Anastasia Romanova (nasha_anya) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-05-25 00:51:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, anastasia romanova, james wilson |
Who: Anastasia Romanova & James Wilson
What: First rotation in oncology
When: 5/24
Where: UC Irvine hospital
Rating: PG13, talk of death/dying and relationship-related unfyness.
Status: Complete
Anya was a little bit nervous - today’s shift marked the start of her time in the oncology ward, and she was both unprepared and a little awkward. She had no experience with dying patients, and she knew one had to be strong. The good part about it, at least, was that she got to work with Doctor Wilson, who was understanding and generally a joy.
She knocked on his office door as soon as she’d changed into scrubs, figuring she should get a briefing. “Doctor Wilson?”
Wilson looked up, eyes bright when he saw his new intern walk in. “Hi, Anya, how are you?” Wilson could say Anya’s full name with proper accenting, but he wanted her to feel as comfortable as possible.
She smiled. “All right. Thank you. Excited, but also nervous.” She could be honest with him; he and Doctor McCoy were cut from the same proverbial cloth in that they genuinely seemed to think there was no such thing as a stupid question. “You look well, also, if I may say it.”
“Oh, I’ll never turn down compliments. Have you had coffee yet today?” He stood up and went to the coffee maker he kept in his office. “I made up an itinerary for myself, but I made you a copy of it too. Just so you know what to expect.”
“Oh. Thank you. For both, yes please. Black coffee starts my day.” Anya smiled a little. “The coffee here is not like it is at home, so I drink perhaps more of it.”
Wilson smiled and poured an espresso for her and added some water to one for himself. He returned with the drinks and handed hers over, rifling through the papers on his desk until he found the itinerary. He knew exactly where it was, but sometimes he acted more absent-minded than he was so he wouldn’t look so neurotic.
“Thank you.” She accepted both things and started to look over the itinerary. “I appreciate being warned of some things ... I have little to no experience with such things. I mean, I have seen my brother with his hemophilia-B attacks, but they are usually contained, even if the disease could be life-threatening.”
“Well, for the first few days, you’ll just be observing. You can help change out IV fluids, or pitch in where you know what to do, but don’t worry about trying to help before you’re comfortable. The point of your internship at this stage is to be a sponge and absorb things.” Wilson patted her hand.
Oh, good. Anya nodded, allowing a relieved smile to come out. “I just didn’t want to run a risk of making a mistake. That would be very unfortunate.” She worried. She’d been worried a lot lately.
“Don’t worry. You’re not a full on doctor yet. Right now, you’re just slave labor.” Wilson smiled, his fingers moving to find the handle of his desk drawer. “You don’t look like you’ve been sleeping well.” Or eating well. “Would you like a muffin?”
“Oh, no, thank you. And I’m fine, just been somewhat worried about my boyfriend.” That ought to have been vague enough, hopefully. “Plus, I meet his sister soon!”
Wilson winced. “The meeting family period is difficult. I know it sounds cliché, but if you just be yourself, that’s the best way. You’re sure no muffin? I have chocolate chip.”
“Oh, I could not eat.” Anya shook her head. “And I am less worried about his sister than I am about him. He’s been having the terrible nightmares lately.”
“Him too, huh. I wish I could give my boring nightmares to people sometimes.” Wilson’s were very much like his waking life; he was an oncologist, he worked on patients. Blah di dah. Really, the only thing that was different was that his friend Greg House from back home was in them, and Wilson hadn’t seen him in a while.
“Boring?” Anya echoed. “Are they nightmares, if they were boring?” She looked down. “Mine aren’t as bad as Julian’s. They are being the historical Anastasia. But I did not see what happened to the family. His are ... I don’t know, he dreams of being demonic.”
“Well, I guess I just think of them as nightmares since everyone else calls their dreams nightmares.” He smiled a little at the idea of Anya being the historical Anastasia. She was certainly pretty enough.
“I suppose it makes sense.” She managed a smile. “I certainly hope they never get so very bad, though.” She looked down at the itinerary. “Should we begin to see the patients, Doctor?”
“We should, yes.” He patted her hand. “So, our first patient is terminal. Our job is to help this patient to be comfortable until she gets to go to hospice next week.”
“So there is very little that can actually be done?” Anya shook her head. “Hospice is for those who just need a comfortable place to expire, yes?”
“Exactly. It’s an unfortunate part of the duty of an oncologist, but at the same time, it’s needed. And if I can honor the end of someone’s life as much as I would the beginning or the middle, then I’ve done a good thing.” Wilson knew people didn’t understand how he could do what he did. Most of the time it didn’t bother him. He really believed that honoring people even in their final hours was important.
Anya didn’t get it, no, but she could be kind to people, regardless of the situation. “Lead on, then, Doctor.” She smiled a little nervously. She mostly was just afraid that she would be laughed at or told to go.
Wilson led her into the room. A woman in her fifties was laying in bed, dozing as the television played. But upon hearing the door opening, she stirred. “Is that my Doctor Wilson? Oh, they gave you a pretty intern this week. Come give me a hug, you.”
Obligingly, Wilson went over to hug his patient. He was a bit more familiar than most doctors there.
Anya blushed, but she just tried to be kind. “Hello,” she said, coming up behind the doctor. “I am Anya. Are you well, besides the obvious?”
The patient chuckled. “I’m as well as I can be, all things considered. Thank you for asking, sweetheart.”
Wilson grinned at Anya; it had been the right thing to say. “Want to help me with her vitals, Anya?”
“Certainly.” Anya moved into position, ready to help. This drill, she knew.
The patient, a Mrs. Sanders, sat quietly through having her temperature taken, her blood pressure checked, her organs listened to.
“Thank you, dear. You’re doing a wonderful job. Is it your first day?” The woman squeezed Anya’s hand reassuringly.
“In this ward, yes ma’am. I have done the emergency room rotation for some months.” Anya smiled, pumping the blood pressure cuff with her free hand. “Doctor Wilson is very good to learn from!” Flattering, yes, but also true.
Wilson chuckled, squeezing Anya’s shoulder. “We’re glad Anya’s here, she’s such an asset.” The patient nodded agreement.
“I can tell!”
Anya blushed, smiling shyly. She read Wilson the value on the blood pressure meter, waiting for the next directive. “I still have a long way to go, but I am glad to learn from here.”
“Well, you’re doing a wonderful job, as far as I can see.” Mrs. Sanders smiled and spoke with Wilson briefly about her pain levels. Wilson, for his part, adjusted her meds doses and spoke with her about her family coming to visit.
Anya finished up the mechanical things while Wilson chatted, making sure they got a complete set of data before they were ready to go. She smiled, listening to the conversation and contributing where appropriate. Still, she knew all the patients wouldn’t be this kind. Some would be angry. Hopefully she could manage.
She did. Wilson was excited to see the doctor she’d become eventually. Whatever specialty she chose, Wilson was confident she’d be amazing.
They worked through their itinerary, and eventually ended back in Wilson’s office for lunch. “Did you bring your lunch? Or do you want me to order something for you?”
Anya was tired and had correctly predicted that she’d want home-cooked food that day. “I have my own, thank you. I put it in your refrigerator in the morning.” She couldn’t resist gently teasing him. “Your gentleman friend did not make you lunch?” She knew that Wilson’s younger boyfriend lived with him, and they were very cute when they spoke on the network.
“Oh, Percy’s not very good at cooking. I’m the cook in the household.” Wilson smiled as he took out his salad, picking a chickpea out of the bowl and popped it into his mouth. “Do you need the microwave? Feel free.”
“Thank you.” Anya had made a big batch of пельме́ни, or meat dumplings, on the weekend, and she heated up the first of them now. “I am not very good, but I can make enough things to remain fed. I have thought of trying to cook for Julian some nights; perhaps a home cooked meal would assist in better sleep?”
“That’s possible. Maybe some valerian root or melatonin too.” Wilson was a believer in trying herbal remedies. If they worked, great. If not, boo, moving on. “Does he talk to you about them?”
“The dreams? Yes.” Anya nodded. “Though I think he keeps some back so as not to frighten me.” She shrugged. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I speak about this, just you are smart.” She smiled a little. “And my dreams are nowhere near so awful. Are your Percy’s dreams very bad?”
“Not yet. I like them, though. They remind me of the books I liked best as a kid.” Wilson nibbled his salad contentedly. “Mine aren’t bad either. They just remind me of this friend I had back in Jersey. Real douchebag.”
“The last dream I remember was trying to flee Russia with my family and then I fell off the train.” Anya shook her head. “Then I was in an orphanage in Piter, Saint Petersburg. But being an orphan with amnesia is not as bad as being some kind of snow demon.” She took her food out of the microwave and sat down to eat. “He is so gentle in real life that the awfulness pains him.”
That made Wilson blink. Snow demons? “I’m a doctor. Who’s an oncologist. With three ex-wives. Stop me if you’ve heard this one. I feel like I’m getting off too easy.”
“Really?” Anya raised an eyebrow. “You are dreaming of ... here, but not here?”
Wilson nodded. “Only difference is that my asshole best friend is way more of an asshole.”
She couldn’t help it; she laughed. “That was the first curse word I learn in English, you know.” Anya shook her head, smiling into her dish. “But what odd dreams those must be. Have you seen anything that has not yet happened to you?”
“It’s pretty multiuse.” Wilson thought about her question, leaning back. “Just working at a different hospital, with different people. Alongside House. That dick.”
“This word I know, too.” Anya grinned. “But I don’t know, I just wondered, since most people’s dreams are so different. Pelmeni?” She offered Wilson a dumpling.
“Sure. Want a roasted chickpea?” He offered her one on his own fork.
“Thank you.” She took it, tasting it and blinking. “I did not expect the crunch!” Anya chewed for a little while, eventually asking once Wilson was done, “Did you cook for your gentleman friend when you were still sort of dating?”
“Oh, every time he was over.” Wilson laughed. “I think that’s how I managed to get him to move in with me.” He smiled at her. “Are you trying to get him to be more serious?”
“A bit.” Anya nodded. They spent nights together, but she wanted to be closer. They didn’t talk about serious things aside from his dreams. She also wanted to take him to bed, but she wasn’t about to tell that to her boss. “We have gone to sleep in my bed, watched movies together, talked of his dreams, but there are ... other things.” Damn it, she hoped Wilson didn’t grasp what she wasn’t saying.
“You haven’t had sex yet?” Wilson offered helpfully.
Anya blushed. “My English is I guess not good enough to talk around that. How are the pelmeni?” It was her mother’s recipe.
“It’s fantastic.” Wilson sighed happily. “And you can talk about it if you want, you know. I’m not really your boss.” He grinned.
“I still think it is maybe improper. But I’m glad you like Mama’s dumplings.” Anya chuckled, but went on anyway. “I don’t want to be a tramp, but ... I don’t know, it is a relationship.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m 43, and I don’t think it’d make you a tramp.” Wilson smiled and patted her hand.
“Did you wait very long?” Anya teased, then blushed. “I am sorry, that was rude. No need to reply.”
Wilson laughed at that. “Second date?”
She laughed harder. This was weird, but why not use it, if she wasn’t going to get in trouble. “Perhaps I ought to have taken the ram by his horns. Bull? I forget the expression.”
“Bull.” He chuckled, looking down. “Rams have them too, but I think they get herded less often.”
Anya sat back, shrugging. “Any suggestion on how to not make a fool of myself, either with Julian or with his sister?” That at least wasn’t an inappropriate topic.
“With his sister, just be yourself. You don’t have to worry about her opinion. And with him, if he’s as stupid about you as you are about him, just take your top off. Men are pretty easy creatures.”
Anya blushed, smiling and looking down. “I will take that and be grateful. Instead of calling HR.”
“Thanks. The guy in HR is a huge creep. I hate talking to him.” He gave Anya an impish grin before returning to his salad.