Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
It Was A Rescue Day - 2. Complications
“As you can see, Dr. Atoll, the mutagen is attaching itself inside the cells as an additional organelle. So when the cell reproduces, it is reproduced right along with everything else and the body does not attack it because it thinks it belongs.”
“So it’s a retrovirus?” Bobby asked as he viewed the slides of the cells splitting and the new organelle being reproduced along with the expected ones.
“Well, we aren’t sure. If there is a genetic mutation, we can’t find it. New cells and old cells have the same genetic code as far as we can tell; the only difference is this organelle. If we extract the organelle, the cell dies.”
“Which means you can’t remove them without killing him.”
“Some of the specialists want to try a more targeted approach to remove the organelles, but so far the test samples haven’t been promising.”
“How many systems are affected?”
“All of them. When he first showed symptoms it was in his blood, of course that carried the mutagen to all his organs. He wasn’t very stable for a while, but he seems to be getting better now. See, look at his vitals.”
Bobby looked at the chart and did see a steady trend of more and more normal values for everything. Whatever Amberly’s brother had it was integrating into his system and settling in without harming him physically past the settling in stage it appeared. “Is it possible that the disease is benign?”
“Benign? I’m afraid I don’t understand. It’s in every organ system, apparently every cell. He can’t have children without passing it along.”
Bobby shrugged. “Alright, other than requiring a vasectomy so he does not reproduce, is there any way for any other person to get this mutagen from him?”
The doctor shook his head, “We do not think so. We have not thoroughly tested his blood though; it might be possible for him to give to another via transfusion.”
“So, no sperm and no blood donations -- how about spit?”
“No, we tested that. It does not transfer in his spit.”
“This also rules out other mucus’; that is a good thing.”
“Have you found the information you came for?”
“Just about. Is there any way I could visit the patient? I would like to hear firsthand how he contracted this particular disease.”
“Of course, he’s in room two – oh – two, right down this hall, then left at the end. Be careful, though, he’s a cranky bastard. He’s just as likely to throw something at you as to invite you in. Oh, and you might want to get your information from him soon. He’s being scheduled for a brain biopsy sometime soon. It’s not checked off the list though, so I don’t think they’ve done it yet.”
“Have you discussed that with him? He’s given his consent?” Bobby cringed at the thought of one of the Hanovers having something so invasive done if it wasn’t totally necessary.
“Of course not. He probably won’t even be awake for it.” The doctor shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter how it turns out for him now does it? He’s not leaving that room with that virus in his system and if we can’t figure out how to make an antivirus what good is he to anyone?”
“Thank you,” Bobby said curtly, excusing himself before he killed the man on the spot, “I think I can find it.” Bobby frowned as he walked down the hall peeking in windows as he went. This place made his skin crawl. The fact that Puck was awake enough to fight back in little ways sounded just like someone related to Amberly -- especially if they were being held against their will. He hoped he wasn’t too late to save him, intact.
Many rooms had patients on this floor, quite a few of them were not isolated, but most of them had body fluid biohazard signs on their door. Room 202 was no exception. There were some other warnings on the door too, including one about the patient not having communications privileges. Well he would just have to see about that. Bobby knocked politely then pushed the door open without really waiting for an invitation. It was the way of things in the center, like most hospitals.
“Mr. Hanover?”
There was no answer. There was a lump of a man lying in the bed though. His head was wrapped in gauze to the point he was pretty much unrecognizable as human, or even male for that matter, but there were other indications for those conclusions.
Bobby moved into the room and picked up the chart flipping through it. There were no notes of any brain biopsy, or any other head trauma that would explain the level of wrapping he was seeing. But that didn’t mean much; this was the Center after all.
Also, according to the notes, Puck had lost quite a bit of weight at the onset of his infection. But it seemed he was putting it back on now which also indicated his body was adapting to its new configuration, whatever that might be. Bobby pulled a hand-held scanner out of his briefcase and began scanning in the chart documents. There were civil rights groups out there itching to take on a Center, and the entire system if need be, and this seemed like a perfect case.
Bobby looked at the wounded, sleeping man in the bed and knew he had to get him out of here for his love’s sake. The Hanover’s were a pretty awesome family as far as he was concerned and having Puck here wasn’t going to go over very well with any of them. He wasn’t sure if the sex was consensual or not, but if it was, well, that was Puck’s business. What concerned Bobby more than anything was why Puck hadn’t had his shots. Then none of this would have been necessary.
Bobby put everything back where he found it and eased out the door as he began to make plans. He didn’t have long, but he needed to take a look around and make a few calls. He needed at least an hour.
- 9
- 2
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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