Check-up

[evillurks]

The Shadow has been splitting his time between the Sanctum and the apartment of James Rettigue, but only one of these locations is a place for guests. The coffee table is a solid mass of paperwork, although there are signs of order in the form of stacks. The furniture is sleek and black, modern even for its time. One wall of the living room is dominated by a tall picture window that overlooks the city, but the curtains are half drawn. From the kitchen the scent of fresh coffee drifts, but The Shadow is not used to entertaining. The spartan feel to the place, broken only by his paperwork, does not give a welcoming feel.

Comments

[sarah-branigan.livejournal.com]

She would have assumed the same thing. The rest of him is amazingly healthy, besides.

"Of course." Sarah blinks, surprised, but on second thought she supposes that is needed to be said, considering the situation. "I won't tell a soul. You can trust the clinics as well. I mean, even Doctor Crane went there when he was injured." Or injured himself, usually.

[evillurks.livejournal.com]

While he did not precisely state it as a question, the reassurance is very much appreciated. The Shadow's impassive face reveals little, but he is willing to admit to himself that he is, at the moment, afraid.

"I'm afraid I don't know him. Will this require an appointment?"

[sarah-branigan.livejournal.com]

"Then you are a lucky, lucky man," Sarah replies sincerely. She's not sorry Crane is gone, even if Daniel sometimes talks about how he misses him. Of course, there's the other Dr. Crane that she actively sought out...

"Require? No, but an appointment would mean that you don't have to wait around the clinics longer than you have to."

[evillurks.livejournal.com]

The Shadow arches a brow expressively. If he is truly lucky, he will never know how lucky he is.

"I have ample time at the moment, and for the forseeable near future, but I also never know when something will come up." His schedule is, to his thinking, beyond his control.

[sarah-branigan.livejournal.com]

"One of Batman's enemies," she explains tersely. He can look it up if he wants to know more, but she hopes he doesn't bother.

She smiles a little, then retrieves her PINpoint. "I could send the radiology department a message to expect you in... an hour? Two?"

[evillurks.livejournal.com]

There is, in fact, quite a sudden look of revelation. "Ah. We don't speak much."

He is at once both worried and relieved that she might be able to expedite things so well, but he glances thoughtfully at his paperwork before giving an answer. "An hour should be fine. Assuming nobody decides to start rampant criminal activity by then." His tone may be slightly difficult to interpret, but that was intended as sarcasm.

[sarah-branigan.livejournal.com]

She blinks. "Who, you and Batman?"

She notes the sarcasm. "They'll just have to hold their horses until you're back," she replies with a small grin. She taps quickly into her PINpoint. "Someone from radiology will be waiting for you. Or... did you want me to come with you?" She would go with him, although sitting around here for an hour would be a little awkward.

[evillurks.livejournal.com]

"Yes. Although I appreciate knowing there;s someone else to carry on the work when I'm gone." That she might be surprised they live in the same world, at least in this dimension, does not even occur to him.

Again he hesitates, and is privately embarrassed for it. "Not if you have other business to attend to. I'd appreciate discussing any findings with you, though. I have a fair working knowledge, but I'm not a physician." He just may need someone to interpret the medical terminology, and he trusts her, doctor or not.

[sarah-branigan.livejournal.com]

"He's... there's a Gotham here? In your world?" She certainly looks surprised.

"How about I meet with you afterward at the clinics? That way you can get a little more work done." She checks her watch and sighs. "Besides, I have a winged kitten to feed in about a half-hour."

[evillurks.livejournal.com]

Once again she is treated to an arching eyebrow, and the direct gaze of his intense blue eyes. "Is that so surprising?"

"That's fine. I'll send you a message when they're done dissecting me through radiation."

[sarah-branigan.livejournal.com]

"...well." She blushes a little. "I suppose not. But there isn't a Gotham in many of the Americas I've been to." Well, now she just feels silly. It's just that the Shadow doesn't seem to come from a world where insane people dress up in elaborate costumes and try to kill each other in the street.

"Okay. Let me know if you need anything else before then." She puts her things away in her medical bag.

[evillurks.livejournal.com]

Perhaps The Shadow simply doesn't tolerate that sort of behavior in his own town.

"Thank you Branigan. I appreciate the housecall. I'll contact you later." He appreciates the prodding when he ought to know what's good for him, as well, but has too much pride to admit it aloud.

[sarah-branigan.livejournal.com]

The costumed crazies certainly know better than to leave Gotham's city limits. Sarah often wonders about Batman's no-kill policy.

She smiles and rests her packed bag on her lap. "Thank you for the coffee and the geography lesson. I'll be waiting to hear from you." She knows she was probably the push he needed. With all the good he does, she'll do what he can to help him get healthy again.

Without further ado, she presses a button on her PINpoint and teleports away.

[evillurks.livejournal.com]

It will be quite some time before she is contacted at all, as the testing process proves to be more extensive than expected. The Shadow's patience is quite frayed by the time they are through, or at least by the time he declares them to be through. He is quickly gaining a reputation in the Clinics as a tempermental patient.

In general terms, he is diagnosed with pneumoconiosis, but what causes them some confusion is a finding of rheumatoid nodules in his lungs. His blood test proves negative for rheumatoid arthritis, and the conflict of results sends them into a flurry of other tests. By the time he has put his foot down on being run through any further machines for the day, they are still unresolved on the matter. He has been asked as few questions as possible, due to his unnapproachable manner, and is let go with pills for inflammation.

His message is brief.
Done for the day. They won't speak to me. Contact and meet at your liesure.

[sarah-branigan.livejournal.com]

I'll pick up your results and can be over shortly. Unless you wanted to meet somewhere else?

While she waits for an answer, she heads to the Clinics and picks up his test results. The radiologist explains the findings, includuing the strange nodules, and then goes on a lengthy diatribe about what a difficult patient the Shadow was, why couldn't he stay for a few more tests, blah blah blah. Sarah listens patiently, thinking to herself that the clinics have had far more difficult patients. Nobody got fear gassed or mentally wiped -- consider it a good day, Doctor Complains-A-Lot!

[evillurks.livejournal.com]

To be fair, Sarah has never been the focus of one of his truly intense glowers, as these doctors have. She should be honoured.

Rettigue apt. fine.

While she is listening to the doctor, he is hard at work catching up with his network. By the time she arrives he should be well into his second cup of coffee, and the curtains have been drawn now that dusk has fallen. The only light in the apartment is from a slim lamp aimed at the coffee table where he works.

[sarah-branigan.livejournal.com]

Sarah PINpoints back to the apartment, a manilla folder in her hand. "Who's Rettigue?" she asks, curious. "I have your results here. Do you want the good news, the bad news, or the weird news first?"

[evillurks.livejournal.com]

"I keep this apartment under the alias of James Rettigue, but I have other apartments under other aliases." He considers this alias and apartment his primary refuge, but he doesn't like to admit it. There is no offer of coffee this time, and he settles back in his seat and folds his arms. His posture radiates quiet aggravation, but it is not intended for her. If his manners were better he would offer her a seat in one of the leather armchairs, but in his current mood he expects her to find her way there herself.

"There's weird news? It might be best to get that out of the way first..." It also conveniently removes the awful choice between good or bad.

[sarah-branigan.livejournal.com]

She finds a place to sit easily enough and sets the folder on her lap. Having gone over the results inside already, she doesn't need to refer to it. "You have scarring and inflammation in your lungs from rheumatoid nodules," she explains. "But you don't have rheumatoid arthritis. That's not usually possible, and it had the clinics in a state of confusion."

Her mouth quirks a bit upwards. She's had time to puzzle over this. "But I don't think it's that strange, considering your association with Mr. Green."

[evillurks.livejournal.com]

She is rewarded with an expression of mild surprise, and an uncrossing of the arms. The Shadow holds both hands out flat, palm down, in his lap. Large and long-fingered, they are slightly gnarled and heavily veined. It is not simply a loss of flesh that makes his knuckles look enlarged, but the subtle distortion from arthritis. Although the girasol ring spins easily on his finger, removing it over the knuckle would require some work.

"I was aware what he did cut off the effects of arthritis. He reinforced my entire skeleton with enamel, and evidently the disease can't affect that the same way..." He studies his hands thoughtfully. "I wasn't aware it was cured entirely." There was some mention made of bone marrow replacement, as well, but his mind had passed that over until now. He is not of a medical bent of mind, but he knows enough to begin to wonder how much of a role bone marrow plays in affecting blood, and rheumatoid arthritis is considered a blood disease.

"If the arthritis is halted, then whatever's happened in my lungs won't get any worse?"

[sarah-branigan.livejournal.com]

"Your blood tested negative for it. So, yes, you're cured." Of arthritis, anyway.

She shakes her head. "It's a little more complicated than that. You don't have cancer, but you do have pneumoconiosis. It's like miner's lung. Fine particles have settled into your lungs over the years and caused damage. Every time you exert yourself, you can make the scarring worse." The news isn't as grim as it could be, but Sarah still looks quite serious. "You can take anti-inflammatory drugs to keep the symptoms from flaring up, but conventional medicine doesn't have a way of reversing the damage."

[evillurks.livejournal.com]

That he's cured is good news, but it makes little difference since he was already aware the disease had ceased its ravages. The lack of familiar aches and pains helped to clue him in months before.

At the word 'cancer' he gives the slightest of twitches, and her explanation sets him to frowning once more. "I'll try to avoid housefires and heavy smokers, but I won't stop my work. What do you define as 'exerting myself'?" Having been sent home with anti-inflammatory drugs already, he has that part covered for the moment, although what sits amid the paperwork is only a trial sample.

[sarah-branigan.livejournal.com]

She gives a brief, wry smile. "What you do on a regular basis is exerting yourself. Running, fighting..." Probably even that laugh of his puts pressure on his lungs. "And as much as you'll try to avoid smoke, it's probably inevitable you'll run into it again."

She offers him the folder -- it's all copies, which she figures he'd like to have for his records. "There are certainly more futuristic therapies out there. Nanites to rebuild tissue, chemicals that can draw out the particles still in your lungs... but that's beyond my level of expertise. You'd have to talk to someone at the clinics about that."

Or he could try to find someone who manipulates lung tissue the same way Metody can manipulate bone. If she sees anyone with floating lung creatures in the Nexus, she'll let him know.

[evillurks.livejournal.com]

He leans forward to take the folder, and is forced to suppress an urge to cough. His symptoms have lessened since his time on the boat, however. In a day or two the rattling and wheezing may be back to a level that's harder to discern without an ear to his chest. "I'll... think about it." The Shadow gives a wheezing sigh, retrieving his reading glasses from the table to give the files a glance. "I can't retire. I'll go mad, and I'm not just being facetious. The needs of my mental health outweigh those of my body..." He frowns at an image of lumpy lung tissue in shades of grey.

[sarah-branigan.livejournal.com]

"No, I believe you," she replies quietly. The fact that he's pushed himself this long, and this hard, speaks to that. "In a regular hospital, even one in this city, I likely never would have walked again after what happened to me. You have time to find an advanced solution."