knowthyexits | (no subject)

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rory

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She almost didn't do this. There's a part of her that nearly bended to the stubborn need to avoid help, but Cal and Sookie would never let that rest. She's been by the clinic multiple times, now, and has been waiting and watching as she observes the doctors and their way of practicing. She's almost surprised that her decision leans towards a nurse, in the end.

She thinks she can do this. There's no actual medical diagnosing necessary, not anymore. She needs someone who can maintain treatment of the symptoms seeing as there's no cure for the disease. That's all she needs and a nurse can definitely manage.

She waits until he's alone in the clinic and the other doctors are preoccupied with their work. "Rory Williams?" she asks, as if she hasn't spent a week finding out everyone's names, histories, and significant others. "Do you have a minute to talk?"

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Rory's used to clinic shifts where practically nothing happens at all. Sometimes people do come in. After all, there's always something small that needs doing. Check on a scrape, make sure this weird thing isn't a bad thing, just a check-up. That's what he expects when he looks up to see the woman in the doorway. Of course, usually when people come in for a plaster, they don't call him by full name. Could just be a cultural habit.

"More than a minute if you'd like, Miss-- Sorry, I don't know your name," he admits with a slight frown. It's buzzing around in the back of his head somewhere; he'll know it when he hears it. He's seen her in passing enough times, but he's never had a reason to latch onto her name.

"Baum," Sarah says with a pleasant enough smile. Too friendly is suspicious, but not friendly enough means that she can't put together the allies she needs in the event of a threat from more human sources. "Sarah Baum. I was hoping to talk to you about treatment options."

"Er." Rory blinks as he stands up from his seat, feeling like he should know what she's talking about but not knowing at all.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Miss Baum. I'm.. guessing you have a file here," he says, and as he says it, he's edging towards the filing cabinet to pick it out. "But why don't you have a seat and tell me what's on your mind?"

Sarah steps inside and casts a glance over her shoulder to ensure that she's not been followed. It's unlikely, but she doesn't need anyone knowing her issues but her doctors and her closest friends. "My last two doctors have disappeared," she says, getting right to the point. "I've had a couple of bad days and I've realized I can't just ignore treatment, even if it's only treating the pain, at this point."

Rory bites his lower lip and holds back the mild curse he wants to make. He likes the island, despite the tricks and strangeness, but it’s things like this that get to him. Patients need consistency, stability, someone to rely on. She shouldn’t have had to lose one doctor, let alone two.

Finding her file is easy and quick and before she’s even finished with her sentence, Rory’s back at the table he previously occupied, file open in his hands. His stomach twists when he reads the diagnosis.

“You know I’m a nurse, right?” he asks as he looks up at the woman. “I mean, I’ll be glad to help you. It’s what I’m here for. But I’m not a doctor. You should know that.”

Sarah doesn't let her emotions change very much with strangers. She keeps on a calm front and it doesn't flicker, not even when he reads her diagnosis. She's had months to come to grips with it and while she still rages, she's allowed that it is happening. "My first two doctors couldn't do anything but test me for the disease and confirm it's there. Unless I've missed the presence of chemotherapy on the island, what I need is someone to manage my pain symptoms," she admits. "Nurses can do that very capably, can't they?"

Rory only got into the medical profession in the first place because of Amy, because of her blathering on about her lovely raggedy doctor. But Rory did not have the money or the smarts or the opportunity to become a doctor, only a nurse. Many would say there's nothing only about being a nurse, but the difference sticks out in Rory's mind all the time, sharp as a knife.

Around here though, it matters little. She has a point and while back home, Rory would balk and refer to protocol and ask that a doctor instruct him in what to do, here he knows what to do so he might as well do it.

"Alright," he says. "Let's talk about your pain then. How bad is it?"

She smooths her hand down over her dark jeans, eliminating the very smallest of wrinkles as she thinks about what pain would be like for a normal woman -- one who isn't shot, stabbed, and beat around on a regular basis. He's going to have to see her scars, at some point. She's going to have to think of something to explain it all.

"Some days, it's barely there at all. Others, I can't get out of bed. It's never lasted more than forty-eight hours, but the fatigue is usually more present."

Edited 2011-07-03 20:24 (UTC)

"Did your--" He trails off as he flips through the scant pages of medical history and doctor notes. The names of two different doctors do appear, but it doesn't look as if either of them treated her very long. Did they even have a chance to really treat her at all?

"You're not taking anything currently, correct?" he asks. "Did either of your doctors mention Cytoxan as an option?"

Sarah shakes her head. "No," she admits, confused by the mere mention of something. "No, George diagnosed me, but we were waiting to see how my symptoms would progress and then he was gone." And then she had slid into her determined and stubborn ignoring of treatment before Cal had forcibly brought her to the clinic to pick someone. "What is it?"

"Well, it's usually used in combination with other chemotherapy drugs, but it basically stops cell growth," he explains, very briefly. "It has some serious side effects because of that, and we have a limited supply, but.." Rory trails off with a shrug and a look to Sarah. It's up to her, ultimately, but something in Rory's book is better than nothing.

"We also have limited supplies of methotrexate and prednisone. They all come with significant side effects and I'm not sure we have enough for more than a single course of treatment. We have a clinic library. I can get your more information so you can think about it. We're not going to start anything here and now. But it is something to think about."

Sarah nods, suddenly having more prospects open up to her than ever before. It's almost heady to know that though she has a limited number of years left, she also has options to treat it -- possibly beat it. Maybe Cal and Sookie are right. Maybe this won't be the end for her. "I have to think about it," she agrees, her mind buzzing with possibility. "Can I find you here if I have questions?"

"Of course," Rory assures her. He figures it's a lot to take in, especially when she only walked in here looking for some painkillers.

"In the meanwhile," he adds, "I'm thinking maybe we start with a small dose of Percocet? For the bad days. And if you could keep a journal, that would be helpful. Just take note of the good days, the bad days, if anything seems to help and if anything seems to make it worse. That'll help us figure out what's the best way to take care of the pain."

Sarah nods rapidly, considering his words and becoming glad that she had chosen Rory for the task. "Good, yes, that sounds like a...good idea," she said, assured in that much. "Thank you, Rory," she continued. "I knew I made the right choice."

It's small praise that Sarah probably doesn't think much of, but for Rory it means a great deal. It's cancer, not a couple of stitches, and the fact that she'll feel slightly better coming out of this meeting than she did going in makes a big difference to him.

He smiles faintly and shrugs under the comment. "Glad I could help," he says as sets down her file and goes to get her things. "Come on, let's get you sorted."

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