Thread: Doctor-Patient Confidentiality [Risi/Flassche]

This is what you wanted. You have your dreams in the palm of your hand and you're going to throw them away? No, that is not an option. Do not accept no as an answer. Her head was a flurry of thoughts as she was briefed on her new assignment. New job, really , she thought as they continued. Isadora Mahone wasn't sure if she agreed with the ethics of this project, experiment. To think that as she was tucked away at home, having a childhood with parents and her sister, there was a baby being produced by the government, her government, to be a large fighting machine was unthinkable. But times were tough, and as a genetic biochemist this was essentially her job description. To be offered this sort of salary just out of her graduate classes was a dream come true. She was going to have to man-up and put her big girl pants on. Doctor Mahone? the guide asked, noticing her lack of attention to his tour of the facilities. She had needed the near highest government clearance to be allowed into the building, let alone the experimentation process. Next step up and she would have the President on speed dial. Yes, so sorry, she told him as a blush crept into her pale cheeks. Soon, they embarked on the tank room, where the subject was held. As he needed to be bigger in every way possible, muscles, heart, brain, he was still technically yet to be born. It wouldn't be much longer though as you could see though the thick, murky fluid that his embryonic gillial flaps were receding. Isadora stood at the front of the tank, watching the large man as if he was an exhibit at a museum. Better yet a animal in the zoo, she commented silently. Doctor Mahone? she was prompted again, but this time by her new boss, General O'Brien. Yes, sir, she said as she turned with a wide smile and her hand extending towards his. As they shook hands and spoke, some of her fears and apprehensions faded. She needed a hair cut, her bangs were getting in her way now. The shoulder-blade length blonde locks were beginning to get in her way, even if held in a bun or ponytail while at work. Her mouth twitched into a tight oval as she made note of another thing to do in her internal check list. With a glance down to her chart she began to walk from the tank room, but then the brain monitor began making a sharp high-pitched beeping. Shit, she mumbled under her breath as she radioed for help from the other assistants and doctors. There was a small huddle around the tank as they all looked on to the subject. He was beginning to move more rapidly now. It was too early though, he still had a week or more to go. He couldn't be like the first test subject, if he was lost the entire program was gone. Isadora added a sedation chemical to his placental-like IV just as he began to open his eyes. Her baby blues found contact with them just as they shut once again and ceased movement. The staff gave a collective sigh of relief and filtered back out of the tank room. This needs to go well, General O'Brien told her repeatedly, like she didn't already know, as they began to remove the subject from the large tank, by crane. Her lips were pursed into a hard line as she bit her tongue from the obvious Duh statement that begged to leave her lips. Once pulled from the fluid, he was placed on a large, custom made, stretcher and essentially swaddled in a blanket. Soon.. she told herself, Soon.