[OTA, TAG AMBER] Aren't doctors supposed to heal?

[tacticalmind]

Rob had turned onto his side as much as he could manage with all the things streaming into him and in the awkward position the bed was. He gripped hold of the edge of the mattress and tried to stifle a moan of pain. He really wanted to just curl up in a ball, his joints were aching so much, but the upright position he was forced to remain in was

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[cutthroatbitch]

Amber had seen to the ELISA antigen test when Rob had been out for the count a little earlier. It was getting late now, and Chase had told her she was going to have to knock off to get some sleep or he would cut her security access pass to the labs. He would, too. She had seen him use tactics like that before. She had one round of obs to to on Rob first, then she had to reluctantly leave for the night, albeit, her pager would be at the ready. She was hoping the soldier had still been asleep because his awareness to the symptoms was lessened then. No suck luck, though. She could see how wet his gown was even from the doorway and she pulled some more gloves on as she entered.

She picked up the cloth from the bowl of water on his nightstand and started to wipe it over his face. They were resorting to even sponging him down to keep his temperature from rising even more. "You should have buzzed for some help, soldier," she told him. "Anything new to report?"

[tacticalmind]

"I have a tube up my dick. What about you?" Rob said through a wet cough, holding her hand with the cloth away from his face long enough for him to retch into the bag again. He drew in a raspy breath once he was done and rested his cheek against the corner of his pillow. "How can you look so perky? I want to slap you for that right now."

[cutthroatbitch]

"I love you too, Superman," Amber returned, knowing he would appreciate the banter to keep him sane. "We'll save the bondage for when you have the strength to hold the whip. We had to put the catheter in. The seizures are too unpredictable. We couldn't risk you getting up for a pee and smacking your head on the bathroom wall when you go down. I hate to break it to you, Specialist, but you're stuck in bed until we know you aren't going to take a turn and hurt yourself."

[tacticalmind]

Rob looked at her blankly. "Fuck. This escape just keeps getting better and better," he said sarcastically as he rubbed his hand across his itchy stomach again. "Are you telling me I can't even get a shower? I feel like crap. Look at me. It's like I went for a swim in the beach and came back to crawl into bed without bothering with a towel. Amber, c'mon. Offer me something to feel at least a bit better here?"

[cutthroatbitch]

Amber was listening and she caught the way he was rubbing at his stomach. It didn't look like it was because of the nausea. When he was feeling sick, he more seemed to clutch at his stomach than scratch his fingers across it. She had also noticed his heart rate. It had quickened since the last time she was in his room, but he didn't look like he was about to lead into a seizure or that he was panicking. He was tachycardic, and it could only be related to his condition. "I don't think Fox would appreciate me feeling you up inappropriately," she said and tugged on the edge of his gown. "I've already seen your assets, but I want to have a look at your stomach. You're scratching. You might be having a reaction to some the drugs we've got you on."

[tacticalmind]

"There should be some clever sexual retorts inserted here, but I feel too sick to think of them. I should probably be embarrassed you've copped an eyeful of my dick, too, but I ain't even got have the energy for that."

Rob watched her watching the monitors. "What? What have you seen?" He moved his hand away so she could get access to his stomach. "Do you guys have any clue of what this is or are you making it up as you go along?"

[cutthroatbitch]

Amber smirked faintly. "You've not got a thing to hide, soldier," she assured him.

"We have some ideas and some theories. To be honest, your symptoms could illustrate a number of different ailments and that's why we have to keep doing all these tests to see if we can pinpoint what it is so we can treat you." She pulled the curtains around his bed and then tucked the sheets down to pull his gown up. "Your heart rate is elevated. I'm not sure right now what that might mean. It has been rising right before you have a seizure, but that's not uncommon. And you have a rash all over your torso." She frowned, really not sure what all this could mean. It looked a little like early stages of cellulitis, and didn't look like a heat rash from the sweating. "You're certainly keeping us on our toes, Rob," she added quietly.

[tacticalmind]

"Well, thank you," Rob said, though it came out shakily as she continued to examine his gut. He wet his lips and tried to tug the wet fabric of the gown away from this chest a little. "A rash sounds bad enough, but my heart? Are you saying something is wrong with my heart?"

[cutthroatbitch]

Amber shook her head. "No, if anything, it's another symptom. Your blood pressure is already low. When that happens, the heart sometimes begins to beat faster to try and counteract that. It could just mean you'are having an adverse reaction to one of the medications, too. Do you feel okay other than what you have normally been feeling? Dizzy, lightheaded, ringing in your ears, or feeling averted to the lights?"

[tacticalmind]

Rob had lifted his gown further up to his chest to look at the rash himself. It was one fucking crappy feeling to know your body was consistently betraying you and you had no control over it. "No more than already was when I got here. The light and ears thing not really." He pushed the gown down and looked away with a frown. "God-fucking-damnit."

[cutthroatbitch]

Amber patted his arm in a small attempt to comfort him in some way. "We're doing all we can," she promised. "We have seven doctors running around trying to find what's wrong with you, and one of the best diagnosticians in the country. I know it doesn't seem like it, but we have all been in here at one point or anything, but your body is trying to fight this and we don't have you conscious very much. I also know it sucks that you can't take a shower when you feel so awful, but I can get a nurse to sponge you down and change your sheets and gown. It will help a little. I also brought you some crackers if you want to try and eat something. It's probably the last thing you want to think about, but it's always better to try and get something in your stomach."

[tacticalmind]

Rob rubbed his eyes and then turned his head stiffly to look at Peter in the other bed, as if just linking that Peter had been his nurse and now obviously wasn't. His brain was too woozy to analyse it further beyond that before he was looking at Amber again. "You're going to land me some middle aged nurse who calls me sweetie and wants to tuck me in, aren't you?" he asked suspiciously. "Male, probably. Not that there is anything wrong with that, but there's gotta be something positive you can throw me here. Some sort of sliver of anything to make this less of a pile of shit than it is?"

[cutthroatbitch]

Amber raised an eyebrow at him with a smirk. "Maybe Fox would oblige?" she suggested.

[tacticalmind]

Rob's face scrunched up. "Do you know how unsexy I feel right now? Tube up my dick and some funky rash all over my body? Gravity ain't going to kick in. It's just going to frustrate me and piss me off even more." He put his hand over his eyes and squeezed his temples. "My head is fucking killing me. Can't you turn this beeping down. It's like a screwdriver stabbing my brain through my ears. I can't handle it. You know what Fox could do? Bring her bendy bullet and put me out of my misery."

[cutthroatbitch]

"You don't mean that," Amber told him and went to collect a vial of medication that might ease some of the pain.

[tacticalmind]

Rob took his hand away and looked at her, the pained frown still set deep in his features as he once against struggled with his breathing. "This life support shit. I don't want a bar of it, alright? If I don't come out of one of these seizure things or whatever and I don't wake up, if you lot can't find the answer in a week, I want you to pull the plug. I want that in writing, too."