Elise & Harry know that its like father (like_son) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2012-12-10 15:10:00 |
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Entry tags: | hansel, harry osborn |
Who: Elise & Toby
What: Hospital Room visits
Where: A rehabilitation facility.
When: Recently.
Warnings: None.
Given the fact that Dr. October Fischer had seen Elise back in Phoenix when she ended up in the hospital there, it was really no surprise when he was contacted by another Las Vegas hospital that the girl had been brought in for another apparent suicide attempt. It was the sort of news that he hated to hear, that perhaps he hadn't really helped as much as he thought he had, but there were limitations in the practice of medicine. Every attempt to treat the patient with all that they had available would end up for naught if the patient never spoke up again that the problem had returned. And that seemed to be the problem with Elise.
It took only a small amount of paperwork to see to her transfer to the hospital he was working out of, giving him plenty of time to see to her night and day. There was a certain amount of personal interest he had vested in the young woman, and when the news came through from the nurses on duty that she was showing signs of consciousness, Toby made his way to her room, taking a seat at the side of her bed, her chart in hand as he looked it over.
There was something quite personal when it came to people like Elise, those that wanted to take their lives for whatever reason they felt called for it. Losing his father at a young age, then suffering through his mother's own attempt to take not only her life but that of her children, Toby knew first hand what it was like to watch someone degrade to that point, and he was determined to help people, at least as long as they wanted to be helped. Pulling his glasses off, he gave a long look to the woman laying on the hospital bed, covered with the thin, institutional bedding, and he had to let out a sigh. Life was precious, he believed that much, and he could not imagine putting that willingly at risk. But that, he supposed, was why he was the psychiatrist and not the patient.
While in the emergency room, it was determined that the alcohol - strangely enough - is probably what saved her. It diluted the acidity of the developing chemicals enough to keep the stuff from eating through her stomach lining. After successfully pumping her stomach and dosing her with the necessary charcoal to absorb any lingering poison. She slept through it all, even the transfer to the next facility onward. Maybe it was a familiar road for her, because she slept like a baby. Right up until the moment that the doctor took a seat on the edge of her bed. Groggy, she winced with a slight turn away from the shadow with the hand chart.
"Was.." German fell from her lips as she tried to find gravity and ground. The bed was too warm and soft, it took her a few moments before she opened her eyes. So blue, so clear. Recognition came then, with so much blinking. She knew him.. and there was a sloppy, dreamy smile.
"Hey, Doc.."
The sound of her voice, tired and full of sleep, drew his attention from her chart, closing it and letting it rest at the foot of the bed, away from blanket covered feet. The smile he gave her was warm, though tinged more with concern than anything else at that moment. “Elise. It’s good to see that you’re with us again.” Hands clasped in front of him, fingers laced together. “How are you feeling? Any pain? I can get the attending, if you would like.” Toby reached out, brushing an errant strand of hair away from her face, taking care that his fingers never lingered longer than would be professional. “And I hope that you do not mind that I had you transferred here. They contacted me after you were admitted.”
There was an issued sigh at the touch of his hand, somehow familiar in an unfamiliar land. A flutter of lashes later and she could focus on him, his voice. The doctor. He was warm, even if the circumstances weren't. Recognition brought a subtle sound up from her throat where everything still felt a little raw. She wasn't blind, he'd always made more of an effort than the others. There'd always been a different kind of interest in him. She didn't know what it was or what it stemmed from, but it was there. Even now, it was there. "I'm fine," she murmured. It was a barely there voice and when he continued on about the attending nurse, she raised a hand. Stronger this time, "I'm fine."
Clearing her throat, she glanced around while straightening in the bed. "How long do you think I'll be here?"
“Some water, then?” he offered, and without waiting for an answer, he leaned over to take up the pitcher near her bed, filled the cup with the bendy straw, and the offered it to her, his brows lifted as if to say he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer right then. “And I’m glad you can say you’re fine after what happened.” A flicker of a smile, there for just a moment before it faded, leaving him to push his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose. “As for how long...” Toby trailed off, pushing up to his feet for to stand, hands clasped behind his back as he looked down towards her.
“I’m recommending, at minimum, 72 hours, though that may be extended if I feel it necessary.” His shoulders dropped down as he let out a sigh, reaching up again to rub at the bridge of his nose. “And after that, you and I are going to talk regularly. I don’t want this to happen again, Elise. Alright?” Moving back towards her bed, he reached out a hand, head tilted to one side. “I don’t like to see anyone end up in the hospital like this, especially someone as vibrant as you are. So we’re going to figure this out, aren’t we?”
She made an appreciative sound at the mention of water and turned an awakening blink toward where he poured the cup. She took it after a momentary quirk of eyebrows, amused at the bendy straw. "I like that," she said. All playful German on the cusp of a breathy accent, admiring the bendable plastic. So childish. She seemed to admire it for a long time, until her cheekbone dug down against her shoulder. Then she took the cup of water, although she did not sip from it.
"Seventy-two?" There was a bit of a laugh at that, exasperated. As there was so much work to be done in that time, even if she wasn't getting as much work done these days. Elise found Las Vegas uninspiring, or maybe it was the fact that she'd been cooped up in a penthouse suite for the last month with very little options for release. Maybe that guy on the forum had a point about looking into a lawyer, but when her agent held the reigns as to whether or not she was a danger to herself, negotiating contracts became touchy subject matter. Seventy-two hours didn't seem excessive, but Elise knew her agent and that rattlesnake would be fighting for release after twenty-four. Because even if it wasn't always the ideal arrangement, he did pull his weight when it came down to it. That's what business was about. So as far as that seventy-two hours held up, well.. they'd have to see about that.
"Figure what out?" Taking a breath, she coughed gently before taking at last a sip of water. "This is just a misunderstanding." Like all of the other times.
That was the thing about Toby. He might have been this side of soft spoken, not so willing to raise his voice in anger, but that did not mean, by any stretch of imagination, that he was someone who could be bowled over by those with bigger personalities than his own, especially when it came to his world and his specialty. “A minimum of seventy-two hours, yes. It’s standard in these sorts of cases.” His hand dropped to his side and he took another seat beside her as she sipped at the water. “And we’re going to figure out what’s wrong. This wasn’t a misunderstanding, Elise, and I would appreciate it if you didn’t treat me like an idiot who doesn’t know better, yes?” There was a part of Toby that could be quite no-nonsense, unafraid of facing the truth of a matter. A lesser person might not have been able to see their mother into an institution with her own illness, after all.
Unfortunately for him, Elise's personality was nearly combative when met with resistance. Her expression hardened with steady blue eyes above the rim of that plastic cup, and she drew back slightly with a twitch in her brow. What exactly was he accusing her of? Even now, even after all that they had been through, she had the ability to narrow those hypnotic ocean eyes with scalded pride. "I was drunk, Arzt.." The German came through like a rattlesnake tail. It was the first and only warning of her temper. "Check the hospital records," her blood alcohol levels had to of been off the charts, all things considered. Dropping her eyes and pushing the water away for a wobbling seat on the bedside table, Elise took an exhale that was anything but calming before she lifted those eyes to him again. Challenging from beneath the lavework fringe of dustbowl lashes. "Accidents happen."
“You drank developing chemicals, Elise,” Toby said flatly. “I don’t believe those are the sorts of things that happen when one is drunk. And being drunk is the only thing that actually saved you from being in the morgue rather than here in this bed.” He was not threatened by the woman, this person he had become fond of since meeting in Phoenix, but fondness did not equate a gentle hand. If anything, Toby was less likely to give in to her demands because of that fondness. Reaching out, Toby pulled the glass of water further onto the bedside table, preventing a spill, meeting her gaze moments later. “If it was an accident, fine. But I’m still keeping you here for a minimum of 72 hours for observation, Elise. That is non-negotiable. You can burn holes through me all that you wish with your gaze. My job isn’t to make you like me, it’s to make sure you’re well enough that an accident like this doesn’t happen again.”
She'd always felt that doctors had a way of talking to her like she was some child, and this one had never been very different. He had kind eyes, but there was a deep rooted knowledge in them as well. Under other circumstances, she'd have taken him as an unwilling subject for an endless spew of polaroids or vintage black and white. But right now she didn't have a camera, and even if she did, she found that she did not like him very much. She knew that those kinds of feelings weren't returned by the man in the medical coat, but Elise had never been the kind of coy kitten flirt that used maneating to get her way. Seventy-two hours? "Fine." It was said with flippant disinterest. She'd survive. "Is that all," she finally asked with a glance his way. She wanted her phone call, but this wasn't jail. Still, she suspected there was a way, there were usually terms and conditions for telephone use in these kinds of places, but it was not impossible. She needed to get ahold of her agent.. and then they'd see how quickly this house of seventy-two cards tumbled.
Toby didn’t say anything for a long while, seeing the way she closed off from him with the shutters of her eyes. Finally, he rose to his feet, made a note on her chart, and then moved towards the door. “Yes, Elise, that’s all,” Toby responded, and there might have been a hint of sadness in his words. Doctors in his field didn’t expect to be liked, but still, he wished there was something other than coldness directed to him at times. “A nurse will be in to check on you in a bit. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ring for someone.” Lingering at the door for a moment later, he glanced back towards her, but said nothing before disappearing through the door, closing it in his wake.