On this Thursday, I did not have work, but Etienne did. Having no other friends to hand out with (which was an issue I had recently begun getting concerned with), I decided that today was the day I’ll finally go to the hospital to get that bullet out of my leg.

I’ve been putting it off for so long because a hospital visit was always synonymous with a mountain of paperwork. It was already annoying enough when I knew most of my info by heart, but considering my current predicament, I wasn’t even sure if I could rely on my ‘memoire’ skill to get the info I needed.

I called a local clinic to set an appointment with a GP as soon as possible today, which happened to be in the early afternoon and proceeded to look for Laura’s document portfolio, the one in which everything from her birth certificate to my work contract were stored. I found it under my make-up table, where I’d left it. Although it did not contain any medical records, it did have her insurance card in it, which I hoped would be enough for a simple consultation.

The medical cabinet was located on the second floor of an office building, with a printing company occupying the floor beneath, and some accounting firm on the floor above. The place was large and white, but in a modern rather than a typical ‘sterile hospital’ way.

“Mademoiselle Dubois?” The receptionist called out. “Doctor Bliwni is ready.”

I stood up from my spot in the empty waiting area and headed in the direction the receptionist indicated.

Samuel Bliwni

He/Him

32

B

Healer

Diagnostician

Red sight

Blue sight

Roots of Galerina

Shallow flesh

Heightened senses

Physical skills not displayed

I saw the Status Window before I saw the short, wide, smiling man behind it.

“Please, come on it.” He gestured broadly. “You are my lucky first client of the day. I had a hospital shift earlier this morning, you see, and I find that I don’t get the same kind of contact with my patients there.

“Yes, umm, bonjour,” I greeted him, as I flowed him inside, still slightly taken aback by his over the top lively personality. “Should I also show you my ESW? I don’t have much on it.” I asked.

“Nah.” He gestured with his arm, indicating that it was no big deal, before inviting me to take a seat on the examination bed with another broad gesture.

I closed the door behind me, before doing as I was told. Dr Bliwni did not take his seat behind the desk opposite the exam bed. He started going through the shelves lining his office, likely searching for a pair of gloves.

“So, what brings you here today?” He asked, as he continued his search.

“I got into an accident, involving guns, and I got shot in the leg. But the wound closed up before anyone had had the time to do anything, so I have a bullet stuck inside my leg.” I explained bluntly.

I had prepared a whole bullshit story in case he’d ask more questions, which he did:

"You don't look like the type to break the law, so I'm assuming you've been messing around with your friends?”

“We were testing out skills, and well, accidents happen.” I explained. “I have high luck though, so it’s no big deal.” I added.

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The doctor had finally found a fresh set of gloves, and after putting them on, he turned towards me and shrugged:

“Well, at least my first case of the day is an interesting one. I was secretly hoping that you had something more original than a cold or a bad case of food poisoning.”

“Do I look like I have either of those?” I asked, half-jokingly, half-worried about whether there was a reason why he’d picked those two examples.

“No, not you specifically, but a lot of people who come through here do. Especially food poisoning. I don’t know whose idea it was to sell plants from the Wild Lands in grocery stores, but they sure did us doctors a big favour.”

“Oh, I bought a turnip like that once. Well, it wasn’t a turnip, as I realised when I got home.” I replied.

“I hope you did the sensible thing and threw it away?” The doctor asked with a mixture of an amused and judgemental look.

I nodded. That thing had been filled with loose tiny grains, like poppy seeds, and even if I had wanted to, I would not have known how to cook it.

“Well, then let’s get to business?” The doctor asked.

“Yes.”

I moved further back on the chair and pulled up my skirt to expose my calf. The scar tissue had mostly faded away, thanks to the System and whatever magic it worked on its users, leaving behind only a patch of red skin that vaguely looked like a cobweb.

“Tell me if you feel anything.” The doctor said as he began pressing around the spot at different angles.

I remained silent.

“Hmmm.” He spoke again after a while. “Turn your leg over … no exit wound, no abnormal deformations here… have you had any leg surgeries before?”

“Ummm…”

Memoire

MP- 1

Apparently in this life I hadn’t.

“No.” I replied.

“Okay, I will do a quick scan with my skill, please don’t look me directly in the eyes as I do it. You might feel a tingling or touch-like sensation. If it ever gets uncomfortable or painful, please say so.”

I nodded, and watched as his eyes lit up with yellow energy. As per instruction, I tried not to directly look at him as he moved around the table, performing what I assumed to be some sort of no-contact X-ray.

After a few minutes of a mixture of more poking, and observation, Dr Bliwni nodded, and stepped away from me, as if having come to a verdict.

“Unfortunately it’s too deep in, I won’t be able to remove it here, with the equipment and skills I have. But I will write you a reference for a surgery. Do you have any preference location-wise?”

“Um, no, not really, I can travel.” I replied, before adjusting my position and skirt.

“Okay, then come and have a seat at the desk, we can start working there.”

I hopped off the exam table and crossed the short distance separating me from a proper chair. I didn’t fail to notice that the doctor seemed to be feeling down, perhaps because of his inability to cure his ‘first patient of the day’.

“What kind of surgery will I need?” I asked.

“Oh, nothing serious. Let me get a diagram and I’ll show you where the bullet is.”

While I wondered if proper x-ray did not exist in this world, he pulled out an anatomical drawing of a leg, viewed from several angles, and proceeded to scribble something on it.

“They’ll do a proper scan at the hospital,” He spoke, as if to answer my unspoken question, before showing me the drawing. “This is the bone tuning between your knee and your ankle, and this is roughly where the bullet is, height-wise. And if you look from the other side, it’s slightly displaced to the left, a good handful of millimetres away from your bone, and angled up. You haven’t been feeling any muscle pain, have you?”

“No…” I answered as I examined his makeshift diagram. “I don’t feel anything at all. Anything out of the ordinary, I mean. I can feel my leg if I touch it, or if I bump it against something.”

“Yes, there shouldn’t be any pain based on the location and the healing stage of the wound anyway, but in case you do feel anything uncomfortable, over the counter painkillers should do the job. And if they don’t, then I’ll be happy to see you again.”

“So, what about that surgery?” I asked returning him his drawings.

“Yes, well I know several doctors who specialise in this kind of ‘light’ surgery, let me just get their info,” He said as he turned his attention towards his desktop computer and began typing something in.

While I waited, I was left with a strange feeling of disappointment. I had kind of expected for hospitals to work better in this world than they did in mine, considering all the advantages having medicine-oriented skills could bring. But then again, my case was a bit of a special one, and it was not unlikely that colds and similar diseases were healed on the spot.

----------------------------------------

A few minutes later, I found myself at the reception desk, with a short list of surgeons and their contact info well hidden inside my ‘holding void’.

“How much do I owe you?” I asked the receptionist.

“Let me see. One consultation, plus one skill use. I see you’re not a regular patient of our clinic. I’ll just need the name of your insurance, to check if it offers direct cashback, or if you have to file a form.”

“Sure thing.” I handed the receptionist my insurance and ID cards in case they’d need it.

They typed away for a few moments, before asking:

“Laura Emilie Geneviève?”

“Dubois de la Sablonnière.” I confirmed.

“Date of birth?”

“16th of May 29.”

The receptionist nodded.

“Alright. It seems that everything is covered by your insurance. I’ll send them the invoice. You must have one hell of an inclusive package. Usually, the companies make patients pay a symbolic euro or two, just to make it harder for us hospitals to manage our budgets.”

There wasn’t much I could say to that, so I thanked the receptionist for their help, and headed home thinking about when I should schedule this surgery and what kind of research, if any, I should do beforehand.