hypoxic: (grieving heaven)
Leo Fitz ([personal profile] hypoxic) wrote in [community profile] entranceway2016-05-09 12:08 am

[Video | Action]

[Video]

[Fitz had intended to send this as a private message to Dr. Foster, but a sudden onset of dizziness and blurred vision meant a text message was out of the question. Video would have to do. He'd remembered to set the privacy settings, hadn't he? Probably.

He addresses the network with a bleary expression, glassy eyes rolling up into his head until he blinks to train them back into place. His skin is an unhealthy pallor, ghastly white with a rash of dark splotches tainting the deep bags under his eyes.]


Doctor Foster... I, ah... The samples from the tunnels? I've been performing analyses, and I've reason to suspect that they aren't quite safe... They react terribly to human DNA samples. It's... I'm not a strong enough biologist to reach a proper conclusion, but some sort of degeneration appears to be taking place.

I also think it might be in our best interests to quarantine off the remaining sediment. The dust has been... It's...

[He grimaces and clenches his jaw, bowing his head for a long moment. He doesn't finish his thought, jumping over to a different one instead.]

Would advise against further reconnaissance trips to the tunnels. At least until we've had more time to study.

[He clumsily gropes along the keyboard next. One of those button presses probably manages to post it. Probably.]



[Action]

[Those who thought the darkness was limited to the subterranean levels of Wonderland might be dismayed by a certain scientist's decision to bring a cursed object onto a higher level. Fitz, believing fully that "cursed objects" were silly superstitions, saw nothing wrong with the idea of bringing it topside for testing and discovery. That was before the illness struck. Now, there's just pain. Pain and... some kind of faint melody. It's too distant to make out yet, a soft buzzing at the edge of his thoughts.

After leaving his message, he abandons the lab entirely, with the intent to return to his room on the fourth floor and sleep until the illness breaks on its own. He's underestimated the frequent onsets of mystical pain, though. He'll most likely be a huddled lump of a person curled against a hallway wall, shivering despite a critically high fever.

He'll still argue any "taint" or "curse" talk, though. It's probably nothing that antibiotics can't cure.]
abelmedic: (tell me where are the sirens)

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[personal profile] abelmedic 2016-05-09 03:03 pm (UTC)(link)
Got it.

[Suit on, she roams out of view of the camera entirely, though there is shuffling and the telltale sound of pill bottles rattling under her voice as she calls back.]

Do you have any allergies, Leo?
abelmedic: (what good has the news ever done for me)

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[personal profile] abelmedic 2016-05-09 03:46 pm (UTC)(link)
That's fine. I never managed to match into that fellowship in interdimensional artifact therapy, anyway.

[She has most of a to-go house call bag at the ready anyway, and the trouble and mercy of what he's describing to her is that she's not sure she has medicine that would help with much more than symptom management. She does grab some triage and diagnostic basics, though, keeping him talking while she finishes sifting through their stores.]

So what do you do, Fitz? It's not every day I hear about people around here running DNA analyses.
abelmedic: (sing me a love song dear)

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[personal profile] abelmedic 2016-05-09 04:01 pm (UTC)(link)
Now there's a combination. I'll be picking your brain about that when you're feeling better.

[If, she's used to being the correct answer, but it really is when here. She doesn't know whether that's more wonderful or terrifying.]

Fourth floor, you said?
abelmedic: (fire's getting closer but)

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[personal profile] abelmedic 2016-05-09 04:12 pm (UTC)(link)
Be right up.

[She posts an away note to her office door and trots out, small duffel of supplies slung over her shoulder. After what happened a few weeks ago, it's impossible not to feel on-edge, but she reminds herself this could be anything. This isn't even necessarily infectious. Who knows what he was exposed to in those samples he was testing. Those samples that . . . apparently had some sort of disastrous effect upon DNA.

Right. Picking up the pace.

It's just a few minutes until Maxine's tapping at the indicated door, cracking it open before waiting for an answer.]


Fitz?
abelmedic: (crying oh anything at all)

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[personal profile] abelmedic 2016-05-09 04:31 pm (UTC)(link)
[Okay. Mask on, hood up, time to rustle in violently yellow and loaded for biochemical bear. Maxine makes her way over and crouches at his side, setting her bag down and grabbing a blood pressure cuff.]

Hey again. I'm just going to check some vitals on you right now, if that's okay. While I do that, do you think you can walk me through what you were doing before all this started?
abelmedic: (I've got to stay calm)

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[personal profile] abelmedic 2016-05-09 04:59 pm (UTC)(link)
[Oh, that . . . is not a reassuring rhythm. Or reading, for that matter, and the rest of the vitals are going to have to wait for her to start an IV. While she's in the bag, she double-checks that the defibrilator is in there, though if it comes to that-

-well. If it comes to that she'll cross that bridge in time. Right now she's calmly quick: looping a tourniquet around his arm once the cuff comes off, pulling on a second layer of gloves, swabbing the crook of his elbow with an alcohol wipe.]


Well, looks like whatever it was did a number on you. Sorry, but the needles have to come out now.

[The ease in her voice is half bravado, but at least her hands can move on autopilot through this part. A quick poke and she's threading the catheter in, taping and testing at a muscle-memory tempo before straightening to hang a bag of saline off the corner of his chair. (Cloth tape: it's not just for flesh wounds any more.)]

And when were you running those tests? Hours ago, days-?
abelmedic: (crying oh anything at all)

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[personal profile] abelmedic 2016-05-09 05:24 pm (UTC)(link)
. . . okay then.

[She takes and releases a deep breath, handing over the digital thermometer for him to put under his tongue. Small dignities, at least.]

Well, to be honest? Assuming this is an infection, you're looking pretty septic. Hopefully the fluids help your blood pressure, but if the onset from exposure was this quick, I don't want to wait for a full study on whatever this thing is before we try something to treat it. I can put you on broad-spectrum antibiotics for now while I look at that sample, and if your fever's dangerously high there's always paracetamol or ibuprofen. But that would be my starting point. Does that sound okay to you?
abelmedic: (tell me where are the sirens)

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[personal profile] abelmedic 2016-05-09 08:55 pm (UTC)(link)
[She lets him say his piece, then waits for the thermometer to beep before holding out her hand to take it back and see just how high his temperature is.]

I'll dig a Geiger counter out of the closet and take my chances. But right now your symptoms aren't screaming radiation poising to me. [And . . . right. That is a high fever. She digs out a packet of ibuprofen and a bottle of water, cracking open the cap before passing both to him.]

If this is infectious? We need a doctor with the right kind of experience out ahead of the curve before more cases crop up. If it's not . . . ? I do what I can. Maybe whoever does cure this gets some use of me as a second case. [Her quirk of a smile is hidden behind her mask, but a hint of it reaches her eyes anyway.] We get a couple of deaths here. This is worth one of them, easy.
Edited 2016-05-09 20:58 (UTC)
abelmedic: (Default)

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[personal profile] abelmedic 2016-05-09 09:48 pm (UTC)(link)
[Tinnitus. Or something like it. Tinnitus and a high fever and a cardiovascular system she's doing her best to keep from slipping into shock. Maxine's voice goes softer and she reaches out to put a gloved hand on his arm, trying to pull his attention back.]

There's no radio playing, Fitz.

[She gives a little squeeze, an effort at encouragement she knows will only ring hollow in words.]

Take the ibuprofen, okay? I'm going to finish taking a look at you and recommend you get some sleep.
abelmedic: (Default)

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[personal profile] abelmedic 2016-05-10 12:40 am (UTC)(link)
There you go.

[She pats his arm, and the rest of the exam passes in relative quiet, murmured instructions to breathe deep, look forward, say aaa punctuating the quiet of Maxine working. Her mind's already on overdrive, building a bloated differential that runs the gamut from toxin exposure through infectious causes to some sort of parasitic process. A handful of tubes of blood round out the data taken before she leaves him be just long enough to find the closet. She doesn't need much from it, just a narrow futon-esque mattress and some sheets, which she lays out on the floor near the chair.]

There we go. Not exactly the Hilton, but it's somewhere to sleep, anyway. [The IV's still going, but she unhooks it temporarily, just in the interest of him not pulling it loose while he moves.] How's that radio doing, Fitz?
abelmedic: (oh the flash then the silence)

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[personal profile] abelmedic 2016-05-10 01:15 am (UTC)(link)
Fitz? [Her fingers are on his wrist, but the reassurance of a palpable pulse isn't much, when she's watched him go from ill-but-conversant to unresponsive inside of an hour. She gives him a shake, knuckling into the bony point of his shoulder. Dirty trick, sure, but if he wakes up to yell at her she'll be just fine with that.] Leo Fitz, do you hear me?
abelmedic: (Default)

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[personal profile] abelmedic 2016-05-10 01:23 am (UTC)(link)
[Maxine releases a slow breath, nodding for the benefit of absolutely no one as she takes his arms and moves with the curl. It sort of just . . . rolls him onto the mattress with her easing him down, and she shushes, more of less letting him settle from there.]

Sorry I had to do that. [She pulls the chair around and takes up the end of the bag, hooking it up to his arm again with a practised twist.] What hurts?

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