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Post by Brianna Grey on Jan 13, 2007 22:35:38 GMT -5
That time of the month came, like it did every month. No, not the womanly time that every girl has, Brianna's monthy visit to the doctor to make sure that everything was checking out right. Or as right as things could be for her. But she hadn't been feeling well the past few days, and she'd called in sick yesterday from school, along with today. It was nothing serious, or so she assumed. It was just a cold. Headache, slight fever, sore throat, and she felt extremely tired. It felt like it was one of those, it'll get better before it gets worse, things.
And so far it had gotten worse and it had been a few days, so that ment it should be getting better any day now. Colds just had to run their coarse. Bree had stayed in bed, except for making tea and soups, and this morning she'd tried a steam-filled bath. She still felt sick, but that was what happened when you caught a bug. And working with kids, they could pick things up from anywhere, right? So she was bound to catch something sooner or later, that was life.
Now she was waiting for some more hot water to boil, so she was laying down on the couch in the living room. A blanket was wrapped around her, and her eyes were closed as she waited for the whistle. It was nearing six O'clock at night, and if she didn't start to feel a little better, she would have to call in again and say that she would be taking the rest of the week off. It was taking up most of her sick days, but it was better than getting the students sick.
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Post by Dr. Wilson on Jan 13, 2007 23:39:05 GMT -5
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
The poetry flooded Wilson's mind as he stood before the door to Bree's apartment, frowning. Her appointment had been today; she'd not come in, which had worried our dear doctor. He had found her address in her file, a convenience of his profession. James would've called her first, of course, but her phone number seemed to be missing from the file; probably at the neglect of some nurse somewhere down the line, but there was always a chance that someone as unpredictable as Brianna Grey didn't really have a phone.
Not that it mattered now that James was standing before apartment 259. He had wanted to see her, after all, and even if there was nothing wrong and she'd just forgotten to come, he would feel better knowing that she was alright. Still, he had the nagging suspicion that she didn't come because there was something wrong. He knocked at the door patiently, tucking his anxiety away in a corner of his mind. There was probably nothing wrong. Perhaps she would want to take him up on that offer for dinner? "Bree?" He'd ask through the door, his tone subdued but still a little worried. Alas, poor Wilson. He cared too much.
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Post by Brianna Grey on Jan 13, 2007 23:51:34 GMT -5
The sudden knocking at the door came as a bit of a shock to the woman on the couch. She definitl wasn't expecting any company. So the only logical answer would be, someone who had the wrong door, possibly UPS, though she hadn't ordered anything, or the manager might need a word with her. She didn't want to get up, really really didn't, but she would have to anyway, for the water. So if she got up now, hopefully t water would boil within the same few minutes and it would all be in one trip.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself up from the couch and started to make her way to the door. Her blanket was left behind ont he couch, and she wasn't even thinking about her appearance. She had to reason to, she wasn't feeling well. She was in her own home, and it wasn't like she was expecting anyone. That gave her every right to walk around with her hair unkept, and in sweatpants and a t-shirt. Her feet were bare, as she made her way slowly across the floor to see who was on the other side of the door.
When she reached it, Brianna unlocked both locks and opened the door a few inches to see who was there. When Bree saw James, she gave him a small smile, opening the door a little more. What was he doing there? They'd never finalized on a date for that dinner, but it would probably have been for the next week.
"You're a little early."
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Post by Dr. Wilson on Jan 14, 2007 0:24:07 GMT -5
"You're a little late," he'd reply amiably despite his anxiety. But his happiness at seeing her instantly dissolved into concern as the light hit her face. She was pale as people tended to be when they were sick; she looked rather tired, her voice was hoarse. His brows furrowed. "I just came to make sure...Are you alright?"
James, as he stood in the hallway, had obviously just left work. He was still in his light blue shirt and a green tie, his sleeves rolled up unceremoniously past his elbows. It had been an...interesting day. He studied her for a moment, ascertaining her response before she said anything. Surely, she suspected this was just a cold; probably a correct assumption, he chided himself. He was being foolish. Worrying too much. Despite her brain, Bree could take care of herself. Why, then, had he come? Hmm.
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Post by Brianna Grey on Jan 14, 2007 0:44:19 GMT -5
Bree would have laughed if her throat wasn't so sore, but she was amused by his response. Of course, she knew that he was right, and her smile faded a little. She felt bad for not calling. She'd made sure to call her work, but had completely forgotten about the hospital, and her appointment with Dr. Wilson. Which was odd, because she'd nearly been looking forward to it. Not so much the check-up, but seeing James, it was been something to mark on the calander. And she'd just let him sit there, waiting without any kind of warning. That was so inconciderate of her.
"I'm sorry, it fell out of my head..."
Brianna would have gone on to explain, but the water on the stove started to boil, and the kettle whistled. Looking away from the back in the hall, her eyes focused on the kitchen a bit behind her. Realizing that she was just standing there when it would have been a lot easier for her to let Wilson come inside, she stepped back giving him plent of room to come inside. When the doorway was clear, she started for the kitchen to stop that annoying skrieking. It was begining to make her head hurt. Not moving the kettle, feeling that it was too heavy just then, she simply turned the fire off and the whistle faded until it was gone.
"I feel bad lately, I havn't gone to work. Cold, or something."
Turning back to look at Wilson, if he'd followed her. She really hadn't ment to upset him, or make him go out of his way. She did kind of like how he'd come al the way here, just to make sure that she was alright, but she'd been wrong. She should have called him, and let him move on to the next patient. Brianna leaned back against the counter, swallowing to sooth her throat a little.
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Post by Dr. Wilson on Jan 14, 2007 1:45:43 GMT -5
James' gaze snapped from Bree's face to the inside of her apartment as a teakettle whistled from somewhere. He'd not heard one of those in...awhile. The man stepped through the door when she opened it wider, taking it to shut as she scooted off toward the kitchen. "No, it's fine. You've probably been busy trying to get better."
He spoke as he followed her, surreptitiously taking in the scheme of the apartment, noting the well-known scent of soup that always reminded him of stuffy noses and rainy days. It was slightly messy, but who cleaned when they were sick? Even the ultra-tidy Jimmy resigned himself to filth when there were colds to be dealt with. "Cold, huh? Did it just hit you or come on sortof slowly?" It was amazing how James could take a diagnostic question and make it sound like conversation. Some doctors spent their entire careers trying and failing to do so, but Wilson seemed to have an unconscious knack for it.
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Post by Brianna Grey on Jan 14, 2007 1:57:46 GMT -5
"Um.. it was... Sudden, I think. I don't know."
It hadn't started out this bad, but it wasn't like she'd gotten one symptom then it had worsened over time, so sudden would be the better answer. It was a little harder than normal to try and get her thoughts together and in order. Turning away form him once more, Bree reached up to open one of the cabinet doors and pull out one of the mugs. That was the easy part.
It was a little harder to lift the kettle, but it wasn't as heavy as she'd feared. Maybe she just felt weak, but she was still alright to do this. Soon, she would have to get more sleep or she would never fight off this cold. When the water was pour, and she got the pot back down, Brianna dropped the tea bag into the mug and breathed in the steam. It usually helped more than it was this time, unfortunately.
"Are you thirsty?"
She might not be the best company just then, but that didn't mean she couldn't still offer him something. After all, he'd come all the way to her house, just to see if she was alright. That was more than any doctor she'd ever come across would have done for her. He was the sweetest, kindest man, and Bree knew she was lucky to have him for her doctor. And her friend. And the least she could do was give him something to drink or eat.
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Post by Dr. Wilson on Jan 14, 2007 14:49:27 GMT -5
She had the flu, then, Wilson noted silently. He thought he'd seen in her file that she'd had a flu shot earlier that year, which meant that it was odd that she was sick now, but not unheard of. There were thousands of varieties of influenza, and the common flu vaccine was only a cocktail of the three most common at the time of the current flu season. Still, James relaxed a little. She'd be fine as soon as the worst of it was over and her fever broke. His dark eyes watched her stuggling to lift the kettle, hands in his pockets. He'd have helped, of course, but she seemed determined to do things on her own.
He shook his head at her offer; "No, I'm fine." James smiled down at his shoes as he leaned against the wall or oven or whatever he was next to. Now that it was embarrassingly obvious that he cared for her a bit more than some of his other patients, he felt a little foolish. He ought to have left her alone if she hadn't felt well. "Sorry for intruding, I just wanted to make sure that everything was alright. I suppose I ought to leave you alone...I'd hate to make you entertain a guest if you're sick." He smiled hesitatingly up at her, not quite wanting to leave her alone and sick, but not wanting to put any pressure on her, either.
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Post by Brianna Grey on Jan 14, 2007 15:12:22 GMT -5
Brianna game her dear Jimmy another kind smile, and shook her head gently. How could he think he would be anything but a welcomed suprise to her? Intrusion was as far from what it was as a person could get. He wouldn't ever be a bother or annoyance, not as long as he didn't change. His presence was always appreciated by her, she just wished that she didn't feel so aweful, and they could really spend some time together and talk. Talking felt like the last thing she should be doing, because of strength, as well as the way it burned her throat.
"James, I'm glad you stopped here. It's simply..."
She would have gone on, but didn't feel up to it. Maybe it was her slightly shallow breathing, or her weakened state in general, but her head felt a little light. Her thoughts were scattered a bit, anyway, and if she tried to continue a conversation, there was a good chance that her words probably wouldn't have come out right. Closing her eyes for a few moments, she tried to regain her composer, which was becoming less and less sturdy the more she was on her feet. She brought a hand to her forehead for a second, and it was warm as ever.
"I need to lay flat."
Being upright was taking too much energy. Bree lower herself to the kitchen floor, as she trying to take in some deep breath and get the oxygen flowing. Hopefull that was the cause of her fuzzy mind, at least in this case. She'd nearly forgotten that Wilson was even standing there, and th part of her that was aware of it, wasn't bothing to try and act any way, for a show of strength. What would be the point in that, he was a doctor. He'd seen worse, and he already knew she was sick. If she stayed down, she could get some strength and get back to the couch, then sleep this whole thing off.
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Post by Dr. Wilson on Jan 14, 2007 18:02:39 GMT -5
The smile vanished in a wave of concern as her speech broke off, her attention seemingly overtaken by a bout of sickness. He'd take a step forward, hands emerging from his pockets to steady her arms as she sank to the floor. The ever thoughtful James would lift her teacup from her hands and set it on the countertop so that she didn't spill any of the hot liquid on herself. Even after so many years of treating the sick, the dying, her weakness from a simple flu virus played his heartstrings like an orchestra.
If she needed to lie down, then the kitchen floor was a terribly uncomfortable place to do it. He'd bend down on one knee beside her, saying quietly, "Here, I'll take you to the couch." And, unless she protested, James would, in a quiet show of strength that the doctor didn't at first glance seem to possess, slide one arm under Bree's shoulders and the other beneath her knees and pick the woman up. She was quite light, he noted with surprise. But then, she was sick, and probably hadn't eaten much besides soup lately. In any case, he'd rise and walk slowly over to the couch, careful as a surgeon, and lay her down gently. Perhaps it was a good thing he'd come after all.
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Post by Brianna Grey on Jan 14, 2007 18:17:32 GMT -5
Brianna didn't make any protest against him helping her. She knew, just because she was the kind to admit she was human and flawed, that she wasn't strong. Most likely, she would stay on the floor for a good long while, if he hadn't taken it apon himself to help her. So she was grateful to him for his help, or would be if she was in that state of mind. She wasn't thinking much about anything, excpet the strange way her body felt, which wasn't good. As he lifted her up, she leaned against him, not worrying about falling. She could feel that he was strong, and his hold on her was firm.
He wouldn't have lifted her, unless she was sure he could do it, it wasn't like Wilson to put people at risk. Her eyes stayed closed until she was set back down on the couch where her blanket had been left from her earlier rise. As Bree's head touched on th pillow, she opened her eyes to look up at him. It was really good of him to help her like that, but if she was sick like this, there was a good chance she could be contagious. It was why she'd stayed home from work. And James couldn't get sick, he had patients that needed him.
"You shouldn't get sick from me."
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Post by Dr. Wilson on Jan 14, 2007 19:09:01 GMT -5
Talking to Bree, even in her scattered state, was an inspiring thing to James. It was a view of how the world ought to be, an insight into perfection through fragility. She was like some bright flower surviving, miraculously, in this harsh Jersey winter. Despite her ailments, her concern was for him. He smiled softly and brushed a stray strand of hair out of her eyes, still knelt down so that he was closer to her eye level. "I'll be alright. They've given me about 20 different flu vaccines by now."
It was true. Doctors tended to get shot up with more vaccines than anyone; after all, it just didn't work if they kept catching what their patients had. Wilson had lost count of how many flu shots he'd had last December in preparation for the flu season; hell, he'd even been shot up with the H5N1 vaccine...the avian flu. James thought it was something of a stretch to think that Princeton was going to come down with a rampaging bout of the 'bird flu' but he knew why he, in particular, was getting the vaccine early. Cancer patients, with their weak immune systems, were some of the most susceptible people to disease outbreaks, the poor things, and he was constantly in contact with them.
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Post by Brianna Grey on Jan 14, 2007 19:21:43 GMT -5
Bree smiled at him, glad that she didn't have to worry about him. He couldn't afford to get sick, but it was a little silly fo rthat to be something that she would think of. He was around sick people day in and day out, why should her little illness be any different? He would be fine. She smiled softly as his gentle hand moved over her face to push aside a stray piece of her hair. He had beautiful hands. Just like he had beautiful eyes, and the most wonderful smile. Those were the thoughts that were going through her mind when she reached one hand to hold the one he'd used to fix her hair. That was her final move, as her eyes slipped closed and conciousness left her. It would be hard to tell if she was asleep her passed out, but she would be out for a good while.
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