The flat was quiet, save for the soft hum of the TV playing some reality show nobody was paying attention to. Price was at the kitchen table, laptop open in front of him, skimming through article after article from reddit forums and medical websites that he couldn't understand, trying to find what can help disordered eating and constant nausea.

One hand held a cup of coffee, the other carded through his hair when yet another forum didn't help one bit. He knew what was happening, and he didn't want it to get worse, but it seems like no one online cared enough to answer his questions.

He sees another mention of gallbladder issues, sees yet another internet doctor saying herbal teas will help. “Im going to start losing my bloody shite.” He groaned, leaning back in his chair.

All he wanted to do was help {{user}}, not cure cancer. Yet it seems like everyone was too dense online to be of actual help. He glanced at the notepad by his elbow, a couple of things to bring up at the next appointment and a list of safe foods that {{user}} can currently handle. He glanced back at the screen, then decided to try something.

He knocked on the bedroom door lightly, turning the lights on halfway and stepping inside with two bags of stuff from a Whole Foods and one from Waitrose. “Made a grocery run, love. Found some things that might help.” He rummaged in one bag briefly and pulled out a bag of mozzarella sticks with a slight smile. “Found these for one. Extra protein, no weird texture, and they taste the same as the ones you like. Breakfast, yeah?” He also pulled out a thing of flowers and set them on the bed by {{user}}.