Floo Network

Autumn 69
[Meridian Clinic] As Long As There’s Rain

Started by Odhrán Ó Dálaigh, May 01, 2021, 12:52:22 pm

Odhrán Ó Dálaigh

May 01, 2021, 12:52:22 pm Last Edit: May 01, 2021, 12:58:16 pm by Royal_Poet
Odhrán would have been hard pressed to say why, but the last two weeks had been exceptionally busy. Patient after patient, often with little breathing room in-between. His head felt full and even the pensieve up in his office did little to relieve him of the dark and gruesome memories his patients brought to the clinic every day. He felt as though reality was slowly slipping his grasp, as he witnessed other people's trauma again and again in the plight to somehow make it all better. He needed a break to ground himself in something whole and innocent. He longed for a long afternoon in the gardens or maybe a weekend away in Quebec? He missed Canada lately, or more accurate the life he'd lead there devoted to study and theory rather than the practical application of knowledge. It had been less gruesome.

He made his way down to reception to ask his assistant to cancel his appointments. He was in no state to be looking into someone's head today. Legillimency required focus and equilibrium. While he was reasonably sure he could force the former, he was less convinced the latter would be possible to fake.

"What about the lady with the bad leg?" his receptionist asked.

Right, there was that. He remembered the file of a woman who'd been rather desperate to get an appointment: she'd suffered a string of physical injuries incurred mostly during her work at a dragon reservation. It wasn't the kind of appointment he normally took. He worked predominantly with mental and spell damage patients, the neurology of magic if one could call it that. Odhrán probably should have recommend a physical specialist at St Mungos, but there had been something about the file that had intrigued him. She was such a trouble magnet that he wondered if there was some sort of obscurial component to her condition. Maybe her magic subconsciously willed her into these accidents.

"She can come," he said simply. He didn't expect the case would take him long. Once his curiosity was satisfied, he'd probably issue that transferral to an appropriate specialist.

"Send her up my office when she arrives, Linda."

"I will, but my name is Margaret."

Odrán shrugged. "Thank you Linda, that will be all."

He never listened to his receptionists. Linda/ Margaret was the forth one in the space of half a year. How was he supposed to keep their names straight when they never stayed around? The thought that his abrasive attitude had anything to do with the matter hadn't yet occurred to him.

He retreated upstairs, made himself a cup of tea and picked up his sketch pad. By his estimation he had an hour, maybe an a little less before the woman arrived. That meant there was plenty of time to get in some much needed rest and recreation in the form of making a new drawing. He pondered for a moment before making the first couple of charcoal marks on the paper. Château Frontenac, Quebec was still on his mind, so he now committed it to the page.


May 03, 2021, 04:08:42 pm #1 Last Edit: May 08, 2021, 10:56:15 pm by Nerva Sangréal
Its been a week since she was suspended and had to work in London until she was allowed back to Sweden. After a few rough nights adjusting to the sounds of the city, she woke up in her room at the Leaky Cauldron. Temporarily forgetting her physical condition, she stepped out of bed before falling face first on the ground, a shot of pain flashing through her leg up to her side. With a groan she rolled over on her back and let out a deep sigh.  "Oh yeah, the leg"she thought to herself. For a few minutes she stared at the ceiling, waiting for the pain to subside as she reminisced about the clear blue skies at the dragon reserve.

She let out a sigh and slowly got up, climbing back onto the edge of the bed while keeping her bad leg as stiff as possible. From her nightstand she grabbed a potion and massaged the oily substance onto her skin, her fingers tracing over the deep scars that ran vertically over her leg. She got this potion at St.Mungos to help fade the scars but the fact that it was going slowly, was a sign that the initial injury was quite severe.Guerin had been warned years ago that her way of working and flying was taking its toll on her body but being a headstrong woman - she kept on pushing. After a dragon smashed its tail against her side, breaking a couple of ribs and shattering her leg - her body was struggling. At the time she did receive treatment and her ribs were almost completely healed but her leg had not. With healing spells and a bone growing potion, it did heal the shattered bone and torn ligaments but there was still a burning pain. Her doctor had told her to be patient and rest but it just didn't feel right. Guerin was curious if the healing was going slowly because she was struck by a magical creature. So she made an appointment at this spell and damage specialist in Knock turn Alley. She didn't think she was cursed by the dragon but maybe in its startled moment, it accidentally transferred some magic to her leg. Either way, as a dragonologist she was curious.

She rubbed the remaining lotion over her hands, the bruises on her hand from punching the wizard were almost gone. Guerin always had a bruise or a bandage somewhere and it never bothered her since she didn't have a vain streak. After a quick stretch, she grabbed her leg brace that consisted out of leather straps and metal. It was to support her leg and restrict too many movements- which was an annoyance for this physically active woman pre-injury. Once strapped in she picked out one of the dresses her superior Tillbott had gotten her. She would never had gotten these items herself but Tillbott figured out that wearing dresses would work better with her leg brace. Begrudgingly she agreed with her suggestion after struggling with pants for over an hour. Secretly Tillbott was trying to make  Guerin a bit more feminine since she had quite striking features but any attempt ended in failure the moment Guerin opened her mouth. A beastly beauty is how Tillbot would describe her- a comment that was often met with an annoyed look.  With a splash of water, she washed her freckled face and brushed her wild hair. After looking at her face for a second she deemed her appearance adequate.

With a piece of beef jerky in her mouth, she grabbed a thick cardigan and headed out.Guerin left the Leaky cauldron with enough time to find this practice of ..Ó Dálaigh. After a couple of wrong turns, dead ends and dodgy shops- she finally found it. With time to spare, she figured sitting in the waiting room would be better than waiting outside in Knock turn Alley. Quietly she opened the door and approached the desk.  "I'm here for my appointment. Name is Guerin" She said coldly as her golden brown eyes stared down at the receptionist. It was common for people to get startled when first meeting her due to her height and stoic facial expression. Once the woman confirmed her arrival, she sat down in the waiting room, keeping her bad leg stretched forward to prevent too much bending.

Next to her she had a bag with her medical files she had copied at St. Mungos. Some notes were in Swedish but with the added anatomical pictures and drawings, it was quite easy to understand. The thickness of the file was quite worrisome but to Guerin it was just the hazards of working in the field. She had broken almost every bone, sprained plenty and even a few head injuries here and there. Normal people would stop getting in such precarious situations but not her. It could be her high threshold for pain or just plain old stubbornness to persevere. Either way, she was playing with fire.
She tucked her hair behind her ear, tilting her head backwards to lean against the wall. The amount of walking was causing her bad leg to twitch ,so in order to ride out the pain, she closed her eyes to rest until she was called in.

Odhrán Ó Dálaigh

Odhrán was still shading his sketch when Margaret led the lady he had been expecting up to his office. Time had passed so quickly, Odhrán was almost baffled when he saw her standing in the doorframe before entering with some difficulty. He could see from her walk that she was favouring her healthy leg. Not a big surprise for a trauma patient but all the same noteworthy.

For a moment, he found his mind rather pleasantly engaged by the lady in front of him. She was very tall for a woman, but her face has pretty features and determined eyes. He liked that about her and found that it was quite the opposite from what he had expected to see. She didn't seem like a weak and phlegmatic type that revelled in being ill. If anything, his first impression was that she was an active and sporty type of person.

"Welcome to Meridian Clinic," he said. "I'm healer Odhrán Ó Dálaigh. Why don't you take a seat so we can get to know each other a little bit better."

He stood up and pulled a chair out for her, helping her to get seated as comfortably as possible. In her case, it didn't require a mind reader to determine that she was in more pain than she decided to let on. A simple look into her face would have told him as much, legillimency or no legillimency.

"I have a couple of questions to start us of with, if you don't mind. Can I have a detailed description of the pain and complaint you are having? Exactly where does it hurt and how?"

While his assistant had gotten some details when making the appointment, he always liked to hear the chief complaint in the patient's own words. It was surprising how often just a simple patient interview had completely changed how he approached a case. It was easily one of the most valuable tools at his disposal.

"I also understand that you have been receiving treatment from my colleagues at St Mungos already. If you don't mind can you summarise your treatment progress for me? I am assuming you've come to see me for a second opinion. If there is something in particular you feel is going wrong with your treatment plan, please highlight those concerns to me."

He was deliberately trying to appear bored, or maybe even disinterested. Given what he had been able to find out about her history already, there was a particular concern on his mind. This patient clearly didn't care for their own well-being and had previously acted against medical advice she had been given. If she didn't care about her own health, then why should anybody else? His initial opinion of this consult likely being an exercise in futility hadn't changed, but maybe there was an opportunity to teach this patient that their attitude towards receiving help was rather counterproductive. If he could make a teaching moment out of that, he'd call the afternoon a success.


When the receptionist called her name, she opened her eyes and slowly got up. She grabbed her bag , moving slowly to the office. Trying to hide the throbbing pain in her leg with every step. Guerin was surprised to see a young man instead of an old goat. She was expecting an old man based on his credentials. Her eyes followed his movements as he pulled a chair out for her. He seemed nicer than the doctors at st. Mungos at first glance, though Guerin was mainly responsible for their tough love attitude at the hospital since she was a pain. Imagine trying to keep a headstrong witch in bed when she is twice your size and as stubborn as a mule. Safe to say, the nurses were not her biggest fans.

Before she sat down, she took the file out of her bag and placed it on his desk. Guerin raised an eyebrow when he asked her where it hurt, it was quite obvious what the problem was. They were probably his standard questions but she was fighting the urge to plop her leg on his desk to answer his question. His bored tone didn't go unnoticed and slowly she began to regret venturing out today. Maybe his credentials and positive gossip at the bar were just exaggerations.

In true Guerin style; with no shame or compunction she stood up and lifted up the side of her dress until her entire lower and upper leg were visible , barely hiding her underwear. Deep zig-zag scars running over her entire leg peaked from under the straps, the skins red and raised as if it only happened yesterday. Guerin looked back at him, eyes still as intense as before. She figured since he was a medical professional, seeing some skin wouldn't be odd, though her brazen way of flashing him her entire leg was maybe not standard patient behavior. Then again, Guerin was unconventional in the way she behaved. Almost callous, the Amazonian began answering his questions.

"I had my leg and ribs fractured by a dragons tail. At the time the leg was set in place with the Ferula spell and later on I received further treatment." quickly glossing over the fact that later meant a few hours. Having an injury in the middle of nowhere wasn't ideal, especially when your dangling from a broom in dragon country. Otto, her colleague had cast a splint on her leg before he could get her to the camp and have a professional look at it. He could cast healing spells but the injury looked so bad that he didn't know where to start. Since she couldn't sit on a broom, they had to apparate there in increments which meant she had to endure pain for over a while . Even for her, this was by far the most painful injury she'd ever had.  "They used Brackium Emendo and the Vulnera Sanentur spell.. and gave me Dittany and Skele-gro." The treatments and amount of potions were written in her file but she was used to give a detailed description of her injuries to inform the doctor or healer as much as possible.Getting injured and knowing how to treat yourself was just something you had to accept being a Dragonologist- a reality that was an alien concept to city dwellers.

"And that was two months ago." That's where her injury was odd as it didn't seem to have improved over two months despite having access to various healing spells and potions."At my check up at St.Mungos they suggested rest but they are biased because of my previous injuries. Since I've broken more bones than them, I know better when something isn't healing right." A bit snarky at the end but she was frustrated and tired, trying to hide these feelings behind her stoic face.

"Either they gave me a wrong batch of potions or something else is wrong. I know this isn't your expertise but I am curious if in the altercation, the dragon transferred magic onto my leg , causing the slow healing process."


Odhrán Ó Dálaigh

Odhrán was surprised at how forward she was in showing her injury. He expected such behaviour from his older patients, who were usually less concerned with their modesty, but the woman in front of him was still quite young and very attractive. His first instinct was to avert his eyes as looking straight at her legs felt somehow inappropriate.

He swallowed and cleared his throat. She was another patient and needed help. Focusing his mind on the professional, he took a look. Her injury had been a lot more serious that he had first assumed. Hypertrophic scars marred her skin and he could see that there had been issues with slough and infection. She had to have been through a pretty terrifying ordeal. He made a mental note of the symptoms he observed.

She gave a little bit of history as well. As far as Odhrán could tell is was standard treatment. Though he didn't think much of the healer's at St Mangled Hospital he couldn't see an obvious fault with their plan. They'd handled the case by the book. Not adventurous, not revolutionary, but solid and acceptable. Okay, he'd have probably prescribed Wiggenweld rather than Dittany had he been the primary healer in charge of her care, but that was hardly enough of a distinction to explain a delayed healing response.

Though Odhrán didn't like admitting to it, there was one particular sentence in her explanation that just rung true to him. She'd suffered so many injuries she knew what things ought to feel like when healing. It was that simple sentence that focused his attention and made him take her complaint seriously now.

"I would say it seems unlikely that the dragon transferred its magic," he ventured carefully in response to her question. "You're right in saying I'm not an expert, but dragons aren't really known for their poisonous and magical reactions. I wouldn't rule out though that maybe something else did. Perhaps some vegetation you were around, some dirt you got into the wound, maybe a spell cast badly during first aid or treatment? I'd ... have to take a closer look if I may..."

He trailed off as he retrieved his wand.

Reparifors. He cast the spell silently, not expecting much of a reaction. If she was right and she had a magically induced condition, the spell should alleviate her symptoms for a while. He'd be able to see her muscles relax as the spell took hold. He thought it more likely that it would do nothing.

"Just to get back to the pain for a moment, and I know it's probably frustrating as you've been asked this before, but how does it manifest? Sharp and stabbing pain? Sensitivity to touch? Numbness, tingling and pins and needles intermixed? A hot or burning sensation? Itching? And where exactly? Deep in the issue? Around the scars? All over?"

His mind was trying to traverse the branching tree of possible diagnoses as quickly as possible. Now that he was starting to investigate, it looked like there could be something to his initial theory. Maybe there was an obscurial component to this condition.

"And just to check, any changes to your casting lately? Any issues with holding spells? And how often to do you cast spells?"