Late Night Shift (Quinn)

"Listen.........". He could hear the fire in his voice starting to lick underneath the door Frame that was his patience.  "It's.....not....woorking..". He said slowly, and placing emphasis on the last word.  He had seen these so called "healers" multiple times over the past several months, and yet he still had an excess of pain on his side.  His use of the cane was slowly starting to go away, though he worried it was because of his own resolve more than the actual healing process.

The check in witch looked up at him, her eyes endless pools of protocol and incompetence.  "Sir please check in and we will triage you in the order and severity of your injury...". She said for the eleventh time.  As for Quinn he could feel his fingers drumming on the table.  Snatching the paper causing its corner to tear slightly he sat himself a little harder than necessary in the chair, though the only one he showed was himself as a lightning strike of pain moved across his side and up into his shoulder.

Filling the form out he quickly returned to the desk and handed it in.  Sighing and realizing he had met his match in the dulsate tones of a reception witch he resigned himself to the triage waiting area.  His only hope was that he could sneak in.  It wasn't to full considering the time, so maybe it wouldn't be as bad as he anticipated.

Taking out the potion he twirled the small violet bottle between his fingers.  It was supposed to ease the magical malady that had befallen him, yet he didn't feel the slightest of relief.  This was the third potion in as many weeks, and it was nearing the end of his patience with being the guinea pig to self proclaimed experts.  

He hadn't slept properly in weeks, he figured he'd be better off not sleeping here hoping for relief than tossing and turning in his apartment.

After sitting for under five minutes a witch came out and called his name.  Perhaps his luck was actually turning around.  Flipping the bottle in between his fingers it quickly disappeared into his pockets.

His right hand pressed against the cab helping raise him from his seat.  As always distinctly aware he was far to young for a cane, and much to self conscious to not let that fact show how much it bothered him.  

Hobbling his way through the room he followed the robbed healer.  As he began to follow her out of the room he would say, "Well that was a record.....you aren't junior or anything right?"  He would say with a smile his mod west American accent clearly audible.  He would follow her into an examination room, and have a seat.  He hoped she had read his chart, though he was also fully prepared to go through his history.  It was like a speech he had long ago memorized, besides at this hour he knew he'd seen none of these healers.  He was also starting to wonder if he needed to go back to America to find a proper cure.

His hair had been trimmed to an acceptable and formal length.  Freshly shaved, and his clothes were a bit more formal than what one am required.  Black slacks, a deep purple button up, with a tie.  It was habit, but one had to look their best when going out.  Besides, he started his new position very soon.  He had interviewed well, and got the job even if it was the end of term.  At least he'd have time to set up a classroom and plan lessons..........maybe even do some of it here depending on how long all this took.

"I'm sure you are..". He would say in response to her comment about giving him what he needs.  Following her back and having a seat at her command was the easy part.  While there was a grimace as he lowered himself down, all in all things could be going worse.  

His first impression of her was that she looked young, though that was nearly everyone's first impression of him, so he let it slide without comment. His earlier one had been more of a joke after all.  

As she asked him about his pain, he smiled so as to be at odds with his current predicament.  Before he spoke he removed two potion bottles from his pockets setting them on the table beside him.  "Well.  On a scale of one to ten.....I'd have to place it somewhere between stepping on a Lego and humping a Hungarian horntail."  He would say with a small laugh which turned into a lot of side holding.  Karma, she was a bitch.

Originally it had only been the former for pain scale.  However he was tired of getting blank stairs from the purebloods about what a Lego was.  So he had added the latter.  If that was one thing he didn't know it was the families of Britain.  Often time being lost on names and honestly not trying that hard ether.

"I've had this pain, I've tried to do what they told me, I've done it all, yet here I am.  All I would like is for one person to know what they are doing, I don't think that's to much at ask..". He would say a little shortly.  Not meaning to be rude, but this was getting ridiculous.

"Indeed..". He would say watching her facial cues as she examined the contents of the little bottles.  He had made the last three years a living by judging and watching people.  Picking up on tells and reacting before they did.  It was with this knowledge he felt that someone somewhere had made an error, given by her own reaction no matter if she tried to hide it.

When she asked him to remove his outer layers, he just smiled and rolled his eyes.  He'd been poked and prodded so many times prior that this was routine and on occasion he had considered coming in half naked just to speed it all up.  "Not a problem..". He would say in an exasperated tone.  

Prior to standing he undid his tie with a couple of quick motions, setting down on the table. Pressing and sighing slightly he stood up.  His fingers moved button to button.  Before stripping away the purple shirt setting t behind him.  That had been the easy part.  Not without difficulty he removed the white undershirt, clearly causing a significant amount of pain.

The last couple of days had only gotten worse, and now in the middle of the night nearing morning, he could feel it coming to a head.  From the fifth intercostal space to somewhere below his waist line was a brilliant splotching of yellows, purples, and even streaks of fire red.  They burned like fire anyway.  Some streaks made it nearly to his sternum, with others reaching a quarter of the way around his back.  His entire side discolored, and clearly painful. One vial had been pain medication, the other to place on the wound to help it recover, and neither useful.  

"There ya go doc, got a diagnosis?"  He would say with a smile as he continued to stand, all be it leaning on the cane.  Again, his muggle phrasing might catch her, but turns of phrase were one of the hardest to erase from a vocabulary.  He knew what the healers before had Said, but the tell from the vial told him he could potentially learn more from her facial expressions, than by giving it all away.

He watched her turn to examine the vials again as he undressed.  Several thoughts ran through his mind about this, yet he let them all subside.  He watched her closely when she did turn to examine the markings.  They all burned a little more in the light, which was an interesting phenomenon that he simply didn't understand.  Though, he normally gave magical injuries, taking them was a little outside of his comfort zone.

"Pretty good aye?"  He would say as he turned to lay down.  He had been complimented before about how it looked.  "Caught a spell mid apparition, which caused my own to rebound.......but you should see the other guy."  He would say laughing, only to grip his side regretting it instantly.  "A damn hedgehog for three days.  The brits know how to start a tour."  He wild finish, his arms moving up to rest above his head.  One covered his eyes, while the other gripped the edge of the examination mat.

He was muscled and in shape, however perhaps about a month out of what he would prefer, having been forced to take t easy.  His normal drive and focus left to be unsatisfied, not to mention he couldn't even real in a piece of bait form the lakes.

"It hurts". He would say with a smile before she even touched him, though it was simply to set his own apprehension to the side.   "Go ahead doc, in tougher than I look."

Assuming she would begin to palmate his skin, her first touch would make him wince, though more from her hands being cold from the recent washing.  As she would move up and down he would proved cues with what hurt more or less.  Above his liver was a significant amount of pain, but nothing compared to the pain at his hip, which was the worst.  The intercostal muscles were sore, and determined to not heal, though he felt that would subside if the main problem could be taken care of.

As she touched the places she touched would turn blue for a second before retreating back to their original color.  As she palpated he could feel the top of his thigh start to burn as well, the bottom most part of his injury.  "Well.....what do you think so far?"  He would ask either in the middle or the end of her physical examination depending on the questions she asked.