Work Text:
Food was amazing. Ever since Gorthalax’s curse had been broken and he’d been able to eat, he found that he couldn’t get enough of it. Barbecue was his favorite, but he loved everything; artichokes, cakes, salads, curries, casseroles, burgers… you name it, and Gorthalax had tried it and was in love. He’d scarf down the food alongside Sklonda – a ready participant in expanding his palate – as he treated them to new cuisines and classic favorites of hers.
And while Sklonda padded out her thin frame into something sleek and lean, no longer looking haggard and underfed, Gorthalax… well… his paunch and love handles were signs of his new love for food. Sklonda didn’t mind, of course, joking that there was more of the pit fiend to love. But along with the extra pounds, he found a new nemesis that was much more bothersome: indigestion.
He tried over-the-counter medicine first, but found that the pain and discomfort kept coming. Next came the prescription medication and cutting back on the fatty foods, but even then the problem persisted. Eventually, Gorthalax’s doctor sat him down and gave him the hard facts.
“Mr. The Insatiable, I’m afraid that with your acute gastroesophageal reflux disease and the treatments we have tried, your only hope of relief is going to be surgery.”
Gorthalax hung his head, ashamed that his newfound love of eating had led him to this point, but the doctor assured him that it wasn’t a failing of character that brought him to this state, but a matter of genetics and constitution. “Surgery is nothing to be ashamed of, Mr. The Insatiable. Hundreds of people of all races have undergone this procedure and are able to continue enjoying the same foods afterwards, and some have even seen weight loss. You’ll only benefit from the surgery, though I must point out that for a person of your stature, the recovery time will be a little bit longer than the average. We won’t be able to do the surgery laparoscopically and of course, healing magic runs the risk of your esophagus and stomach healing back to how it was, so we’re looking at three nights in the hospital and then two weeks recovery in bed and a liquid diet during that time.”
“Wow… that’s… a lot to digest,” said Gorthalax, giving a small laugh at his pun. “I’ll think about it, alright, doc?
“Sure thing. If you want to go ahead with the surgery, just call and we can get you scheduled. Take care until we meet again, Mr. The Insatiable.”
Gorthalax mulled over his option for a while, and sat down with Sklonda to see if she would be open to providing care for him while he recovered. She was on board with it, of course, and the fact that they were now living together meant that she was already there and ready to help whenever he decided to have the surgery. And while his insurance covered the surgery, he didn’t have enough sick leave for the whole two weeks of recovery and would have to eat into his PTO.
“I’m sorry, but you only get five days of sick leave per year,” Ms. Honeybutter, the head of HR, told him. “You’ll have to take personal days if you want to get paid for the rest of your recovery time.” She flashed him a smile, hollow and unsympathetic. “You can still consider it a vacation, though; relaxing at home, being waited on, no worries about work and students… People take medical vacations!”
Gorthalax glared at her, deadpan, but he knew that if he were to have the surgery, he had no choice about eating into his PTO.
“Thanks for the help,” he grumbled as he left the office.
“Any time!” replied Ms. Honeybutter cheerily.
After another night of indigestion and the painful sting of acid crawling up his throat, however, Gorthalax had had enough and the next morning called up his doctor to schedule the surgery.
Five weeks later, near the end of the school year, Gorthalax checked into the hospital for his surgery with Sklonda waiting anxiously outside the operating room.
About an hour and a half later, Gorthalax came to in a dimly lit room surrounded by the bleached whites of the hospital bedding.
“Hey there, big guy,” whispered Sklonda, placing a gentle hand on his face. “How are you feeling?”
“Sleepy,” he muttered. “Foggy.”
“I bet. The doctors say the surgery was a success, though, so that’s a relief. Now it’s just a matter of recovery, and I know you’ve got the strength in you to power through it.”
“Thanks, honey,” he whispered groggily. “Can I have ice?”
Sklonda turned to the attending nurse who nodded and brought in a cup of ice for him. Sklonda proceeded to feed him small chips of ice as he slowly blinked and came back to full consciousness.
They chatted briefly and the nurse filled him in on how the surgery went. They then swapped out an IV bag and warned him that with the new painkillers, he’d probably get very drowsy. As promised, the pain killers did their thing, numbing him to blissful unawareness, and soon his eyelids were drooping and he nodded off in his hospital bed.
When he at last woke up, Sklonda was still there, reading a book beside his bed.
“You don’t have to stick around the whole time,” he mumbled, his deep voice a gentle rumble tinged by a hint of raspiness from the surgery. “Don’t you have work to do?”
“I’m taking a vacation,” she replied simply.
“Honey…”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, getting up and kissing his forehead. “It’ll be fine. You just focus on recuperating. Now, I’m going to go grab a bite to eat. I think I’ll grab some of that macaroni salad they have in the cafeteria. It looked pretty good, actually.”
“Mmm, macaroni salad,” he said, thinking about the tang of the dressing and the crunch of celery next to the al dente noodles.
“Sorry, ‘Lax, but it’s IV fluids for you for the next two days,” she said sympathetically.
“I know, I know. Do you think you can leave the ice chips within reach?”
“Of course.” She wheeled the table with the cup on it over to his bedside. “I’ll be back shortly, alright? Just sit tight.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek before leaving and Gorthalax slowly sucked on his ice chips while thinking about macaroni salad.
The next three days in the hospital passed by rather quickly for him as he slept through most of them. He felt discomfort across his stomach where the large incision was made, but the painkillers that were fed to him through the IV made it just that: uncomfortable.
At last the hour of his release drew near, but before he was given leave he was given a meal shake to see how he could tolerate liquids. He sipped it hesitantly (it was chocolate and tasted… mediocre), concerned if he’d feel any pain from the shake reacting to the healing scars along his esophagus and stomach, but to his relief it was painless. He was warned that his at-home painkillers wouldn’t be as effective as the drugs given to him in the hospital and to prepare for aches and soreness over the next week and a half. With that final warning and a care packet handed over to him, he was released from the hospital and Sklonda helped him into her car and took him back to their home.
The first half a day back at home was good; he laid back on the sofa and watched TV while eating more ice chips; it was just like still being in the hospital but without the IVs and waterproof bedding. But eventually the last of the hospital’s drugs wore off and the pain crept in. It was the worst when he’d try to sit up, the healing muscles across his stomach complaining with every minute move he’d make. Even deep breaths made him wince, but Sklonda was there beside him, passing him a cool towel to place on his forehead and a cup of water alongside the prescribed painkillers. Unable to comfortably lean over to kiss her, he took her hand and instead kissed her palm in thanks, resulting in a warm smile in return.
He decided that he would sleep on the sofa that night, too concerned about the pain of trying to sit up from lying fully horizontal, and to his surprise Sklonda gently snuggled up next to him, pulling a light blanket over the two of them. The painkillers began to work, and while he wasn’t pain-free like he was in the hospital, it was dulled to a tolerable ache and soon Sklonda’s soft snoring lulled him to sleep.
And so Gorthalax’s recovery continued on. Each day the pain was a little less, and until he felt confident enough to return to his bed at night, he continued to sleep on the sofa, Sklonda joining him each night. He noticed that Sklonda didn’t stray far from his side, always ready to care for him if he needed more ice or water or if it was time for more painkillers. While she was too small to help him get up off the sofa or help him walk around, she did everything within her power to keep him company and in high spirits as he recuperated. Eventually he was able to sit up fully with minimal discomfort and ten days after surgery he climbed into bed and kissed Sklonda goodnight as she curled up next to him.
After that the road to recovery went rather smoothly, and the day finally arrived where he could eat solid foods again. To Sklonda’s chagrin, he chose macaroni salad as his first meal, and she happily bought the ingredients to make some for him the day before. It was as delicious as he had imagined, and told her as much. She blushed, never used to his praise of her cooking skills since she considered making boxed mac & cheese with milk as fancy. They celebrated his recovery with chicken wings (mildly spicy) and to Gorthalax’s delight, felt no indigestion that night. From that day forward, he never again felt the burn of acid in his throat and he was able to enjoy food to his fullest once again.