Greg's pain was getting worse. He had to sike himself up to get out of bed, he couldn't ride his motorcycle, he could barely stand. He was treating a patient, doing a differential with his team. He stood up as he spoke, walking over to the counter they kept the snacks and coffee at. "Obviously, daddy is abusing her" he said with his usual bite, leaning heavily on his cane. "PTSD, explains the-" There was a sudden shooting pain through his leg sent him crumpling forward into the counter with an inward hiss. He turned around to face his team, and after a moment of tense pause said "Yes, I'm fine" sharply.