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Post by Deleted on Dec 4, 2017 21:29:51 GMT
It was a late Monday night, and Senri found herself running the pathways of Central Park once again. She preferred the daytime when the park was filled and she could do some showing off. At night like this, though, she could really cut loose. Here, deep in the Ramble, she skimmed the ground over the trail at a good clip, leaving no trace but the muted rustle of her clothing. Mindful of the overhanging branches, she visualized a myriad of other simple obstacles and, mid-air or not, traversed them as if they were as fully tangible to the world at large as they were to her. Her heart pounded in her ears, and she reveled in the feeling of "the flow" sweeping over her, that feeling of fulfillment and total awareness of self and surroundings. Tonight was a good night.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 5, 2017 0:40:04 GMT
[attr="class","ohlove"] [attr="class","lacking"] [attr="class","eyes"] ✎ tag: @skycat ※ wearing: Here.✉ notes: Week 1. both were silent. the air in my lungs, my hands on the keys. He'd told himself it was in his head, that he was fine. It took hours of looking in the mirror to convince himself to get on that plane; the love for his students and his duty to them winning out over his impenetrable anxiety. The fevers had gone down but the aches remained since the cracks last night-... God, the sounds they made, but nothing felt broken. That one night had to have been a dream, the hoarse rumbling in his throat and vivid colors of his own home that he'd never noticed before. It had to have been a dream.
After chaperoning them to the symphony orchestra he couldn't get out of the hotel fast enough. Everything felt oddly claustrophobic, too loud, and the nearest park still couldn't clear the sirens and horns from the city that never slept. Something had popped again. Well... a lot of somethings. He swore his ribs felt like they'd burst from his chest and it caused his fever to return, spiking in seconds as he hunched over behind the park bench and emptied the very little contents of his stomach. He hadn't much to eat the past day, his stomach felt so raw. Another pop and a shaky leg from the vomit had him dropping a knee and holding onto the metal-trimmed back of the wooden bench. He couldn't go to a doctor, no, because what if-?
He wasn't them. He wasn't one of them. He was just a music teacher. He had to be.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 5, 2017 1:50:26 GMT
Time crawled while Senri flew. All too soon, though, she approached a bench to her left on the trail that seemed not to be entirely vacant. Though the Ramble was well away from any lamps, the moonlight was strong enough and the sky clear enough that she could discern a figure hunched over behind it. She slowed as the sound of retching was carried to her on the still air, interspersed with very disconcerting and very distinctive popping noises. "Dislocating joints," her mind instantly supplied, and this was enough to bring her feet down to the ground and her guard up. "If it was just retching, I'd suspect a drunk purging the alcohol from his system. But something seems very wrong here." She resumed her approach, at a walk this time, deliberately scuffing her feet on falling leaves to signal her approach while still a good distance away. Since she was already well within earshot, she called out quietly, "Hello? Is everything alright?" Her preliminary assessment told her that the answer, of course, was a clear 'no'. But it was still one of the niceties that needed to be observed.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 5, 2017 3:22:39 GMT
[attr="class","ohlove"] [attr="class","lacking"] [attr="class","eyes"] ✎ tag: @skycat ※ wearing: Here.✉ notes: Terrible liar. both were silent. the air in my lungs, my hands on the keys. Something was coming up again but what on earth could it be? There was nothing left in his stomach to throw up, but somehow he'd managed to let out a decent amount of clear fluids onto the already-drenched grass. Though his hand remained on the back of the bench it did a poor job of holding him steady. Another God-awful pop had him grunting louder and hugging his other arm around his torso.
Something had broken, something snapped, it was the only explanation for the sharp pain piercing at the center of his chest. So, when he heard someone calling out to him at shock and surprise, he opened his mouth with some feeble attempt to respond and only coughed heavily at the wheezing in his chest. "F-ine," his hand lifted higher from the back of the bench and waved only once before draping back over. "Ah-... Bad food," he tried.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 5, 2017 4:44:19 GMT
The continuous popping sounds showed the man's words to be, as she expected, patent falsehood. Her eyebrow crept up in a dubious expression, and she shifted her weight to a hipshot pose, complete with a hand resting on her waist. She remained this way for several moments as she got a good look at the man's condition, her gaze sharpening at a particularly loud pop. "Well, he's nauseated enough that it could certainly have been bad food. It's sadly obvious that there's more to it, though." With a soft click of her tongue, she exhaled and returned to a neutral stance. Voice and expression gentling with empathy, though still carrying a no-nonsense edge, she replies, "Somehow, I doubt that very much." Reaching down, she flipped open one of her green cross-marked pouches and retrieved a sealed pair of hypoallergenic medical gloves. Opening the package and pulling out the gloves, she stowed the empty plastic for later disposal with an as yet ungloved hand before tugging each one on in turn. That done, she continued, "Here, come and sit down. Slowly now. Rest your forearms on your legs. Let them take your weight." As she spoke, she moved toward the man without further hesitation, clearly ready to offer assistance in spite of their difference in size.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 5, 2017 5:25:42 GMT
[attr="class","ohlove"] [attr="class","lacking"] [attr="class","eyes"] ✎ tag: @skycat ※ wearing: Here.✉ notes: Sorry about my puke xD. both were silent. the air in my lungs, my hands on the keys. Oh no, was he really feeling something in his throat again? How empty could a stomach possibly get? Why was the passerby coming towards him? "It's the flu," he tried to scare her off with the 'tis-the-season' sickness, shaking his head as he did his best to keep his equilibrium at the sounds of her walking around in a half-circle about the bench to be nearer to him. Grass had never sounded so sharp and distinguished. His arm kept around his lower chest, the bones content for now it seemed, and he dealt with the hot ache by staying still.
That was until, of course, he lifted his eyes up enough to see her pulling on medical gloves.
He flinched a bit and tried to lean back, hoping that his bent leg would push him up and off the ground to stand but really just managed to haphazardly scoot himself backwards a foot or so and lean awkwardly against the back of the bench with his shoulder and wheezing wince. He'd bitten his tongue at the tumble, disgusted at the tiny bit of metallic taste along it, and leaned forward to at least half-fulfill her command. It was all he could do after failing horribly at trying to say 'no', which didn't even get to escape his mouth. His palm, the one having held onto the metal of the bench, now pressed forward against a clean patch of grass. "It's gross, m'sorry," he grunted out, taking as deep of breaths as he could with slurred and nauseous speech, "Don't get sick."
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Post by Deleted on Dec 5, 2017 6:04:26 GMT
Indeed, the smell of sickness and bile rose strongly from behind the bench, but the man's apology and caution only provoked a slight, quizzical tilt of Senri's head, as if she hadn't even considered it to be of note. And this was indeed the case, for she replied with an unruffled, "Nothing to be sorry for, don't worry. I've seen much worse, believe me. Let's get you properly settled, né?" Having at least partially foreseen the procession of events, she was already kneeling at the man's side, only half-caring where her knees were planted but enough to choose a clean patch. Suiting actions to words, she reached out and very carefully helped the man into a more comfortable position in line with her instructions. Her manner broadcasted a sense that this was routine and practiced while her expression did not waver in its empathetic calm. "There, now," she said, "That should be better." Lifting her head, she met the man's eyes and fixed him with a gaze that was no less compassionate but that brooked no argument. "I'm going to investigate that popping next. Bones dislocating themselves, from the sound of it. Bad food and the flu don't do that. You have my solemn word that I will keep this to myself, so how about the real story?"
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Post by Deleted on Dec 8, 2017 23:54:01 GMT
[attr="class","ohlove"] [attr="class","lacking"] [attr="class","eyes"] ✎ tag: @skycat ※ wearing: Here.✉ notes: Sorry about my puke xD. both were silent. the air in my lungs, my hands on the keys. Getting himself to move was difficult in two ways; situating so as to take care of the pain in his chest and then also to not lean too heavily onto her. The poor thing... she was so small, she shouldn't be trying to help someone his size. A pang of guilt and embarrassment caught in his already-raw throat. Soon enough, he was seated on the cool (and dry, thankfully) grass with his back against the bench from behind and forearms hanging on his knees as she'd instructed to lean forward with his weight. It still made his breathing wheeze and ache but he shook his head with every word she said. It had been so loud in his head but he had hoped that's where the noise began and ended; in his head.
"I think I just p-ulled something in my ch-est," he swallowed and breathed between words with his half-truth, briefly looking at her and seeing her innocent, kind-hearted youth. Just looking at her - this good Samaritan caring for a stranger - had him hoping desperately for her safety that the dream only a few nights ago in his home had truly been nothing more. "When I was-," he motioned limply with his hanging hand towards the lawn that had just recently fallen victim to his stomach, "-over there."
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Post by Deleted on Dec 9, 2017 0:04:26 GMT
The man's self-consciousness did not escape Senri's notice, and while she appreciated the thought, it was an effort not to click her tongue again in response. His wheezing, however, was enough to provoke that reaction anyway, and she gave her head a slight shake. Allowing a hint of gentle reproof into her voice, she replied, "Listen to me, okay? I'm a trained medical professional. I think I can help you, but I need you to work with me. I can tell just by looking that you, my friend, are a hot mess, and I have a pretty good suspicion that I'll only confirm that with a better look at you. I'm prepared to do that, but I need your consent. Now, will you permit me to examine you?" She waited expectantly for the man's answer, hands already poised once again over the pouches on her legs, clearly ready to begin the moment he gave an affirmative.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 9, 2017 0:30:12 GMT
[attr="class","ohlove"] [attr="class","lacking"] [attr="class","eyes"] ✎ tag: @skycat ※ wearing: Here.✉ notes: Sorry about my puke xD. both were silent. the air in my lungs, my hands on the keys. A hot mess. Lord, was there any better way to put it? He let out a sad, humorless and airy chuckle at how absolutely spot-on that was now. He'd figured she was in the medical field with how incredibly calm she was and how precisely she instructed him to move. Alistair let his head drop to try and relax, the hot and aching sensation still throbbing in his chest as he remained as still as absolutely possible in order to keep the sharp pain from poking in his torso or, God forbid, another pop from occurring.
A thought came to him at her next comment. While at first his eyes looked up in attentive worry and hesitation at the mental image of the small woman triage-ing his tailored suit, his idea had him leaning his chin forward a bit too fast with a "Wa-it." He winced, jaw tensing for a moment at the quick movement. "No hospitals. No offices," that was his condition. He stared at her straightly, firmly, and awaited her answer. "No p-aperwork."
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Post by Deleted on Dec 9, 2017 0:35:52 GMT
Senri did not simply sit idly as she waited. She continued to observe the man's body language, and from what it told her, he probably would have appreciated being hit by a truck as the kinder alternative. When the man did speak, his response brought a none-too-happy frown to her face. "You understand that greatly limits what I can do for you, yes? By law, I'm a certified paramedic. I'm a medical resident now, but I do not have the legal right to practice yet. What I can do for you is to take your vitals, observe and note any symptoms, and refer you to practicing physician. If you insist, I can leave it at an examination, but I strongly urge you to follow up on your own." She paused for a moment, mentally casting about for anything more by which she could persuade him before gently continuing, "Besides, I gave my word to keep it to myself already, did I not?"
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Post by Deleted on Dec 9, 2017 0:48:19 GMT
[attr="class","ohlove"] [attr="class","lacking"] [attr="class","eyes"] ✎ tag: @skycat ※ wearing: Here.✉ notes: No doctors. both were silent. the air in my lungs, my hands on the keys. "I opted out of ins-urance," he swallowed with the fib, trying to get the lump in his throat to go down. It felt swollen and hard, like it had suddenly inflamed for no good reason. A paramedic with no legal right to practice-? This was turning out to be the only stroke of luck he'd had in weeks... but it still felt wrong to let the girl fall victim to his illness and lack of ability to take care of himself. He'd just wanted air, just a calming walk; was that so hard to get?
"Okay," he gave up in almost boyish defeat, shoulders dropping slightly at a heavy nod that had his head resting back down like a weight that hung off his spine. Had Alistair been in any position to feign further or try and talk his way out of it, he'd be walking away with apologies left and right for the inconvenience before heading back to the hotel, but he couldn't hardly even take a deep breath let alone stand to stride off or finish a full sentence.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 9, 2017 1:01:07 GMT
Senri winced sympathetically at the man's admission. Fib it may be, it was unfortunately all too plausible, unlike his earlier attempts at evasion. His obviously defeated posture only strengthened that sympathy. Still... "Fair enough," she replied. "Truthfully, though, you might not have a choice if you want to get past whatever this is. Let me see what there is to see first, though." As she spoke, her hands dropped to her leg pouches once more. In short order and rapid succession, she retrieved a stethoscope, which she unrolled and donned, and a pocket-sized notepad and pencil. With a rueful smile, she said, "Now that we've entered into a proper medical relationship, let's start with introductions. My name is Senri Mizushima. I was a paramedic for four years before I achieved my medical residency, and I maintain that certification on a state and national level. So I'm a doctor, but I won't be eligible to sit for licensing for another year and a half or so." Pausing for breath, she finished with, "That's me. How about you? What's your name? Dispensing with the nausea and vomiting, what would you say your chief complaint is?"
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Post by Deleted on Dec 9, 2017 4:01:28 GMT
[attr="class","ohlove"] [attr="class","lacking"] [attr="class","eyes"] ✎ tag: @skycat ※ wearing: Here.✉ notes: Pleasure to unfortunately meet you. both were silent. the air in my lungs, my hands on the keys. The more professional this short, little thing became, the less and less he felt guilty and the more he felt humbled and submissive to her expertise. His head was still low but he gave a few (very gentle) nods here and there to her words to agree without verbal fuss opposed to what he wanted to say. She was right, he was in no position. What if a student needed him and came looking? The sooner he was able to figure this whatever this was out, the better. Even if it was temporary. He'd just have to think of another way back home... But for now, the breathing was taking enough concentration.
Alistair lifted his head to look at her while receiving her introduction, seeing the minimal supplies she pulled out and in awe with impression at how prepared she was. Then again, he kept a keyboard in his trunk... Everyone had their 'every day items'. "Ah, uhm-," he was uncertain how much to divulge but kept his distance from home in mind. The least he could do was some bit of honesty. "Alistair. I teach. Music," he offered, then tried to re-situate his chest with a small shoulder roll and a hissed-out breath almost served as an ironic answer. "Can't take a deep breath."
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Post by Deleted on Dec 9, 2017 4:23:26 GMT
Senri's expression relaxed into a smile of encouragement as the man, Alistair, gave his reply. Admittedly, his initial expression when she pulled out the first of her tools contributed. It seemed that he was finally ready to take her seriously. "Nice to meet you, Alistair, though I wish it was under better circumstances. A music teacher, hm? Music was always my favorite class, after PE." She took up the pencil in her left hand and flipped the sturdy little notebook open to a clean page before beginning to dutifully jot down notes. Name and gender, chief complaint and other pertinent physical findings... These she knew, or could at least start filling out. "Okay. How's your stomach feeling now? I know I told you to lean on your knees like that, but shortness of breath changes the game a bit. Since it's your chief complaint, I'll start with listening to your lungs first. That's still a pretty good position to hold, but I need you to try keeping your spine straight and your head up, okay? I'd also like you to try tensing your shoulders a bit. See if that helps any."
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