Radek Jeppersen (radek_janovsky) wrote in birthrightrpg, @ 2021-01-25 11:32:00 |
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Entry tags: | cj johnson, radek jeppersen |
Flashback - Sunshine Medical Centre, 2004
What: First meeting
Who: Dr Ben Gregory (Radek)/CJ
“Harley Gilmore,” Dr Ben Gregory called out, reading the name from the file he’d been handed by the clinic nurse as he came out to collect his next patient. He glanced up and saw the young boy and his mother quickly gather their things and head towards him, the young lad nursing his left arm with his right hand. The immortal could see the bruising and swelling under the melting icepack the nurse had provided when they’d arrived.
“Come in, come in,” he said gently to the two of them, taking in the red-rimmed eyes on the lad and the anxious face of the mother. He guided them into the treatment room rather than the examination room he was using, figuring it was better to get the lad’s wrist at least X-rayed and strapped sooner rather than later.
Twenty minutes later, with the young boy in the capable hands of the nurse practitioner, Ben came out to see the next patient. “Chris Johnson?” he called, looking up from the file to see who responded.
It was almost two years since he had found his way to Nevada on his big USA trip and something about the area drew him like a moth to the flame, so much so he had decided to not go back to Australia and before the end of 2002 he had all the paperwork required to study at UNLV where he had started a degree and was now about half way through his Bachelor of Arts in Secondary Education.
He ended up in the clinic rooms of Sunrise through a stupid mistake that was solely his own making, Chris knew the consequences but still he had to try it out. Ever since discovering the energies that flowed through Searchlight he had felt his own abilities growing and now and then he’d try something a bit more advanced, push those limits. But of course the more he pushed them, the more they pushed back. Today it was a tension headache that was bordering on a migraine, thankfully there was no nausea or vertigo, just the throbbing behind his eyes and his entire forehead. Most other clinics he had visited had refused to give him anything stronger than codeine, he’d see what the doctor here thought.
Lifting his head at his name Chris stood up slowly and walked over to the doctor, catching a glimpse of his own reflection on the way in he knew that he did not look well at all. “Hi,” he said softly, knowing he’d get led to an office or somewhere.
Ben observed the young man’s walk, and face, and a light frown momentarily creased his brow as he turned and shepherded him through to the examination room. “Please, take a seat,” he suggested, indicating the standard chair beside the desk as he sat in the swivel chair, placing the open file on the desk in front of him. He could see there was no patient history in the decidedly thin folder so guessed this was the young man’s first visit here.
“I’m Dr Gregory, and what can I help you with today?” he asked gently, eyeing the face of Christopher, confirming his age was 21 on the document. The pain he was clearly in had given his complexion a greyish hue, and the eyes indicated to Ben there was a headache involved. A few hundred years experience of clinical diagnostics had given him a good grounding in identifying at least the basics, and those who were faking stood little chance. Christopher was clearly not faking.
Taking the offered seat Chris was glad that the lights in this office weren’t as bright as those in the waiting room, he swore it had made his headache that much worse, but he had been able to get an appointment that day instead of having to wait a week like other places had told him.
“I think I’ve got a migraine brewing,” he said, looking up at the doctor with a crooked and pained smile. He also knew that he’d be asked for a medical history, so Chris pulled out a well folded sheet of paper that had typed on it just about everything a new doctor would want to know, it was much easier letting them read this then having to explain it every time he went somewhere new. “As you can see it’s not something new and it runs in my family.” The main sufferer was his grandmother - a hydrokinetic like him and she got headaches if she overdid it, sometimes after the lessons that she had given to hone his abilities. “Over the counter pills just aren’t working.”
Ben took the page and unfolded it, reading it through thoroughly. The fact the young man had typed it all out told him almost as much as the words written there. The well-worn creases, the clear diagnostic language told him Christopher was a regular ‘first timer’ at different medical centres. He read the background of the family, the details about his grandmother’s migraines and vertigo, along with other family members. The immortal leaned back into his chair and turned to look at the young man, elbows resting on the arms of the chair, fingers steepled in front of him.
One of the greatest achievements of mankind had been the development of machinery and technology that gave non-invasive insights into the human body and aided in diagnostics like never before. Madame Curie had provided windows to the internal workings like never before, and it had led to the technologies that kept advancing. As an Eastern medicine practitioner had told him many decades earlier, ’Today’s Western medicine provides the diagnosis of modern illnesses, let’s us see what’s wrong, Eastern provides the medicines. Prevention still better than having to cure!’ Having spent centuries stitching soldiers back together Ben had often wondered how he could find a cure to Man’s need to fight.
“And the other doctors you’ve been to?” he asked gently. “What have they said?”
One of his aunts was a nurse, so he had learnt the correct terminology and what doctors look for in a medical history when he had typed it out, only updating it when something important needed to be added, or if the paper started to tear from where it lived inside his wallet.
“They just take my blood pressure or check my lungs and heart, then tell me to take Advil or Excedrin Migraine and send me on my way, even if I tell them they don’t work they just say to take some more or to lie in a dark room,” Chris said honestly, this doctor seemed different compared to the rest that he had seen, maybe he’d actually get something and not be seen as just some college student looking for pills. “If either of those helped I wouldn’t be here.”
Ben nodded his head, agreement with the young man’s comment clear. “So no-one’s suggested any scans, or x-rays?” he asked. A family history of migraines didn’t automatically mean that was just how it was.
He shook his head, this doctor actually seemed to care. “Nope, some seem to think I’m faking it and just want to sell the pills to other students.” Chris let out a sigh. “It’s not like they happen all the time, only when I push myself too hard and get near exhaustion.” Even though he didn’t say what it was that made him exhausted, doctors didn’t need to know his secret.
Again Ben nodded, fingers still steepled in front of his chest as he listened. There was something Chris wasn’t telling him.
Causes of headaches were far ranging and as varied as could be. The human brain a fascinating conglomeration of tissue, nerves, blood vessels all encased in a skull meant to protect it. Too often he’d had the opportunity to investigate it up close, more often without the benefit of modern day equipment and facilities. What he’d learned had taught him that there were as many causes of pain as there were stars in the night skies. And most of them were as distant and unknown as those very stars.
“Push too hard at what? Exhausted from what?” he asked, head tilted to one side as he watched Chris’s body language and face.
Chris would get the typical dehydration or tiredness headache, especially in the middle of studying binges but they’d go away with a couple of Advil and lots of water or rest, same went for the similar headaches from pushing himself just a bit, but when it turned into the throbbing tension headache and if Excedrin didn’t help then it was going to be a bad one.
“Studying or swimming. I’ll go for a swim if I need a break from the books, but sometimes I lose track of time and end up doing lap after lap.” That wasn’t a lie, he did love swimming and would often do dozens of laps in the college’s pool to unwind from a long day of classes, except this headache was from trying to control that water, not just from swimming in it.
Sensing Chris still wasn’t telling him the full story, but unable to put his finger on just what it was he was leaving out, or why, the immortal leaned forward. He reached over and took Chris’s wrist, placing his fingers on the inside, glancing at the clock waiting for six seconds to pass as he counted the man’s pulse. It was a strong steady beat, perfectly normal for a healthy young man capable of swimming such distances. As he spoke he pulled the sphygmomanometer out, getting Ben to rest his arm on the desk as he placed the cuff around the upper arm.
“So from physical exertion?” Ben clarified. “How long do they last?”
It wasn’t unusual for Chris to swim at least a mile or two during these times, the longer distances did tire him out a bit but if anything it refreshed him and let him focus on something other than his lessons or whatever else was on his mind at that moment. He watched as Doctor Gregory checked his pulse and then took his blood pressure, both which he suspected were typical for his age and condition.
“A combination of physical and mental I think,” Chris answered. “A day, maybe day and a half at the most. I just try to sleep it off but it’s not easy living on campus.” Unfortunately he couldn’t afford to live elsewhere at the present time.
Ben again nodded, scratching lightly at the beard that he currently wore. “And does the sleep help?” he asked, careful that his curiosity did not cause him to allow his accent to slip. He was in Las Vegas for a short time, scoping out properties for both himself and some friends, and identifying whether he could come to make the city home for an extended period. To do this he was using an alias that was highly disposable and sporting a beard and southern accent.
Chris was in no condition to notice things like that, the doctor could start talking in Swahili and he’d just nod or shake his head in response. “It does, unless I get vertigo and the room starts spinning if I lie down. But that hasn’t happened for at least a year now.” Although it rarely occurred unless Chris had a full blown migraine, and those rarely happened thankfully. “I’d just like my head to stop pounding.”
During the brief examination Ben kept an eye on his patient, observing, and eliminating options. While he wasn’t one for just prescribing pills for the sake of getting a patient out of the door and another one in, he had spent too many centuries without the benefit of readily available drugs to ignore the amazing properties they held in their tiny shapes. Or at least some of them. Many times he’d ended up prescribing natural remedies that had had his patient giving him somewhat strange looks right up until they’d started to feel better, and their lives had been improved. It was always good to mix the ‘East’ with the ‘West’, and help an individual have a better quality of life.
“How often do you get them?” he asked, adding, “as in is it say two or three times a year, or more often?” Seasonal changes were also a huge factor in some conditions, the diagnosis and treatment of some mental illnesses having improved astronomically when environmental conditions were first started to be included in the considerations. “And have you always had this, or has it only been something in your adult years?”
He sat there to let the good doctor do his thing, moving or breathing when asked during the examination although for most of the time he kept his eyes closed, which seemed to help reduce the throbbing headache, if only a bit. His mother had raved on about how acupuncture had helped her ‘lady issues’ a few years beforehand so it wasn’t like he was against eastern medicine and if it cured his headaches Chris really didn’t care what was suggested to him, well other than something like ‘powdered bull’s penis’.
“Maybe half a dozen times since I moved here about two and half years ago,” he replied, eyes opening again to look at the doctor. “I’d get occasional headaches when I was a teenager but nothing this bad. And yes, I get my eyes checked regularly and no problems there.” His eyesight was perfect, that was something he was grateful for. His teenage headaches were mainly due to studying stress, be it school work or the ‘extra curricular’ studies he did with his grandmother learning the simple things.
After a few more questions and answers Ben nodded to himself. “I would like to send you to have some scans done,” he told Chris. “So much is hidden from us, and these can give insight without having to actually… you know… “ He paused, looking at Chris’s head and vaguely waving a hand in that direction before finishing with, “look inside.” The concentration on keeping his accent straight, and not be himself when posed with an interesting case was very trying, but Chris’s situation wasn’t so uncommon - migraines were something that science still hadn’t been able to solve with a simple solution, they were a symptom of so many different ailments.
Although he didn’t really like the idea of going for scans and tests due to the extra cost, at least Doctor Gregory seemed to actually care which was refreshing in itself compared to his prior visits to Vegas clinics, even the one at the university just gave him some Advil and Tylenol and sent him away. “Is there something you can give me now that’ll at least take the edge off? I’ve gotta get the bus back to campus,” he asked, hopeful of anything that might ease the pain
Ben thought for a long moment, then turned to his desk, rifled through a lower drawer and sat back up again, a clear glass bottle in his hand, some capsules inside. There was no label, they were not commercially produced, but a concoction the immortal had spent centuries developing and refining, and the contents of the capsules certainly didn’t have FDA approval, they were a mixture of substances developed over a long period of time, and time, plus many different opportunities for trial, had shown that in some cases they helped the sufferer. And as far as Ben knew they’d never caused any seriously detrimental side affects. The user might have had some interesting dreams in some cases, but those instances were rare.
Opening the bottle he tipped one into the palm of his hand, and recapped the bottle, returning it to the drawer. “Now I have a special blend of some herbs and seeds that may offer some relief from the pain,” he said, the capsule still in the palm of his hand as he spoke. “It isn’t a medicine, and is not something you find on the shelf, even in the most advanced apothecary’s premises. You are welcome to try it, if you want, or not.” He placed the capsule on the pad on the corner of the desk and stood up to get a glass of water from the sink in the corner of the room. When he returned he held out the glass of water.
Chris looked down at the pill first in the doctor’s hand as he was told about the content of the little gelatine capsule, and his eyes followed it as it was placed on the pad. “Right now I’d be willing to try just about anything.” Picking it up between index finger and thumb he had a look at it before taking the offered glass of water in his other hand. The glass was brought to his lips, a good mouthful taken before he tilted his head back and dropped the capsule in, both swallowed down quite easily, and thankfully there was no weird aftertaste from this mystery medicine.
What Chris hadn’t realised was that the glass that he was now handing back to the doctor was covered in tiny ice crystals that formed patterns which seemed to emulate from where his fingertips had touched it, like the patterns frost formed on a car’s windscreen in winter. Maybe something in his subconscious could feel the presence of someone else that was unusual, whatever it was had escaped his notice in his headache induced state.
Ben’s gaze had been drawn to the glass as the crystals had formed, his eyes widening as the patterns expanded. “Well, well, well!” he murmured to himself, some of his pretence falling away and a little of his native Czech accent sounding softly. “What, or should I say who do we have here?” he continued, looking from the glass to Chris and back again. He reached over and took the glass, curious to see if the temperature of the glass itself had dropped and that was what had caused the crystals, or what was going on. As he looked closer it was very clear to him that they were in fact formed from where Chris’s fingers were touching the glass, the body temperature of Ben’s hand as he took the glass causing the crystals to start melting as quickly as they had formed.
“Is there something more you’d like to tell me?” he said, a little drily, as he looked from the young man’s face to the glass and back again.
He tried not to take a nervous swallow as the doctor stood in front of him with the glass and its melting ice crystals. “Must be your imagination, I can’t see anything,” Chris said in a neutral tone, hoping to bluff the doctor and get out of there as soon as possible. It was the last thing he wanted or needed, to be subjected to a bunch of tests because he was ‘different’, that was one thing he had been warned about, to keep his abilities secret because he’d end up getting studied like a guinea pig.
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why Chris was denying what was plain for them both to see, and Ben completely understood. His own life had included times when he’d been tortured and killed over and over, be it by drowning, stabbing, or the most painful and difficult to recover from, being burnt at the stake. His immortality had been both a blessing and a curse, and despite his best attempts he’d not been able to find either its source or how to replicate it in others. And he’d tried.
He nodded and sighed softly as he sat back down, placing the glass on the corner of the desk. The one way he could think of to immediately put Chris at ease with him, and to talk didn’t involve words, or explanations. Instead he reached inside his trouser pocket, withdrew a penknife, opened the blade and looked at Chris. “You can talk to me,” he said simply, then drew the surgically sharp steel across the palm of his hand. At first blood welled up, his now cupped palm holding it all as it formed a small pool. Within a few seconds it stopped filling, his other hand picking some tissues from a box and clearing away the blood to reveal the sliced skin beneath sealing back up. If one looked closely enough there were infinitesimally tiny blue sparks visible where the flesh closed together again.
“So, I say again, is there anything else you’d like to tell me?” he said, his accent now his own native Czech as he looked up at the young man opposite him.
He watched as the doctor spoke and then cut his hand with the knife, wincing even though it didn’t seem to hurt the other man in the slightest, while Chris didn’t see the sparks he could see the skin knitting itself back together until there was nothing left, not even a scar and it was then that he let out a sigh, somewhat of relief. Of course he knew that there were others in the world like himself, gifted or ‘not quite human’ but he hadn’t met any, well he probably had but they had been hiding in plain sight like he tried his best to do. But now, now someone outside of his family circle knew and it felt like a weight was lifted off his shoulders.
Reaching out he touched the glass again, the crystals forming as before but this time the water inside of the glass froze solid. “I get the headaches if I try to do anything too big. I formed a whirlpool in the school’s pool last night, I think that’s what did it,” he admitted.
Ben watched as the water turned to ice, his curiosity now running fully unfettered, only controlled by his understanding of how Chris might be feeling. “A whirlpool? In the pool?” he repeated, nodding slowly. He’d heard of some who had abilities to control and manipulate elements other than the magic-users, sorcerers and those of that league, but he’d not met one with the ability to control water in such a fashion. It had been purported that the biblical parting of the Red Sea had been an example of this, along with many other phenomenon recorded in such scriptures. “You are… what they call a ‘hydrokinetic’?” he asked, now sitting forward on the edge of his chair, eyebrows raised in his excitement and curiosity.
“I usually only do small things like this.” He nodded down at the glass that had now turned from ice back to water but seemed to be forming a whirlpool as Chris focused in on it, “Lately I’ve tried to go bigger, see what I can really do but it usually ends in headaches.” It would take a lot of time and practise to master the bigger things, but he was curious to see how far it could go even if headaches were the end result of these trials. “Yeah though I also heard someone call it water bending. Runs in the family.”
“Water bending,” Ben repeated softly, his eyes fixed on the swirling water in the glass. “This is truly amazing! Your ability is to be applauded,” he told Chris, his eyes wide with wonder, glancing up at Chris’s face then back to the glass. He stared at it for a few seconds longer, then remembered why Chris was there.
“But you say your headaches, they come from when you do something big, something like the whirlpool in the pool?” he asked, now back into his medical mode, the new information rather critical to his ability to diagnose the real situation. “For example you are doing this small thing now, and normally it doesn’t cause you these migraines?”
This was the first time he had ever shown it to anyone else and could see that Doctor Gregory was truly fascinated by even this smallest and simplest of ‘tricks’. And even in the space of the past few minutes Chris was sure he could feel the effects of the pill taking hold, the throbbing seemed to die down, just a bit.
The whirlpool stopped and the water went back to its normal state when asked about his headaches. “No, small things are almost second nature… for example you giving an injection or setting that kid’s arm while the bigger things would be like advanced surgery on the smallest parts of the body, taking a lot of focus and attention.” It was the best analogy he could come up with and hopefully it made sense.
“Yes, yes, of course,” Ben replied, nodding as he processed the information, understanding the analogy. He’d also noticed the colour slowly improving in Chris’s face, and the eyes starting to clear a little, all signs the medication he’d provided was doing its work. It pleased him, especially as he was now convinced there was nothing so much ‘wrong’, medically, with the young man, but in fact more a condition of excessive ‘training’ fatigue. He explained, looking for some more signs of his theory as he observed.
“I am beginning to understand what you may be suffering,” he explained, “and the medication I have given could help, but must be taken only with great caution. There are some ingredients which could cause dependency if used too often. I suspect with time you will develop your strengths and be able to manage your condition with very little side effects, like an athlete as they train and push themselves, there is pain before the gain. You can take note of this pain, it will guide you, and you can learn about yourself, learn about your ability, understand more how to manage it as you try different things.” He nodded, then continued, head bent a little forward as if he was looking at Chris over non-existent glasses.
“And as with an athlete, if they stop, if they take extended break, do not maintain some fitness, it can be that they lose their strength such that if they attempt to again perform at that same high level, there will be pain, and perhaps not the same level of success.”
Chris definitely understood what was getting explained to him and the analogy of an athlete training wasn’t one that he had thought of before but it was all true, the mind was just like a muscle and he had strained his by trying to do too much too soon. “I have noticed that sometimes I get a twinge of pain like a sudden muscle cramp here,” he rubbed at the back of his neck where it joined the base of his skull, “when I’m trying something new. I should probably stop ignoring it and take it as a sign that it’s time to quit before I end up back here.”
It all seemed so simple, but maybe it was his desire to explore and push himself that he ignored these signs from his body, though at least now there was someone in the medical field he could confide in and would help him if he ended up in a situation like this again. “Thank you, whatever is in it has done more than the Advil ever did.” Though he knew it would be a last resort, he didn’t need to become addicted to pain medication and lose his future goals.
Ben nodded, smiling broadly as Chris clearly started to get what Ben had been saying. “Yes, yes, that’s good, you listen to what your body is saying. This is good. You will know what the pains are, whether it is good pain, or bad pain,” he explained. “Good pain can provide you with encouragement, that you are getting stronger and broadening your reach, bad pain will tell you when you have pushed beyond limits you are not yet ready to breach.” Ben looked at the young man, studying his face for a few seconds.
“You have abilities that are powerful and will grow, as you learn how to develop them. You must do me the honour of keeping in touch, and if I can help you again, you can always reach me at this number.” Instead of taking one of the medical centre cards from the card holder on the desk Ben took a card from his pocket and handed it to the young man. “This number will contact me any time, whether I am here, or not.” The card had no name, just a cell phone number. “I travel from time to time, so there is no point in having an address,” he said, leaving out why his name was also not included.
With the headache slowly starting to clear it made Chris feel good to have finally found a doctor who understood, of course it helped that they were both… different, a common bond that made it much easier to trust someone with such secrets. It was as if the doctor had gone through similar situations and he would definitely take in all this advice and only push himself until he hit that good pain and not past it.
He took the card, noting that it was just a number but it didn't need an explanation, at least not to him, he was still getting used to the name Chris and would often forget that people were talking to him. "Oh, I'll definitely keep in touch, it's nice to find a doctor I can finally be honest with. Thank you." He took out his wallet and slid the business card in behind a few others. "Hopefully you won't be seeing me too soon." He smiled.
While Ben would love the opportunity to study Chris and his abilities he also knew his short time in Las Vegas was going to be over in a few months. Once he’d located an architect who could design his new home to suit the property he was negotiating he would leave Las Vegas for a few years, then return under a new identity. It was the bane of the life of an immortal in this age of developing technology and facial recognition, to have only a limited number of decades in one place before questions were asked about appearances and aging.
“Feel free to call, even for any questions or mere conversation,” he offered the young man. “I’m used to receiving calls at odd hours,” he added with a wry smile, “and I would like to learn more of your abilities, and see them developed.”
Vegas seemed like it was the place to reinvent oneself, or at least that's what Chris thought, just another face in a city of tens of thousands of people, not a town where people knew him or his family. The narrative of his life still held a lot of truths but there were just as many lies or half truths that no one seemed to question.
"I'll definitely keep you updated on that front." Chris said, extended his hand out to shake the doctor's. "Just as long as you promise not to poke me like a pin cushion." Though he doubted that would happen, the good doc seemed fascinated by the hydrokinesis, and he felt like it was getting much stronger the longer he stayed in the area.
Ben stood and shook Chris’s hand, a smile wide on his face, his eyes alight with the excitement of having met Chris. “I’m glad our paths have crossed, and may they do so again, under better circumstances of course!” he said happily, then added with a half shrug, “or even if you do push yourself too far and require some help in managing the consequences.” He patted their linked hands. “I suspect you will not abuse the medications,” he added with a nod.
Chris had seen what abusing drugs could lead to and he definitely didn't want to end up like that.
A soft buzz came from the phone on the desk, one of the square buttons lighting up in red. Ben glanced down, mouth twisting with concern and looking back at Chris. “I need to take this, it is the hospital, if you can find your way out OK?” he asked.
"I can. Thanks again!" Chris gave one last smile before heading towards the door.
Ben turned and picked up the phone, “Dr Gregory.”