Owen Brockert
August 29, 2015 9:48 PM
Giving the medic something to do. by Owen Brockert
It was the day of the Teppalus-Pecari game and before Owen even opened his eyes, he knew he wouldn't be able to go support his classmates. For one thing, it was supposed to be really really cold, and that was not good for his asthma. For another, he already couldn't breathe very well.It looked like it was going to be a bad day. The kind Owen tried not to think about when it wasn't happening. The kind he wouldn't be able to stop thinking about was when it was. Plus, well, what if Andrew was annoyed at him for not being able to get out there and support them? He'd always seemed to understand before but Owen couldn't help but think back to that message that had been scrawled on the cork board when they'd come back from vacation and even if it wasn't meant for him, he'd gone even further out of his way than he did naturally to be extra kind to his housemates. He certainly didn't want to alienate the ones playing today.
Truthfully, Andrew was the one he had to worry about least if he thought about it, since he and Jemima were the two who knew about Owen's medical issues. But what if Tobi or Ginger thought he was being unsupportive?Tobi had been so nice to him when he'd been nervous at his first Opening Feast and it was important to be on good terms with Ginger because she and Jemima were close.
Still, just the thought of going outside in the cold-and in fact just the part where he had to walk there-made his chest tighten up and he began to cough. Owen reached for his inhaler and took a few puffs, hoping that would tide him over. Maybe if he were lucky, this would be one of those days where he couldn't get up, but he could at least write. Truth be told, he did honestly enjoy that more than Quidditch games anyway or really, pretty much anything.
And when he was sick, and couldn't even write or anything, he felt totally useless. The Teppenpaw knew that everyone got sick at some point, but having a long term medical condition made it happen for him more often and he hated it. If Owen didn't have this problem, who knew how much he could have got written since he was normally capable of writing for hours at a time? He knew he wasn't able to manage it right at this moment. Maybe he'd feel a little better later.
Unfortunately, as time wore on, Owen realized this was not going to happen. In fact, he was feeling worse . Bad enough that he most likely needed the medic, an idea the second year was not terribly keen on. Never mind that needing medical attention made him feel weak and pathetic and the fact that walking there would make matters worse, Medic Eir scared him just a little.
Still, he struggled to get out of bed and slowly made his way to the hospital wing, having to stop several times to use his inhaler and catch his breath. When he finally reached his destination, Owen couldn't help but collapse onto one of the beds, in the throws of a full blown asthma attack. He knew he shouldn't have moved from his bed, that he should have gotten Mr. Xavier or sent a note to the medic to see him in Teppenpaw, but he didn't know if anyone was around or if they were all at the game.
In fact, what if Medic Eir was there in case of Quidditch injuries? Owen gripped his inhaler tightly to him and puffed as he waited for the medic to arrive.
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Owen Brockert
Giving the medic something to do.
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Medic Eir
September 21, 2015 8:04 PM
Finally Something of Interest by Medic Eir
When Edda entered the Medical Wing something was off. The air was disturbed; Edda was disturbed. There must be a child about. Walking briskly over to the waiting area, Edda walked in to find Owen Brockert.“Owen Brockert” she said, with blatant annoyance. Not only was she in a terrible mood but Owen's condition wasn't challenging enough to take her mind off it and the boy himself was an absolute bore. At least the other Brockerts had some redeemable features. Owen, though, Owen was all around. . . nice. She shuddered. Looking at the boy, though, she realized his coloring was extremely off. Maybe this would be more of a challenge.
The exasperation gone, she told him to wait there. She returned quickly with a pad of paper and quill for Owen and held the bottle of ink for him. She asked Owen about his most recent episode, telling him to write instead of talk. She didn't feel bad for him, but as a medical professional didn't want to risk worsening his current state by making him exert himself.
Owen had been her least interesting patient, and patients right now seemed less interesting than whatever it was writing secrets through the academy. She didn't really want that to change. Despite not having found anything conclusive on her trips with Xavier through the gardens she preferred that to looking over little, smiley Owen. She didn't want to take an interest in him, the weakling. Despite her prejudices, though, she was starting to. What had brought this on?
OOC: I'm so sorry for replying so late, life caught up with me. As always, sorry for Edda, too.
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Medic Eir
Finally Something of Interest
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