Page 8 of Love Limits

“How’s that feel?”

Ash couldn’t make out his answer, but it sounded affirmative. They’d ask again when they made their way back around to the other side of the wheelchair and could see his lips.

“Alright,” they continued as they moved to the other elbow. “I’m going to put a note in your file for the doctor to check drug interactions. Your new meds could be causing the flare up. How did the lotion feel?” Right now it was just a moisturizer with vitamin D, but if it got worse he might need to move to corticosteroids or something.

“Better. Still itches, though. Not as bad as the numb toes.” Ash would have to check that, too. Mr. Isling looked at them. “You want my advice? Don’t get old. It’s not worth a damn.”

Ash snorted. Mr. Isling liked to slip in stereotypical old people phrases, like he was a caricature of himself. The other nurses just didn’t appreciate his humor. “There go all of my plans. You want to go out to the garden today?”

His eyes twinkled. “I want to hear about how you’re going to paint the town. Show the two of them you have better things to do than sit around and mope.”

That really was sweet of him. “I’ve already got a hot date planned with a bowl of ice cream.”

“That sounds like a cold date,” he chuckled, slowly lifting one eyebrow for effect.

Ash laughed, knowing how proud he was of his horrible old-person humor. It was only funny because he said it ironically.

“You need some hot blood.” Good grief.

“Maybe not for a while. It’s hard to find someone to date.”

“Yeah, yeah. There’s someone out there who will want you even though you’re Deaf and–” he waved his hand around vaguely “–a transgender. Did I say that right?”

Ash considered how to respond. Was he messing around or actually asking for information? It would be just like him to intentionally say it incorrectly, just to tease. Ash wouldn’t be offended if he was, because he was one of the few who used their pronouns correctly.

Most of the staff and patients had decided on binary pronouns for Ash, either he or she, and the fight to correct them was exhausting. There were only so many times they could remind the same well-meaning people who just forgot. The nurses usually tried but some of the doctors got pissy about it, like it wasn’t worth their time to think about.

Ash decided to take the question at face value. “I use the term genderqueer or gender non-conforming.”

“Young people,” Mr. Isling commented. “All those new-fangled words.” He’d totally known. Ash got played.

“Tell me about your toes,” they countered.

“I’m trying to be encouraging.” He let out a slow, breathy laugh. “You’re young. Need to get up to some mischief.”

Ash shook their head. “No mischief for me. I’m…” they were going to say too old, but that was just inviting a slew of bad aphorisms. They knew that twenty-nine wasn’t old, but they’d realized in the past year that they were ready to settle down. “I’m done with that.” They wanted commitment. Someone who would stay.

Mr. Isling gave them a skeptical look. “I’ll let it go for now.”

Phew. “Excellent. Now tell me about your toes. Where does it hurt?”

“They’re numb. I can’t feel them. They were stinging last night, but I don’t like the night nurse, so I waited for you.”

Ash sighed. “You have to tell her if there’s a problem. Otherwise she can’t help you.” They knelt in front of the wheelchair where they could still see Mr. Isling’s face. “Both feet or one foot?”

Mr. Isling sighed. “More on the left.”

Ash slid off his shoe, followed by the sock. They couldn’t make a diagnosis, but they could at least determine if it was an emergency and get accurate information to report to the doctor. It was almost certainly diabetic peripheral neuropathy, which meant that the team hadn’t been managing his blood sugar closely enough. Mr. Isling’s picky eating didn’t help.

They squeezed the biggest toe, the joints gnarled and skin rough under their fingers. “Can you feel this?”

“A little bit.” He took a deep breath before speaking again. “It’s tingly.”

“Good.” Well, it wasn’t good exactly, but it wasn’t an emergency and the doctor could sort out the rest when she did her rounds in a few hours.

Ash grabbed the lotion and a stool. It couldn’t hurt to apply some moisturizer and get Mr. Isling’s circulation going. They had the time this morning.

“So, what’s the gossip on the floor?” they asked.