ArchivedLogs:Don't Need No Doctor

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Don't Need No Doctor
Dramatis Personae

Dr. Ridley, Billy

2014-06-19


Billy comes to Arturo for a bruised rib. Leaves with more hope for the future than he bargained for.

Location

<NYC> Handwavium Clinic - A clinic that neither of us can remember and where no one could have recognized us. *Jedi hand waves*


"You can wait here in Exam Room 3, the doctor will be in shortly," chirps a pudgy but welcoming nurse, holding the door open for Billy and shutting it quietly behind him. She slides a clip-board with his information into the slot, there. On it, along with his current complaints, is his long list of allergies both past and present.

Billy has never felt the apprehension that most people get in a doctor's office. The medicinal smell is something similar to his own void scent. Everything is chrome or covered with flimsy paper that he can't destroy. Not to mention, he spent most of his childhood in and out of them.

He slides himself carefully backward onto the exam station, criss-crossing his ankles and looking innocently around the room. After a few minutes pass and he guesses he'll be waiting just as long to see a doctor as he did to see the inside of this room, he pulls out his kindle.

The time spent actually in the exam room sometimes feels longer than the time spent sitting in the waiting room. Arturo isn't an incredibly long time, but nor is he especially prompt. There's the sound of the clipboard sliding out of its holder, then the doorknob turns.

Doctor Ridley is dressed in brown slacks and a button-up shirt with a casual check. He's also wearing the ubiquitous white lab coat. "Hey there, Mr. Sharpe. I'm Doctor Ridley. How can I help you today?" He smiles, but keeps his lips closed. His hair is quite shaggy for a doctor. It covers his ears completely.

Billy takes a moment to look up from his reading and comprehend before putting the little tablet away, "Hey there." He mimics the doctor's greeting awkwardly, hesitating again upon having to come up with an explanation of his injuries. He decides just ...not to. "My ribs really hurt and I just wanted to make sure nothing was broken." The blonde fidgets. Not savvy enough to be put off by length of hair, he watches Dr. Ridley with wide, trusting eyes.

And then those eyes start to water. And he starts to sneeze. And sneeze. ...And sneeze.

"Well, we can certainly check that out. Did you hurt yourself? I..." Arturo starts to speak, but then poor Billy starts to sneeze. "Are you all right? I'm not wearing cologne. We're scent-free." Then he happens to glance at the chart. Animal allergies. Oh. Ah. "I uh, you might...want to see a different doctor."

"No! I'll-I'll ACHUUUU!" Billy reaches for something-anything to breath breath through. The guy seems pretty well-versed in slowing his breathing and grabbing the reins of sneezing fit. They can put that on his tombstone.

He shakes his head, "I've been waiting all day. It's okay. I'll be okay. Do you have a dog or something?" He takes stock of Arturo, moving a shaky hand to support his side which evidently hurts more when he sneezes.

"Something like that," says Arturo. "How bad is it? Do you usually take just an antihistamine?" He keeps his distance and flips through the chart. There's thankfully a box of tissues within reach. There's a slightly guilty look on his face.

"Something like that," Billy says in a pinched-nose tone from behind a tissue. "Not everything works correctly on me, now." He looks down around himself on the exam table, where even the littlest droplets of snot that didn't make it into a tissue have turned anything they've touched to a sterile white.

"I'll be okay," Billy takes a deep breath, forcing a smile, "I uh-yeah, I hurt my side. Yesterday. It's a little swollen and I-I-I-" He has to stop speaking again as he tries to stifle a sneeze.

"Are you sure you don't want another doctor? I can see if I can grab someone on their break..." As Arturo points towards the door, his dark fingernails are more obvious. He doesn't really seem the type to paint his nails. "I'm a little worried about coming closer to examine you. If it's this bad from across the room, I might send you into a sneezing fit if I get any closer."

Billy zeroes on Arturo's index finger rather obviously, only turning away to blow his nose. "Can I use like, a surgical mask? I-uh-ah-Ah-" He fights off a sneeze, "I prefer a mutant."

Arturo folds his finger under at that and tucks it back into the pocket of his lab coat. "That's not something you hear every day." He goes over to the cabinet and searches through until he finds a mask. "Here. I don't think it would help much if I wore one." He does however, pull down a pair of gloves for himself.

The patient does his best to smile, blowing his nose again before fitting the mask to his face. The clean, light-blue soon starts bleeding out into white from the vapors of his breath. "Thhnkk Yyhh," he says from behind it, "Srryy ubb-tt th-t."

"God, no. Don't. It's my fault. Can't say as I've had anyone react quite that strongly before. But I don't shed." Arturo smiles, this time not really making an effort to cover his pointed teeth. The cat...er, dog's out of the bag. "So. Let's have a look, shall we? Can you take off your shirt?"

Billy gulps down, nodding as he unbuttons his shirt and slides it back behind him. There is swelling, but the discoloration that might normally be associated is nowhere to be seen. His eyes become thin slits, perhaps in a wince, as he lifts his arm to make the area more visible. If he's bashful at all, either by his comical, stick-figure body or it's ridiculous porcelain color - you'd be hard pressed to tell through the mask.

"Anything about your mutation that I need to know? In my experience, mutants only learn about drug interactions through trial and error because there's so little research into it." Arturo reaches out and presses fingers lightly against the bruised area. He checks it for swelling or signs of a break. "Just some mild swelling. Ice and ibuprofen should take care of it."

"Antimicrobial," Billy gestures to himself, gulping down mucus. "I'm my own antimicrobial, I mean." He creases his brow with concern as he watches, shifting a little in discomfort, "Before I was like this, I was on a lot of medication. But the mutation takes care of a lot of that, now." ... "It hurts right there," he remarks, in an attempt to be helpful. It comes out whiney.

"The human hand sanitizer, then?" Arturo smiles up as he finishes his examination. "Well, there are worse abilities to have in a city like New York. I imagine antibiotics act strangely." He backs up. "Nothing's broken. The bruises aren't serious. They'll ache for a few days, but just take it easy and you should be feeling almost normal in a week or so."

Billy looks skeptical, but nods a few times. "Okay, thank you," he offers meekly. He holds back a comment about breathing easy, now. ...you know, because he can't. Badum-ching! "Pretty much everything acts strangely when you're a mutant," he smiles in return, trying to pull back up his shirt without moving too much.

Arturo snaps off the rubber gloves and chucks them in a bin. "It's true. Drug interactions with mutations is a woefully understudied field. For obvious reasons, it's tricky to get a mutant to consent to blood samples and thorough examinations. There's a lot of understandable mistrust."

"Sounds like you've given this quite a bit of thought," Billy isn't watching, rather looking down as he buttons up his shirt but his tone suggests he does agree. "I have to say," he pulls a tissue under the mask and sniffles into it, "The people asking for those kinds of samples probably aren't usually very deserving of trust." ... "Sorry. ...No offense. Obviously."

"No, no, I agree. I was in a situation where I thought I could trust my employers, but then felt I couldn't." Arturo makes a few notes on Billy's file. "It can be very dangerous to trust. But in the meantime, you have mutants dying from strange reactions to drugs because there's no research."

Billy cocks his head back, "You are." He gets to the top button that most men would probably leave undone, the hard one, and fiddles with it for a moment, "That's what you're saying, right? Good. Good for you. I'm not at your level but I want to do something like that to. I mean, I'm no superhero. But I have a brain. -I mean, I'm not going to be a doctor. That's not what I meant." Billy blinks, sliding onto his feet.

"Well, what do you want to do? Research? Or are you talking about social justice issues?" Arturo holds the clipboard against his chest. He ponders a moment, then nods towards the spots on the exam table from his uh...sneezes. "Have you ever had that substance tested? There might be a way you can neutralize it, you know. Might come in handy."

"I'm supposed to start student teaching next year, if all goes well," Billy says proudly, "Early childhood." He turns to look down at the bleach stains, "Y'know, I never have." They captivate him for a moment, "It burns people if they touch it for too long. But not me."

"That's not uncommon for mutants to not be affected by their own mutations. And often, that ends up being the key to protecting others against a mutation like yours. If we find out why it doesn't burn you, then maybe we could formulate a cream or the like that you could apply to neutralize the secretions before they burn another person." Arturo pushes off the wall. "Anyway, I should move on to my next patient, and you should get away from me before you have another sneezing fit."

Billy frowns behind his mask but again, nods in agreement. He subdues the flare up of hope that Ridley's idea gives him. "Sounds like a pipe dream. But thank you," the human hand-sanitizer gathers up his bag and makes his way out, "For this and uh, whatever else you end up doing."

"Not a pipe dream, no," says Arturo. "On the contrary, if the chemical you're secreting is not particularly complex or similar to say...bleach, then there already exists agents to neutralize it." He stops and looks at Billy. "If you'd trust me with samples, I'd be happy to work on it for you."

"Hhff," Billy turns to study the doctor. Having removed the mask, his frown has deepened even more drastically. Any man in his circumstances would have to have very complicated feelings about this. "Yes," he surprises himself. Tentatively, Billy forces up a smile.

Arturo looks surprised and pleased. "I promise it will just be me looking at the samples. And if I can't help you, they'll be destroyed. You uh...you only have to Google me to see why I'd be the last person to do anything untoward with your samples." Something about breaking contracts over accusations of sample misappropriation.