Grizzly Science - Ch. 5

Chapter 5

Grant had gotten to the treatment center, and was struck by how utilitarian the outside looked -- just a glass and metal building with very little shrubbery around.

He hesitated outside the glass doors out of sheer nervousness, and shook himself mentally, then walked inside.

Grant had put out the glowing ember at the end of his cigar in his car's ashtray before leaving the car, and left his cigar in it's case on his seat.

Inside was another matter -- it looked warm and inviting -- splashes of color were randomly arranged in geometric shapes on at least half of the walls. Short well-cared for ferns were positioned at most of the corners.

Walking to the receptionist's desk, he stopped in front of it, and showed his appointment card to one of the receptionists who was gazing at him with a sunny smile on her face. The other one was busy talking on a headset phone to someone, and typing away at her computer.

The receptionist quickly glanced at the card, then nodded briskly. She didn't bat an eye -- all kinds of people had come in the last few months, so it was all old hat to her.

"Right. I'll show you the way."

She whispered something to the other, then stood up, with a bright smile. "This way, Sir."
She led him toward a long hallway to the left of the front desk.

Grant noticed that there were quite a few rooms with their doors closed. He scratched his beard as he considered the reason. Perhaps there were a few patients today?

He didn't have much time to contemplate this as she spoke again.

"Here." She gestured to her left -- an open door. "This is where your appointment is. Your assigned technician will be with you in a few minutes."

Grant shrugged, and entered the office, finding a seat.

The female receptionist smiled, then started to close the door. At Grant's quizzical expression, she halted. "This is to ensure patient confidentiality."

Grant nodded. Apparently that was enough to satisfy her, so she closed the door with a gentle pull.
He sat down on a comfortable chair, and crossed his legs, feeling awkward and nervous. He didn't know what to expect, and hoped the appointment wouldn't take too long, even though it was only Sunday afternoon.

He gazed around the room -- which resembled a doctor's office, with a thinner mattress on top of a metal gurney-type of contraption next to the door. Opposite it was a medium-sized desk and several filing cabinets to each side of it. A closed laptop was seated on top of the desk, with folders and a jar of cotton swabs.

The walls were light beige -- giving a feeling of neutrality and warmth that was offset by the cold impersonality of the room. Grant had the feeling that this room wasn't exactly a home to the technicians.

He gazed at the corner near the bed, and saw an IV pole. He sighed, suspecting he'd be hooked up to an IV again while doing the treatment.

The door opened to something that surprised him.

Grant turned toward the door, and was greeted with the sight of a red-headed man with a nicely trimmed beard. Despite his profession, he had a hint of muscle in his arms as he walked in, and seated himself at the computer chair.

He stayed quiet as the technician busied himself with opening the laptop, barely looking at him, and pulling up a file, which Grant assumed was his latest health chart.

The technician swiveled around, with a smile on his face, and pretty green eyes half-shrouded by oval glasses. "Well. Sorry for being so rude. I'm Brent. Your name is Grant Peterson, isn't it?"

Grant felt oddly tongue tied, but nodded.

'Brent' continued on, "I see from your chart that you have lung cancer?"

Grant forced himself to look away, and exhaled lightly. It would not do to advertise. "Yeah."

Brent didn't seem to be fazed by Grant's brusque manner, as he glanced back at the chart. "Well, shall we get started?"

Grant blinked, then stared at him. "Started? What do we do?"

Brent gazed at him with his smile. He gestured to the mattress. "Sit there. I'll explain the process."

Grant stood up, and sat down on the mattress, and waited.

"Alright. Basically, I will be putting an IV to keep you stable - this is a precautionary measure. Then I'll inject the nanites into your IV tube and it will enter your body through your IV."

He started swabbing Grant's inner arm with an alcohol-saturated cotton ball, trying to find the vein.
He leaned closer, and noticed Grant's cigar scent. "I see you smoke cigars, do you, Sir?"

Grant's throat became dry then he coughed slightly to cover his embarrassment. "Yeah. Um, call me Grant."

Brent studied Grant momentarily, then nodded as if he saw something he liked. "Grant, it is. Call me Brent."

Grant was feeling slightly twitchy having the cute technician so near him, but he quickly suppressed those feelings. "Okay..."

Before he knew it, a needle was pushed into his vein. He had hardly felt the pinprick since he had been thinking heavily.

"There. It's inserted. Lay down, Grant. It's best to be as comfortable as possible." Brent gently pushed against Grant's chest when he didn't move immediately, and nodded in satisfaction when he did lay down.

Grant laid there, feeling a bit awkward, and apprehensive. He could have sworn that the technician had left his hand on his chest a tiny bit longer than what a straight man would do.

There was nothing he really could do about it. Chances were that this guy was entirely straight and had very good bedside manner. He did feel nervous about this, but Brent had been nothing but friendly and forthcoming on the explanations.

Grant turned his head to look at Brent. "Okay. What am I supposed to expect? I mean...after these things are in me?"

Brent touched Grant's arm lightly in a reassuring manner. It seemed as if he could tell that Grant was nervous. "Hey. It's okay. Let's see... you may feel extremely hungry from time to time -- and that would be normal. It's the nanites' way of replenishing your own energy reserves."

He coughed and blushed slightly before speaking again. "Er, well. In most cases, a minor side effect tends to be that patients can get an overactive libido."

He turned away, clearing his throat again. "On the bonus side, it tends to heal old injuries like new in addition to the target that we program it to fix."

Grant gazed up at the ceiling, a sigh escaping his lips. "So is there any pain?"

Brent turned back toward Grant with a look of surprise. "No! Not at all. There may be some discomfort, perhaps some nausea or vomiting, possibly itching, but no pain."

Brent continued, and patted Grant's arm again. "Stay put. I need to get the nanites."

Grant didn't respond, but one thought stood out. Where would I go?

Brent left and returned within several minutes holding a thick bodied syringe with a thin needle.

Grant glanced at the syringe container, seeing it appeared to have metallic flakes swirling around inside it.

Brent wasted no time injecting the silvery solution into the IV tube, and watched the stream of tiny nanites make its way into Grant's arm.

He spoke quietly, but loud enough for Grant to hear. "There. It's entering your body now. All you need to do is remain calm. It will take several hours before they take effect."

Grant looked quizzically at Brent. "Uh...how do they know what to do?"

Brent sighed, debating whether to go into depth or keep it simple. The simple aspect of the debate won over. "The simple explanation is that the engineers programmed the nanites to seek out illnesses or injuries while inside people. They also used your health chart to specify the nanite's priorities in their repairing."

Once the last of the nanites had been introduced to Grant's body, Brent waited several moments before deciding that Grant wouldn't reject them immediately.

He bent over, pulling the IV out slowly and covering the puncture point with a clean cotton swab, and some gauze tape.

Grant frowned, looking up at Brent in mild surprise. "Is that it?"

Brent chuckled. "Yep. That's it. I'll send a scanning machine with you though -- to keep constant tabs on the nanites for the next twenty four hours. It just makes sure the nanites are still doing their job. Bring it back tomorrow afternoon." He scribbled something on a paper in Grant's folder, then encased a small PDA-like device in his hand.

Grant swung his legs over the edge of the metal gurney, not sure what to expect. "...So um...when do I expect things to start?"

Brent turned, then leaned against the desk's edge, shrugging his shoulders. "In most treatments, noticeable effects happen in roughly two hours."

Grant slid off the bed, and was about to stand up when blackness swam in front of his eyes, and dizziness swamped him, pitching him forward.

Brent was there in a flash, grabbing onto Grant's arm, and trying to provide support. He grunted under the full force of Grant's body, as dead weight pushed on his back and legs.

"Whoa, big guy...Take it easy."

Grant blinked away the stars, then he started to realize he was practically hanging onto Brent, and took a step back in confusion.

He found himself staring into amused green eyes.

Grant found himself blinking, then murmured thanks. He spoke in a worried tone. "What just happened?"

Brent held his hand out close to the underside of Grant's arm. "You nearly fainted on top of me... Your lungs aren't operating at optimum efficiency..."

Grant found himself feeling better, and less dizzy, then nodded. "Oh. Thanks."

Brent smiled warmly, then handed the device he was holding in his hand to Grant. "No problem. Now, here's your scanner. Now, remember. We need your scans back tomorrow -- at least after 3 p.m."

Grant took the scanner in his hand, not really sure what to do. "Right. Do I just come back to the office here, or...?"

Brent shook his head. "Just leave it at the front desk with the receptionist. See? It has your ID code written on the back which corresponds with the one in your chart."

Grant turned it around, and saw the code, then nodded slightly. "Okay."

Brent smiled at him, and clapped his hand on Grant's shoulder, then let go. "Don't worry. It'll be fine as long as you take it easy. If you really have more questions..."

He went to his desk, and scribbled something on a small piece of scrap paper. Brent turned, and handed the paper to Grant who took it with puzzlement.

Brent pointed to the paper. "That's my phone number if you have questions regarding the nanites."

Grant stared at the paper, then at the cute technician. "Okay... I'll do that, if I have any." He smiled tentatively at Brent in gratitude, then realized that he was staring at Brent for perhaps too long. He tore his gaze away, and blushed slightly.

"Er, thanks again."

He exited the office after scooping up his jacket in one arm, and holding the scanner in the other hand. His thoughts darkened, as doubt and resignation crept in while he walked out of the building. No matter how hunky his technician was, he was most likely straight. Perhaps he'd be better off only in his fantasies.

He sighed, his breath gusting in white puffs in the cold, crisp autumn afternoon.

[TBC]

[Previous: Chapter 4] [Next: Chapter 6]

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