Wilson leaned forward in his seat slightly when Adel began to unwrap the bandages around his throat. Mental patients were prone to self-destruction - either that, or they attacked each other - so he hadn't thought much of it, but...
The doctor couldn't help himself. When he saw the contusions, he had to stand from his seat and walk around the desk to get a closer look. He had to wonder what the cause had been. It was obvious to see that the indentations indicated strangulation.
"A fighter?" he asked, peering down at his throat. "There's something about that in the file," he affirmed. "What kind of fighter?" It wasn't something he came in contact with every day (and it was as good a topic as any for discussion), so he figured he'd indulge in a bit of curiosity. If it was possible that patients could get to each other during the night and do this sort of damage, he might have to speak to the authorities about it.
"May I?" he asked, pulling his hands forward to indicate that he wanted to examine the bruising.
no subject
The doctor couldn't help himself. When he saw the contusions, he had to stand from his seat and walk around the desk to get a closer look. He had to wonder what the cause had been. It was obvious to see that the indentations indicated strangulation.
"A fighter?" he asked, peering down at his throat. "There's something about that in the file," he affirmed. "What kind of fighter?" It wasn't something he came in contact with every day (and it was as good a topic as any for discussion), so he figured he'd indulge in a bit of curiosity. If it was possible that patients could get to each other during the night and do this sort of damage, he might have to speak to the authorities about it.
"May I?" he asked, pulling his hands forward to indicate that he wanted to examine the bruising.