Diagnoses

                            By:

                         Fox Cutter

11/09/96:

"Strange." Dr. Holderman said, as he leaned over a
microscope, taking a closer look at a blood sample from my
hand.

Oriana shifted a bit in the seat next to mine. "What is it?
Did you find some kind of infection in the blood?"

The doctor looked over at her, give a playful little smile.
"That would be more in the line of what I expected, but not
this."

"Care to say what it is?" I asked.

He shrugged, shutting the light on the microscope off.
"Blood, just normal blood. No traces of any kind of
infection or fungus that would cause something like this in
anyways. Let alone being stimulated by the fold."

Oria sighed. "So, a dead end?"

"Not entirely. I've sent some of the blood off to be
analyzed for a new form of infection. It might just be
something we haven't seen before."

I leaned forward a bit, the doctor had left a very large
'or' hanging in the air. "What else?"

The doctor (who was human) sighed on his own. "I would
almost say the fold it's self is causing this, but it's not
in the right pattern."

I gave him a quizzical look.

He adjusted his glasses, and continued his explanation.
"Some times, if a fold has gone of kilter, it can cause some
effects on people who use them for a long term. One of them
is the semi-spontaneous bleeding of the extermities, but
you've told me before that it's only your hands, which is
not uncommon in this type of situation. Now if it was both
of your hands, then I would worry, but with just one." He
shrugged.

I raised an eyebrow. "I assume there is a file on me?"

He nodded. "Read over it before you showed up, why?"

I raised my left hand, "I assume it said that this was a
prosthetic?"

He nodded again. "Yes, but I don't see what that has to do
with anything."

"Well, if it bled, how would I know? The fluids that it
would bleed evaporate on contact with air."

The doctor chuckled. "Don't be silly, if it did bleed, it
would be normal blood from the synthetic skin."

I shrugged. "Ok, I guess we'll find out what we will when
you get your results back."

"Should be a few days." He said, picking up a padd, and
flipping though it.

I started to stand, when the doctor spoke up again. "Wait. I
just though of something."

I sank back down in my chair. "What?"

"Take the hand off." He stated.

I grimaced. "That's not exactly pleasant to do."

"Humor me."

"Well then, you had better get me the clamps." I grumbled.
In an instant bad mood. I didn't like to remove the
prosthetic, partly because it was _damn_ painful, but mostly
because I didn't like to look at the base for it, that was
semi-melded with my skin. It was an ugly sight, and for one
didn't like looking at it.

The doctor came back from a cabinet in the back of room. In
his hand where the set of clamps I needed. They weren't
wrapped or anything, as I assumed they where sterilized
before they got to me.

I took them from his hand, and set them in my lap, as rolled
up my sleeves. Each clamp was more of a thick wire, the kind
that wire-hangers where made out of. It was bent into a
small U shape, about two inches wide, and three long. At the
top of the U where two prong pointing inwards, maybe a forth
of an inch long, and they where sharpened to a fine point.

Balling up my left hand into a tight fist, I picked up one
of the clamps, and set it on my wrist, just under my hand.
Each prong was resting on the outside of my wrist, poking at
the skin.

Gulping, not liking doing this, I squeezed the sides closed,
forcing the prongs into my wrist, until they where as deep
as they could go. Next to me, I heard Oriana gasp a bit.
Something I'm sure I would do to, if I wasn't doing it to
myself!

Clenching my first tighter from the pain, I took the second
clamp, and repeated the same procedure, but this time
forcing the prongs into the inside, and outside, of my
wrist.

I glanced at the doctor, shaking a bit. "Are you totally
sure you want me to do this?" I knew it was a silly
question, but I _had_ to ask.

He nodded.

I grimaced, and closed my eyes tight. "Feel free not to
look." I said to Oria.

Wrapping my fingers around the clamps, I held onto it as
hard as I could. Then with as much force as I could muster,
I pulled down on them. They turning along with my hand,
there was a second of excruciating pain, then a loud snap as
the prosthetic disconnect from my arm.

Keeping a grip in the clamps, I lowered the prosthetic away
from my arm, so the doctor could get a look at it.

"That was what I suspect." I heard the doctor say.

Opening my eyes, I looked at him, then slowly down at the
end of my arm. At the stump there, along with the pale
melding of flesh and mettle that look right out of a horror
movie, there was something a lot worse.

Blood, dried blood.

I gacked a bit, and looking away brushed the stump of my arm
off on my pants, trying to clean it some.

The doctor shook his head. Then taking a damp towel he had
gotten somewhere. He bent down, and quickly gave it a once
over. He then took the prosthetic from me, and did the same
with it.

I just stared up at the ceiling.

"What exactly does the mean then?" Oria asked, her voice
actually sounding pail.

"To be blunt," he said, shoving the prosthetic back into my
hand. "This isn't medical, it's the fold you are using."

I rolled my head forward, and looked at him. "I see, I
think. The prosthetic wouldn't bleed, as it's not physically
part of me. So if it bleed, it would be at the stump."

He nodded.

I sighed, giving the prosthetic a twist and reattached to my
arm. The pain instantly came back, but ten-fold of what it
was before.

"My suggestion," the doctor said, "talk to someone with more
technical experience. This is way out of my field of
expertise."

I nodded, pulling out the clamps, and throwing them on the
counter next to me. The doctor held out a few bandages,
which I put over the holes from the clamps, which where now
bleeding.

My arm it's self looked intact again, and I slowly rolled my
fingers into a fist to make sure everything was working ok.
The only really change, outside of the bleeding, was a dark
red line around my wrist, where my skin meet the synthetic
skin of my hand. It would fade after a few days, as they
knitted together, leaving only a faint scar.

I stood up, pushing down my sleeves. "Thanks for your help."

The doctor nodded. "I have the feeling that I didn't help
much at all."

I nodded myself. Then headed out of the examination room,
through a short hall, and into the hallway.

"That was disgusting." Oria whisper, as we worked are way
home. She was still very pale in her ears."

"I agree." I said, also in a whisper

"So, now what do we do?" She asked.

"Only thing we can, we call in the brothers." I paused for a
second. "Then we shall see what we shall see."