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“Doc.”
The full bearded male who’s only a decade older than I am doesn’t stop his typing to state, “I wish I had better news for either of you.”
I remove both my hood and mask now that I’m once more secure indoors. “But you don’t.”
He shakes his head slowly, finally pausing his actions to deliver us his full attention. “It doesn’t make any sense. None of this makes sense. I feel like I’m stuck in one of those trying not to be cancelled medical dramas.”
“You hate those,” Clark cheekily inserts.
“I despise those,” he echoes in exasperation.
“Lauren’s quite the fan,” the man beside me warmly announces. “Particularly of House.”
“Yes, in spite of all of her debilitating symptoms, she managed to fully communicate that.” His sneer is attached to an eye roll. “And I can’t believe these words are about to leave my mouth, but I wish that sonofabitch was actually real to call for a consult.”
His statement furrows my brow.
“I've run numerous tests. Just about every test I can think of and have nothing conclusive. She has symptoms. I can see them. You can see them. A blind man could see them, but all of her labs are fine. Maybe an elevated number here or there but not enough that it can’t be written off as the human body just doing what the human body does. Fluctuate. The symptoms appear to come and go in an unpredictable pattern as though an underlying disease or cause is playing hide-and-seek.” The grip on his device grows tighter. “It’s an anomaly, Wes. And you know I fucking hate those.”
That makes two of us.
“Even more so when they’re medical.”
Unsure of what to say leads me to saying nothing.
“Should we take her to Highland North Medical Center?” Clark cautiously suggests. “Perhaps have her see some sort of specialist?”
“Hamilton is a specialist.”
“While I am a doctor of internal medicine-”
“Which is a specialty.”
“-I am not equipped to run more complex diagnostic tests from this facility. I need more equipment-”
“Bill me for whatever you need.”
“-more space-”
“We’ll expand the minute she’s healed enough to move back to the main property.”
“-and other departments, Wes.”
At that my mouth resumes its shut position.
“Do you think it would be in her best interest – at this time – to relocate her?” the man at my side level headedly inquires.
“I’m not sure.”
“Then until you are, she stays here,” I coldly declare. “End of discussion.”
“Discussion implies there’s room for another opinion that isn’t yours,” Hamilton thoughtlessly disputes. “I don’t think that’s what happened here.”
“And I don’t pay you to have philosophical discussions with me.” Firmly folding my arms across my chest is promptly executed. “I pay you for your medical expertise, so provide it, or I will find someone else who can.”
“Weston,” Clark hisses in a chastising nature.
“What is your…medical assessment regarding Lauren right now?”
