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Post by Brianna Grey on Jan 7, 2007 19:11:25 GMT -5
Maybe it was true that Bree had just been in the hospital only a week before, and she was a little confused as to why they had told her to go back for a check-in with one of the doctors, but they explained it to her. It seemed that because it was a new hospital, and they had done a number of tests the first time she'd come in, they wanted to talk to her. Aas if she didn't know what they would say already. But fine, they wanted her to come in just to double-check, that was fine. As long as they didn't take any more blood. Briannahadn't been feeling right since the last time, and she figured that they'd taken too much. She needed another month or two before they did that again, like they usually did.
After finishing up her day of work, and cleaning up the classroom, she didn't have time to go home before heading over to the hospital. She'd never been allowed to drive "just in case", though living in New York, she'd never needed to. But it took a little longer to get around town in this city. So she went to the bathroom at her school to wash off the paint on her hands and arms as well as she could before heading out to get to the clinic, where she'd been told she would meet one of the doctors.
When Brianna arrived, she walked through the entrance doors and into the clinic. It was a good thing she'd taken that little tour of the hospital her first time, and that made it very simple for her to find where she needed to go. Bree signed in and when it washer turn, was told to wait in exam room three. Closing the door behind her, Bree set her back down on the chair, and looked out the window. It was a really nice day, even if it was a little warmer than usual. That day Brianna was wearing a flowing, boho kind of skirt, and an off the shoulder top. Her hair was half up, half down and her jacket was tucked safely into her bag.
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Post by Dr. Wilson on Jan 7, 2007 20:04:53 GMT -5
All in all, Wilson had been having a fairly decent day. None of his cancer patients had died, House hadn't gotten anything on his coat, nothing. It was time for a bit of clinic duty, at the moment. His charming smile was given to Brenda at the counter, a friend of his, as he entered the Clinic through the glass doors that'd been emblazened with the name of the place in big red letters. She waved to him, and they exchanged the standard greetings and casual small talk. Hello, nice day, how're the kids, etc. etc. After a few moments of this, Jimmy would saunter over to the rack of files and pluck the next one up, not giving the slightest glance as to whose it was. Brenda, ever helpful as long as House wasn't around to throw a wrench in her well-oiled machine, indicated that the person to whom the file pertained was waiting in exam room three, and so the doctor nodded and proceeded.
Perhaps it would've been better if James had taken a moment to glance at the owner of the file before he entered. Perhaps it would've been better if he'd taken a look at why she was here. Either way, by the time the door was opened and the good doctor entered, it was too late for any of that. Wilson stopped short on the threshold as recognition of the woman dawned on him. His brows rose, but his face remained calm. "Miss Grey."
After the initial shock of a familiar face subsided, he entered further and shut the door behind him. The man proceeded to take a seat in the stool, opening up her file for the first time and glancing over it distractedly...then shutting it again. He'd rather hear from her what was wrong instead of reading it on the impersonal little form. "What brings you here today?"
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Post by Brianna Grey on Jan 7, 2007 20:23:46 GMT -5
Brianna heard her name, but before she even tuned around, sheknew who it was. For one thing, she recognized the kind voice that accompanied the greeting. Also, it went along with the "miss grey" title he'd given her before. Most of the doctors she'd seen called her by her first name, but she had been going to the same doctor for a while now, until she moved. New face, more formal names or something. She smiled, enjoying the irony and turned around to face him.
"You can call me Bree."
If they were going to be friends, which she'd hoped on their first interation, he had to call her by her frist name, or her nickname. It was just more relaxed that way.Of course, she would have told whatever doctor that had walked in to call her by her first name. Sometimes, she even told her kids that it was okay to called her Brianna, or something along those lines, she just preffered it.
"I guess I have to apologize again. I remember you didn't want to be on that side of the doctor/patient relationship with me."
It was a very clear memory. She'd said that she wanted to see him again sometime, and he'd said that he didn't want her to be a patient to him. Apperantly the hospital had other plans. But if he really didn't want to see her in these situations, he could just give her file to someone else. It wasn't like there was any real work to be done with her, just something a chimp could do. It was always the same. Bree walked forward, away from the window and took a seat in front of him, where she was supposed to have been.
"I got a call a couple days ago to come in again. To be aquainted with a doctor or something, I suppose. Allow me to sum up what I'm sure you'll say. 'Miss Grey, there had been no change in your condition that we can discern. Do to your lack of family history we are unable to detect any genetic diagnosis at the time being. We can recommend a number of medications-' and sometimes it can even go on from there."
It was a speech that Brianna had heard many times, and had memorized. Some of the words varried a bit, and thre were occasions when a doctor would be bold enough to suggest a diagnosis and treatment, but all in all, that was the gist of it. It was, no doubt, what she'd been called in to hear. They would want to make sure everyone was on the same page incase they desided to explore something or guess a bit. Bree gave James a smile and folded her hands in her lap, not a bit uncomfortable.
"I hope that didn't take the fun out of it."
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Post by Dr. Wilson on Jan 7, 2007 23:12:27 GMT -5
He watched her with that little wry grin of his, looking as boyish as ever despite his age. She was witty, intelligent, comfortable in the hospital; it was refreshing, and James had to admit that he appreciated it. He was, however, intrigued by her knowledge of what other doctors had said about this mysterious 'condition' of hers. "No, I think you actually just cut out all the boring parts."
He flipped open the file again, this time actually looking at its contents. There was the usual history, symptoms, etc. etc...but beneath this there was a thick stack of old papers, MRIs, CAT scans and the like. His brows bunched as he turned the folder to get a better look. As a doctor, he knew what a normal brain ought to look like. Knew the areas, the hemispheres, the specialization of the reticular formation and right where to find it (the limbic system, of course). Thus, when he looked at the scan of Bree's brain he was even more puzzled. Had she moved during the scan? He flipped through some of the others; all were the same, despite differences in the days, even years they'd been taken. James glanced back up at the woman, surprise written all over his face. "That's...something you don't see every day." He flipped to the front of the file, as if to reassure himself that this was indeed the right person, but her name was printed quite clearly at the top of the form.
Again, he'd look back up to her. There was nothing definate in what the numerous doctors had written there; early on someone had diagnosed ADD, another depression, and a more recent one had gone so far as to say Asperger's, a kind of mild autism. "You've been prescribed a number of different medications for various things that I don't see any conclusive evidence for." He was waxing into doctor-speak, albeit unconsciously. "Methylphenidate, Sertraline, Citalopram...Have you been taking all of that?"
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Post by Brianna Grey on Jan 7, 2007 23:23:32 GMT -5
Something you don't see every day. He was right, she saw it every month or so. But that didn't change the fact that nobody could figure out exactly what or why her mind worked the way it did. And she didnt' really find any problems with that. Bree didn't care that her mind was functioning diferently than most other peoples. It didn't really seem to effect her. She didn't think her personality would be much different if it was 'normal', and if she would have been, than she probably liked this way better. Brianna liked the person that she was.
She considered herself to be kind and fun, and why would she want that to be different? She got to experience life in a way that was more fun. If she were to be fixed or whatever, that might take away what made her say things that other people found so odd. Then she'd be boring. Maybe she wouldn't be able to teach art anymore, what would she do with her life? Bree didn't think that whatever she had was harmful, and so she didn't worry abot it. Especially since it didn't look like she would ever be diagnosed with what was really wrong.
"I used to. I stopped a few years ago, because I couldn't function with them. Like a snail and salt."
When she was under the medications influence, she always felt so wieghted down. Kind of heavy, and like it was a real effort to do anything. She didn't feel well, emotionally, like everything was upsetting. Everything bad was a million times worse and it was just not worth going on anymore. She wanted to cry and throw things all the time, and she couldn't work that way. She'd rather be sick than unable to live.
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Post by Dr. Wilson on Jan 7, 2007 23:47:45 GMT -5
Jimmy chortled at this simile. If she was the result of atypical neurobiology, he was beginning to think that he liked it better. Not that he had a crush on her or anything silly like that; no, she was a patient now, there was nothing like that going on. They were just friendly, that was all. She was nice; unique but neither overbearing nor too reserved. Tidy, pretty, but fun and patient. Oddly levelheaded for having such a strange-looking brain. "Just because you're wired differently doesn't mean there's something that needs to be treated, especially if, as you say, the medicine only makes you feel bad."
He flipped the folder shut and turned to drop it on the counter behind him. When he swivelled back around, James turned his dark gaze on Bree. "You've obviously adjusted to anything atypical and seem quite coherent to me. Unless there's anything you've been having problems with? Vision, speech, headaches? Psychological problems?" He watched her curiously, leaning back slightly against the counter behind him.
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Post by Brianna Grey on Jan 7, 2007 23:55:29 GMT -5
"Not really."
Sometimes she got headaches, and everyone thought she was slow or something, but it wasn't anything new. That was her life, and she was perfectly fine with it. She smiled at him, and pushed a few stray hairs out of her face. Yes, that was another bad habit of hers. Besides biting her nails, she didn't spend very much time on her hair, which ment that it was aften falling in front of her face. But there were worse bad habits to have. Some would consider not taking your medication a bad habit. But, once again, something that she was okay with living with. But she shoudl explain why she kept coming in, then.
"This is a condition of my job. Kids have to be protected, and parents have to know that their child is safe and with someone that won't turn into a psycopath. No check-up, no teach. It's a bad situation, so I come in and get poked at once a month."
She was tired of getting poked, though. It was like, before one puncture had fully healed, she was getting another one. And whoever had been the doctor last time hadn't been very aware. Or Bree hadn't given him enough information. Maybe she'd lost wieght. Whatever it was, she was pretty sure he'd taken to much blood. But that was in the past, she was fine now, and it didn't look like she would be getting any new information now, James was as stumped as the rest.
"You don't have to waste you're time on my enigma. You can give it to someone less important."
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Post by Dr. Wilson on Jan 8, 2007 0:24:37 GMT -5
Every now and then, Wilson got interesting cases. Not that cancer patients weren't interesting; he meant more along the lines of House's interesting. Diagnostically strange. Medically puzzling. But mostly they went straight to the hospital's legendary diagnostician; the only time James got them was when he found them and they were somehow cancer-ridden. And, for the most part, this was fine with him. He had specialized in oncology and not diagnosis for a reason, after all. Some people had a knack for things. His knack was caring. Greg's knack was solving. And despite all that, despite the fact that he was certainly no neurologist, he was driven to figure out this case in particular. Bree's words about giving her 'enigma' away made him frown a bit. "Waste my time? I...no. You are not a waste of time, Bree."
His frown faded quickly, however. It never seemed to stick unless something terribly serious was going on. "As for getting poked, there's really no need. I would need to know, though, if anything changes. You feel sick, depressed, anything out of the ordinary. Since your neurobiology is so atypical, we'd have to be twice as careful. The brain," he'd continue, his eyes sliding to the view of the city out the window, "...is a complicated organ." James looked back to her again, a tranquil smile lighting up his Jewish features.
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Post by Brianna Grey on Jan 8, 2007 0:37:04 GMT -5
Now that was very sweet. She hadn't ment that she, as a person, wasn't worth someone's time. She knew that she was a good person to be around, and could be a good friend to anyone. She'd simply ment that her problem, her case as some put it, wasn't worth being on. He was a very good doctor, she could tell. And his time should be spent on someone that had the chance of getting cured, and not on her little thing that was going to stya the same forever, or get worse when it's too late to do anything about it. Yet, on the other hand, she liked spending this time with him. Especially after what he'd just said.
Listening to him talk about the human mind, and how if anything changes, she should come in, it was interesting. By this time she was usually walking out the door. Mabe it was because they'd never worked togetehr before, but maybe it was some other reason, but he seemed to be putting effort into this. Like he cared, more than if it was just some job. It was kind of nice, even if she couldn't come in every time something changed. Things changed all the time, and most of those times, she didn't even notice it. Not unless it was painful. But, geez, was that smile cute.
"You're very handsome when you smile."
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Post by Dr. Wilson on Jan 8, 2007 1:21:50 GMT -5
"I.." Before poor Jimmy could do anything to stop it, blood rushed into his cheeks. He couldn't quite get the smile to leave his face, either. With another girl, he might've been able to just nod and accept the compliment and move on, but one way or another he seemed to have gotten this particular person under his skin. "Thank you." Brown eyes gravitated to his shoes, then jumped back up to look at her, that unconquerable smile still present. He felt like he ought to have said something in return, but he knew it would only sound silly and false, so James kept his silence.
It was back to business now, however, and he reached behind him to grab the file he'd dropped there just moments before. "So, I guess that means you'll be back in a month, huh?" He'd scribble something on the file that pertained to such a statement with a pen plucked from his pocket. Wilson spoke with a rather pleased tone, despite his previous statement that he didn't want to see her as a patient. This was different, he thought as he stood, watching her as he made a valiant effort to lessen the reddish tinge of his cheeks. He hadn't wanted to see her as a sick patient. As someone who was quite alright, however, he had no objections.
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Post by Brianna Grey on Jan 8, 2007 1:31:10 GMT -5
"You're most welcome."
There was that blush. It was probably one of the cutst things she'd ever seen. Like he was a teenager or something, and he was looking at a pretty girl from across the schoolyard, and she'd smiled at him. She almost felt like she should be asking him to prom, but of course, that was long since past. She still could stop that feeling that she wanted to spent more time wth him, and she didn't even try to stop smiling. Bree never tried to do such a foolish thing, why would a person ever try to stop? That was just ridiculous.
Her eyes followed him as he moved, watching carefully to see what he might end up doing. If he went for a needle, that would kill the mood, and it would make her uncomfortable. However, h was doing no such thing, which ment that things were still flwing smoothly. So instead of worrying about what liquids might be taken from her at any point in the day, she was focused on his smile, and the cute way his cheeks were still slightly flushed. He couldn't be for real, but he was. One of those, one of a kind boys that you read about in stories. He was absolutely adorable to Brianna.
"A moon away."
By the time the moon was back in the position that it was in now, her next appointment should be coming up, and she would return to one of these oh-so white rooms. Not things appeared to be wrapping up, so she stood up from her seat. Her skirt and top moved back to the way they should be, no scrunched up like they got when she was in a sitting position, and Bree grabbed her bag. Here was the quesiton. Was James a fill-in, or was he not her official check-up doctor? Would she see him again?
"Should I look for you?"
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Post by Dr. Wilson on Jan 8, 2007 2:11:48 GMT -5
A moon away indeed. He smiled genuinely at that. She had such a way of talking, a gift for expression that he couldn't help but adore. Most of his patients, though he didn't like to admit it, could be as boring as House often commented that they were. Not all of them, and especially not the kids...but most of the middle-aged people that he saw were fairly bland, personality-wise. But Bree...wasn't. He could get used to seeing more people like her.
"You can if you'd like, but from the chart it looks like the hospital has gotten it into it's head that I'm to be your usual doctor." A smirk. Well, perhaps it hadn't yet, but it would. Ah, the benefits of leverage. He'd move to open the door for her as he spoke, a rather gentlemanly gesture that he made without really thinking about it. "But please, don't hesitate to let me know if anything should change."
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Post by Brianna Grey on Jan 8, 2007 10:49:40 GMT -5
Bree was already smiling, but there was a chance that when Wilson said the hospital had made him her usual doctor, that the smile grew a little more. Her luck was getting better and better. There hadn'tever been a doctor that she hated, but she'd never felt something so close to happiness, just to come in to take the usual tests. It was definitly a good change, and she almost couldn't wait to come in next month. She would have to see, but if she still felt this way the next time she came around, she might have to ask him out or something. She felt like a million dollars, just then. It was like she had everything in the world that she could ask for.
"Really? That's fantastic, I'm rich."
Seeing him hold the door open for her, she slipped the strap of her bag over her shoulder and walked to the door. Before slipping out, se paused in front of him and leaned in to give him a soft kiss on the cheek. She was grateful to have such a caring and gentlemanly doctor working with her, and it didn't hurt that she found him to be extremely nice to look at. He was like a beautiful painting, stunning to stare at all day, but also kept you thinking about it, and about the intelligence and meaning behind it.
"Thank you Doctor."
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Post by Dr. Wilson on Jan 8, 2007 20:28:44 GMT -5
And then she...kissed him. James Wilson immediately felt the color rise to his face again. It seemed Bree had a knack for inciting such a reaction in him, something that he'd not done so commonly since his younger days, back in grade school...but he bent his thoughts away from that slippery slope down memory lane, and back to the present. He had to do something about this. Damning the fact that she was a patient, James reached out to lay a hand on her arm. "Wait, ah, Bree. It's nearly twelve, would you...care for some lunch?"
Impulses, he thought a moment later, are the sorts of things that determine whether our lives are interesting. You can go on existing, day to day, boredly, or you can do something wild, take a risk, push the heavy envelope of fate. The object was to live or die trying, not to simply keep your heart beating for as long as possible. For people like House, it was the reason why he was now the proud owner of a motorcycle. For people like Wilson, it was the reason why he was once again setting his ethics aside, this time to ask a pretty girl to lunch. A pretty girl who made ordinary things sound sublime, a pretty girl who was perfectly unperfect.
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Post by Brianna Grey on Jan 8, 2007 20:44:07 GMT -5
Bree had started to walk away from him, they both had things to do, but he caught her arm. She stopped and turned to face him again, wondering what he had forgotten to tell her. Or maybe he'd just thought of something just then. He wasn't going to ask her to come in more often was he? Seeing him was no problem, more appointments for a condition that wasn't going to change was less tempting. His question was, thankfully, the kind that wasn't going to make her want to leave running. It had nothing to do with medicine at all, it was about lunch. And in all honesty, she was feeling hungry.
"That sounds perfect."
And she didn't care where they went. She wasn't about to ask him to spend a lot of money at some restraunt, she barely ever ate at places like that. She'd be fine with a sandwhich or something from the hospitals cafeteria. It wasn't the best food, but it was fine, especially since he was still at work, and would probably have to get back to it in an hour or so. But what was important about this whole thing was that he'd asked her out. Kind of. It ment that he had interest in her in more than just a friendly way, and she could return his feelings.
"Have you finished here?"
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