doctor I'm damaged

[not_as_i_do]

Who: Alec & Martin
What: Alec gets transferred to a new specialist...
When: July 29th
Where: Stuyvesant Cardiothoracic Suite in Manhattan
Rating/Warnings: It's Alec, there will be language. And discussion of internal organ stuff. We'll label anything else in the comment headers if it comes up.


The Stuyvesant Cardiothoracic Suite was nestled a few blocks away from its eponymous park, equidistant to the towering blue - and far more imposing - Beth Israel teaching hospital. From the outside, it looked like any other medical office in New York City, tucked into the a towering, relatively modern structure. A sign in the spartan, modern lobby directed patients to take the elevator to the second floor, and the elevator car smelled faintly of antiseptic and urban haste. But any trace of the stereotypical doctor's office disappeared the moment the patients entered. The waiting room was walled in glass, and had been situated to allow the most natural light in through the tall plate glass windows. A few comfortable chairs and loveseats ringed a coffee table, facing a flat-screen TV on the far wall. It was on low, currently showcasing that safe choice of waiting rooms everywhere - the home and garden channel. Underneath the soft volume of the television, anyone with keen enough hearing would be able to notice a white-noise machine thrumming diligently away at the end of the hallway which led to the nurse's station and Dr. Whitly's office.

Comments

[scotch_egg]

He doesn't care if it looks like Aunt Tildy's Kitchen in Dorset, which was a restaurant he'd never been to and never cared to go. A Doctor was a Doctor was a Doctor. And this one looked like it would cost several arms and legs, maybe belonging to a small colony. He sat in an overstuffed chair and folded his arms and scowled at magazines like Forbes and Fortune 400-- Town and Country. The only thing even approachable was the New Yorker but even that leaked pretentiousness off it like a miasma.

He hated it. All of it. He just wanted to get in and get out. Especially since it finally clicked why the name Whitly was so familiar. He hoped it wasn't the same one but somehow he knew he wouldn't be so bloody lucky.

[not_as_i_do]

Martin had spent the morning reviewing the case files. One of the transfers he'd been waiting for insurance to approve for weeks had finally come through, and when he saw the brand-new file that had been cobbled together from the shared documents, his hand hovered over it for a moment before flipping it open. Alec Crowley. The world of the Different just kept getting smaller and smaller with every day.

He skimmed the file and frowned, easily tying some of the previous physician's notes with observations he'd made when he'd first met Alec at the Support Group - his complexion, his mention of poor sleep habits and not being able to have coffee ... despite drinking several cups of it. It was a disturbing picture, one which would have concerned him a great deal even if he hadn't already begun to get to know him outside of a professional milieu. Be that as it were, he was perfectly capable of separating work from outside life, and he stepped out into the hallway with the file tucked under his arm and his most approachable smile.

"Mr. Crowley, come right on over." He held out a hand, even though they'd already gotten that pleasantry out of the way. Some things were just habit.

[scotch_egg]

"Bloody hell." Of course it was him. Who else would it be. He sighed and took that hand perfunctionally.

"First of all, I get that you like to present a certain something, but don't sit there grinning at me the whole time or false sympathy. I don't need any hand holding or beating around the bush so don't treat me like an old man or a child, alright?" That out of the way he shoved his hands in his pockets and waited for Whitly to lead the way.

[not_as_i_do]

"Wouldn't dream of it," Whitly frowned ever so slightly. "I'm going to treat you like what your file says you are: a man in a precarious situation. Why haven't you followed your previous physician's recommendations? It isn't as though they're just polite suggestions or matters of opinion. Your numbers speak for themselves, but that's only telling me what's wrong with your heart. I'm hoping you can shed a little light on what's in your head about all this."

[scotch_egg]

"This is not a therapy session. I'm not going to give you my deepest darkest secrets, childhood fears, hidden ambitions. We're not going to end this hugging and shitting rainbows, alright? I'll do what I feel I have to and you tell me how much longer I have left within your capacity to do so. That's how it's going to work."

He got lectured enough by everyone else, and he wasn't about to start getting told off by a doctor he already couldn't afford.

[not_as_i_do]

My, that was even more defensive than he'd been in the past. Martin blinks a little, listening placidly: he has a feeling Alec is used to getting his way by being this bold and rude, but he is in the business of health and survival, and it's his duty to not back down unless given reason.

He breathes in slowly as he opens his office door. "There's no doctorate in psychology hanging in my office. Have a look for yourself."

The whole thing follows the theme of the waiting room, if a touch cozier. A potted palm sits in the corner, adding a little life and extra oxygen, and Martin's little desk is flanked by comfortable chairs. This is clearly a space for consulting, not for examination.

"I just want to know your own goals for your health so we can get you there. Are you looking for an alternative to a pacemaker, then? Tricky, but might be possible under the right circumstances."

[scotch_egg]

Thanks, he hated it. It was too cozy. Too cloying. With just a smack of pretentiousness. Come in and be comfortable it said, but also be impressed. Alec was neither. He edged into the office and folded his arms.

"No. Not looking for an alternative to anything. Just tell me how much longer I've got. Not going to ask for an actual date but some sort of idea."

ugh sorry, I had to think on how he'd handle this and then there was Ellie

[not_as_i_do]

"As things stand, right now? With your current lifestyle, prescription regimen, et cetera ...?"

Martin kept his tone and expression as neutral as he could. If Alec wanted to just live out whatever he had left doing the bare minimum, that was his right as a patient ... and he didn't need to know how much Martin didn't care for that line of thinking. Especially not for someone near his own age, who could have so much more time left.

"A couple of years."

no worries

[scotch_egg]

It was either that or risk dying unexpectedly on the operating table. His chances of success were not high and he'd rather go out on his own terms with things set in place so at least he wouldn't end up as much a loser as he went in. A couple years was still a fairly good estimate.

"Is there going to be any warning? Mobility effected at all?"

[not_as_i_do]

"Weakness in the legs," he says, his tone quiet but steady and solid. "You'll also start to experience edema, which is a fancy way to say fluid buildup. Most patients in your situation, staring down the second stage of heart failure, see it present as a swelling in the feet, ankles...sometimes the abdomen."

He paused, pursing his lips. "Alec. I'm not going to dissuade you from whatever you want, but as a doctor, it's my medical and legal duty to inform you that with this condition ... Once you enter a stage, there's no recovering back to the previous."

[scotch_egg]

"Christ." He ran a hand through his hair. It wasn't a pretty picture. He wasn't sure how bad he would actually look, but he was smart enough to assume the worst. It wouldn't be too difficult to hide but the moment it started he would have to find some way to leave.

"Right. I'll notate your good advice in my will." And he was serious about it really. No use causing legal troubles for the man. "Just let me know when it sets in so I can pack up and go. And you're not to tell any of my family about this alright? No matter how much they badger you. No one needs this on their plate and they ride me enough about it already."

[not_as_i_do]

"Mm." He nods slowly, and makes a note to that effect in Alec's file. He really does wonder what makes him so reclusive about his health, this sudden downturn, and then realizes it may have something to do with ...

"Oh."

He closes Alec's file and glances around the room, as though someone might be listening. But then he remembers the door is closed, and the nurse and receptionist would have no way of hearing. Even so, he leans forward, lowering his voice.

"It just occurred to me, Alec. Do you think ... your condition is related to being Different? As in: have you seen any evidence in memories that your other self has similar heart problems?"