paradisalost | (no subject)

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allen walker

(no subject)

[Private]

There's no records at all of Timothy or...even the orphanage. It's as though they never existed.

I suppose it was too much to hope for, but...at least I tried.

[a pause]

I hope Father Abel is all right.

[Christmas Filter]

Ah, thank you very much for the gifts! I'm very grateful for all of them!

[/Filter]

[Allen is sitting outside a cafe, about a block away from the hospital he's been volunteering at, enjoying his lunch break with...well, many plates of food. There's a cell phone (that is strangely gold in color..) sitting on the table, in case he receives any calls to head back. Mostly he just seems to be enjoying himself. ]

I wonder how long this world change will last...

[OOC: Open!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Because sound effects are indispensable teaching tools. Also they get hilarious reactions.]

Close. It's due to inspiration. Inspiration here meaning inhalation, not something that stimulates you to put in effort. When you inhale, it creates a difference in pressure. I would explain this in greater detail, but I figure your crippled brain needs to take it slow. Like your sex life apparently.

[Yes. He went there. And he continues without giving Allen a chance to respond.]

Blood flow into the lungs is affected so the pulmonic valve closes a little after the aortic. If you hear it on every beat or the gap between the two sounds is wide, that's a problem. Otherwise it's completely normal. Now move your stethoscope down in a straight line until you can't hear anything. And then keep on going down until you do.

[Moving on to the mitral valve and S3 heart sound. You better be paying attention because he is not repeating this lesson.]

-- My brain is not crippled! [And he is DEFINITELY not talking about his sex life with you ever.]

What's the problem if that happens? [But he'll follow the instructions and move the stethoscope down]

[It's not like he'd then post all your secrets in the journal...! No, he'd do that. Just don't share. Never share. Don't do that to yourself.

His tone is almost bored as he recites the conditions mechanically. At least the crazy, unethical doctor knows his stuff?]

A fixed splitting points to a septal defect, holes in the walls of the heart separating the four inner chambers. Can be atrial or ventricular. Abnormally wide splitting can result from stenosis, the narrowing of openings, like say a pulmonary valve stenosis. The thinner the neck, the longer it takes to empty the bottle, longer it takes to put a lid back on. It can also result from delayed depolarization like in left or right bundle branch block. Bottle metaphor again. If it takes too long to flip it over and pour everything out, it'll take longer to put a lid on it.

[A beat.]

Bottle's no good. The contents need to be under pressure. Picture a fire hose. [You might want to interrupt or you'll get stuck with another metaphor.]

[House you're the textbook example of why employees should do wtfever they can to keep their private life private. And he'll interrupt because he's getting where he's going]

-- If there's not enough pressure, the fire hose won't work properly and the building will burn. But if there's too much pressure, the hose will burst. [Not...a pretty picture for a heart]

[The longest pause ever.]

No. And don't ever try to use a metaphor again.

[WHAT? IT WAS A GUESS OKAY; He sighs]

Fine by me. [Metaphors are stupid anyway!!!]

I found the pulse. Which one is this?

[USE OF METAPHOR IS AN ART AND YOU BUTCHERED IT. Also you totally didn't understand anything he was talking about, nice to know.]

No, you found the tricuspid valve. Your other hand better not be off French Coma Guy's pulse. [Craning his neck to see what's going on at French Coma Guy's other side.]

[Sorry art wasn't covered in my education of making sure I don't die. And his hand is still on the pulse!]

It's not. So this is S1?

The first and louder one in this case. You should still hear two sounds. Unless his aortic and pulmonic decided to take the day off in the twenty seconds since you stopped listening to them.

[Listening closely, oh hey there's that familiar beat] No, I hear them still.

Now open your shirt and find your tricuspid valve. Tell me if the beat is the same.

[Staaare...]

What?

Aww. Are you shy?

Tt...

[Shy and weirded out by this yes. But he'll pull away from french coma guy and turn to an angle to attempt to make it hard for House to see any of the chest scars as he unbuttons his shirt]

[This is House. Leaning back in his chair. Trolling. ~~Never mentioning the reflective surfaces that are just about everywhere in the room~~]

Wow.

[Yep that twitching of his face just MIGHT be from incredible amounts of annoyance. He's searching for that spot quickly on him so he can get this over with]

[Best part? House hasn't seen anything yet. He's just presuming there's something terrible from the need to hide.]

You would make a plastic surgeon so happy.

[He's just going to keep trolling until a) it gets boring or b) they stroll back into the subject of sounds (http://www.wilkes.med.ucla.edu/S3main.htm). Hint: a) is unlikely to happen any time soon.]

[The sad thing about Allen is I'm sure, deep down inside, there's some rational part that realizes he should not feed the trolls and just ignore the guy. But alas, that small rational part never gets heard because the irritated part of him has no trouble with yelling over it.]

And what is that supposed to mean?

[Of course in his little snapping outburst, he turned towards House to glare and completely failed to do his original goal of hiding his chest whoops!]

...Did someone shove you into a blender and press purée?

[-- ah crap, not as planned]

What?! No!

Okay.

Did you try to save a little old lady from a truck with your chest?

No.

They're simply old battle wounds, that's all. [working on using that stethoscope now in attempts to ignore!!!]

Were you playing with a grenade?

I'm not even familiar with what those are.

I'd tell you to Google it, but I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself. [A pause before he adds] More.