guys. Always.”

Tyler slips a purple and pink knitted beanie onto Addie’s head. “Seem to rely on you an awful lot.”

“It’s what friends do, right? Help each other out when they need it. They step up. Lend a hand. No one can go through life alone. No one.”

“You wouldn’t have been able to tell me that thirteen years ago. I was pretty sure that’s how I’d live out the rest of my life. And die.”

“Were you happy though? Living like that? All by your lonesome? Out there in the middle of nowhere?”

“I had company.”

“A dog and a chicken are NOT company,” Desi informs him. “Not by a long shot.”

“Dogs are man’s best friend, aren’t they? And it was a pretty smart chicken.”

“You can’t tell me you were happy like that. Living way out there, alone, no one to talk to. No one is happy living like that.”

“In all fairness, ninety percent of the time I was too out of it to be carrying on conversations.”

It feels like a lifetime ago; that rundown shack in the middle of the outback, surrounded by nothing but the sparse trees and dry earth and looming mountain ranges. It had seemed like the perfect place to let his wounds fester and his addictions take hold; no one trying to dictate what he could and couldn’t do, no attempts at trying to talk him into rehab or counselling, far enough out that not even Koen or Rata made it a habit of stopping by unannounced. Out there he’d been surrounded by nothing but emptiness; a perfect match for the gaping hole in his chest where his heart had once been. A punishment of sorts. Nothing but the mistakes of the past and his overwhelming grief and guilt to keep him warm at night. Out there he could let the demons run rampant; drinking himself into oblivion and abusing Oxy at an alarming rate. His last coherent thought before passing out would always be the same; that the substances he’d put in his body would be enough to ensure he didn’t wake up the next day. But he always did; usually coming to in the middle of the warped and dusty floor or sitting at the kitchen table. Surrounded by empty bottles of booze and tipped over vials of pills and crippled by a brutal hangover; the headache and nausea and the dizziness so intense he’d have to crawl to the bathroom.

When it became apparent that the mix of alcohol and painkillers weren’t enough to do the trick, he began taking the most risky and dangerous jobs possible. By that time, he was fully engrossed in his death wish; too chicken to pull the trigger himself so instead relying on someone else to do it for him. Every time he went out, he’d all but pleaded to a higher power that it would be his last. Resorting to begging and pleading with whatever -or whoever- was watching his ass to take break; take their eyes off him or shirk their duties long enough for him to catch a bullet to the head. Yet it never happened. No matter how many times he’d spun that barrel and taken the risk, he always lived to see another day. Which in turn had only made his desperation even more intense; feeding into that grief and the sorrow that threatened to drown him yet never took him right under. That day on the cliff when he’d plunged into the water below, there’d been nothing stopping him from giving up; the weight of his regret and self loathing enough to keep him below the surface and allow his air to slowly run out. He hadn’t been afraid. He’d been ready to die for a long time.

Yet something had told him to keep going. A little voice hanging onto a thread of hope; louder than those attempting to destroy him. And when he’d pulled himself out of the water, he’d found he suddenly felt lighter; as if some of the burdens and past mistakes had temporarily lifted and been replaced by the first shred of contentment he’d experienced in a hell of a long time. Less than forty minutes later, he’d be watching Esme as she climbed up onto his porch. Studying her as she crouched down and showered his dog with attention. Finding himself both curious and intrigued about the unknown, tattooed and pierced dark haired beauty that had suddenly shown up in his life.

“You gotta admit, that kind of existence IS lonely,” Desi says, as he opens the front door and motions for the three littles to step through. “All alone? Out in a place like THAT? I’ve been there, remember. I’ve seen what it’s like. It’s desolate and it’s isolating and…”

“And it’s what I wanted at the time.’

Desi cocks an eyebrow, then steps out onto the front porch. “What you wanted? Or what you thought you deserved?”

A smirk tugs at the corner of Tyler’s mouth, and he stands on the threshold with a palm flat against the door, effectively holding it open. “What seemed right at the time.”

“Were you? Lonely?”

“Never gave it much thought, to be honest. But in all fairness, most of my days were spent drunk and high off my ass, so…”

“You never once wished that you had someone around? Someone to talk to? Spend time with? Get...you know...PERSONAL with.”

“If I wanted that, I could get it. Easily. There was no shortage of that, believe me.”

“You never wanted more than that? I mean, there’s more to life than THAT. What about bonding with someone? Yeah, sex is great, but what about everything else? Companionship. Friendship. Someone to come home to at the end of the day or however long you were gone for some times. Someone that’s just...THERE...you know?”

“I was a fucking mess. Way worse than you could even begin to imagine. Why would I bring someone into that? Why would I do that to someone? Ruin their life like that? They get with me, everything’s great for a while, then they discover just how messed up I am and take off. What would be the point? Bringing someone into that? That’s just wasting their time.”

“Was it about them or you? Not wanting to get involved with someone.”

Arching an eyebrow, Tyler leans against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Seems like maybe you were using all that as excuses. To protect yourself. That maybe you were scared to get too attached. Just in case they DID decide it was too much and run off.”

A slow grin tugs at his lips. “ You’re starting to sound an awful lot like Esme. You’re getting into the psychoanalyzing business too, huh?”

“I’m just saying that maybe it ran deeper than worrying about other peoples’ feelings. Maybe you were worried about your own too.”

“I was dead inside, Des. I wasn’t feeling a damn thing.”

“Except for shame and guilt and regret. And a whole hell of a lot of self loathing.”

“You really ARE spending too much with my wife.”

“I just think it makes sense. You protecting yourself too. But not willing to admit it. At least not out loud. Wouldn’t it have been worth giving it a shot? Finding someone? Seeing if they could put up with everything?”

“I was an alcoholic mercenary with a drug addiction and a death wish. Who would put up with that?”

“Esme, for one.”

“Esme is an entirely different breed all her own. I highly doubt there’s many out there like her. That would willingly hook up with a fucking train wreck and put up with everything I’ve put her through. That I KEEP putting her through.”

“You know, you’re not as bad as you think you are. Do you have some issues? Yeah. But shit, we all do. We’re all a mess. In one way or another. You might be a little messier than most, but…”

“A little? That’s being awfully nice about it.”

“Look, she sticks around, doesn’t she? She’s still here. Twelve and half years later. You really think if things were THAT bad she wouldn’t have hauled ass a long time ago? Didn’t y’all split up for a while?”

“Six months,” Tyler confirms.

“And yet you got back together. She wanted things to work out. Not like she kicked your ass to the curb and hooked up with some other guy. You guys fixed your shit, made things better. She wouldn’t have taken you back if you were that bad. She wouldn’t have put herself or the kids through that.”

“Still a lot for one person to deal with. We’ve been through a lot shit. Way too much, actually.”

“Shit that would have broken weaker people,” Desi points out. “Both of you...separately... are strong as hell. But the two of you together? That’s a force to be reckoned with. And maybe she is a different breed of woman. Maybe it was the way she was raised that made her the way she is. Or the way she WASN’T raised. But let me tell you, she is a tough little thing. Feisty as all hell.”

“Totally a study in contradiction. You see that little body and that cute face and you think she’s all innocent and sweet and the next thing you know…”

“You’re married to her and seven kids?” Desi grins.

“I was going to say the next thing you know, she’s telling you where to go and how to get there and putting you in your place. Totally not what I expected, that’s for sure. Woman that size to be such a challenge. And so fucking bossy. If you heard half the shit that comes out of her mouth…”

“She keeps you on your toes. Challenges you. She’s definitely no push over. Which leads right back to my point. If you were as bad as you think you are, do you really think a woman like her would stick around? Hell no. She’d tell you off and pack her shit and take off. There’s no if’s, end’s, or butt’s about that. You brought that much shit and pain into her life? Things would have never gotten this far.”

“You know, you make a little TOO much sense.”

“I just tell ‘em like I see ‘em. You’re not the massive prick you think you are. Maybe a little bit of one…”

Tyler smirks.

“She showed up right when she was supposed to. That day at your place. Think of all the things in both your pasts that had to go wrong for you two to cross paths. If even just one of things went right, you probably never would have laid eyes on her. And that would have been a damn shame.”

“Yeah,” he nods slowly, considering his friend’s words. “It would have been.”

“The right woman came along at the right time. If your heart and your head didn’t think so, you wouldn’t be where you are now. You wouldn’t have the life you do. Hell, you probably wouldn’t have a life at all.”

“I’d be dead. If Esme hadn’t come along. I don’t doubt that for a second.”

“Daddy!” Addie clomps up the front walk and climbs the porch stairs; abandoning the task of helping her siblings build a messy fort of wet snow. And she wraps both arms around one of his thighs and leans her slight, tiny body into him. “Do we REALLY have to go out?”

“It’s just for a few hours.” He scoops her up into his arms and settles her on his hip. “ Go get some lunch, go see a movie, stop at the candy store. Doesn’t that sound like fun? A day out with Des? You always love your days out with Des.”

“It does sound like fun and I DO love going out with Desi, but…” she curls both arms around his neck and nestles her face against the side of his throat. “...I want to stay with you and mummy. She was gone this morning. And it scared me. That she wasn’t here to do our thing.”

“Well tomorrow you can do your thing. Sometimes OTHER things come up. Can’t help that.”

“And I only got to spend a little bit of time with her because she’s been sleeping a LONG time!”

“She’s only been sleeping an hour. Didn’t you spend some time with her? Didn't you take a bath with her? In the big tub?”

“Yeah, but…”

“I need you to cooperate, okay? Mummy needs some rest. And she can’t really get that with all you guys in the house. Right now, she needs to sleep and when she wakes up, I need to be able to take care of her. And if I’ve got all you guys to take care of, I can’t really do that, can I?”

“Is she sick?”

“She’s a little under the weather.”

“Like a cough due to cold?”

“Nothing like that. She’s just feeling a little rundown. Nothing some quiet time won’t help. So you think you can do me a solid? Go out with a Desi for a bit?”

Addie sighs heavily. “I guess…”

“We’ll have a great time,” Desi promises. “We always do. Mommy and daddy need some time alone. It happens. They’ve got some stuff to take care of.”

Addie reaches for him; allowing herself to pass from one set of arms to another. “Like making a baby?”

“No one is making any babies,” Tyler informs. “Not in this house anyway.”

“Why not?”

“Because our days of making babies are long gone. The shop is closed. All done. That’s it.”

“One more wouldn’t be so bad,” Addie reasons. “Another sister.”

“One more WOULD be bad. And a shock because neither mummy or I can have more babies. Now…” laying a hand on the back of her head, he leans in to press a kiss to the tip of her nose. “....be good. I don’t want any bad reports when Desi gets back.”

“Why you telling me? I’m always good.”

Tyler stares pointedly at his daughter.

“Well, ALMOST always.”

“Remember what I said. No taking off. You stay with Desi. Or with TJ. Got it?”

Addie gives a thumbs up. “Got it!”

“Have fun. And don’t worry about mummy. She’s fine, I’ll take care of her. I promise.”

“You better,” the five year old warns. “‘Cause that’s my mummy and if anything happens to her…”

“Your mummy is in good hands,” Tyler promises. “Daddy knows what he's doing. I’m not some rookie, you know.”

“You be nice to mummy,” Addie orders. “No arguing and no making her cry and no making fun of how tiny she is.”

“You’re kidding me, right? That’s my go to. Making fun of her height.”

“Speaking as a short person, it’s NOT funny. At all.”

“I wonder how funny it will be when I DO pick you and your mum up and put you in my pockets.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Addie’s eyes narrow as she glares at him.

“Don’t give me that look,” He pecks her pouted lips. “You and your mumma both know everything I say, I say because I love you guys. Can I help it that you’re both so tiny and cute?”

“Can we help it that you’re so big and have humongous feet and ears?” Addie counters.

“Ouch,” Desi chuckles. “Savage.”

“She gets that from her mumma. Little, but so full of rage.” He digs his fingers into his daughter’s side, tickling her until the pout turns into a smile and she begins to giggle. “Do I need to remind you that you got my ears? And my feet? You all do.”

“Poor us,” Addie quips, and then squeals and giggles even louder when he brushes his beard against her cheeks.

“I love you,” he says, and presses a kiss to the freckled bridge of his daughter's nose. “Be good, okay? I’m counting on you here.”

“I got this!” She flashes two thumbs up over Desi’s shoulder as he carries her down the stairs. “See you later, alligator!”

“In a while crocodile,” Tyler responds.

“Blow a kiss, goldfish!”

“Bye-bye butterfly.”

“Toodle-loo kangaroo!”

Tyler shoots her a wink and then steps out onto the front porch. Hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie as he watches Desi herd the noisy and excited and noisy bunch out the front gate and then down the slush covered sidewalk. Waiting until they disappear around the corner before heading back into the house.

*****

The shower feels damn good. Hot enough to sting and to cause a new layer of perspiration to form on his skin; gathering at his temples and along his hairline and above his upper lip. The latter he swipes away with the tip of his tongue and then places his palms flat against the tile; chin tucked into his chest and his eyes closed as the water beats down on his weary body. Physically speaking, he feels great; very little pain or tightness across the small of his back, a dull yet manageable ache in his repaired shoulder, the swelling of his right knee not as not as prominent as it usually is. The latter surprises him. He’d pushed himself extremely hard during his run that morning, greatly exceeding anything he’d ever put himself on the treadmill and far beyond the limits the specialists had put on him after his second surgery. And while he knows he shouldn’t ‘test the waters’ and there’s a legitimate risk of ligament tears and dislocations, he’s never been one to play by the rules. Refusing to let anyone confine him to what’s conventionally acceptable; always wanting to prove not only the naysayers wrong, but his own mind and body. An injury he can deal with; another operation and the recovery afterwards a lot easier to bear then the damage to the ego. His physicality has always been of major importance; strength, size, speed, stamina. And he’s had a hell of a time getting back to even seventy percent of where he’d been five years ago. When Nathan had managed to get the jump on him and achieved what no other foe had ever managed: breaking his body and mind.

He refuses to dwell on it. Nothing he can do will ever erase or lessen what happened; his body forever damaged and his entire lifestyle permanently altered. Physical injuries, mental health issues, the constant toeing of the line between addiction and sobriety. And he knows things could be a lot worse; dying that day on the bridge in Dhaka and never getting his second chance. He’d been given an incredible opportunity; an absolution for the mistakes of the past and a whole new life and a bright and content future. But it hasn’t been without its own share of pain and sacrifice and suffering; every blessing coming at an exceptional cost. Ones he’d happily paid and would do so again; willingly putting his own body and sanity on the line if it means keeping his family safe and sound.

A half an hour passes; hot water tank nearly drained when he finally steps out of the shower. Body still damp when he heads into the bedroom; a towel wrapped loosely around his waist and another being used to vigorously dry his hair. Slivers of light manage to trickle through the gap in the room darkening curtains, and he uses it to his advantage; quietly navigating the spacious master suite. She’s been asleep for more than an hour now; on his side of the bed with the heavy comforter pulled up to her chin and her cheek nestled into his pillow. Normally she would have argued with him; pointing out the list of things that -in her always busy mind- needed to be done before her sister’s arrival. But her ‘meltdown’ earlier had left her emotionally exhausted and she hadn’t kicked up even the slightest bit of fuss when he suggested she take time for herself; a long soak in the tub, her favourite ‘comfort’ clothes, a well deserved nap.

It’s been twelve and a half years of sacrifice and compromise on her part; giving up her old life in favour of a new one with him, adjusting to life in a new country only to have it torn apart and be forced back home, reluctantly agreeing to his return to the job and the worry and the stress that came with it. Five pregnancies that resulted in seven amazing and beautiful children; her physical and mental health paying a steep price each time, yet never denying him the desire for a big family. And the times she’s seen him near death. Horrendous injuries inflicted upon him; those long days and nights by his side in various hospitals and eventually the arduous and painful roads to recovery. Yet she’s done it without complaint; throwing herself into caring for him and their family and consistently putting her own well being on the back burner.

Lowering himself cautiously onto the end of the bed, he once more scrubs at his hair and then tosses the towel in the direction of the laundry hamper; sighing when it misses its mark and falls heavily to the floor. While mentally weary, his body feels great; relieved to be relatively pain free and filled with an uncharacteristic optimism. The silver lining within a very dark and immense cloud. A welcome boost of confidence he hasn’t experienced in years; brave enough to consider that maybe...just maybe...the worst is now behind him. And as he studies his reflection in the mirror atop the dresser, for once he’s not finding all the faults. No anger or disgust when his fingers lightly travel over the myriad of scars that inhabit his face, no thoughts of how battered and worn down he appears. Instead he notices that his eyes seem brighter; not as haunted and empty as they’ve been since his return from Cambodia. His face has filled out; the slight weight gain making the lines that accompany aging -and a hard life lived on the edge- not seem as prominent. His chest and arms are bigger; the slightest of flexes stretching the tattoos that decorate the insides of both biceps and shoulders. The positivity is surprising; years spent living in a state of self loathing and speaking self deprecating words long ago taking their toll and reducing him to a man that didn’t give a shit about his personal appearance. As long as he maintained his strength and his quickness and his skills, that had been all that mattered; not giving a second thought to his choice of attire or the thickness of his beard or the unruliness of his hair.

He’s still not what would be considered high maintenance; the opposite of a Desi who spends more time getting ready than the average female and has closets full of insanely expensive high end clothing. Still the most comfortable in bare feet and board shorts; jeans and a simple t-shirt considered ‘dressing up’ in his world. It’s an effortless existence; relaxed and content and low key. And it’s one the entire family -aside from a very ‘girly’ Addie- has adopted. Happy and secure; tucked away at the end of that dead end street and surrounded by nature and the smells and the sounds of the ocean. Their own slice of paradise; hard work, resilience, and a hell of a lot of money turning what had once been a modest residence into their dream home. It will be their ‘happily after after’; the place where they’ll raise their children, spoil their grandkids, and grow old and grey together. And for once, he’s confident that will happen. That they’ll get those moments Esme often speaks wistfully about. When their home is empty and it’s just the two of them; quiet breakfasts on the back deck and dinners down by the water. When there’s more grey in their hair and wrinkles on their faces, yet they still walk along the beach hand in hand or with their arms wrapped around each other; indulging in their bantering and their teasing and stopping to steal kisses in the surf.

And still giving her piggy back rides back to the house.

He feels the mattress shift slightly, and he watches her reflection through the mirror as she adjusts her position in bed. Rolling over onto her back and stretching languorously; a long, content sigh escaping her lips and the heels of her palms pressing into her eyes. When she props herself onto her elbows and looks at him, her hair is disheveled and her eyes are slightly narrowed; a pout of confusion and disorientation capturing her lips.

“Tyler?”

“Yeah?”

“What time is it?”

“Almost one.”

The pout transforms into a frown. “In the afternoon?”

“No. Morning.”

“Smart ass,” she grumbles, and then flops down onto her back. A foot kicks off the heavy comforter in favour of coming in contact with his back; toes slowly brushing along the top edge of the towel. “What are you doing?”

“I was in the shower. Didn’t get a chance to do it when I got home from my run. With everything that happened and you leaving and having to take care of the kids....” his voice trails off. It’s the last thing he wants to revisit. His panic attack in the kitchen, the way his oldest son had sensed the urgency and the stress and stepped up to the plate to care for his little sister, the worry that his wife either wouldn’t return or would walk through the door and tell him that it was over. That he was just too much for her to bear; a heavy and troublesome burden weighing her down.

“Why’s it so quiet?” she asks, and he’s thankful for the change in conversation. “What happened? Did they get a little too feral? Get on your last nerve so you tranquilized all of them?”

“I sold them all. On the black market.”

“I hope you got a good price for them,” she chides, and trails the tip of her big toe along his spine. “I put a lot of work into those kids. Not to mention what my body went through. I think that’s worth a good penny, don’t you? Doesn’t it deserve compensation? My body going to absolute shit?”

“Your body is amazing. It was incredible when we met, and it’s even more incredible now.”

“You really are the most biased husband on earth. My ass is bigger. My hips are wider.”

“You’ve had babies. MY babies.”

“Yeah, I have,” she smiles, and once more props herself up on her elbows. “Only guy in the universe I’d ever give that many spawn too.”

He grins at her through the mirror. “I’m honoured.”

“You should be,” she playfully retorts. “You’re naked under that towel, aren’t you.”

“Well considering I just got out of the shower and I don’t wear board shorts or underwear when I’m in there…”

“Honey, as incredible as your body is and I could lie here all day admiring it, I’m going to need you to put some clothes on. It’s far too tempting to engage in X rated activity when you’re naked. Or next to naked.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. X rated activities. With me.”

“Normally it’s not. But I think I’m PMSing.” That dramatic, adorable pout again. “ I’ve got wicked cramps and I’m feeling bloated as fuck and you know my hesitancy on having sex when all of that is going on. I know it doesn’t faze you and as much as orgasms DO help, it’s just not my jam.”

“Say no more.” Sighing, he gets to his feet; grateful that the normally bone deep pain that resides in his right knee has settled into nothing more than a dull, manageable ache. And he grabs a pair of discarded jeans slung over the back of the chair by the balcony door; releasing the towel from around his waist and tossing it in the direction of the laundry hamper.

“Now that’s just evil,” Esme declares. “You are a bad, bad, BAD man.”

He smirks at her through the mirror. “Why’s that?”

“Don’t play innocent with me. You know exactly what you’re doing. Just dropping the towel like that. That’s so, so, SO mean.”

“Gotta give you something to stare at, yeah?”

“I prefer to call it admiring. And I have done a lot of admiring over the last twelve and half years. You never disappoint, husband.”

“I aim to please.”

“And do you ever hit your mark. Each and every time.”

Grinning, he tugs the jeans up over his hips and ass and tends to the button and zipper; pushing a hand through his damp hair as he approaches the side of the bed. “Move.”

“I like this spot. It’s YOUR spot. It’s got all your grooves in it. It’s comfortable.”

“Yeah, but it’s MY spot. And you know how anal I am about my spot. So haul ass. Please.”

“Grump face,” she mutters, but wriggles her way backward across the bed; rolling onto her hip as he joins her; sliding under the comforter and laying on his side facing her.

“Come here…” Reaching out, he curls an arm around her petite frame and pulls her into him. Hand resting in the middle of her back as his other arm slips under her shoulder; thigh wedging between her legs.. “...I’ll make you feel better, baby. In a non X rated way.”

“You’re so selfless.” She presses her body against his; a hand pushing through his hair and her head tucking under his chin. Eyes closing and a long, content sigh escaping her as she breathes in his familiar scent. Clean and crisp; notes of sandalwood and citrus. “So generous. Where ARE the kids?”

“Desi took them out. Lunch and a movie. Candy bar afterwards.”

“He just offered or....?”

“I called him. Told him you were having a rough day. That I needed some time and some space and some quiet. To take care of my girl.”

A smile plays on her lips as she pulls back to look at him. “Your girl, huh?”

“That’s what you are, aren’t ya? Or would I rather I call you my old lady?”

“I would definitely NOT rather that. I like it; being called your girl. It’s cute. I like the sound of it.”

He presses a kiss to the bridge of her nose. Palm sliding up her back, across her shoulder and then gently cupping the side of her face ; thumb repeatedly brushing against the top of her cheek.

She likes these moments with him. Quiet and content; bodies pressed together in a pure and innocent form of intimacy. The way his gaze never wavers ; as if he's intently studying every inch of her features and committing them to memory. Love and adoration written as plain as day upon his face; the softness of his expression, the gentle touch of a callused palm and fingertips, the tender smile that plays on his lips. A beautiful man with a not so beautiful past. A childhood filled with torment and abuse and anguish and tremendous loss, followed by years of substance abuse and a life lived on the edge; hounded by immense grief and guilt and regret and anxious for death to claim him. It’s no surprise that he has the issues he does; no one can go through a lifetime of trauma and come out of it unscathed. But it’s a shock he isn’t worse than he is. Still filled with so much strength; resilient and brave and never backing down from even the biggest of challenges. Loving and compassionate and sensitive. A striking juxtaposition considering his choice of career. A hardened and highly skilled mercenary that kills as a means to an end, not because he enjoys it.

“So you actually CALLED Desi?” she inquires. “For help? That’s a little...out of character.”

“Didn’t have much of a choice. Your sister won’t be here until later and I wasn’t waiting that long. So I got a hold of him and asked him to do me a favour. If he could take the kids so I could concentrate on you. That’s kind of hard to do when there’s seven plus one under the same roof.”

“That’s HUGE for you. You didn’t just acknowledge and admit you needed help, you actually ACTED on it.”

“What’s so huge about that? I’ve asked for help before.”

“You’ve asked ME for help before. Never someone else. That’s not you, Tyler. You’d rather wear yourself thin or completely burn yourself out than rely on other people.”

“It’s one of my issues,” he admits. “For many reasons. But you know how I always say there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you?”

Esme nods.

“That includes swallowing my pride and asking for help.”

“You doing THAT? THAT’S love right there. And probably some lust, too.”

“There’s a little bit of that in there too,” he teases, and then places a soft, lingering kiss on her lips. Their eyes closing when the tip of his nose comes to rest against her forehead; hand slipping from her cheek and finding the back of her neck, fingers gently and deftly massaging the tense muscles.

For several minutes neither of them speak; basking in the silence and the warmth that radiates from one another's bodies; his slow, even breaths ruffling her hair, hers tickling his bare neck. These moments are rare; the chaos of raising seven children and their respective work schedules and responsibilities. Both are looking forward to her being home more. The opportunity to actually be alone; walks on the beach or time in the water, hikes in the woods or strolls through town. And the road trips. Needing nothing more than gas in the tank and money in their pockets.

*****

“Feeling any better?” Tyler asks, and slips his hand up into her hair; fingertips gently kneading the scalp.

“A little. Have a headache though. Not sure if it’s PMS or my moods or my meltdown earlier. But it’s a bitch. A mean, old bitch.”

He pulls away. Hand moving to the top of her head and fingers pressing on her well known problem areas; along the tops of both brows, the inside corners of her eyes, the bridge of her nose. Attempting to alleviate at least some of the pain and pressure. “Good?” he asks, when she reaches up to push her fingers through his; drawing their joined hands down to her lips and pressing a kiss to the side of his wrist.

She nods, a smile curving her lips. “Good. You and your magic fingers. They certainly know their stuff. In many ways.”

“They have a talent all of their own.”

“They certainly do. MANY talents, actually. Are YOU feeling better?”

“Not bad. My body feels pretty good. Thought maybe I’d be in agony after my run, but…”

“You pushed yourself, didn’t you. HARD. Harder than you’re supposed to.”

“Come on now. Would I actually do something like that? Not listen to the doctor’s orders?”

“You most certainly would. And you definitely have. Be careful, Tyler. Don’t push the limits too much, okay? I realize you know your own body, but you don’t always listen to it. I don’t want you hurting yourself. Screwing something up and needing surgery. AGAIN.”

“I won’t go too hard,” he promises, and pecks her lips. “But right now? I’m taking care of YOU. Not the other way around. You’ve spent a lot of time looking after me. Worrying about me. Probably too much.”

“It’s not like it’s a job or something like that. You’re my husband. I love you. That’s why I do it.”

“And I love you. Which is why I need to step up and take care of you. Don’t be so stubborn, Me. Let me look after you. We’re a team, yeah? We’re supposed to be in this together? Let me pick up some of the slack.”

“It’s a bad habit of mine. Doing everything myself. I mean, in high school I was the one that got saddled with all the work during group projects. My classmates would fuck around and I’d be stuck having to do it all by my lonesome.”

“Well you don’t have to do this by your lonesome. It’s a two way street, right? You and me against the world?”

Nodding, she presses a kiss to his chin, then his lips. “You’re a good husband. I think I’ll keep you.”

“Good. Because I think I’ll stick around. I kinda like it here.”

Smiling, she lays a hand on the side of his face. Her fingers press through his beard; nails lightly scraping along his jaw. “Do you think we could talk?”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing? You already said no naked time, so…”

“I mean a serious talk. Piggybacking off what happened this morning. More specifically, what happened with ME this morning. And WHY it happened.”

“I thought we already talked about it. When you got back. Didn’t realize there was anything more to say. You’re going through some shit. Depression. Probably PTSD. You got a lot of stress. And probably most of that can be blamed on me.”

“I’m not blaming anything on you. I never have. I never will. My brain was screwed up way before you ever came along.”

“I’m sure I made it worse. I’ve put you through a lot of crap. Twelve and a half years of it.”

“We are not doing this. YOU are not doing this. That’s all water under the bridge, Tyler. Things we went through and dealt with. It’s behind us. Can we leave it there? Can YOU? Because it’s not doing you any good; holding onto so much guilt and regret. I don’t want you doing that. That’s the last thing I want, actually.”

“It’s kind of hard NOT to do it. To think back on it all and not see how badly i’ve fucked up.”

“It was all beyond your control. Things went bad. That’s all there is to really say about it. Things went to shit and you reacted badly to them and you made some pretty crappy judgement calls. But we got past all of that. I don’t hold grudges against you. I don’t hate you. Or blame you for anything. It’s time you stop blaming yourself, okay?”

“You know me. I’m willing to try anything once. Except for maybe eating ass. That’s a little too far out of my comfort zone.”

“Well lucky for you, it’s WAY out of mine. But can we? Have a serious talk? Without it turning into a fight? I don’t want to fight with you. We’ve come a long way since those days; everything turning into a big blow out.”

“I don’t want to fight with you, either. But if it’s something THAT serious…”

“I mean, it’s serious but not THAT serious. It’s not life or death or anything. It’s just...I don’t know…” her fingers nervously fidget with the chain around his neck. “...it’s a pretty big deal.”

“Is it about us? Are we having problems I’m not aware of? Is there someone else?”

“No! Oh my god, no. Nothing like that. Other than dealing with our own mental stuff, we are fine. We are MORE than fine. And there isn’t anyone else. There never has been. And there never will be. You’re it for me. For the rest of my life. There’s no one else I want. I could EVER want.”

Smiling, he presses a kiss to her lips.

“It’s to do with me. What’s going on in my head. What HAS been going on in there. And I need you to promise that you won’t freak out. That you won’t hear the worst of it and shut down and lose your temper and…”

He frowns. “Esme…”

“Tyler, I love you. More than you could ever possibly know. And right now, I need you to promise me that you won’t lose it. That you’ll just listen and let everything sink in. Not just hear a bit and react. Can you do that? Promise me?”

He nods. “I won’t lose my shit. Promise. What’s going on? Are you okay? Are you sick? Is there something wrong and you’ve been holding out on me?”

“I’m not sick,” she assures him. “Not physically anyway. It’s all to do with my brain. I’ve struggled for years. Long before I ever met you. And I’ve had some down moments; since we’ve been together. Especially after each of our babies. When postpartum was a real bitch to me. So it’s not like you don’t know what I deal with. In my head.”

“I’ve known for years. You told me pretty much right from the start. A couple days into Dhaka. About having depression. Being diagnosed after your dad died. And I’m pretty sure you’ve got PTSD too. After everything that went on in Bangladesh, ESPECIALLY on that bridge? You can’t say it would be a surprise. If you were diagnosed with it.”

“The furthest thing from a surprise. Now you promise? Not to freak out?”

“I already did. Can we get to it already? Because you stall any longer and my anxiety is going to go off the charts.”

Sighing, she curls a finger around his necklace and gently yanks him into a kiss. Lips lingering on his before finally pulling away. “I lied to you. About a year ago,”

“About…?”

“Do you remember when you were in Brazil? For a couple weeks? The whole drug cartel thing?”

He nods. “What about it?”

“Remember how when you came back, I mentioned a girls weekend. In Cairns. With Riley and Shaena. And how I was worried you’d be pissed because I wanted to go on it? Because you’d been gone for two weeks and me leaving meant we’d only have a couple days together?”

“Yeah, and I was fine with it. You needed a break. I didn’t have a problem with you going. What…?”

“There was never a girls weekend,” Esme admits, and his frown intensifies; deep furrows inhabiting his brow. “We made it up. So you wouldn’t know what was really going on.”

“Babe...what…?”

“I was in the hospital. For three days. And not just any hospital. A psychiatric one.”

“A psychiatric hospital? Why? What…?”

“When you were gone, I had a really bad time. I mean, I always do when you leave. I don’t sleep, I worry constantly, I stress over everything and even little stuff gets on my nerves and drags me down. But this was worse. WAY worse. And even though I knew you were okay and that you were coming home, I still had all that dread, you know? All that worry. Constantly wondering if maybe I’d never see you again. That maybe the last time you walked out the door really WAS the last time.”

“That was an easy job. I wasn’t even out in the field. I was strictly behind the scenes. I never even left the hotel. Not until I had to go get everyone out. I told you I’d stay behind and I did.”

“I know. But I still freaked out. I was still worried. I always worry about you, you know that. And one night it was really bad. I felt like I was losing it. I hadn’t heard from you that day and you didn’t return any of my voicemails or texts and…”

“We had problems with coms. I told you that. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to you. There were legit issues.”

“And I tried telling myself that. That there were issues. But it didn’t help. And I lost it. Badly. I’m pretty sure it was actually a mental breakdown. And I called Riley because I was freaking out and I couldn’t get control of myself. I thought I was going crazy. And I told her that I felt like I was going to hurt myself.”

He blinks at her confession. “What?”

“I don’t think I actually would have done it. I think I was just feeling desperate at that moment. I don’t think…”

“You wanted to kill yourself? You wanted to die?”

“I guess. I don’t know. I was looking for a way out. An escape. And my brain wasn’t exactly in a good place and that’s where it went. Like I said, I don’t think I would have actually done anything. But I called Riley and she came over and stayed with me and the kids. Just in case.”

“What if she hadn’t been around? What if she couldn’t have come over? What if she still lived in Colorado? Would you have done it? Hurt yourself?”

“I don’t know,” she admits. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t THINK so? Esme…”

“I wasn’t exactly thinking right. I was in a really bad way, Tyler. REALLY bad. And I needed help. So I called her.”

“Why didn’t you call ME?”

“What would you have been able to do? You were in Brazil.”

“I would have come home. Right away. I would have dropped everything and had someone else be in charge. Do you really think I wouldn’t have? Come home? There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Why didn’t you call me?”

“You were so far away,” she attempts to reason. “And I needed help right away.”

“I would have talked you down. I would have gotten you through it. Why wouldn’t you get a hold of me? I’m your husband.”

“I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was just thinking in the moment. And getting ahold of you in Brazil wasn’t the first thing that came to my mind. It wasn’t personal. You should know that. That you’re the one person that’s always been able to help me. But you were thousands of miles away and you were busy and I didn’t want to put something else on you. Burden you.”

“Burden me? You’re my wife. You could never burden me. What the fuck, Esme? Why didn’t you at least tell me I got home? Why lie to me? Why make up this whole fucking story about a girls trip? Why…?”

“I didn’t want to put that on you. Especially when you had to stay with the kids. They needed you to be focused and all about them. And you wouldn’t have been able to do that if I told you. I didn’t want you to worry.”

“You didn’t want me to worry? You’re my WIFE.”

“I was trying to protect you. I’m always trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” Tyler argues. “I’m not a fucking child, Esme. I’m a grown ass man. I don’t need you coddling me and babying me and protecting me. I would have stepped up and took care of you. That should have been on me. Not your sister. Not Shaena. Not anyone else. Me.”

“I needed you to take care of the kids. You’d been gone for two weeks and they missed you and I didn’t want them to be without BOTH parents. It’s not personal. I didn’t make the decisions I did to hurt you. I made them to help you. To help our family.”

“How much help would it have been if I’d come home and you were dead on the floor? How much help would it have been if one of our kids had found you? Do you know how bad that would have fucked them up? Losing their mother like that? Do you know how bad it would have fucked ME up?”

“I wasn’t thinking of those things. I wasn’t thinking about anything. That’s the problem. All I wanted was an escape. That’s it.”

“An escape from what? Your shitty life with your shitty husband?”

“No!” She clasps his face in her hands. “I love my life. And my husband. You know what depression is like. It doesn’t care where you live or what you have or how many people love you. It’s all in your head. It’s a fucking monster you can’t escape from. You know EXACTLY what it’s like. I never meant…” her voice cracks with emotion. “...I never meant to hurt you. I would NEVER hurt you. I thought I was protecting you. And I know you say you don’t need me to. And maybe you don’t. But I do it because I love you. Because I want to make things easier on you. That’s all. It’s not to hurt you, Tyler.”

“You can’t try and convince me I’m not broken when you treat me like I am.”

She frantically grabs at the chain around his neck with one hand, his shoulder with the other. “That’s not what I was doing. You AREN’T broken. I don’t treat you like you are.”

“You are when you do shit like that. When you lie to me. Especially about something like this.”

“I’ve never lied to you. About anything. I’ve always been honest. About my childhood, about what Mark put me through, about…”

“What about the guy?”

“What guy? What…?”

“The one you went out with. When we were separated. Took you years to tell me about him.”

She frowns. “There was nothing to tell you. He was just some single dad I met at daycare pick up. That’s it. It was nothing important. Just some guy.”

“That you went out with. While we were still married.”

“Have you been just waiting to throw that in my face? Have you been holding onto that all this time? Just looking for the opportunity to hold that over my head? Why would you…?”

“I was faithful to you. Whether we were going to work shit or not. I wasn’t looking for someone else. I didn’t want another woman. And I could have had one. I could have had tons of them. It wasn’t for lack of opportunity, believe me.”

“Then why didn’t you do it? If you had so many chances. Why didn’t you take any of them?”

“Because I wanted my wife. I didn’t want anyone else. You, Just you.”

“And I wanted you! But you were a fucking mess and I was hurt because you weren’t fighting for me. For your family. So yeah, I went out on a date. Because someone showed interest in me and made me feel special and beautiful and wanted. Because I was hurt and I wanted you to hurt just as much as I was. I was so pissed at you. For not getting your shit together and coming home and fighting for us. So I went out on a date. And I enjoyed it. I enjoyed the attention."

“Did you fuck him?”

“No. I told you what happened. I told you he tried and I turned him down. I told him that I couldn’t do it because I was still in love with my husband. That I was still hoping we could work things out. That’s the truth. And that’s how I got that black eye. Because he didn’t handle the rejection so well. That’s the truth. All of it. I never slept with him. I’ve ever been with anyone but you. For the last twelve and a half years. Just you.”

He nods slowly, letting her words sink in.

“Tyler…” her nails dig into the back of his neck. “...don’t do this...don’t shut me out. Please don’t do that. I don’t want you to do that.”

“What do you want me to say? What…?”

“I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to lie to you. I…” tears flow freely down her face. “...I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry.”

“Come here,” he gently orders, and pushing a hand through her hair, settles it on her back and pulls her into him. “It’s okay, Me. Everything’s okay.”

“I didn’t mean to lie to you. Not about the guy and not about the girls weekend. I was just trying to protect you. I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know you weren’t.” Pressing a kiss to her temple, he rolls over onto his back; both arms wrapping around her and pulling her with him. “And I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have brought that shit up. I haven’t been holding onto it. Or waiting to use it again. I reacted. Badly. And when I do, nothing is off limits. I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to say that shit.”

“It’s okay,” she sniffles, and curls her arms around his neck. “I know how you get. When you hear things you don’t like. But for the record? This is what I meant when I made you promise not to lose it.”

“I am so fucking sorry. I’m an asshole. A huge asshole.”

“No. You’re not. You just have no chill sometimes. I’m used to it. Or fairly used to it, anyway.”

“I never should have said what I did. About the guy you went out with. You had every right to. Go on a date. I wasn’t exactly stepping up. I just lost it. Hearing about you wanting to hurt herself and how you spent time in psychiatric hospital. Kinda kicked me in the nuts, ya know?”

“I was going to tell you,” she says, chin resting on his chest as she looks up at him. “When I got home. But I was feeling so much better and you and the kids were so happy to see me. I didn’t want to ruin that. And then we got on with life and there never seemed to be a good time. So I kept it to myself. It wasn’t to intentionally hurt you., I’d NEVER do that.”

He presses a kiss to her forehead. “I know you wouldn’t.”

“And I don’t mean to treat you like you’re broken. Because you’re not. A little bent, maybe…”

He manages a laugh. “I’ve been put through the ringer a few times. Got a little too many miles on me. Quite the collection of dents and scars going on.”

“They’re beautiful. Every single one of them.” Wriggling further up the bed, she pushes a hand through his hair; tightly gripping the longer locks as she pecks the corner of his mouth. “I’m sorry, Tyler. That I lied to you. I had good intentions. I really did.”

“You always do.” He curls an arm around her neck and kisses her. Long and soft and sweet; tasting the salty tears that linger across her top lip. “It’s okay, Me. Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m sorry.” He tangles his fingers in her hair, gently pushing her head back down onto his chest. “ Has it happened again? Feeling the way you did? Have you wanted to hurt yourself? Or worse?”

“No. I haven’t felt that way since. I’ve been depressed, but not like that.”

“And you’d tell me? If you did feel that way?”

She nods.

Sighing heavily, he places a forearm over his eyes. Lying in silence and feeling her body tremble against his; knuckles repeatedly ghosting along her spine as he attempts to get a grasp on the situation. Her mental health issues have never been a secret; she’s been on medication for years and has occasionally needed it to be tweaked. But to hear that she’d been THAT low? Considering hurting herself? Or even attempting something more permanent? It’s devastating. Feeding right into his worst fear. The thought of losing her to an event totally beyond his control. A wedge of emotion settles in his throat and tears prick his eyes; the realization of how close he’d come to losing. But he fights it off. Needing to stay strong for her. Always willing, ready, and able to put his own problems aside. Her rock and her protector.

“Tyler?” Her voice is impossibly tiny. Apprehensive. Scared.

“Yeah, babe?”

“I love you. So much. You’ll never know how much.”

Smiling, he slides his palm to the back of her neck and drops a kiss on the top of her head. “I love you too.”

#Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction fan fiction #Chris Hemsworth #Chris Hemsworth Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake x OFC #Tyler Rake fan fic #Extraction fan fic #Tyler and Esme series

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humansofjcuhealth · 5 years

Text

Neurologist Craig Costello’s tips for Graduating Doctors

Dr Craig Costello is a Consultant Neurologist living and working in Townsville. Dr Costello completed his early physician training in the north, before returning to Townsville with his young family on completion of his specialist training.

He’s a Staff Specialist at the Townsville Hospital and the Deputy Director of Physician Training. He’s also a Visiting Medical Officer at the Mater Hospital in Townsville and a Regional Examiner with the Royal Australian College of Physicians. Dr Costello established North Queensland Neurology in 2012.

This is what he had to say to JCU’s sixth-year students about to embark on their medical careers…

“Medicine is a great career, a career providing privilege for you and your children (especially if you create them with another doctor). It is fun, rewarding and at times challenging. But with privilege comes responsibility only some of which is covered by the Hippocratic Oath you are soon to take.

I have looked back over the last fifteen years at my experiences, my actions, my observations and tried to craft some rules of guidance to give you. Hopefully, these stand you in good stead and maybe in fifteen years when one of you gives this talk you can look back and rewrite them. They’re my opinion, not science.

Rule 1

Don’t Be A dick.

All the times I have seen issues in my career they revolve around someone being a dick. In university, junior training, hospital politics and in business. Most of this behaviour comes from arrogance, a misplaced belief that one is better than others, an inability to believe you could be wrong, or that there could be a better way.

I can guarantee that in every situation, everybody else picks it and sees. Nurses, other doctors, allied staff, administrators and even patients. They will tolerate you but not help you. You may at times be the biggest cat in the room, but you will be judged by how you treat the weakest kitten. We all at times have less than exemplary behaviour and can apologise for that. No one is perfect. But don’t make a personality or habit of it. A good friend of mine is a colonel in the army and provides a saying… If you are in a room and have not worked out who the dick is, then it’s probably you. Don’t be it, not now, not ever.

Rule 2

Continue to always be a student

You have achieved and learnt so much to be here. The last six years is the ticket to the real ride, the merry go around, the roller coaster that is the practice of medicine. You have completed your pre-apprenticeship, the core knowledge to allow you to learn your job.

Your internship will seem hard, you will feel like you know nothing. That’s normal so roll with it. Don’t be afraid.

You will always learn if you look for the opportunities to learn. Learning comes from mistakes. As a doctor, you will make many. We are terrible at getting things right. That is clinical medicine. As an intelligent person, you will mark yourself harder than anyone. Don’t!

Learn from your mistakes and learn from others as well, especially your consultants because we still make mistakes. Be a lifelong learner from both knowledge and experience. You are your number one teacher, your patients are your number two, and colleagues are number three.

Rule 3

Be a communicator.

We are good at tolerating the uncertainty, our patients are not and it is a core responsibility to explain, to be honest, and to communicate.

The abundance of medical information easily available is insurmountable. More has been published in the past five years than in history prior. A ready resource when writing a graduation speech, though a heap of it is complete rubbish, potentially like some of this speech.

Patients, even those not seriously ill, are often desperate to understand, to know. They find this information and conclude wrongly from it, causing more harm than good. Those providing this information pray on the vulnerable. Don’t get me started on black salve or coffee enemas treating cancer! Patients do this in a vacuum of not understanding. Our greatest role is to communicate and explain the uncertainty, the plan and why, to be an advocate for our patient is a privilege.

Rule 4

Whilst communicating, be human and be a human.

In about second-year medicine a fellow student said terrible things happen to nice people. I give you neurology and medicine in general. We don’t control fate but we can impact more than any cyclone by being human to our patients and their families. Acknowledge their situation, understand their point of view as it drives their decisions. You may not agree, but it is theirs and it is real. Work with your patients rather than against them. If they know you are in their corner, they will invest.

Rule 5

Don’t forget yourself and each other.

You are humans, not robots. You have feelings, emotions. When challenged discuss then openly. Medicine is fun and rewarding but at times it is challenging. The chips will be down in medicine and in life sometimes simultaneously. The pressure to perform, or train, or do a good job is always there. Our harshest critic is our number one teacher, ourselves. You need to recognise this and reach out for a different perspective for support. We need to openly offer support to each other as sometimes it is not asked for.

Sadly, at times medicine is made unnecessarily harder by our colleagues and I don’t know why the only people that understand what we do can be the most unkind to their very own. Are they scared? Of What? Do they sleep better at night? I don’t know, but they won’t when a colleague takes their own life.

Nothing is worth a life lost. We all have a different level of resilience. I have seen some tolerate stuff that I would have wilted from. Resilience does not make behaviour acceptable.

So if you find difficulties, others are here. Speak up, speak loud, call me.

And commit with me now to not perpetrate or participate in such. Don’t be a dick.

Rule 6

You are a leader, embrace and use it for good.

You are now a leader in the community. This degree, this title, elevates you to a position of trust and authority within society’s eyes. Embrace this privilege and use it for good, not status. Have an opinion but let it be challenged and adapt appropriately.

As Doctors, we are the health system, and it is in desperate need of leaders and leadership. It is your future and your career. Be active in leadership roles. Your medical staff association, medical representative groups, interest groups, policy committees. People value your contribution, and if you want to complain you need to contribute.

Doctors need to lead the changes for the sustainability of our universal health system. So our children and future generations have the privilege that we enjoy.

Rule 7

Stand up for your female colleagues

Apologies ladies but this one is for the gentleman. Gentleman stand up and stay standing.

You have all just stood up for your female colleagues. Continue to do so throughout your careers.

Sadly sexism remains rife in medicine despite women making up 50 per cent of doctors. Surreptitious but real reduction in opportunity, inflexible training and work, non-meritorious inferiority is all wrong.

Yes, women bear children, but this is not a woman’s issue and I for one am sick of it been painted as such. This is a men’s issue and a family issue. We men need to be the change. To change our attitudes, to call out the subtle and not so subtle sexism, to step back from work and into the home making sure our children benefit from fathering as well as mothering, whilst ensuring our populations have access to the best health care man or women can give.

Rule 8

Make your career in the regions and find your niche.

After six years, maybe many more, right now you want to fly the coup. Do it, at least at some point, after you have been part of our now wonderful physician training program. Live life, travel, seek fun and adventure, take opportunities but return. Return here or to another region. Regions are the future of this country and medicine. The opportunity to be what you want to be, to provide to grow to have that work-life balance.

Townsville could be the centre of redesigning our health system to be sustainable. Our leaders just don’t know it. You could be part of it.

Or you could trip over other doctors while paying lots for housing, spending heaps of time getting to and from work and kissing backsides to get somewhere. Don’t kiss backsides, but find your niche. There is a hierarchy in everything but it should not be hard. It is about respect not worship. If you are kissing too much backside people will see it, it probably won’t work and it’s not the environment for anything to flourish, especially your career.

Rule 9

Don’t undervalue yourself or your colleagues.

Whatever you or anyone else does, we all have value to contribute. So let us see that value, others may not agree with your ideas but they are valuable. There is no room for arrogance in medicine, this career is not a pissing competition. Those that display arrogance, especially towards their colleagues, have the problem.

Cultivate relationships and friendships in medicine. Medical who wants to be a millionaire “it is easier to refer to a friend”, or someone nice. As a specialist, I value my GP specialist referrers as they keep patients from my door.

Whether you be a GP, surgeon, physician, academic or other, you are valuable to the future so don’t sell yourself short even in your training. Some think radiologists are undervalued, but as my wife says at least they earn a million bucks.

At the same time don’t undervalue others, especially nurses. They know way more about your patients than you do. They also know where the chocolates are kept. Respect their opinions and let them into your silo. It is how your silo becomes bigger and how your patients gain greater benefit.

You have your medical degree now and nobody can take it off you, ever. It took advanced training in two of Melbourne’s best hospitals to help with my imposter syndrome. People get sick following the same textbook in Melbourne as we do in NQ.

Rule 10

Be a physician, be a teacher.

This one is full of personal and attribution bias. Being a physician is the best part of medicine. Maybe I say this because I am useless with my hands and the idea of a PhD never grabbed me. You don’t need a PhD to be successful. You need to find your passion and clinical medicine is mine. A PhD is a wonderful achievement but not all of medicine. So find your passion. Your passion may drive a PhD and better the place from there.

I became a teacher by accident, or at least without knowing I was one. Teaching is fulfilling, it is the giving of knowledge and understanding that can grow into amazing things. I learnt this catching up with an old school teacher whom I hold in the highest regard. Twenty years from school and our last contact, and ten months from completing my training he remained one of the most important people outside of my parents to influence my life. I sought him out to thank him. But in his eyes, I had already thanked him as the greatest thanks is knowing past students flourish and achieve their best. You will have many students but your most important are your patients. Pass on what you know, watch them flourish and achieve their best.

Rule 11

Back to where it all began…

Ten is a nice round number, plus one equals 11 and so it is almost time for me to finish. You may have learnt little and will remember even less. That does not worry me.

Like a book much has been said between the covers and the details are sketchy but the plot is recalled. So if nothing else, recall the plot of this little talk throughout your career. A medical degree does not make you better than anyone else, humility is underrated in medicine and we need more of us to display it. So Don’t Be a Dick!

Get out there, go for it, and love it. Use this title, this career, this privilege to enjoy your life but most importantly, use it to leave a better place, not just a bigger place.

Congratulations again.”

- Dr Craig Costello, Neurologist

#JCU Medicine #JCU #James Cook University

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