Leaving the young man to his duties, Becky continues her way through the hallway, passing through a set of double doors that separates the floor between the public areas and the staff only rooms. Even on the other side of the floor, the hallway was still a bit quiet and dead. There’s a lack of rooms on the employee side of the floor, but all the rooms were much more spacious, allowing employees to to lose themselves in the various rooms open to them. Most of the rooms are used to house various types of medical supplies and equipment in order to help speed up the process without having to go to other floors.
As Becky turned down one of the corners, she looks to her left and instantly stops in front of the rooms she was looking for; a wall-mounted, silver plate is screwed in, the words “Liquid Supplies” etched into it. Just below it is a number pad and little screen. Without even having to look at the number pad, she’s able to press a six-digit code flawlessly. The screen lights up, reading “Welcome, Dr. Hoffstad.” The door slowly slides open and she steps inside.
The walls are covered in numerous shelves, fridges, and coolers. The room itself is cool like a breeze in the early Spring season. Thankfully, Becky’s coat is just enough to help keep her warm as she wanders around the room for what she needs.
She stops in the middle of the room and lightly taps the tip of her finger on her bottom lip as she thinks out loud, “Mr. Reins is having heart problems. It’s obvious that anything that could cause his body to produce its own adrenaline would be a no-no. However, he eats a lot of red meats, so it might taste pretty fatty instead of lean. What can I give him that will add some flavor, yet keep his blood flow right in the event of a heart attack? I only want to collect only about five or six vials from him over the next few days. For now.”
Indecision fills Becky’s mind as she considers a small selection of widely used prescriptions, IVs, and liquid for patients, each one having its own benefits and negatives for the recipient and herself. Unclear of what she should settle on that will crave her taste buds, she walks over to one of the coolers and grabs a small document having just over it on a nail. She flips through it hoping to find a good solution for everything.
As she’s browsing the paper as a catalog she hears the door sliding open behind her, followed by a low-pitched, but soothing male voice, “Somebody in need of an IV bag, Becky?”
The top of Becky’s ear gently twitches as the sudden voice speaking to her; she keeps her eyes on the paper in her hands, “Got a patient in 407 who’s in for having heart related problems. He practically follows a strict died of red meats, so his blood it probably fat as hell. I can prescribe some drugs for him with the heart thing.”
Footsteps echo behind the man’s voice as he responds, “As for the fat in his blood, I take it he has high cholesterol?”
“Most likely, but if I give him anything to help regulate it it’ll taste bitter, and you know I can’t stand bitter things.”
As Becky continues to flip through page after page, a light caramel toned arm comes from over her shoulder and begins tracing the lines on the page, “Hmm… For this instance, I would suggest….” The finger stops tracing and points directly at a name in the middle o the page, “C73X21-722. It helps cleanse the body of any harmful toxins and can help regulate irregular levels of certain chemicals in the blood stream.”
The sudden thought of having a cleansed patient brings a disgusted look on Becky’s face. The memory of her last encounter with somebody who was like that, a hardcore vegan, makes her stomach churn and the urge to gag dominate in her throat, “Oh god, that sounds disgusting!” She quickly turns around to face the person who’s calmly giving her advice, “Are you trying to make me vomit?!”
Towering over her like a tree casting a shadow, a clean shaven, light-skinned man keeps his eyes on the paper in Becky’s hand. His head is free from any hair, shining in the bright ceiling lights above. His body’s muscular build is wrapped around in a white medical coat similar to Becky’s but his reaches down and stops just above the back of his knees as opposed to Becky’s, who’s stops at her ankles. Tightly pinned to the breast pocket of his coat is a name tag that reads “Dr. Derek Brown.”
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