Scriptorium I 2016 13
confusion morphing into bewilderment, all out fear creeping in. “Getting to know a patient for the first time. A doctor is introduced to a person’s body first, of course, and all the things wrong with that body. We look at your numbers and levels and study a linear map of all your biological systems. But a doctor cannot really get to know their patient until after the emergency is over. Once the soul is relaxed, we can finally meet the real person, and that’s what makes this strenuous job worth the trouble. It’s not just about helping people, but helping people you have a connection with.”
The fear was gone, mostly; but the bewilderment still existed in high dosage.
“So. Let us connect. Tell me about yourself.”
John found himself shaking his head, but for no reason. Like snow falling from the sky, remembrances began to fall from his mind. As he picked one up at a time, he’d reflect on its light impact on his life—this to the awkward affect of not responding to Dr. Iman while maintaining a stupid half-smile on his face.
“Mr. Weston,” the doctor prodded, “Do you remember who you are?”
The thimble-like device on John’s finger released a gentle blue flickering glow, too subtle for John to notice. Behind him, the monitor kicked on again, not revealing Roger this time, or any new nurses, but instead an organized chart of lists and information pertaining to John’s physical health. The screen displayed blood pressure, heart rate, body temperature, blood sugar and cholesterol levels, as well as data on urinalysis, complete blood count, values in electrolytes, protein and enzyme levels, and breakdowns of waste and toxins.
Dr. Iman could optically adjust any portion of text in the report with a small remote control in his palm, unbeknownst to John, who faced away from the monitor—at Dr. Iman—and was unaware that his biological blueprint was on display. It wouldn’t have mattered to John anyway, as he had begun to rattle off random remembrances from his upbringing and young adulthood.
The doctor listened with divided attention. He was, of course, interested in the past happenings that would inform his patient’s personality, but to serve
his patient properly, he had to concentrate equally on what John’s body was telling him while his mind reminisced; hence, the over-the-shoulder scrolling. The finger device was no miracle technology. It was essentially a wireless receiver and receptor channeling a network of signals from thousands of microscopic nanobots previously injected into John’s bloodstream. As he rattled on, programmed bot squads assigned to each major organ and operational system in John’s body were scanning for abnormalities. By getting John to speak about himself, in particular his most favored memories, the bots are able to transmit the clearest, most stress-free interpretations of data to be recorded and displayed.
This wasn’t an unusual practice: even the doc had bots monitoring him, although his were made of a stronger biometalic fiber with a more complex system of encryptment and other safeguards. Doctors may not make a lot of money, especially compared to labor workers and engineers, but they’re smart enough to conspire into a pact to see that they get the best preventative healthcare in the union.
Dr. Iman took a bit more care to review the details of John’s fractured fibula, the thinner bone of two that travel down from your knee to foot. A circulating 3D image of it displayed in close-up on the monitor. John’s focus was pulled from his ramblings as he noticed the doctor’s attention wane and shift to something behind him. He thought nothing of it once he craned his neck to see the image of his own bone on the screen. Went back to yacking.
John delighted in talking about himself. Not usually, but in these circumstances something propelled him to review all sorts of facets of his life and understanding of the world around him. He wasn’t known to share his opinions on politics, or to divulge his techniques to maintaining disciplined working habits, or to banter on about philosophical possibilities. Could be he wasn’t asked much, or not asked recently. Could also be he never cared as much about the workings of the outer world as he did the inner world. If you put your life’s energy into one, where would you find the time and inclination to explore the other?
So John was learning about himself, in a way: Expressing concerns about the union’s control over branches of agriculture, manufacturing and trading; considering the implications of continued bio-engineering and the forthcoming role of bot-botics, the field of automatic engineering and micro-engineering through robotics; and questioning why his young exploratory soul chose one professional direction as opposed to another, namely the entertainment industry for which he marveled at as an obsessive, button-punching, game-playing kid.