fandom_clinic | Paperwork...anyone got a Bic and some lighter fluid?

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Paperwork...anyone got a Bic and some lighter fluid?

Sundays were usually a good time for the week's paperwork to get done. For some reason the majority of people did not, as a rule, get hurt on Sundays.

Of course, who knew if this place was going to follow that particular rule, but the size of the apartment -or lack there of- made massive paperwork projects somewhat impossible, so that left the Clinic.

Really, he was going to have to start getting out more.

For the time being, however, he was puttering about in the front of the clinic, using the chairs in the waiting room to help him sort and work on filing. He had his little radio with him and the dulcet tones of some song he yoinked off the internet played throughout the front room of the Clinic, keeping him company for the time being.

[ooc: Lazy Sunday if anyone would like to poke or needs to bleed.]

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Duce asks hesitantly, "You have the equipment for a blood draw from us?"

(ooc: The clinic would be aware that her blood has bizarre properties - very bizarre, and very, very random. However, the clinic also may have prepared for that by now. Up to you.)

Dark eyes flicked towards the snakes and then back and he looked a little taken aback.

"Ah...well I'm afraid you'll have to tell me. Have you had blood drawn here before? What sort of equipment would we need beyond the regular?"

Wilson was beginning to get the feeling that he and House should schedule a meeting with the head of the school to get an idea of those who made up the student body so they could try to make sure they were well equiped for everybody.

Duce catches the glance and offers in what she thinks is a reassuring manner, "Don't worry.. those vials of antivenom in your fridge are for them." Her hand gestures to her snakes, "And anyway, they're not feeling bitey right now."

Shuffling her weight from one foot to the other, Duce answers with a headshake, "No.. Dr. House hasn't drawn any blood. We've only been in here as a patient the once, and all he could do was dope us."

A brief look of dismay crosses her face, "Equipment.. well, at the very least, probably body armour. Possibly a bomb blanket. A fire extinguisher. Maybe an oxygen mask. A gallon of vinegar, and a box of baking soda in case it goes caustic. We.. really don't know. It's a different reaction every time. Sometimes it's harmless, sometimes it's merely annoying, sometimes it's funny, but sometimes.. more often than not.. it's bad. Exploding, eating through things, freezing things, chirping like a nightengale that won't ever shut up, hiding in an inconvenient spot so you slip on it the next time you walk by.."

Her head shakes helplessly, "We never really know. The past experiences have been documented in our file, which you should have unless our previous doctor's office dropped the ball on it."

"It's generally the biting I react negatively to and by negatively I mean curling up in a corner and whimpering like a baby."

Wilson gave her a weak smile.

"Well, don't have body armour, don't have a bomb blanket, do have a lead lined x-ray apron and gloves which might have to do the trick. Got the fire extinguisher and the baking soda and the vinegar. So... I guess we better prepare as best as possible for the worst and hope for the best."

He was smiling, nothing but supportiveness in his expression while inwardly he was plotting to harm House, severely, for his general lack of record keeping and for not warning Wilson about half the crap he was running into around here these days.

"The nightengale would be nice, I miss the birds come wintertime."

Duce shakes her head, "Generally, they're no threat unless we're in danger, and then.. uh.. well, they react like a predator." She decides against offering to let Wilson pet them to show him they're harmless. The mental image of the doctor pissing his lovely slacks isn't such a good one.

Sighing slightly, she nods. That's not a bad item list for someone with no notice. "If worst comes to worse, we can always blitz into big ugly form and try to subdue whatever happens."

A slight wince creases her feature, "Trust us, you'd get awfully sick of a nightingale who never. shuts. up."

A mildly disturbing image to be certain.

"Well...let's give this a try then and see what happens."

Waving her towards one of the exam rooms in the back, Wilson ducked into the room where the x-ray equipment was stored and gathered up the apron, the gloves and as an after thought, he snagged down a faceshield as well. He frowned a little as he put the gloves on, they were going to make the blood draw incredibly difficult but he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

A little burrowing about in another room yielded the glass tubing that was used to administer the cure for African Sleeping Sickness which was damn near acidic and so the glass was tempered and fortified.

Baking soda and vineger were last on the list.

Juggling the items, he walked into the room where she had -hopefully!- settled.

"Okay, now as they say..." Wilson pulled the apron on over his head and carried all the tubing and the like over to the exam table. "Nothing beats a try but a failure."

At Wilson's gesture, Duce heads into the exam room and removes her ~~bodyarmour~~ leather biker jacket. The shirt underneath is a simple grey men's t-shirt that is slightly too big for her. ~~Because Oz can't be here for moral support, but his clothing can!~~

Hopping up onto the exam bed, she rests her elbow on the arm and waits for Dr. Wilson ~~whom she still mentally refers to as 'Volleyball'~~ to reappear.

She gives the equipment a dubious glance but tries to wrangle an expression of brave enthusiasm.

Wilson gives her a knowing look, because no one is ever that 'enthusiastic' about getting blood drawn.

Reaching for her arm, he did a quick, deft exploration of the veins with his bare fingers, his touch light and comfortably clinical before he slid on the gloves. A look of intense concentration was on his boyish face as he carefully lined up all his equipment and then, with not inconsiderable skill and experience he set about drawing the blood.

Hopefully the blood behaved and headed for the vials, though truthfully the way the stick and the draw was set up, he gave the blood little choice but to behave. At least, for this first part.

He didn't want to consider what trying to get persnickety blood on a slide was going to be like.

Especially not when their blood does the kind of crazy stuff Duce's does. She peers at him as he examines her arm and tries not to flinch from the gloves. Oddly enough, she doesn't flinch as the needle goes in, continuing to watch in rapt fascination and slight trepidation as her blood fills the vacuum tube.

The blood goes into the vial without protest, leading one to believe that perhaps it's the contact with air that causes a reaction. Or maybe that's just the blood's way of lulling people into a false sense of security.

Duce isn't concerned with that, and doesn't even think of the slide thing - she frowns and concentrates on what'll happen when the needle slides out of the vein.

Well, one of the first things that happen is the small wound gets covered and pressure applied by one of those lead lined gloves.

Duce's hand nudges under the glove with a muttered, "Better let us do that..making immortality work for us again and all that." She watches her elbow with an expression of mingled fear and curiousity.

From below the cotton comes a faint hissing noise, like air from a slowly leaking balloon. Duce frowns at it. Noise is never a good sign.

Wilson nodded and removed his hand to allow Duce to attend to herself, as it was a safe bet that she had a better idea of what she needed then he did.

Besides, he needed to mark the tubes...and mark them damn well.

Duce patiently waits out the hissing noise, tensed and ready to spring if it does anything but hiss at her. This time, the blood is content just to annoy her. Which is a good thing.

She idly turns to watch Wilson lable the vials, and inquires, "Suppose we should have an entire battery of tests run on it while there's the chance, so we don't have to do this again anytime soon? We don't really know what you were planning for it. Don't know if there'll be many markers from whatever hit us last week. ~~Considering it was hypnotism..~~"

"That was my intention...with the hope that your blood cooperates." No, he wasn't being a smart ass, if it was one thing he'd learned in these past few weeks it was to take everything seriously, particularly after the whole living blood incident.

Duce's lips twitch, almost a smile, "Well, at least it's unlikely to turn into a pegasus or giant this time." She clarifies, "No chance of pregnancy."

She's a very comforting girl, Duce is. Having no clue about hospital procedure, she asks, "Can you still test it if it's frozen first? Dead blood is just.. dead. It's the live blood that gets tetchy. Maybe.. freeze it and take a slice for exam? Or do cells explode?"

"Well...human cells normally don't respond well to freezing. However..." Wilson eyed the vials in his hand thoughtfully, then looked to Duce.

"The idea is not without merit. You said that your records from another doctor should be here? I can review those for a baseline, then freeze a sample to see how it behaves. If the integrity remains and you think that would be a safer way to handle the blood then that would be a good course of action both now and going forward."

Duce nods, "They should've been forwarded when we enrolled. We're usually careful to make sure the local hospitals are prepared in case anything.. icky happens. The blood is fine when dead, but .. dead blood probably won't work for your tests. Freezing might work. Don't know, it's never been tried."

She scrubs the back of her neck with a palm, "Er.. baseline. Yeah. Good idea."

She doesn't mention the inch-thick stack of documentation on what her blood tests have done throughout her life. She figures Wilson will get to those in his own time, and she has no desire to watch him curl up under a table whimpering right now.

"Well...we try it and if it doesn't work, then we try something different."

Wilson heard the words come from his mouth a split second before the context in which he usually spoke those words rolled over his mind. Usually, he was saying something like that to the Stage III and Stage IV patients who came through his door, looking for miracles.

In the beginning stages, he always tried to be honest with them but at the same time, gave them the confirmation that they would try everything to keep them from dying.

Especially when talking to the children.

Pausing for a long breath, Wilson quickly shuffered the wayward, fractured memories back into the shadows, turning then to smile at Duce.

"So, we have good information to contact you at with the results? Or for help in case things get...complicated?"

"At least you're willing to try and keep trying," Duce comments softly, almost too softly to hear.

Hopping off the table, she throws her jacket back on over her shoulders, shrugging into it with relief. Safety blanket? Duce? Pshaw. Never.

As she readies to depart, Duce nods, "Our contact information is on file, it's a cell phone and we always have it. If you get voicemail, it means we're in class. If, for some reason, you can't reach us that way, we live at Efferton Manor, and both Wednesday Addams and Daniel Osbourne are authorized to take messages for us. They both know why we're here. If things get icky.. have the phone page us and call them to come get us. One of them always knows where we are."

She lists her roommates, not her parents or guardian. That should be odd, but.. maybe not so odd at FH.

The younger doctor made a couple of notes to reflect what she'd just told him and then with a small stamp of his pen at the end of the last note he turned with an easy smile.

"All right, I think we're set for the time being. If you experience the symptoms again or anything else out of the ordinary, here is a card for the Clinic and my direct page is on the back. Don't hesitate to use it."

Duce nods, saying "Thank you." Taking the card, she heads out, apprehension mingling with relief. At least now someone was doing something.. even if she wasn't sure whethers he hoped he'd find something wrong, or find nothing wrong. Both had about the same pros and cons.

Spotting Paige in the waiting room as she exits, Duce's face freezes into a blank mask, with only the faintest hint of disgust tinging the edges.

However, respecting the Clinic's rules, she says and does nothing, not even deigning to acknowledge the other girl's presence, before she heads out.

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Paperwork...anyone got a Bic and some lighter fluid?

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