Chapter Text
I sighed as I sat back from my chair, closed my eyes and massaged the bridge of my nose. I've been at it all day in between seeing patients and doing paperwork that I was glad I'd be able to close up soon for the day. It's not that this job was very demanding or stressful, I'd say it was probably only slightly easier than being a doctor. Sure it can be monotonous but it pays well, it's stable enough and a respectable line of work.
That's not what really matters to me though, does it? No matter how much I try not to think about it, at the back of my mind is that lingering image of the hole the previous owner of the house I moved into a year ago dug up. But instead of his body lying dead there, it was me. Left to rot in a house in the sticks for who knows how long. I don't know how many times I've fantasized about that ever since I've moved into the place nor how much longer I can go on with postponing this desire of mine. “Let's just wait and see”, I think… but for what? What exactly am I waiting for?
I'm certainly not getting any younger and now I have nothing but time. I've reached all the milestones that a proper well-to-do adult is normally supposed to accomplish and yet I don't feel any different. I just don't. Maybe I was hoping it would be, that I'd at least feel something. A change perhaps. That this desire of mine would diminish somewhat. But nothing has changed.
Maybe I should really just do it this time.
Before I could entertain the thought any further, I heard the bell ring from the receptionist's desk in the other room. I glanced up at the clock on the wall and saw that it was 4:30 pm. It was rather close to the time that I'd start wrapping up with my work and close the clinic for the day.
I walked out of the examination room and standing by the receptionist's desk was a rather short person. They were androgynous in looks, their coloured hair mid length with a long strand of bangs resting on their face and sporting a striped shirt and purple jacket. In their hand was the orange flyer I recognized as the advertisement for a clinical trial my clinic was partaking in.
“Hello," I said as I approached them. They were a couple of heads shorter than me, reaching about up to my chest. Barely.
“Hi, I'm Angel," they nodded their head slightly.
Angel? What an oddly cute name, I thought.
“You're here for the clinical trial?” I gestured towards the flyer they were holding.
As they nodded, I asked if I could see the flyer to look at the information on the back side. Angel looked confused but handed me the paper and I almost wouldn't have recognized the flyer if it weren’t for the printed words on it. Littered around the various spots of the paper were small sketched doodles, enough to cover every single inch of free space it once had. Some were of insects, others were small miscellaneous symbols but most of them consisted of small bunnies of various shapes and sizes with varying degrees of realism and artistic style. It was all rather… cute I must say. I had almost forgotten what I was originally supposed to look for and forced myself to stop observing the drawings, turning the flyer over at the back side. The medical intake form was left completely blank.
As Angel watched me stare at the blank spots of information they were supposed to fill up, their expression shifted into a frown. “... There was a back side?”
They looked a bit sheepish as they admitted that they had been too focused on drawing on the front to notice the back. I wasn't annoyed in the least, it would make sense given that they might be diagnosed with ADHD. Admittedly, I thought the drawings looked quite nice but I kept that to myself.
“That's alright. Why don't you take the time to fill that out then?” I handed them back their flyer. “If you could give me your insurance card as well.”
Angel rummaged around their pockets for a bit worriedly before taking out their insurance card with a small relieved sigh. Immediately, I noticed the edges of the card were ripped, so much so that it had cut off parts of their name and other relevant information.
“Sorry,” Angel said, sheepish once again.
“That's alright. Is your last name Martinez with a Z? The end is cut off.” Their first name was listed as Angel on the card. A bit fitting for someone of their stature and ditzy attitude at least.
So it really was their given name.
“Mhm, with a Z.”
I nodded and gave them some time to fill out the form, gesturing for them to take a seat by the nearby waiting area to do so. I went to go sort some files by the filing cabinets, putting them away methodically as I ruminated on the small doodles Angel made on the flyer. A shame that I didn't have the time to look at all of them properly but once they hand me back the form, I'd be able to look at it all I wanted. It was quite good after all, that's all it was.
The only sound that could be heard in the clinic was the soft hum of the aquarium tank and the drawer of the filing cabinets as I opened and closed them. Eventually, I approached Angel again to check up on their progress. They were just finishing up writing the last of it by the time I came over.
They're left-handed then, I noted as I took their flyer, adding it to my clipboard for me to review.
“Your name, one more time.”
“Angel Martinez.”
I repeated the name in my head for good measure. Angel.
“Date of birth?”
“February 9th, 1987.”
That was only a few months away from now. They were also younger than me by a couple of years.
“Is the address you provided here correct?”
A pause. “Yeah.”
That was… a street I vaguely recognized. I think I remember passing the road a few times when I drove around the city.
“And the emergency contact? ‘Aiden’?”
Angel nodded.
“What's your relation?”
Father? Brother? …Significant other?
“Roommate." They looked away.
I’m not exactly sure why but that made me feel a bit better. I then continued to go through the list of questions that were for standard procedure, if they took any medications, drank alcohol or smoked substances.
When they answered a rather prolonged “no" for the latter, I wrote down in my notes that the patient stated no but seemed hesitant or unsure so there's a possibility that they may or may not have taken something before.
“Height?”
“5’1.”
They really were rather short.
“What's your weight?”
“Oof. I dunno.” Angel shrugged.
I looked over at them and scrutinized their stature. While also being short, they seemed to be rather thin as well but not overly so.
“...113… sound about right?”
“That works.”
I went through the list of questions for them, going over the ADHD part of it, whether they identified with the symptoms or not. Eventually, I asked them how they felt about needles to which Angel looked confused.
“I kind of stopped reading after the $1000 part. I do a lot of these trial things.”
So they were strapped for cash? How often were they participating in these sorts of studies?
I explained to them the process of how the trial was going to go and the purpose for it, reiterating again how they would feel about needles. Angel seemed a bit flippant with their answer before eventually agreeing to do it.
“I've done worse for less money.”
Oh...
“Which is work food service! Working food service is what I was referring to.” Angel quickly added.
For a second, I felt a bit concerned for Angel but only because I was growing more aware of the fact that it seemed like money was a hard thing to come by for them. I wondered how their financial situation was and if they were faring okay, growing more and more curious of what their circumstances could be that led to them coming here. But that was of course something far from appropriate to ask of my patient. And that was who they were after all. Just that...
“Understood. Follow me to the back when you're ready.”
I left a bit quicker than I had meant to, eager to put some space between us just so I could get a read on what I was feeling.
What was this growing sensation I felt? Anticipation? Curiosity?
As I walked back inside the examination room, I flipped over the front page of the flyer on my clipboard to look at Angel's drawings once more. These weren't just mere amateur doodles, it had the markings of an experienced artist. Carefully, I traced the sketches with the tip of my finger, feeling the faint pen etches engraved on the paper. Did they draw regularly traditionally or online? Were bunnies their favourite animal? What kind of life did they live for them to be so nonchalant about partaking in trials that they didn't even know what for?
For the first time in my life, I had nothing but questions. Actual questions that were my own, not just ones listed on a questionnare sheet. I had never felt this curious about something, someone, to be so impatient as to find out more from my own volition. It felt strange, something I was quite unused to in my rather passive way of living for all these years. But I didn't dislike it.
I was strangely nervous as I set up the trolley with the items I needed, a syringe for drawing the blood and another full of the medicine to administer. After that, there wasn't much else I could do but sit and wait for Angel to come into the room. I would have preferred to pace to calm my nerves but that would be unbecoming of me.
What was becoming of me anyway?
Before I could ponder on that any further, Angel walked into the examination room shortly and sat down on the seat beside mine. The close proximity made me feel a strange unfamiliar tug against my chest but I shook my head slightly as I shifted into a more professional attitude once again.
“Please take your jacket off when you sit down.”
As they did so, I tried not to stare too much as they revealed their rather scrawny arms.
“We'll start off by taking your vitals. Hold your arm out for me, please.”
With their arm out, I very carefully put the strap around their upper arm, my fingers brushing against their pale skin very slightly. I almost recoiled at the contact, afraid that I was acting too creepy but Angel didn't seem to notice. I quickly let go and instead trained my attention on the monitor to look at the readings, hoping that would settle my nerves.
“98.2. You run cold.”
“I am cold.” Angel remarked.
“Pulse of 65. It took a minute to register, which means it's somewhat weak.”
“I am somewhat weak.” They nodded.
“82 over 55. Your blood pressure is below average too.”
“I am… below… average… haha…”
That was most certainly not true. I would have found Angel's remarks endearing if not for how concerned I was feeling for them, again. It was evident from the vitals that their complexion was far from ideal, especially given how small their stature was. Their arm had several burn marks and scars and I wasn't entirely sure if some of them were due to accidents or otherwise. And as of right now, it was not really my place to ask. Maybe not yet at least.
I tried not to frown as I took off the strap from their arm and explained that I would take blood panels every week to monitor their vitals.
“Okay, I'm going to touch your arm.” I realized what I had said and quickly added, “No, let me rephrase. Can I touch your arm?”
“Yes." Angel nodded.
It wasn't something I usually fumbled, given that I had done this sort of thing plenty of times with numerous patients. But today, it really seemed like I was all out of sorts.
As I carefully wrapped the tourniquet around their arm, I could firmly feel the touch of their skin properly with the palm of my hand. They were right, they did feel a bit cold to the touch, or maybe it was just that I was too warm. I couldn't tell but I didn't really mind the difference. I just hoped Angel wouldn't notice how clammy my hands were starting to feel.
“Your veins are quite faint.” I remarked.
“I always get glowing reviews from medical people…” Angel sighed softly.
I couldn't help the small slight tug on my lips as I prepared the syringe for their arm but it went away as soon as I held it close to them.
“I'm generally pretty good at this, but I can't promise it won't hurt.” And that's the last thing I want to do to them right now.
“Okay.” Angel nodded. “Wait. Can I still go to work after this? My shift starts in an hour.”
They still have to go to work after this?
“You should be fine.”
“Alright, just checking." They sighed in relief. “Darn. I kinda wish I didn't have to go… haha…”
Again, that small unfamiliar tug at the corner of my chest but I brushed the feeling aside for now.
“Make a fist for me.” As they did so, I fixed my eyes on the faint vein on their arm. “All right. And one, two…”
Eventually, I held their arm steady and injected the needle into it, blood slowly starting to fill the vial. Much more slowly than is normal, at least.
“Your blood is on the slow side. Are you all right?”
“Yeah.”
I wasn't sure if they really were given everything else so far but there wasn't much I could do as of yet since I was only supposed to do what I was tasked to. I made sure to observe Angel attentively, making sure they didn't look too pale or showed signs of lightheadedness before the vial eventually filled up full with blood. I removed the needle and took the syringe full of medication instead, explaining to them that this would be given via the deltoid muscle.
“Roll your sleeve a bit further up for me.”
Angel did as instructed and I was glad I was getting less nervous the more I went through the familiar routine. Still, I was careful to do things more gently than normal with them.
Once the syringe was empty, I took it out of their arm and placed it on the trolley.
“And you're done. How are you?”
“I barely felt that at all. That was pretty smooth.” Angel admitted, smiling slightly.
“Good." I almost let out a breath I wasn't aware I'd been holding. “Let me bandage the injection site as well.”
When Angel opted out of doing so since they weren't bleeding from the injection, I nodded and let them put their jacket back on, explaining to them to monitor how they were feeling in the coming days and take note of any changes in how they felt.
“It's 4:45, Wednesday. Does the same time work for you a week from now?” I said, glancing at the clock by the wall.
“Um… I kind of don't know because my work schedule changes all the time… But let's say yeah.”
I see, so they work irregular hours. Perhaps that includes irregular days too. And it's possibly somewhere food service related…
“Okay. I will see you then.” I nod.
Angel bids me goodbye as they walk out of the examination room and I'm left by myself again. I looked at the vial of their blood on the trolley, taking hold of it on the palm of my hand as I inspected the colour. It was red, almost the same shade of red as the Fire Shrimp I regularly take care of at the waiting room.
Angel is also small like them, too… and rather delicate as well. But this feeling I had wasn't really comparable to one of taking care of a pet, that much I knew. Far from it, I did not feel this strange nervousness when caring for the Fire Shrimp. Perhaps because it was not a human being so I did not have to worry about it in the same sense I would for a real person. At least, in terms of socially.
But Angel… I knew they were different. I think I was worried for them. Genuinely. Never before had I felt this growing sense of urgency within me, of wanting to do something for another person, wanting to find out more about them. To talk to them more. I had to wonder if I had gone mad or something of the sort to cause such an odd shift in attitude in the span of just one brief meeting.
Perhaps this was just a passing phase of some sort, especially given how dark and desperate my thoughts were heading just earlier. Maybe I won't resort to something so drastic yet and just wait and see how this goes for now.
I'll find out what I can about Angel for the meantime until I see them again next week. If I don't feel anything of the sort again when next I see them, then it will have all been nothing but a temporary loss of composure on my part. Nothing changes and once I see through their clinical trial to its completion, then I will also go through with what I had originally planned. But if, perhaps, I do feel out of sorts again, then… I suppose I will just have to see where it takes me.