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Post by Deleted on Dec 9, 2017 6:21:08 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. Another single, dry, sad and breathy laugh tightened his chest when she spoke of the circumstance, his face wrinkling from the ache of the chuckle as he mentally reprimanded himself to stop and responded with a strained "Likewise, Miss." Of course he was always happy to hear of another soul that appreciated music. Alistair slowly did his best at readjusting his posture and positioning to the form she'd suggested, shoving his introverted uncertainties aside with only the thought of his students and responsibilities to them.
Ripping off a band-aid as fast as possible made it hurt less; in this case, the guilt and fear he was starting to accumulate. It took a few long seconds, but he'd leaned further against the back of the bench with as straight of a spine as he was able - stopping at a tight discomfort that held him like an invisible wall he simply couldn't move past. "Stomach's empty," he let his shallow breaths catch up, "I don't f-eel like I can," a breath, "sit up further. Sorry," he shook his head barely, shutting his eyes to try to focus and ease himself for both of their sake.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 9, 2017 6:36:15 GMT
Senri watched critically as Alistair complied, jotting a note in her notepad about his difficulty in sitting up straight. She waved off his apology by shaking her head firmly and replying in a warm voice, "No, that's actually perfect. I just need you to avoid compressing your chest, is all." She set aside her notepad for the moment, not worried about dirt or dew staining the open pages. "Okay," she continued, "I'm going to listen to your chest now. I'm going to have to get under that suit - it's very nice, by the way - so I'll need to get everything untucked. Don't worry about helping me with it, and I apologize in advance for the wrinkles." Though she said that, she did wish he could. For a moment, she thought longingly toward the pair of heavy-duty trauma shears she had tucked away, but shook off the temptation for the moment. Instead, she followed through, easing him back and forth as needed with as much care as she could manage. She flipped up the tail of his suit coat and settling him back against it as she untucked his shirt, puttering around and leaning in with a fine - if unconscious - disregard for propriety. That done, she rubbed the bell of her stethoscope between her hands in a cursory attempt to warm it. "There," she said. "This is probably going to be chilly, so sorry about that, too." Then, with no further ado, she slipped her hand under the shirt while holding the bell, causing it to hike up on his back. She placed the stethoscope bell between his scapulae and listened closely, watching the rise and fall of his chest and occasionally shifting the bell until she had listened to the upper, middle, and lower lobes of his lungs.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 10, 2017 3:48:04 GMT
[attr="class","ohlove"] [attr="class","lacking"] [attr="class","eyes"] ✎ tag: @skycat ※ wearing: Here.✉ notes: Coldcold, closeCLOSE. both were silent. the air in my lungs, my hands on the keys. There were certainly worse things that could happen to a suit. He gave a worn, sad smile as a silent thank-you her way at the compliment and even his best low hum to keep from moving in any way she didn't want him to while they both worked to free the properly tucked attire. Oddly physically immaculate for a teacher, his muscles tightened harshly in reaction to the cold metal as it brushed against his side to move around his back, also earning a decent gasp from him in surprise.
Her closeness was not something he was used to - neck and chin awkwardly extending the best they could be in the opposite direction in order to give her space. She was practically on top of him when her arm moved around his back and whatever bubble of personal space he'd thought he had before was practically nonexistent. Though he knew she'd need to be this close, he hadn't been away just how unready he was. His skin wasn't warm beneath his layers of clothing to shelter him from the early winter winds. It was hot. In patches. His lungs, though healthy, strained under the audible sound of his upper, left ribcage's weight that had begun to press against them. The deeper the breath, the wider the lung, the less space in his chest. "It's okay," he spoke just as much to himself as to her.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 10, 2017 4:29:51 GMT
For the time being, Senri was too absorbed in her examination to notice Alistair's additional discomfort. A corner of her mind noted the abnormal heat of his skin when she inevitably brushed against it, felt even through her glove. Her focus, though, was occupied with gauging his rate of respiration and, just as important, its quality. What she discovered brought a thoughtful frown to her face. The wheezing wasn't diffuse but rather was localized in the upper left lung. "Of course, that only narrows it down so much. But at least I have something to focus on now." With the bell still pressed against his back, she looked up to question him about it, only to at last notice the awkward craning of his neck and chin. With a quizzical tilt of her head, she took several moments to process the response before it clicked. She sat back on her heels, having the grace to blush, though in the dim light of the moon it was unlikely the faint color would be noticeable anyway. "Whoops. For shame, me. You should know better. Situational awareness, girl!" she chided herself, "At least he was a gentleman about it, poor man." Clearing her throat quietly, she recovered her composure.
Withdrawing the stethoscope, she allowed it to hang free, trading it for her notepad and pencil once again. Noting her findings on the increasingly complete form, her brow furrowed. "What I'd like to do is start on palpation and percussion for that lung, but I don't even have his blood pressure yet. Not his pulse, either." Looking up once more, she said aloud, "It sounds like the hitch in your breathing is originating in the upper left lobes of your lungs. I'll revisit that in a few moments, but first I need to take your blood pressure and pulse." Once again not waiting to finish speaking, the notepad and pencil were both set to the side again as she produced a folded blood pressure cuff and aneroid sphygmomanometer from a leg pouch, which she deftly assembled. "Hold out your arm, please. I need you to hold as still as you can when I take the reading. The gap should be big enough that you can rest your elbow, at least, on the bench behind you."
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Post by Deleted on Dec 10, 2017 4:55:27 GMT
[attr="class","ohlove"] [attr="class","lacking"] [attr="class","eyes"] ✎ tag: @skycat ※ wearing: Here.✉ notes: Lobes? Er... both were silent. the air in my lungs, my hands on the keys. It seemed forever while she leaned over (or practically against) him to listen with the stethoscope that warmed against him the longer it remained along his skin. Even still, uncomfortable though it might've been, he kept his neck stretched away from her both out of unease and of respect. Focusing on the breathing was much more taxing than he would've ever thought it to be and the longer he tried to even it out for her the best she could, the more it ached. He looked at her intently when she leaned back and began to let her expertise show through her words, his neck and chin settling back into a more natural position as he listened.
He didn't know the first thing about "lung lobes", but she didn't seem extremely concerned. Maybe it felt worse than it was and he'd be up and at-em in no time. Something to hope for. If only he was that optimistic... "Uhm, okay," he nodded, extending his arm slowly until he let it rest on the opening of the back of the bench seat, grimacing a tad at how it stretched the front of his chest. This hadn't been at all how he saw this night going. Now, he was counting down the hours to the flight home.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 10, 2017 5:37:49 GMT
Once Alistair raised his arm, it was immediately apparent that the standard cuff probably wouldn't fit, especially with the suit coat still on. Exhaling quietly in dismay, she said with genuine contrition, "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I need to get that suit coat off. If I roll it up with your shirt sleeves, it will almost certainly interfere with the readings. And it looks like I need to switch to the large cuff anyway, come to that." Detaching the cuff from the manometer and air bladder as swiftly as she had put them together, she folded the cuff back down and, with some juggling, traded it out for the properly sized cuff. Unlike most of her tools, these wouldn't be hurt by a short stay on the grass either, so they joined her notepad and pencil at her side. The manometer and air bladder were placed neatly on top of the folded cuff regardless, though.
With that done, she turned her attention back to Alistair, considering the problem presented by his attire and once again thinking of her trauma shears. That option would certainly hurt less, at the very least. But the laws concerning liability loomed large in her mind. She did not want to risk a court date if the man should later decide to sue for damages to his clearly expensive finery. "I'm not on the clock, and he doesn't seem to be in a hurry to go into respiratory arrest, thank the Lord. So that leaves the hard way." Aloud, she said, "Now, if you can shrug off the shoulders of your suit, I'll help you with the sleeves." Working with Alistair as carefully as before, she got the suit coat off. With that done, she unbuttoned the sleeves of his shirt and hiked them up until there was room for the cuff. With a mental grimace, she thought, "Gah. If ever there was a case of being inconveniently ripped, this man certainly fits the bill. Can't roll the shirt sleeves properly either. I'd almost prefer morbid obesity. Oh, well. At least it's not constricted this way." Recovering the assembled cuff, she slipped it into place on his near arm, the right side in this case. Placing the fingers of her left hand on his brachial artery, she worked the air bladder with practiced efficiency, first inflating the cuff and then keeping a sharp eye on the gauge as she released the pressure slowly, noting the point at which his pulse returned before rapidly letting out the remaining air. She repeated the process, but traded her fingers for the bell of her stethoscope. Having established the systolic pressure, she didn't need to inflate the cuff quite as much, but as per her training filled it to twenty millimeters of mercury higher than the expected pressure before deflating the cuff again. Through the stethoscope, she listened for the distinctive thumping, noting as before the point on the dial in which they began, but now also the points in which they first faded and then disappeared, with the latter being the diastolic pressure.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 10, 2017 8:10:49 GMT
[attr="class","ohlove"] [attr="class","lacking"] [attr="class","eyes"] ✎ tag: @skycat ※ wearing: Here.✉ notes: Shifting. both were silent. the air in my lungs, my hands on the keys. He'd hoped he didn't have to go removing his suit, the itch of needing to either immediately fold it or hang it in a closet stinging in the back of his head, but he tried to distract himself with the thought that at least it wasn't being sliced off like in the movies. The dull ache grew sharper the more he moved his shoulders, but soon she was able to do most of the work to pull it off and he was ashamed at how much effort it had taken to do something so little. "Sorry..." he spoke quietly again, head hanging a bit lower. His heart rate was slow but... heavy. Hard, deep, sending a stronger resonance and amount of blood per pump through his core while his blood pressure began to, slowly but surely, continuously creep up in numbers.
"You ride in an am-bulance th-en?" his small talk was horrible, but he needed something to fill the anxious silence, "modern day he-ro," the implication was delivered with his best attempt at a grateful smile through the discomfort, keeping his arm as patiently still as he could. Then the smile was harshly pulled away when his heart gave a heavy, violent pound and had him lurching forward enough to force the ribs that were meant to protect it to crack away from his sternum. His arm curled immediately, clenching the cuff while his hands grasped at his shirt in natural reaction as if it'd somehow help with whatever was happening to cause the painful break. The noise he'd made - the air having knocked from his lungs - was both thankfully and sadly muted with a strained grunt that desperately wished to be louder than it was. Alistair's eyes were wide with fear and he felt a wave of panic rising over him; breathing shorter, faster, and visibly unsure of how to physically cope or adjust to the sudden injury.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 10, 2017 8:35:12 GMT
While she remained focused on taking an accurate reading, Senri still registered Alistair's comments just fine. She shook her head with a wry smile in response to his apology. "Nothing to be sorry for. Just standard procedure, really." She fell silent as she watched the dial. Her initial reading using only her fingers was a bit on the high side, which wasn't too unusual. "Rode in one, drove in one," she replied breezily, "Up until I got my residency slot." What was unusual, and what nearly caused her to double-take, was the unmistakably pronounced difference in the reading with her stethoscope, a great deal higher than the expected 10-millimeter tolerance could account for, especially not so soon after the initial reading. Rather than the expected lull during the period of excess pressure, the Korotkoff sounds could be heard almost immediately. Her brow creased in a frown as she thought, "That can't be right... can it?" This was all the warning she got before there was a violent cracking noise from Alistair's chest, causing her head to whip around in reflexive consternation. Even before it completed the turn, her expression was already settling into one of practiced calm. Glancing down long enough to completely open the cuff, she placed her hands over Alistair's own and said in as soothing a voice as she could manage, "Here, let me see. I know you're scared, and I know it hurts, but I'm right here. I'm a professional, and we'll get through this together." She gripped his hands reassuringly before giving a gentle tug to encourage him to allow them to be moved so that she could gain access to the buttons of his vest and shirt. "Well, this is now a medical emergency. Never heard of bones breaking spontaneously, but I imagine that the popping sounds are related. And certainly much higher priority now."
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Post by Deleted on Dec 10, 2017 8:41:40 GMT
[attr="class","ohlove"] [attr="class","lacking"] [attr="class","eyes"] ✎ tag: @skycat ※ wearing: Here.✉ notes: Shifting. both were silent. the air in my lungs, my hands on the keys. His mind was nothing but panic, his body was nothing but shaken, and he found it impossible to quiet the constant shouting in his head - cluttered and crashing - until her hands calmly went over his own and brought him back to earth. Alistair's frantic eyes lifted to her face, his harsh and uneven breathing rushing through his teeth and shaking his entirety like he'd suddenly gotten a case of fever-proof hypothermia, and her soothing tone forced his brain to slow down. It was an anchor.
His eyes welled from the new sensation in his chest but dropped no tears and he forced himself to move his clinched hands down a ways to at least give her access. Not once did he take his eyes from hers, holding onto their sense of ease and peace to try and calm the best he could. "M-I hav-ing a h.. heart attack?" he shook out, eyebrows creased with the reality that he was actually hoping for a 'yes'...instead of being the next news story of all these poor, changed people. He'd lose his life, his students, his career. Everything.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 10, 2017 9:09:48 GMT
"That's what I'm going to find out," Senri replied gently. "I'm going to do a full chest exam, just in case." In truth, she wasn't equipped to give a definitive answer in that regard. That is, if it really was a heart attack. "Which it could be. I need to listen to his heart again anyway," she reminded herself grimly as she opened the buttons and carefully removed both vest and shirt, switching sides as needed to avoid any further awkwardness. Taking up her stethoscope once again, she placed it over his sternum and listened closely. If her hunch was correct, she was in for all manner of unpleasant crackling and crunching noises in addition to whatever abnormalities she found with his heart. Once she had heard what there was to hear, she would move on to assessing for organ damage and internal bleeding, but if it would help reassure Alistair even a little, this was worth doing first.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 11, 2017 3:24:25 GMT
[attr="class","ohlove"] [attr="class","lacking"] [attr="class","eyes"] ✎ tag: @skycat ※ wearing: Here.✉ notes: Shifting. both were silent. the air in my lungs, my hands on the keys. All manner of unpleasant crackling and crunching indeed. With every inhale, his newly detached ribs stretched before sinking back inwards. His heart, however, was... abnormally strong. Its pace was slow but its pumps were heavy, thick, and powerful. Its tone was deep - either enlarged and dangerous or seemingly in pique form. Regardless of the cold night air, his bare chest was practically a space heater. Thankfully the metal bell wasn't nearly as cold as it had been the first time she used it.
Over a small stretch if time, the other side of his sternum began to originate straining sounds as well above the cartilage - more agitated with everyone beat and breath. Only a matter of time. Alistair panted shallowly and his head fell back with shut eyes at the constant feeling that his chest simply, somehow, didn't have enough room. "It's," a breath as he thought for the words to use, "tight. It's too t-ight," his teeth clenched, muscles refusing to relax under the sensation of needing to brace. Alistair did his best to remain still and calm for her, but hell if it wasn't hard. It was clear that the longer she listened the harder it was for him.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 11, 2017 3:32:10 GMT
Senri was silent as she listened, her calm demeanor a mask held clamped over any reaction that might alarm Alistair further. Yes, there was the sound of crunching cartilage, but even that was nearly drowned out by the sheer volume of his heart. Meanwhile, several of his ribs visibly protruded below his skin along the left side of his sternum. "Okay, me, what have we learned? That those ribs are really off-kilter? That this definitely isn't a baseline case? I thought so, too. But hey, there's no murmur, at least!" Coupled with the indicator of it being 'too tight', which was hardly surprising, she came to the conclusion that she was dealing with a unique individual. 'Metahuman', the term was. "Someone like me. This is the first time I've met another one." She began a quiet, soothing litany to help him cope. "Easy, now. Easy. I know it hurts, but you'll get through this. Relax for me. I need you to stay calm. Just focus on my voice and breathe."
After she had given an opportunity for her efforts to take effect, she said quietly, "Okay, Alistair. The good news is that you are not having a heart attack. From the sound of it, though, you broke a few ribs, with more on the way. The only way that could happen when you're just sitting at rest is that they are being forced outward somehow, and I think your heart does has something to do with that. It sounds healthy. Just really big." She delivered her findings with unruffled professionalism, as if she encountered such things on a daily basis. Her expression softened with empathy as she finished, "With things actively growing and shifting about like this, it'll probably hurt more before it's through. I'll keep examining your chest and abdomen, but what I'll be looking for are injuries to organs and soft tissue. Not to put too fine a point on it, but your body is in the middle of a change that, if I had to guess, should be wrapping up sometime soon. Into what, I couldn't say for certain. I think you were justified in your reluctance to see a doctor and I think you'll be okay, but if my examination turns up anything like that, I'm afraid I'll have to call 911. Like it or not, I won't have you dying in front of me."
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Post by Deleted on Dec 11, 2017 3:57:15 GMT
[attr="class","ohlove"] [attr="class","lacking"] [attr="class","eyes"] ✎ tag: @skycat ※ wearing: Here.✉ notes: Shifting. both were silent. the air in my lungs, my hands on the keys. "Trying," he swallowed and gave a tiny nod with his rested-back head to her instructions. Her voice was easy to focus on, to lean into, certainly having a knack for panicky or emergency situations alike. Then again, New York was an enormous city... he supposed they couldn't afford to hire anyone short of gifted in the field. At the news of broken ribs, his throat whined sadly. How would he finish chaperoning his classes? "M-y heart?" Enlarged? How? He was an active runner, lifter, practiced cardio consistently- so unless he was... No. He wasn't. A change? Wait, a change of what? His head lifted and looked to her with wide eyes and as much of pale of a face that someone with a soaring fever could possibly have. "No, no" her news just got worse, and the mention of emergency services sent him over the panic edge, "No, you can't-! I have st-students, my job-," this wasn't happening...
Without meaning to, he'd leaned forward away from the bench and his legs tried to unbend in his fight or flight response. A sharp *SNAP!* later and he doubled over forward with his palms against the grass. His arms and knees trembled to keep his weight supported, cracks of structure echoing one after the other before his shoulder blades took their turns each growing and protruding frantically from his back beneath the tight skin. A short-lived cry was all he could muster as a single tear finally hit the ground through whimpered breaths. "No, no," he stuttered, a sob choking his grunts of pain, "Please, no, help, make it st-op!... "
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Post by Deleted on Dec 11, 2017 4:05:20 GMT
Senri's expression finally slipped, concern and alarm widening her eyes as Alistair first began to panic and then doubled over with the worst snapping sound yet before she did the first thing she could think of: Mindful of his broken ribs, her arms went around him as far as she could reach, equal parts comfort and an attempt to help support his weight. She could feel his skeleton shift and grow even without the cracking sounds as indicators, but she did not flinch away. This man had placed himself in her care, and she refused to fail in that responsibility. "Shh..." she soothed. "I've got you, Alistair. Everything will work out. It's okay to be afraid, but this isn't the end, okay? This isn't the end and you'll be fine. We just need to ride it out." Then, struck by inspiration, she concentrated and between one moment and the next, the strains of Bach's 'Aria' began to play, pulled from her memory and faithfully reproduced directly as sound waves. The music wound a gossamer cocoon about them, and a small corner of her mind wondered how he would react, especially when he found out the reason it was the first piece she thought of.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 11, 2017 4:45:04 GMT
[attr="class","ohlove"] [attr="class","lacking"] [attr="class","eyes"] ✎ tag: @skycat ※ wearing: Here.✉ notes: Shifting. both were silent. the air in my lungs, my hands on the keys. If her hold added to the pain, it was unnoticeable. Too many things moved, broke, reshaped, and stretch for him to distinguish. All in all, it helped. She hadn't left him and to at least know he still wasn't alone or completely lost in this was the only thing that kept him remotely 'near the ground', though not quite grounded. 'It's okay to be afraid.'
It was okay to be afraid...
A grown man crying was never something that anyone wanted to hear, but his were soft and mellow past the violent shakes and jolts his body twisted with. His size had never been a good indication of his spirit; quietly tearing on the grass in a park at night with a stranger - utterly terrified. The music- the music. Oh... He knew these notes, these phrases... every shift lessened in violence, slower and without so much aggressive anger at the keeper of its body, and his crying silenced to only small grunts from the larger pops that still shoved him this way and that. Then, as the music drew to a close, it finished. In a final stage of chaotic growth, the skeleton expanded with thick layers of lush, blonde fur sprouting through his skin. The form tipped over on its side; a heavy tail draped before her that slowly stretched in tandem with the tired rumbles of an exhausted animal.
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