simon_doctor | (no subject)

(no subject)

Jordie,

I don't know whether I just did something spectacularly stupid or just avoided doing something spectacularly stupid. Possibly both.

How's your week been?

Simon

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"No," he says, startled and somewhat indignant. "Are you insane? That's a terrible idea. I'm just saying it wouldn't be breaking any law if I did."

"Well, if you're not going to do it -- what are you going to do?"

"I'll probably speak to the regular local security. Ask them to assign someone to keep an extra eye on the infirmary."

So the privatized army. Because that never goes wrong.

"Over some cannabis?" Jordie's eyebrows have ratcheted up a notch. "Have you considered instructing patients not to take candy from strangers, instead?"

"The cannabis isn't the problem." He sounds mildly irked.

"No, it's not." Jordie just sounds mild.

Beat.

"All right. From what I've told you so far, what do you see as the problem?"

"Well." Jordie runs a hand through his hair. "How often do people show up in that infirmary offering a second line of treatment?"

In an unconscious near-echo of the gesture, Simon rubs his forehead again. "I don't recall it ever happening before. Not without speaking to one of the doctors. Of course, that could just mean it's happened before and gone unnoticed."

"...has anybody died?"

"That I suspect we would have noticed. No."

"Any reason not to post signs saying don't feed the patients without asking a physician?"

"I may do that. I'm not sure that would have stopped this particular case, but it might stop others."

"You think that's maybe a better place to go before you go for the private army?"

"The trouble is, there's two different problems. Keeping people from unintentionally endangering the patients, and ... dealing with this man in particular."

A little quieter: "You didn't see him, Jordie. When I say he was angry ..."

Jordie waits.

"Have you ever talked with someone and ..." Trying to find the words; his hand makes a small grasping motion in the air, palm up. "And just felt a tremendous potential for violence? Like they're consciously holding back from punching something?"

"Yeah," Jordie says.

His expression doesn't change.

"It was like that."

He rubs a hand across his mouth, half-consciously.

"So why?"

Calm.

"Was it aimed at you? Did he know the patient?"

"No. -- Yes to the first, no to the second. He didn't know the patient."

Beat.

"I'm fairly sure it was aimed at me. For not having taken sufficient care of the patient's pain."

Jordie's brow furrows.

He doesn't say anything.

(Simon's into frontier medicine; standard protocols may not have been available.)

He glances up.

"It's a complicated situation." Quietly. "He came to us directly from his own treatment facility, and we didn't have access to his medical file, and I didn't recognize the drugs he'd been given already. I was worried about unexpected interactions."

Jordie's expression clears, and he nods.

"Still." Low. "Understandable. If that wasn't clear."

"Very much so. I'm sure he thought his actions were completely justified."