Mac shrugged and nodded, "I saw Greg in the studio this morning and he said I looked like death, which is about how I was feeling, so..." he answered her as he paused for a moment and let her take all of the vitals.
"Well, I'm scouting talent for my boss - we have a band together, but he also owns a record label and it's getting about time we find some new sounds. Anyway, it has me moving around a lot and I'm just here for a couple of days." He pushed lank hair away from his face before tugging off his jacket and laying it over his lap. "It is work-related, largely. We carry our own gear around and you might have noticed I'm not in the best shape. Lugging amps and rigging gear around after an hour and a half set can really take it out of a guy. And I guess it's been really getting to me over the last couple of weeks. I wake up sore, go to sleep sore, I have constant migraines that make doing much of anything an major frustration... I need to be able to work. And function."
He took a deep breath and sighed, "And I'll be straight with you, because you look like the kind of woman who'll figure it out anyhow... It's an endless cycle - anxiety causing physical pain which causes more anxiety which causes more pain and it's so bad that my conventional methods aren't taking care of it anymore. I need something to take the edge off."