savetheearth | general clinic log

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general clinic log

Who: Drs. Solus or Strider, various patients.
What: Echo checkups
When: Whenever
Where: LSR clinic

The LSR clinic, despite its run-down, beat-up appearance, is actually fairly clean on the inside. Lit by white fluorescent lights, it's generally pretty empty, with the occasional non-network patient coming in to get something looked at. A volunteer is usually found running the front desk, organizing papers and responding to phone calls, while Dr. Solus and Dr. Strider take care of the actual medical business.

The waiting room is barebones compared to other clinics and medical practices - LSR doesn't have the money to get entertainments for the waiting patients, so all that's available are a few chairs.

When it's your turn for an appointment, whoever's at the desk will direct you down a hallway to the left, and you will meet one of the doctors.

[ooc: general clinic log! all checkups for crazy echoes can take place here. specify dr. solus or dr. strider in the subject line.]

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[His head jerks up, almost surprised to be addressed. He hasn't mentally prepared himself for really talking to anyone yet, so he forgets in that moment that there's a giant, defining tattoo on his face. He hasn't quite managed to wipe away the anxiety-driven tears away, either. It should be very obvious in a matter of milliseconds who this kid is.]

Y-yeah, I--is that you? I'm sorry, I wasn't thinkin' straight when I came in, I--it's really hard to go outside and everything I should've--[He's talking too fast for real coherent sentences, and after a breath he drops his head back down.]

Sorry.

[oh that sure is a tattoo taking up half his face. This must be the guy.]

[Ravi's eyebrows rise just slightly when he sees it, but it's subtle and brief and he quickly goes back to neutral. There is a pang of sympathy at the tears, but he has always felt that the best way to deal with a crying person is to pretend you haven't noticed and act like everything is normal.]

Yes.

It's fine. Don't worry about it.

[he straightens and steps back, so Jacuzzi has space to stand and follow him.] Come with me.

[his tone throughout is very gentle and nonthreatening. he will lead Jacuzzi to the back of the clinic and into one of the exam rooms.]

[He rises from the chair, keeping the hood up and his head down. He bites back more apologies, and more questions because all he knows is whatever is going on is bad. And he's smack dab in the middle.

And apologies just tend to annoy others. And he'd like not to do that yet with someone who can actually give him a hand when he desperately needs one.]

I--Thanks. For... offering to help.

Helping is what I do. [it has the tone of a 'you're welcome' or 'don't mention it', but he doesn't like to say those things because they never quite feel like the right reply to give.]

[he ushers Jacuzzi into the first empty exam room and motions for him to sit]

Do you need a moment? [the only reference he will make to having noticed Jacuzzi's emotional state in the waiting room.]

Huh? [He's confused for a brief second as he finally lowers his hood to reveal plain and messy brown hair, but he shakes his head. He's used to being asked that. Again, he starts speaking a little too fast.] Oh, no, it's fine. I'm always like this. I mean I know it seems weird but I've been like this since I was a kid, so I'm used to it.

So you don't have to worry about me or anything. Not that you're worried, but just in case, you really don't have to. I just cry a lot. It's kind of a... condition, so... [He trails off, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment, and smiling shyly. That fades fast though, because his constant state of panic lately has been very draining.]

[It's not hard to tell the kid is nervous, so it's easy enough to chalk it up to that. Ravi gives a nod and closes the door behind himself, moving over to sit in the physician's chair across from Jacuzzi.]

What sort of condition? [he's a medical professional, it's a legit question. he's not asking out of curiosity (okay, well, he is, but it doesn't sound like it), or skepticism.]

[Totally a legit question. And one Jacuzzi has gotten fairly often from other medical professionals. He used to cry a lot whenever he needed a vaccination. Until he was 18. He hasn't needed a vaccination since he was 18. His hurried half-explanations to new nurses were generally in a much more tense environment than this, so it might be easier when he's not crying like he's four.]

Huh? I thought it was obvious--I've had an anxiety disorder since I was a kid. For as along as I can remember, anyway. I know it seems silly! But it's--[Oh no the tears are coming, Jacuzzi for the love of god.]--it's not like I can help it or anythin'. I know it doesn't make any sense, it's just how things have always been!

[A slight shift in his expression at the mention of an anxiety disorder, recognition tinged with understanding.]

[there's a box of tissues on the counter beside him; he casually reaches over and slides it to the edge. he has had enough patients break down crying on him that he has a system for dealing with it: let them handle it however they need to, and carry on like nothing is wrong.]

It's not silly. I also have an anxiety disorder. So, I understand how it is.

You're not crying all the time, though. You know what you're doing. I'm just a loser who can't get himself together.

[He ignores the tissues, opting to wipe his eyes on his sleeve.]

I barely passed high school. I can't even pass college! And now Isaac and Miria said this is from aliens or something and--I think I might've finally lost it. Maybe this is all some kind of hallucination....

[that response is dismissive and it makes him bristle, but he keeps it contained. it's displayed in nothing more than a deep breath, the slightest bit of tension in his shoulders, and his eyes turning to the wall behind Jacuzzi.]

[he doesn't normally get into personal stuff when dealing with patients. maybe a brief comment to establish some kind of connection, if he feels it would be helpful, but nothing too deep.]

[that is why he doesn't explain that he doesn't cry because he trained himself to react with anger instead, and that he only seems like he knows what he's doing because he's learned to fake it, and that he absolutely does not have his life together because he's 33 and hasn't even had a relationship last 6 months, and that he barely even graduated high school with his class, and that the only reason he's so stable now is because he's been on medication and in therapy since he was nineteen.]

[that is why, instead, he keeps his answer professional, and patient-focused. his eyes slide back to Jacuzzi's face.]

If it is a hallucination, many people share it. It is as good as real.

And if you can look at someone who shares your problems, and think that he has his life together, then let that give you hope for yourself.

[He doesn't mean it to be. He just doesn't imagine that anyone who seems totally calm on the outside can be such a mess on the inside. He's never been good at connecting with people--he's never had anyone to push him to do so.

He ducks his head again, almost sulking. He doesn't see how he could ever be as calm as Ravi looks. He doesn't want to dismiss something that direct, though, no matter how he feels about it.]

... Maybe. If I make we make it through the alien thing.

[there's a vindictive little ping of satisfaction at the almost-sulk, but he immediately feels disgusted with himself for it. he withdraws a bit, sinking slightly against the back of the chair, turning his eyes away again.]

Did you fill out a patient intake form at the front desk?

[totally avoiding the subject of the aliens. he can't bring himself to think about that right now. after his best friend was nearly murdered by the police not even two weeks ago, the last thing he's able to be about this situation is optimistic. and pessimism, however warranted or honest, is not what someone new to all this needs to hear.]

If they gave it to me, I filled out what I could. [He doesn't have all the information, but he said he could call back with the rest. Well. Stammered, not said.]

I'm not... really good at remembering all my stuff.

That's fine. [all he needs is a paper trail proving Jacuzzi was actually here, really.]

Let me start a file for you and get you that note, one moment. [he heads out to the front desk. he's only gone for a couple minutes, and returns with a folder and notepad of excuse note forms.]

[ofc he spent a minute looking over whatever medical history Jacuzzi had listed. justified curiosity!]

[he sits down and starts filling out the excuse form]

What days did you need to be excused for?

[His information just shows a history of severe anxiety, a list a mile long of anti-anxiety medications he can't take, and a unfortunate problem with asthma attacks.

He watches somewhat curiously, finally free of fast-talking and sniffles and shakes his head.]

Just the last week. I stopped going to classes on the 12th... and finals were through the 20th. [He does at least look appropriately ashamed of his absences.] But what am I gonna do about my face?

[damn son, a week and a half? it's doable but that's a hell of an excuse. He writes it down, signs it, tears it off and hands it over.]

[All it says is "patient needs to be excused from classes due to inpatient care at LSR clinic from 12/12/13 - 12/20/13"]

If they call to confirm, we can't tell them why. [flips through the folder briefly--did Jacuzzi sign the HIPAA statement? yes, there it is. did he read it? ...another question entirely.]

[looks back up] But if they ask you, pneumonia is a good answer.

Have you tried stage makeup?

It wears off. [He looks so defeated about this tattoo. It's huge and conspicuous and he's sure it's going to get him killed somehow.]

[slow exhale, his eyes drift away, considering. he has no idea what to tell him that might help, honestly. tattoo removal is a thing, but that can leave scarring behind. it's pretty involved and costly, too.]

[he wants to help, but he also doesn't want to give bad or harmful advice. and this...is not a subject he's well-equipped to tackle, unfortunately.]

[he really hates admitting he can't do something, because it feels like admitting to personal failure, but he reminds himself that not knowing something you have no reason to know is not failure.] It's not my area of expertise.

Maybe someone in costuming would be better to ask. [he does not sound as sure about that as he would like to, despite his best efforts]

I was talking to somebody--[Maybe this is going to sound stupid to a medical professional, but he might as well give it a shot. The guy sounded hopeful about things anyway.]

He's a cop, he said. He thought I might be able to make it look like an accident?

[hmmmm... a cop suggested it, huh?] Sergeant Kaburagi? [a guess, but a good one, he thinks. Kotetsu's not the only cop on the network, but he's the most vocal about being one.]

[but could you make that thing look like an accident...? maybe if you claimed skin grafts, but they usually aren't quite so distinctly shaped. there aren't a lot of accidents he can think of that would leave behind such colouration without accompanying scars.]

[after thinking about it for a good moment, he looks pretty dubious, but he smooths that off his face before he responds.] Something that will cause hyperpigmentation, maybe.

[pause. the dawning of a sudden idea. he starts off slowly and hesitantly as he presents it, but has picked up enough steam by the end to sound reasonably confident about it] Most people know very little about medicine. You could call it spontaneous hyperpigmentation and say it is a rare inverse of vitiligo and most people wouldn't question it.

[Jacuzzi watches him with a blank but mildly confused expression. He's sure that would make sense if he has any knowledge of the medical field. But then again he has absolutely none so that is flying right over his head.]

I don't understand any of that. [At least he's honest.]

[a knowing smile and a light shrug]

Exactly.

... You might have to write it down.

[He appreciates this so much. But he's gonna need to remember it.]

[CAN DO, BUDDY.] Ah--absolutely.

[let's see what does he have to write on? there is the pad of doctor's note forms but...he...probably should not use one of those. did anybody leave a notepad on the counter here...? no? damn. what about the pockets of his utility apron? ...nothing there either?]

[wow, uh. this is embarrassing. he probably should've just left to find something right away instead of making it REALLY OBVIOUS HE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT HE'S DOING.]

[bites his lip, eyes dart away, he gingerly sets everything in his lap (folder, notepad, pen) on the counter beside him.] Just--one moment. I'll be right back.

[scurries out...]

[IT'S OKAY YOU DIDN'T JUST COMPLETELY RUIN YOUR CREDIBILITY BY FAILING TO HAVE SOMETHING HANDY TO WRITE ON AND WASTING HALF A MINUTE SEARCHING. NORMAL PEOPLE GET THROUGH SITUATIONS LIKE THIS EVERY DAY WITHOUT FEELING LIKE IDIOTS. THE KID IS MORE CONCERNED WITH HIS OWN PROBLEMS THAN WITH JUDGING YOU FOR NOT BEING PERFECT.]

[...is what he's telling himself while he digs up a notepad and writes down what Jacuzzi needs to know. he mostly manages to talk himself out of feeling bad about it, or at least to ignore that he does.]

[he returns a couple minutes later (sorry to keep ditching you Jacuzzi), WITH THE NOTEPAD, and tears off the note to hand it to him. It includes the general bullshit explanation he gave, and also explains some of the terms it uses. spontaneous- sudden and without apparent cause; hyperpigmentation- when areas of skin are significantly darker than the person's natural skin tone; vitiligo- a condition that causes patches of skin to lose pigmentation]

['do you have any questions?' is what he should be asking, but he is still just a little out of sorts, and forgets.]

[Ahaha, this kid could kiss Ravi tbch. A few seconds alone lets it sink in that there's some kind of excuse he can give to most people, some kind of reason to look like a freak, some way for them not to judge him. He seems like something has been physically been lifted off his shoulders after this. Even if he can't take his finals, the worst part of it, he has an excuse for this whole tattoo thing.

Honestly the kid looks like he's going to cry. No, he fully is going to cry, his eyes welling up with tears, which he scrubs at with his sleeve and sniffles, covering his face as best as he can.]

T-thank you... so much... I was startin' to think I was really screwed.

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