James Wilson (
oncologist) wrote in
damned_institute2012-06-08 11:37 am
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Day 64: Doctor's Office 6 [Third Shift]
Having to work on a Sunday might have been something that Wilson complained about, if it wasn't for the fact that his schedule here was always so light. Even when he'd had a heavier schedule back at Princeton-Plainsboro, he couldn't say that working on Sundays was a thing that never happened. He couldn't count the number of times that he'd sacrificed his free time to go into the office and do paperwork or dictations or whatever else needed to be done.
It was part of being a doctor, honestly. Anyone who didn't think that their life was going to get consumed by it was probably delusional.
That being said, Wilson felt he'd done a decent job of keeping his interactions with the patients strictly professional. He could have tried to track down some of them in Doyleton yesterday, for instance, but he'd refrained. The idea of getting too tangled up with a mental patient was something even he wasn't about to get involved with.
Despite having to come in on a Sunday, though, Wilson was only needed after lunch, and so he was working on a full stomach as he entered his office and sat down at his desk. Today he would be seeing two patients: Jude, or Allelujah, the man with the split personality -- and someone new, a Watanabe Yori. Wilson got his files in order and then waited, curious to see who would walk through the doors first.
It was part of being a doctor, honestly. Anyone who didn't think that their life was going to get consumed by it was probably delusional.
That being said, Wilson felt he'd done a decent job of keeping his interactions with the patients strictly professional. He could have tried to track down some of them in Doyleton yesterday, for instance, but he'd refrained. The idea of getting too tangled up with a mental patient was something even he wasn't about to get involved with.
Despite having to come in on a Sunday, though, Wilson was only needed after lunch, and so he was working on a full stomach as he entered his office and sat down at his desk. Today he would be seeing two patients: Jude, or Allelujah, the man with the split personality -- and someone new, a Watanabe Yori. Wilson got his files in order and then waited, curious to see who would walk through the doors first.
no subject
Wilson nodded his understanding and dismissed the nurse, having no problem with letting Jude lay down on the couch this time around.
In reality, dealing with a physical illness was much more his specialty, and so Wilson decided to start there. Maybe it wasn't his job here, but he couldn't exactly ignore it, either.
"I'm sorry to hear you haven't been feeling well," he started. "What symptoms have you been suffering from?"
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How had humans not died out by now if they had to deal with this regularly?
"Fever," he began, muttering the words with all of the sullen dislike he could muster at the moment. It was not, even he had to admit, up to their usual standards. "Headache, everywhere ache. My eyeballs ache and I think the brain surgery hurt less. I can't eat because thinking about food makes me feel worse."
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"Sounds like the flu," he said after a pause. "The fever and nausea, especially. Honestly, you should probably be in bed." Chances were that Allelujah was contagious, after all, and the nurses here should have known that it was better to quarantine the particularly sick patients.
But he wasn't supposed to be giving medical advice to the staff here.
"I can give you something to ease up on the symptoms, but drinking lots of fluid and getting rest is most important right now." He could recite all of that almost without thinking about it, and in a way it was nice to be back in his comfort area.
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"How do you people deal with this?" he asked frustrated by the whole experience. "You get sick so often how do you ever get anything done?" Why hadn't people died out by now? They were slow and sickly and while he hated what he had been made into, the torture that he had gone through, he couldn't deny that it had made him stronger.
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Wilson figured it was much more likely that Jude's outlook on this was due to his mental illness rather than because he was some kind of medical impossibility, though.
"If you've never been sick before, you'd have a hard time diagnosing yourself, wouldn't you? And I wouldn't say the average person gets sick that often. A healthy person probably only falls ill once or twice a year." He was usually dealing with patients who were much, much sicker than that, and some of them still managed to function and get things done, so Jude's perspective was laughable, to say the least. Getting worked up over a fever and some body aches was pretty ridiculous when Wilson was used to patients who had terminal illnesses.
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He leaned back against the couch, stubbornly looking away from the doctor, lips pressed into a hard line. "If I'm sick, then I'm useless. If I'm sick then I can't fight and I don't have a purpose if I can't fight."
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It was probably for the better. From what Wilson understood, Hallelujah was violent, and he didn't want to be put in a position where he had to call the orderlies in.
But what Jude said next stood out, mainly because Wilson couldn't see the sense to it. "If you can't fight? But you haven't had the chance to fight since you arrived here, have you?" It was true that being sick prevented someone from doing all sorts of things, but since when had this patient put so much stock into fighting?