Physical Check-Up From Top To Bottom

Posted on 25 Jul 2014 @ 1:07am by Petty Officer 1st Class Oliver Morris & Commander Andreus Kohl

1,518 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Episode 06 - Legend of Souls
Location: USS Galileo - Deck 3, Sickbay
Timeline: MD 05 - 2205 hours

[ON]

Wearing his science uniform beneath a pale blue lab coat, Andreus Kohl was stood towards the heart of Sickbay. An age old philosophical question would have applied: was Sickbay still a Sickbay when there were no patients around? Kohl was stroking his beard, as he stared down an LCARS panel on the opposite wall. His sapphire eyes were locked onto a sensor analysis, from a Lyshan III soil sample, which rotated in one quadrant of the display. In another quadrant was a summary report written by Myrddin, and in another quadrant was a video tutorial about how to interpret soil sensor readings. The overlapping auditory and visual input was enough to distract Kohl from the sound of the doorway opening.

Oliver walked in to Sick Bay. It had been a long time since he had a physical. He stepped in to see a person he hadn't met before. Oliver walked toward him, "Hello Sir, I am looking for a Doctor. I am here for my yearly."

"Well, hullo. I'm called Andreus," Kohl said brightly. He twisted to face Oliver, and after he told the computer to send the LCARS display to sleep, he grinned at Oliver and offered the younger man his full attention. "I'm a Science Officer aboard Galileo, but I'm certified as a Nurse Practitioner," said Kohl, and he swept a hand towards one of the biobeds. "I can conduct your medical examination, if you'd like."

"I am not a fan of these yearly exams but you got to do what you got to do." Oliver smiled. He walked to the closest BioBed and took a seat. "I am ready when you are."

While Oliver was walking towards the biobed, Kohl took a detour. By the time Oliver was seated and settled, Kohl was pushing an antigrav equipment tray to his bedside. "Do you know why we ask officers for yearly medical exams?" Kohl asked, while he inspected the settings on his tricorder and tested the hand-held probe.

"Yeah, to make sure we don't keel over in the middle of the job." Oliver sat straight up and waited for Kohl to start scanning. "I don't think that'll be a problem with me."

"Oh, and what makes you say that?" Kohl asked. He palmed the tricorder and grasped the sensor probe with his other hand. Kohl raised both warbling devices and pointed them in the general direction of Oliver's body.

"I wasn't born with any genetic defects, no allergies and, in my last physical I passed with flying colors. I doubt you'd find anything different since then." Oliver smiled.

With some amusement and a smirk of his own, Kohl said, "Ah." He waved the sensor probe down the length of Oliver's right arm, and then his left. "In that case," Kohl went on, "I hope you'll be happy to learn I'm not wasting your time after all. You are mistaken about the reason for the medical examination. Sudden death isn't what I'm here to prevent."

"Disease, hypertension, depression." Oliver smiled. "Strange symbiotic beings impregnating human males.?"

"Now you're getting it," Kohl replied in a sing-song timbre. He stepped closer to the biobed and ran the tricorder down Oliver's chest. "Starfleet Officers are exposed to all manner of strange, new environments and we don't really know how our bodies are going to react. (You wouldn't believe how bitchy I got when I was exposed to trans-dimensional propulsion radiation)." --Kohl popped his eyebrows to really land that point home-- "The only way we can monitor the changes in our bodies is through routine medical surveillance. Going forward, I have a record of how your body is supposed to operate, before you get impregnated in the line of duty."

Oliver smiled and sat back for comfort.

Stepping towards the biofunction monitor, Kohl engaged the sensors within the mattress pad of the biobed itself. He continued his interview as he did so. "What can you tell me," Kohl asked, "about your eating habits?"

"I try to eat as eat as healthy as possible. Fish and chicken mostly and a lot of veggies."

Nodding at Oliver's words, Kohl considered the vital signs appearing on the biofunction monitor. He added, "And how about your drinking habits?"

"Moderate, but mostly synthehol. Very rarely do I drink the real stuff."

Kohl leaned into the face of the biofunction monitor even more closely. He narrowed his eyes on those readings on the display, as if they might answer the question themselves. "Is synthehol the extent of your narcotics consumption?" asked Kohl.

"Yes."

Appearing to be satisfied with the vital signs, and Oliver's answer, Kohl stepped away from the biofunction monitor. He took a couple of notes on his tricorder and he rounded to the foot of the biobed. Looking down at Oliver, Kohl asked, "So what do you do for fun?"

"Work out in the gym, soccer on the Holodeck and, reading in my quarters. And you?"

Kohl counted his answers off on his fingers; one-two-three. "Design decadent replicator patterns for desserts, drink heavily, and dance," Kohl said. There was a blatantly playful lilt in his tone. "And don't tell anyone, but I like sparring too."

"How's my health Doc," Oliver asked with a bright smile. "Clean bill?"

Chewing on his lower lip, the expression on Kohl's face took on a clouded quality. He took a single step closer to where Oliver lay on the biobed. In a conspiratorial tone, Kohl said, "To be honest with you, I'm not a doctor."

"Not a doc...What do you mean?" Confused at the prospect. Did it mean he had to come back for another physical?

"It means I am trained to assess if you have a 'clean bill of health', as you say," Kohl explained. "But I'm not a Doctor. I'm certified as a Nurse Practitioner." Kohl smiled at Oliver.

"For the most part..." Kohl had started to say, but then he trailed off. His eye-contact with Oliver had broken when Kohl's sapphire eyes were attracted back to the biofunction monitor behind the biobed. Kohl held up his tricorder beside the biofunction monitor, his eyes comparing the readings. "Your sensor readings appear to be painting a picture of health," Kohl said distractedly, "but there's just one reading in particular that I can't quite fathom..."

Kohl began to wave the tricorder down towards Oliver's gluteal muscles.

"What is wrong with my...back side?"

Kohl patted his hand against the soft cushioning of the biobed beside Oliver's buttocks. "If there's nothing wrong with your ass, there must be something wrong with the biobed," Kohl muttered, as he pulled up an edge of the sensor-lined mattress. He reached his hand underneath, and he pulled out a Tribble.

Confused and slightly shocked at the Tribble in Kohl's hand Oliver didn't know if he should laugh or cower in terror. "That's something that doesn't happen every day."

"That doesn't happen every day," Kohl said. His words were in agreement with Oliver, but there was an uncertainty beneath them. A quaver in his vowels, as he mulled it over. He stared at the Tribble hard, and he said, "Not everyday. But it happens to me today. It's happening to me a lot today."

"Tribbles eat to breed and they're practically born pregnant." Oliver laughed. He petted the Tribble in Kohl's hand. "Thank goodness they're not born feral too."

Kohl tilted his head to the left, as he considered the Tribble with a steady look. Between the rueful smile on his lips, he said, "If they were, we might have an easier time controlling their population growth. As it is, they're far too adorable to risk exposure to harm."

"I have to warn you, don't get too attached." Oliver laughed.

"You know," Kohl said in a familiar timbre, "I didn't grow up with pets. I can appreciate pets. They, uh, they look interesting. And there's something to be said for a being who will give you unconditional loyalty and affection. (I can't find a man who will do that much.) But I didn't grow up with pets. I can't say I totally understand what the point of pets are."

To emphasize his point, Kohl held up the Tribble a little higher. He turned away for a moment to set the furry animal down on the biobed beside them. He asked the computer to hold the Tribble in a forcefield, and then returned his attentions to Oliver.

"Other than the Tribble is there anything else you need from me?" Oliver was starting to grow a bit impatient.

"No, uh, no, I don't need anything from you at all," replied Kohl. He set aside his tricorder and his sensor probe on the instrument tray to his left. "One of the doctors will let you know if anything concerning shows up in your test results. I have everything I need."

"Thanks Doc." Oliver said as he jumped off the biobed. "Promise me you'll keep out of Tribble."


[OFF]

Lieutenant Andreus Kohl, NP
Assistant Chief Science Officer
USS Galileo

PO Oliver Morris
Chief Yeoman
USS Galileo

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