ArchivedLogs:We Can Rebuild Her

We Can Rebuild Her
Dramatis Personae Ross, Hank	2013-07-07 Ross gets wasted. Hank handles the medical emergency, and the fallout.
Location <XS> Medical Lab - B1
Gleaming and sterile, the school's medical facility is all cool science in contrast to the mansion's old-world old-fashion. All stainless steel and antiseptic tinge, the room is filled with the quiet whir-click of the various implements that comprise its medical equipment -- all state-of the art. The hospital beds are curtained off for privacy when they have patients, and in one of the alcoves there is a small operating theatre visible. More heavy-duty equipment is visible in the lab in the back, where the securely locked cabinets keep sensitive equipment out of the reach of teenage fingers. This was not Hank's first panic button event. Nor was it only his second. The incident from last month was just the most recent one. Until now. Hank was among the first responders when the emergency was sounded, and he received Ross into the school's modest medical lab. It had been a whirlwind of stabilizing broken bones, pumping stomachs, and attaching a myriad of monitoring devices. Even with all that, Hank has remained on duty all night, and looks a little worse for wear. As breakfast time approached, he had requested a variety of foods from the mansion's staff, including a pot of coffee. The cart wafts food smells over the antiseptics of the lab, of muffins, juices, and coffee. After all of that was dropped off, Hank immediately pours himself a cup of coffee, black, and sips at it. He's in khakis, a red and yellow hawaiian shirt, and a white lab coat with 'MCCOY' stitched just above the breast pocket. He leaves the cart in the otherwise empty lab, and paces along the row of empty beds, eyeing Ross's monitors when he heads back in her direction. For the last few hours, Ross had been sleeping quietly, stirring a bit in her sleep. The smell of the food, plus her starvation and the fact that she's been sleeping for many hours now causes her body to slowly force her to wake up, much to her chagrin. She stirs, quietly opening her eyes. She subconciously tries to get up, before screaming in pain from moving her ankle and burying her head in the pure white pillow. Hank was just in the act of holding up a hand to caution against moving, but too late. He winces when Ross screams, sets his coffee down on a nearby rolling table and rushes over to her bed. "Try to remain still, Ms. Bennet. You've had quite a rough night. Do you know where you are" Ross stirs her head to the right when she hears the voice. She recoils when she sees the blue furry beast thing in a lab coat and hawaiian shirt looking at her. She almost screams before she realizes where she is. "Uhm...not my...dorm?" She tries to avoid eye contact, and mainly just looking at him in general. "Correct. You are in the medical lab. And you had quite an episode last night. Your blood test is showing quite a few interesting things, which is the main reason you're not currently on a drip-release pain medicine. The pain medicine would be for the fractured wrist and ankle, which I have not had an opportunity to x-ray properly yet." Hank takes a deep breath, and retrieves the extra-tough rubber yellow gloves he keeps around, the kind his claws won't just tear through at a touch. "They've been stabilized, but I didn't want to do any more before we could examine you properly." He takes a moment to look over the digital display by her bed, makes some mental notes and nods to himself. Hank takes a deep breath and asks, "Now, would you like to start at the beginning? I need to know everything you put in your body last night, so I can match it up against my tests. Your blood chemistry is not strictly standard, you see." Ross takes a deep breth, still avoiding eye contact. She begins counting in her head. "Um...a few bottles of alcohol, don't know what kind, some oxys, food, obviously...Is that enough, doc?" She obviously seems a bit peeved to have to be in here, also to have had her blood taken. She tries to reach out to touch him, but can't reach very far before moving her ankle and screeching again, recoiling her hand backwards. "Can I go now...?", she says, hoping her pheromones somehow just magically entered his bloodstream when he tested her. "Well," Hank begins, a little absently as he looks over his notes on his tablet device, pointedly remaining out of arm's reach. "I don't think you'd get very far on that ankle. As I said, We've yet to x-ray it, and your wrist, after which I'll be able to fit you with a brace for both joints. However," Hank looks back up from his notes, circling around to the foot of Ross's bed. "Ms. Bennet, a student consuming controlled substances will unfortunately be faced with certain consequences. We're responsible for your well-being while you're here, and I have to say, I'm very concerned about this." Ross shrugs, smirking. "I don't really care. I'll get out of somehow, like all the other times I avoided punishment." Her stomach grumbles, as she lies back on the pillow, unable to move and restrained to the bed. She mumbles something, probably about Hank being a blue freak, and begins scratching at her wrist, absentmindedly. Hank nods, apparently nonplussed by Ross's bad attitude. He makes a flurry of taps on his tablet before sliding it into his lab coat pocket. "Well, you're punishment is not for me to decide. I've forwarded the particulars to Professor Xavier. It'll be up to him. For right now, I just want to make sure you're healthy. May I have your permission to x-ray you?" Ross sighs, stretching back, and finally making eye contact with him. "How long will this take? I'm bored and hungry." She sits up the best she can without moving her ankle or wrist, and yawns. "Alright, just do it." "Very good, thank you." Hank rolls the food table over next to Ross. "Help yourself to some food while I get the machine warmed up. The x-ray machine is just across the room, not somewhere far away, but Hank walks over to it and starts fiddling with it, making it hum as it comes online. Ross begins slowly picking at a muffin, tearing pieces off then eating them. On the contrary, she drinks her cup of juice in seconds. She finishes the muffin as the machine turns online, and grabs an apple, picking the skin off before eating the insides. She places the apple skin and empty cup on the tray, before stretching her arms once more. "Ok, lets see here," Hank says cheerily, in spite of all the talk about potential punishments - not his department! He returns to Ross's bed, his gloves reaching almost to his elbows (these must be the gloves he uses for playing with liquid nitrogen). He detaches a few tubes and cables and gently rolls the bed across the room to the x-ray machine. On the way, he asks, "Have you ever been x-rayed before? I just need to know if they interact with your abilities at all." Ross thinks for a second, smirking. "Many times, and there's usually no problems. I've broken my bones, maybe a billion times." She looks at the machine. She recoils back. "What is the risk of death using this...? I mean, I've been x-rayed before, but never in a secret underground mansion lab by a giant smurf." She says this seriously without any sarcasm whatsoever. She finishes the muffin as she gets ready to be put in the machine. Hank shakes his head, with a smirk of his own. It's probably not the first time the mutant scientist has been insulted, nor would it be the last. And kids just say the /darnedest/ things, don't they? "No need to worry. It's just a standard x-ray machine you'd find in any hospital. But I know of at least a couple of mutants who respond to x-rays differently. But no matter! You've done this before." Hank rolls the bed to a stop under the arch of the machine. Ross won't even have to get up or move around. He sets it up to scan her ankle, his go, and speaks up to be heard over the machine. "Had a lot of breaks, have you?" Ross shrugs. "According to the doctors, I have something called Osteomalacia or something. A rare case of it, apparently. It doesn't help when my bones break like twigs. The oxy helps with the constant pain I get from every little fall or bruise." She shifts to readjust a few times, getting comfortable. "Ah yes, ok, I'm familiar with the condition." Hank nods to himself as he moves the machine to take an x-ray of her arm. "Oh, yes I can even see the low density in the image here." He taps on the screen on the side of the machine, and it whirs again for the second picture. Hank pushes the machine out of the way, and pulls his tablet from his pocket. With a couple of quick gestures a holographic representation of both joins is floating in the air between Ross and Hank. He hems at the images for a moment, and finally reaches out to move them a little for Ross to see better too. "Yes, see here? These are both clean breaks, but I you see the bone-scars of previous breaks, here, here and - well yes, you already know." Hank rolls Ross's bed back to it's original spot. "Well, the good news is that nothing needs to be set. I'll give you a boot for your ankle, and a brace for your wrist. /These/ on the other hand, no pun intended, are /not/ standard, hospital issue. I've improved on the design substantially. There will be no need to remove them until you're healed up, and you're also welcome to get them wet. You could even hop in the pool if you like." Hank removes his glasses at this point and perches them on top of his head. "But I'm afraid I can't recommend oxycontin for your pain regulation. I can't find anything in your medical records for a legitimate prescription, for good reason. It's really not well suited for someone your age. I'll find something else for you to manage your pain with. Also, you should know it is school policy that prescription pain medication be left in the medical lab with my staff here. You can access it any time, day or night, but I'm afraid that is the only arrangement we can come to here. Students are not allowed to keep controlled substances of any kind on their person." Ross stretches back, smirking. "Alright then. So, uh, I'll be out of class until it all heals, right?", she says hopefully. She smiles. "So, this boot...is it fashionable? I don't want to look like a freak." Hank chuckles and raises his bushy blue eyebrows. "Well, I doubt anyone would call it /fashionable/. I'm no runway designer, after all. But I have heard 'cool' tossed around. As well as 'sweet'." Hank shrugs. Apparently the mystery of teenager slang escapes him. He rummages around in a cabinet briefly and finally produces a black glove and boot that looks something like a diver's neoprene suit material, but it's covered in in tiny armatures, dials and doodads. They look something like very primitive exoskeleton designs being bandied around the medical world. At a touch, both devices cycle open, giving a wide open space to slip a hand and then a foot, if Ross goes along with it. Ross stares at it for a few moments, trying to figure out what outfits would match. She repulses for a moment, before finally putting them on. They fit tightly, but without pain. She slightly shrieks when she notices that it doesn't match her current outfit. TEENAGERS. "Um...thanks...?" "Don't thank me yet," Hank says with a wink. He taps at his tablet again, and both items ripple and wriggle on Ross's wrist and ankle. As gently as possible, the boot and glove shift everything back into just the right position, and then gel firmly into place, creating a firm, but comfortable hold on the broken bones. Any science nerd would think it's cool as hell. Ah well. "Ok, you're free to go. Watch for Professor Xavier's email. I'm sure he'll be contacting you soon." He smiles and adds, "Take any of that you might want too. I'll never eat all that." He gestures at the tray still half full of muffins and fruit. "Take it easy, Ms. Bennet! We'll see you soon." Ross grabs a muffin, quickly pacing towards the door, to be free from the medical room. "See you, Doctor Smurf." She moves through the door, walking into a wall, before turning around and heading towards her dorm. Ah, teenagers. Got to love them.