"A general practitioner," Jude said, with all the snobbery that Foreman had ever felt for doctors who wouldn't buckle down and choose a real specialty. "He's in, he's out, and you're back in the waiting room before you've even had a chance to explain." She launched into the explanation Dr. Mitenko hadn't allowed her, but Foreman barely heard. He locked eyes with Amber when she came down the stairs, and she smirked at him. Right before she walked out of the room.
Foreman stiffened slightly--not enough that Jude noticed. Oh, so that was how she was going to play it? Leave him to the mercy of her family? He didn't know if she hoped he'd hate them, or get the lightning-fast version of Stockholm and love them. Either way, that was playing dirty. She'd recognized that he wanted her support and she'd all but laughed at him.
He'd show her. "I understand," he told Jude, patting her hand on his arm and smiling at her with a mixture of gentleness and the firm professionalism he showed to clinic patients. "That sounds like idiopathic peripheral neuropathy."
Jude's mouth opened for a moment, and then she beamed at him. "Oh dear," she said, utterly delighted. "Is it serious?"
Foreman nodded solemnly. "It can be. Is it your hands, or your feet too?"
"Oh, yes!" Jude clutched at his forearm. "And I just feel so tired all the time--could that be related?"
Chris Volakis, still standing nearby, watched them warily, although he didn't seem to mind Foreman usurping the family doctor's diagnosis. He'd been getting drinks, although Geoffrey's wife (Leila, Foreman thought he'd remembered it right) had begged off. "Is it treatable?" he asked, with a thoughtful frown.
Foreman looked up, extending his aura of doctorly authority. "Well, obviously it would be important to run some tests," he said. "But it's possible--" Here he looked meaningfully at Jude, and lowered his voice as if he was consigning her to a terminal illness. "--that you might have a B12 deficiency."
Jude finally let go of his arm, to touch her own chest as if she was checking that her heart was still beating.
"A vitamin--?" Chris started to ask, and Foreman nodded sternly, interrupting, "You might need to take supplements regularly for the rest of your life."
Chris blinked, and then a grin started to form on his face. "Pills?" he asked.
"Yes." Foreman touched Jude's shoulder. "I know it can be difficult," he started, but she shook her head, her eyes shining. "I knew that quack had missed something," she said.
Foreman smiled. In less than five minutes, he'd earned the goodwill of at least two of Amber's family members. Jude wanted a doctor to take her seriously; it wouldn't matter to her that a vitamin supplement was likely all that she needed. She'd feel important whenever she took them. And Chris looked like he didn't know whether to laugh or be impressed by Foreman's acumen. Well, Foreman would take either, gladly. Leila, who'd been sitting on the couch, seemed to have caught the by-play, too; at least, she seemed amused. When Amber came back into the room, she'd find that Foreman had gotten his footing even without her to guide him. Foreman took a sip of his rye and almost forgot how much he hated the stuff.
no subject
Foreman stiffened slightly--not enough that Jude noticed. Oh, so that was how she was going to play it? Leave him to the mercy of her family? He didn't know if she hoped he'd hate them, or get the lightning-fast version of Stockholm and love them. Either way, that was playing dirty. She'd recognized that he wanted her support and she'd all but laughed at him.
He'd show her. "I understand," he told Jude, patting her hand on his arm and smiling at her with a mixture of gentleness and the firm professionalism he showed to clinic patients. "That sounds like idiopathic peripheral neuropathy."
Jude's mouth opened for a moment, and then she beamed at him. "Oh dear," she said, utterly delighted. "Is it serious?"
Foreman nodded solemnly. "It can be. Is it your hands, or your feet too?"
"Oh, yes!" Jude clutched at his forearm. "And I just feel so tired all the time--could that be related?"
Chris Volakis, still standing nearby, watched them warily, although he didn't seem to mind Foreman usurping the family doctor's diagnosis. He'd been getting drinks, although Geoffrey's wife (Leila, Foreman thought he'd remembered it right) had begged off. "Is it treatable?" he asked, with a thoughtful frown.
Foreman looked up, extending his aura of doctorly authority. "Well, obviously it would be important to run some tests," he said. "But it's possible--" Here he looked meaningfully at Jude, and lowered his voice as if he was consigning her to a terminal illness. "--that you might have a B12 deficiency."
Jude finally let go of his arm, to touch her own chest as if she was checking that her heart was still beating.
"A vitamin--?" Chris started to ask, and Foreman nodded sternly, interrupting, "You might need to take supplements regularly for the rest of your life."
Chris blinked, and then a grin started to form on his face. "Pills?" he asked.
"Yes." Foreman touched Jude's shoulder. "I know it can be difficult," he started, but she shook her head, her eyes shining. "I knew that quack had missed something," she said.
Foreman smiled. In less than five minutes, he'd earned the goodwill of at least two of Amber's family members. Jude wanted a doctor to take her seriously; it wouldn't matter to her that a vitamin supplement was likely all that she needed. She'd feel important whenever she took them. And Chris looked like he didn't know whether to laugh or be impressed by Foreman's acumen. Well, Foreman would take either, gladly. Leila, who'd been sitting on the couch, seemed to have caught the by-play, too; at least, she seemed amused. When Amber came back into the room, she'd find that Foreman had gotten his footing even without her to guide him. Foreman took a sip of his rye and almost forgot how much he hated the stuff.