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If Minghao had to have an adrenal crisis, he would always rather it was at home with his members to comfort him. He would want the symptoms to be clear so that when he lost awareness, he could trust his family to take care of him.
Sometimes, Minghao wasn’t so lucky, and he would go into adrenal failure at the worst times.
Touring had always been a pain in the ass for Minghao. It felt great getting onto the stage and putting loads of effort into the dances, only to finish with a huge encore, Carats hyping them up as they messed around on stage. What was terrible was after the concerts, when they returned to their hotel rooms in the early hours of the morning with a throbbing headache and not enough water to satiate their thirst.
Minghao’s least favourite destination to tour was Mexico.
Mexican fans were some of the kindest, most enthusiastic Carats in the world. It was the location of Mexico City that he hated as it added a whole new factor of issues into the mix.
Altitude sickness.
The members were going to travel from their previous location early to have an extra day of acclimatisation before their performance. They were going to spend the day practising to get used to dancing in the heat and at that altitude.
In the morning they were given time to put their luggage in their hotel rooms and have a look around the city. Minghao only made it to the hotel room when he sat down on the floor beside the door, panting for oxygen as Junhui set down his bag on their bed. Once he’d caught his breath, Minghao decided not to look around the city and stay in the hotel room until practice.
The extra day of practice didn’t mean much to Minghao, as within a few hours, he and a few members were already using oxygen masks.
Minghao was sat out for most of the rehearsals, gasping and panting into the oxygen mask between every dance to try and take in all the oxygen he needed for the next dance.
Wonwoo and Junhui were also using the masks, but not nearly as much as Minghao, and never for as long.
When Minghao felt up to dancing again, he would join in, only to sit out the next few dances to lie down and wait for a dizzy spell to pass while taking in as much oxygen as possible.
It was concerning their choreographer and manager to see just how much Minghao was needing the masks to stop him from fainting. At one point, Minghao’s body almost gave in, Mingyu grabbing him as he went limp and dragging him over to the oxygen tanks to slip a mask over his face.
Mingyu got him seated on the floor and put the mask over his face, brushing back Minghao’s bright red hair so it was tucked behind his ear.
Their choreographer sat down with him while the others went over the dance with Soonyoung.
“Minghao, if you can’t perform, don’t push yourself.” She said, gaze fixed on Minghao’s slightly distressed eyes.
Minghao shook his head. “No, I can do it. It’s just my cortisol playing up again. I’ll keep an eye on it tonight and make sure I can perform. I promise I can perform. I can’t disappoint Carat.”
Their choreographer sighed. “Fine, get through the choreo for HOT and we’ll let you perform, no oxygen mask at the end.”
Minghao shook his head, still struggling to breathe. “I can’t without the mask. I can’t do it right now, my cortisol must be really low.”
The choreographer shook her head. “If you can do it, I’ll be impressed and won’t argue with you more, alright? Just try one more time.”
Minghao shook up, turning off the oxygen tank and joining the rest of the group to run through HOT.
Minghao was struggling so much by his chorus, eyes unfocused and hands trembling. At the end of the song, Minghao’s legs gave out, and Mingyu grabbed him for the second time to drag him over to the oxygen masks.
Junhui grabbed Minghao’s bag, bringing it over and using the glucometer to check Minghao’s blood sugar while Mingyu kept talking to Minghao, keeping him as awake and alert as possible.
Minghao’s blood sugar came up as 49mg/dL, so Junhui gave him four dextrose tablets to suck on while he spoke to their choreographer.
“He’s hypoglycaemic, that’s why he couldn’t do the dance. He really wants to do the performance. Can we just see how he is tomorrow after some rest?”
Their choreographer gave in and let Junhui take Minghao back to the nearby hotel.
When they got to the hotel, Junhui got Minghao into his nightclothes, which just consisted of boxers and an oversize shirt, and got Minghao into bed, lying down beside him and ruffling his red hair.
Minghao sounded like he was struggling to breathe.
“Babe, if you have serious trouble breathing in the night, and I cannot stress this enough, wake me up. If you get chest pains or throw up, wake me.”
Minghao nodded, tucking his body close to Junhui’s. “I will. I promise.” He whispered, closing his eyes and letting Junhui hold him close.
———————
The next day, SEVENTEEN had their first concert.
Minghao woke up very dizzy and light-headed, feeling like the world spun around him with every step.
His head was pounding, so in an attempt to stop the pain, Minghao downed a few glasses of water, avoiding breakfast completely.
On the bus on the way to the venue, Minghao almost threw up, letting Jeonghan hold him and reassure him that he was okay.
Minghao didn’t understand why he was feeling so bad. He had taken his medication. He had been drinking water. Why did his body not agree with Mexico City?
Once they were at the venue, Minghao was forced to see the doctor, who simply passed it all off as mild altitude sickness, claiming he had seen worse and that Minghao was okay to perform.
During their rehearsals where they went over positions and more difficult parts of the songs as well as transitions and dress rehearsals, Minghao was using the oxygen mask a lot, often sitting backstage with the plastic dome held to his mouth between takes.
The actual performance was so much worse.
As soon as they took their first break, Minghao headed to the oxygen tanks, desperately gasping for oxygen for a minute before getting changed.
Jeonghan took him off to the side, pleading with him to stay off the stage.
Minghao defiantly shook his head, mumbling something about being okay before heading back on stage.
For the next break, he did the same thing, but while he was sitting on the floor with an oxygen tank beside him, he heard their managers talking. They were talking about evacuating Minghao to a lower altitude, giving him anxious glances.
Minghao ignored them, putting down the mask and going to get changed into his next outfit.
It was on their final break that Minghao’s body finally gave in, forcing him to give up.
Minghao came off stage gasping desperately for air, an arm looped over Junhui’s shoulders to stop him from falling over.
Junhui sat Minghao down beside the oxygen tanks, slipping a mask over his face as he muttered quietly to Junhui.
“Can’t breathe. Help…” Minghao whispered, voice desperate and eyes wide with fear.
One of the managers ran off to find the medical staff while another left to call for an emergency evacuation, their third manager, the new performance team manager, stayed beside Minghao and Junhui.
Manager Yang brought over Minghao’s bag and seizure kit just in case, taking a seat beside Junhui and Minghao to listen to Minghao’s desperate gasping.
“Minghao, you have some serious altitude sickness right now and it’s going to start affecting your adrenal insufficiency soon. We need to evacuate you to somewhere below 1700 meters quickly. Alright? We’re calling for an emergency evac to a nice hotel somewhere where you won’t be as sick. I’m sure Junhui can come with you. Once you’re at a lower altitude, we can wait for the other members to finish their concerts and get back down to an altitude where you won’t be sick at all. Is that okay?” The manager explained, rubbing a hand up and down Minghao’s back.
“Cortisone…” Minghao gasped, voice too quiet and slurred for either of the men to understand. “I need… Injection…”
Junhui pressed a kiss to Minghao’s forehead. “Honey, just breathe. I’m sure you’ll feel better in a few minutes.” He whispered, clearly not understanding what Minghao had said.
Minghao shook his head, making an uncoordinated snatch for his bag. “Shot… I need.”
Manager Yang, pushed Minghao back so he was sitting upright. “Minghao, say that again. We didn’t hear you.”
“I need… my cortisone… injection… failure…” Minghao said, voice breathless as his eyes rolled back in his head and he fell limp in Manager Yang’s arms.
Junhui grabbed Minghao’s bag, pulled out the injection kit and started to prepare it.
It seemed to take way too long to prepare the injection, and only a minute after Minghao fainted, his body tensed up and started convulsing, eyes wide and drool pouring from his mouth.
Since their last incident, Minghao’s managers had all received first aid training for seizures and on how to administer Minghao’s emergency injections.
True to his training, manager Yang turned Minghao on his side, cushioning his head with the pillow in Minghao’s seizure kit and making sure Minghao was breathing properly.
Once the injection was prepared, Junhui gave it straight to Minghao, sticking the needle into his leg and pressing down on the plunger.
When Minghao stopped seizing, there was a puddle of saliva and blood under his head from where he’d bitten his cheek, but it definitely wasn’t the worst seizure he’d ever had.
Just as the seizure finished, the medical staff ran over, bringing their first aid kits to try and calm Minghao down and help him wake up.
Junhui had gently moved Minghao so his head was resting in his lap, oxygen mask still fixed over his head. Junhui was using one of the small towels in Minghao’s bag to wipe away the blood and saliva from Minghao’s face, gently playing with Minghao’s bright red hair as he did so.
It took Minghao a good five minutes to wake up, and when he did, he was so tired and confused.
The medical staff made way for some paramedics as they entered, speaking Spanish to the medical staff.
Minghao whimpered at the sound of the foreign language, moving for the first time since the end of the seizure to curl up in Junhui’s lap.
“Can someone please tell us what’s going on? In Korean.” Junhui yelled at the staff, covering Minghao’s pixie ears when he flinched.
Their manager turned back to Junhui. “I speak a bit of Spanish. What’s obvious is the altitude and the strenuous exercise are messing with his adrenal insufficiency. They’re saying that Minghao needs to be evacuated down to a lower altitude to stop him from getting worse.”
Minghao whimpered softly as Junhui brushed back his hair again.
“HaoHao, baby. We need to get you to a lower altitude quickly. Before you get sicker. You’ve already had a seizure.” Junhui whispered, moving the oxygen mask to clean up Minghao’s face properly.
“They’re going to call an air ambulance to evacuate you.” Manager Yang said, getting up to go and alert the rest of the members. “Junhui, I suggest you take his blood sugar reading and keep a close eye on him.”
Junhui nodded, grabbing Minghao’s glucometer and gently taking Minghao’s finger to prick it with the lancing device.
Minghao whimpered softly as the needle breached the skin of his finger, but didn’t move too much as Junhui checked his blood sugar with the glucometer.
58mg/dL.
“You’re a bit low, honey. Let's take some dextrose tablets, yeah?”
Minghao opened his mouth for Junhui as he placed two of the tablets on Minghao’s tongue.
The paramedics moved a little closer, putting a small clip on Minghao’s index finger to check his heart rate and oxygen saturation.
Minghao’s heart rate was racing and he was still panting into the mask, occasionally coughing loudly. His oxygen saturation was low.
“He has hypoxemia.” One of the paramedics told Junhui. “Low oxygen saturation in the blood. He’s really struggling to breathe right now so he’ll need to stay on the oxygen when the helicopter arrives. I believe they are evacuating you to Jalpa.”
Minghao looked too confused to know what was going on, still lying on the floor with his head on Junhui’s thigh, letting Junhui pet his red hair. He looked too tired to stop Junhui anyway, even if he wanted to.
It took ten minutes for the helicopter to arrive, and when it did, two air ambulance paramedics entered the room to take over from the current paramedics.
They got Minghao onto a gurney, letting Junhui lay a blanket over him as they prepared to move him to the helicopter.
Junhui was allowed to get in the helicopter with them, something he was very thankful for.
In the helicopter, the paramedics got Minghao on a stronger oxygen supply and hooked him up to an ECG to keep an eye on his heart rate.
During the hour-long flight, Minghao had another seizure. It came on really suddenly. One moment he was complaining about a headache and feeling dizzy and the next he was thrashing and kicking on the small bed in the helicopter, straining against the straps holding him down.
An injection of hydrocortisone and glucose was enough to have him lying still again, but he was still really confused when he woke up ten minutes later.
The helicopter landed in a hospital in Jalpa and they were met by three doctors when they left the air ambulance.
Junhui had no clue what was going on, tagging along but having no knowledge of Spanish.
From what Junhui could see, the doctors got Minghao hooked up to two IVs for dextrose and some hormones, while also making sure his oxygen saturation was too low and increasing the oxygen he was getting.
The doctors were talking in Spanish, something that usually would have distressed Minghao if he wasn’t so out of it. Minghao liked to know what was going on during the worst of his adrenal failures, and if he didn’t, he always got distressed.
Junhui moved closer, taking a seat beside Minghao’s bed to hold his hand and play with his hair.
“HaoHao, I know you’re scared but just hold on. The doctors are going to make you feel better. I know it’s been hard but you can relax now. We’re at a lower altitude and the doctors are going to give you more hormones to help you.” Junhui whispered, petting Minghao’s hair and adjusting the oxygen mask so the plastic wasn’t digging into Minghao’s nose.
Minghao watched Junhui, eyes dazed and unfocused, half-closed but still awake.
Minghao squeezed Junhui’s hand, weak but there.
Junhui glanced down at the pulse oximeter on his finger. It read 85% blood saturation. Junhui knew that 90% was considered low so Minghao must have been suffering.
As Junhui watched Minghao fall asleep he could only think one thing.
Minghao was going to get better. He had to.
———————
Minghao didn’t wake up for a few hours once he fell asleep. It was almost seven in the morning by the time the rest of the members arrived at the hospital, and Junhui had been asleep since two.
Doctors had been in and out of the room all night, and once Minghao’s body took in enough oxygen to get his blood saturation back up, he stopped wheezing and his skin regained its colour.
When the other eleven members arrived, they were guided upstairs and shown to Minghao’s room.
One thing about SEVENTEEN was that it was impossible for them to be silent, something Junhui hated at times like these.
Minghao was woken almost immediately by Seungkwan’s voice and then he had Mingyu practically leaping onto him.
“Be careful! He’s still fragile.” Junhui scolded, smacking Mingyu with a pillow as he clambered under the covers with Minghao.
The Chinese boy didn’t seem to mind. He wrapped his arms around Mingyu’s torso, knocking the oxygen mask slightly.
“Hao, the doctor said he would swap the mask for a nasal cannula when you woke up,” Junhui said, leaving to go and fetch the doctor.
While Junhui was gone, the other members took the chance to say how happy there were to see him and give him loads of hugs and kisses.
When Junhui returned, the doctor quickly swapped Minghao’s mask with a much more comfortable cannula, looping the tube behind his ears and under his nose to keep giving him some extra oxygen.
Once the doctor left, the group moved closer, some sitting on the floor and a few members perching on the bed.
“I’m sorry I scared you guys,” Minghao whispered, voice still sore from all the wheezing.
There were immediate protests from the eleven other members, Junhui taking Minghao’s hand and taking the chance to glance at the pulse oximeter still clipped to his finger.
It was reading 96%. Much higher than the previous night so Junhui was happy.
“You don’t need to be sorry. Nobody knew you were going to have such a hard time. All it means is that we now know that you shouldn’t be doing concerts in Mexico City. We have our second concert tonight but you can miss out. Your manager can stay with you.” Seungcheol explained, glancing over at the performance team manager who had just walked in.
Manager Yang nodded. “I’ll keep an eye on you. Can’t be letting you have any more seizures, right?”
Minghao nodded, tugging at the cannula slightly. “‘M tired. Do you think I can have some quiet time? Maybe just a few members in here at once. Maybe three or four at most, plus Junhui.”
Everyone agreed and decided that Seungcheol, Jeonghan, Mingyu and Seokmin should stay with Junhui and Minghao.
The others decided to go scour for vending machines and see what the cafeteria had to offer.
“So, HaoHao. Are you feeling better this morning?” Seungcheol asked, taking a seat on the edge of Minghao’s bed and leging a hand on Minghao’s knee through the thin blanket.
Minghao nodded. “Much better. I feel like I can take full breaths. Yesterday it felt like there was something pressing on my chest and I couldn’t breathe properly. It was kinda scary.” He admitted, hands fiddling with the cannula tubes.
Jeonghan took Minghao’s hand, pulling them away from the tubes. “We’re just glad you’re feeling better. Seeing you with the oxygen mask was scary. A few other members were using the masks at the end but no one couldn’t breathe like that.”
“Plus, now we can mess with you again. The managers wouldn’t let us near you yesterday. Claimed you had a short fuse.” Seokmin joked.
Everyone laughed quietly except Junhui.
“Seriously, you mess with him before he’s discharged and you answer to me and the Hyungs.” Junhui threatened, a smile playing on his lips.
Everyone burst into laughter, Minghao clutching his chest when he laughed too hard.
“Alright. I think that’s enough for one day.” Seungcheol announced, giving Minghao a concerned look.
Minghao closed his eyes, lying back to take in some more oxygen.
“You okay, hao?” Mingyu asked, voice soft and slightly frightened.
Minghao nodded. “Yeah.” He gasped. “Still just a little hard to breathe. I’ll be alright in a minute.”
Everyone agreed to leave the room and let Minghao get some more rest, placing gentle kisses on his face and leaving him and Junhui alone.
“Are you sure you’re alright? You still look a little pale.” Junhui asked, standing in case he needed to get a doctor.
Minghao nodded, finally catching his breath. “Just laughed a bit too much. I’m fine now.”
Junhui smiled sadly. “Alright. Why don’t you get some more sleep? I’ll keep an eye on you.”
Minghao patted the bed beside him. “Lie with me.”
Junhui smiled and climbed into the bed, holding Minghao close in his arms.
“I’ll be right here when you wake up,” Junhui whispered, playing with Minghao’s red hair and being careful not to mess up the nasal cannula.
Minghao hummed softly, closing his eyes and falling asleep in a matter of minutes.
———————
Minghao was discharged later that evening while the rest of the members were at the concert.
Junhui had left a few hours ago, so Manager Yang took Minghao back to the hotel, helping Minghao with his bags that had been brought down from Mexico City.
Minghao was still a little unsteady from his adrenal crisis, occasionally stumbling but catching himself.
When they got to the hotel, Minghao dropped his bags and got straight into bed, letting manager Yang wander off to the other room to make some food for them.
Minghao would stay in one of the rooms while Manager Yang would take the couch in the other room. They just needed to wait for the other members to get back from their concert, and then they were going to do the six and a half hour journey from Mexico City to Jalpa. Once they were in Jalpa, they would pick up Minghao and head another hour and a half to the nearest airport to return to Korea.
Once Minghao was settled in bed, he sent Junhui a text saying he had been discharged and was feeling much better and went to sleep.
———————
At around seven the next morning, Minghao was woken up by Manager yang telling him the rest of the group would be arriving soon.
Minghao threw on some of the clothes he’d picked out for the airport and followed Manager Yang down to the waiting minibus.
Minghao was greeted back with more hugs from the members and a very relieved kiss from Junhui.
Minghao sat in the front of the bus beside Junhui and the bus set off on the hour and a half journey to the nearest airport.
Minghao was shocked to discover just how many issues had been brought up. If another member had fallen less sick and hadn’t needed urgent treatment, none of the issues would have come up, but as it was Minghao and his adrenal insufficiency, they were some bigger issues. Because Minghao had been evacuated a long way away from the city, they’d had to rearrange the group’s flights as bringing Minghao back to Mexico City after what happened was out of the question.
Most of the members were asleep by the time they reached the airport, including Minghao and Junhui. Nobody was happy to be woken, but they all stumbled out of the minibus and into the airport.
Minghao was trying his best to act like everything had been alright the past few days, but it was so difficult when so many reporters were asking how he was feeling.
Minghao was moved to the centre of the group to avoid being swarmed or separated from the group.
Once they were out of the crowds and into the private lounge, Junhui checked in with Minghao to make sure he was feeling alright before they all settled down again to wait for their flight.
Once their flight was announced, the thirteen boys headed to the gate, escorted by security and were quickly onto the flight.
As the plane flew over Mexico things really started settling in for Minghao. He was tucked between Junhui and Mingyu, body pressed into Junhui's side so he could stare out of the window.
Minghao suddenly felt awful. Not only had he missed a concert, but he would never get to perform in Mexico again. Chances are, the members would find a closer place of lower altitude and leave him in a hotel there for a few days. Minghao was reaching for his phone to type out an apology message on Weverse when Mingyu took his hand.
“I know you want to apologise to Carat, but let Pledis do it. Just relax and get some sleep. It’s a long flight to Korea. Just get some rest.” Mingyu whispered, handing Minghao a blanket to wrap himself in.
Minghao wanted to laugh at how Mingyu knew exactly how he was feeling, but didn’t. Instead, he curled up under the blanket and let Junhui give him an earbud so they could watch the movie together.
What would Minghao do without Junhui?