The Doctor

Since moving to Chicago, Bastian had alternated between going to the local VA hospital and a public institution for his medical care. As a veteran, he felt comfortable enough dealing with military doctors, especially when it came to his leg, but sometimes he didn't feel like spending all day sitting in a waiting room rehashing his days as a Marine with boys young enough to be his sons. So over he'd trundle to the nearest hospital, parking his truck in the pay lot before taking the elevator downstairs to the big reception area.

The Cajun was sitting in a molded plastic chair reading an outdated issue of Time magazine, picking the order forms out of his lap as they fell out from between the pages. Just a routine checkup for the most part, although he expected to hear more about the bits of metal in his calf. He fully intended to have the shrapnel removed, just not until after the boxing tournament. If he stood a chance of losing some mobility in the limb, he wanted to make the most of the full capacity of it while he could.

"Mr. Sonnier?" Bastian looked up over the edge of the magazine, glancing towards the receptionist. "Dr. Reed will see you now. You can just go on back." The big carpenter got up from the chair, leaving Time behind. He hitched his pants on the way past the desk, his wallet chain jingling as he walked. He wasn't really wild about hospitals, but this was a necessary thing.

"And remember just because the cast on your arm is solid that doesn't mean your head is," Alec muttered to the patient he was finishing up with. The kid was only 15 and big into skateboarding, but Alec figured it didn't hurt to say considering the skate-fanatic had already been in three times this week to have his cast fixed. He ushered the teenager out and turned his eyes to the man approaching.

( Consultation )