"Er, I've been having this pain in my arm," the man started as he rubbed his left arm again and again. Eric raised his eyes, almost interested.
"What kind of pain?"
"Well, I'm not sure how to explain," he kept rubbing it, and Eric glanced at the clock. It's only been an hour out of the three he promised he would do (it was his deal with Bradley after she caught him arriving unusually late three weeks in a row), and that was his first patient. He hoped he'd be able to avoid any patients and just hide in the exam room.
"Hurriedly before I walk out," he suggested.
"Well, it's kind of a dull pain, loss of sensation too, depends on how late into the day it is," the patient explained, and Eric raised his eyebrow.
"It's worse in the morning?"
"Yes, whenever I wake up I can barely move it," he rolled his shoulder, shaking his wrist a moment later.
"Wait," he dropped his head. "Any chance you sleep on your arm?"
"Yeah."
Eric looked at him in silence, waiting.
"So do you have any idea how to help me?"
Eric opened his mouth, before shutting it again. "Maybe," he started again. "A wild idea, I don't know how you'd deal with it, but maybe stop sleeping on your arm."
The patient looked at him in shock, "that's how I sleep."
"Oh. Okay then, maybe we could do a surgery," Eric offered, making the man stop playing with his arm.
"To clean up an artery or something?"
"The problem is your arm, not a blood vessel. Don't worry, you barely feel the pain of an amputation if its done right. We have the best surgeons around," Eric assured him, playing with a latex glove.
"You want to cut off my arm?"
"Well, it's your sleep. We have to solve it somehow."
He gaped at him.
"Just take aspirin or something."
::
"Six fifty-nine," Eric dropped a file on the desk, "Doctor Matthews leaves clinic after a long, long day."
"You've seen one patient in three hours," the nurse looked at him incredulously.
"Well, it was a hard case. Almost called up someone to help me, you know?" Eric checked his watch, before raising his eyes as he saw someone reaching up to pick the file he just dropped.
"There's nothing written here," a velvet-like voice stated, and he rolled his eyes.
"Well, I can't do everything," he shrugged. "He had arm pains because of the way he sleeps."
"And that took three hours?" the doctor- that Eric has never seen before- wondered.
"He left almost two hours ago, Doctor Cullen," the nurse informed nicely.
"So what were you doing for two hours alone?" he raised a perfect blond eyebrow, golden eyes calculating as the man in front of him was getting antsy.
"Snorting cocaine out of a whore's belly, want to see pictures?" he glared at the supposedly better doctor. "If you'd excuse me, I have better things to do than to keep this chat up going--"
"Matthews!" a voice suddenly called out, and he turned to see Bradley rushing towards him.
"See? Here she is," Eric pointed at her with his thumb, and the nurse rolled her eyes at the implied insult towards the Dean.
"Lucky you're still here, I've got a case for you."
"I don't do cases after five p.m." He informed.
"She presents with a fever, irritability, and is sleeping 18 hours a day." the woman informed.
"Clinical depression, if you insist the fever's from a cold. Or the Flu. Or anything, really."
"Depression's been ruled out by her second doctor," Bradley informed, making Eric narrow his eyes in thought. "She's been to six doctors who have no idea what's wrong. You haven't had a case for a month."
"I also don't have a team for over two months, I can't do differentials on my own."
"You have me," Bradley informed, handing him the file. "And Doctor Cullen, right?" the man nodded without a second thought, annoying Eric.
"Great, I've got Doctor Great Ass and Doctor White Chalk to help me."He took the file, opening it and reading through. "Tumor?" he asked immediately.
"We'll do an MRI."
"Redo all the blood test, urine test, do it yourself. Search for lesions or masses in the MRO, and call me if there isn't."
"If there isn't?" Dr. Cullen wondered. "Shouldn't we call you if there is?"
"No." he looked at him like an idiot. "If it's a tumor I'm sure you know what to do. Excuse me, I have a rat waiting for me."
"He's... something," Dr. Cullen told the women.
"Yeah, good luck working with them," the nurse laughed as she stood up.
Eric walked out of the automatic door, walking to his blue beaten Audi, and once inside was warm enough, he closed the door and rested his head against the seat, eyes shut.
Eric dug his hand into his pocket, grabbing the small bottle. It rattled as he brought it closer to his mouth, and before long he swallowed three pills.
He opened his eyes and looked at the orange bottle. TAKE 1-2 TABLETS BY MOUTH EVERY 4-6 HOURS AS NEEDED FOR PAIN was written in bold letters, and he sighed at the seven pills left in the bottle.
NO REFILLS.
"Running out of Vicodin," he mumbled as he returned the bottle to his pocket, changing gears. "So gotta run out of his shit-hole."
YOU ARE READING
Narcotic ► Twilight
Fanfiction"you don't like yourself. you never did. but you admire yourself. and you cling to that, it's all you've got- and you're afraid that if it would change, if you would change, you'll lose what makes you special. well, I've got news for you, Eric. bein...
