Work Text:
617-555-3253: White male, forties, respiratory difficulties
Can't form coherent sentences
Bellamy blinks at the words on his phone display, trying to put them together. It's clearly a wrong number, but he can't even begin to figure out what they were trying to say or who they'd be trying to say it to.
He comes up with nothing, but the other person is typing again, and whatever they're saying isn't his business.
Me: Filipino male, 29, no current medical issues
Mostly coherent
I think you have the wrong number
617-555-3253: Shit
My attending must have given me the wrong number
Sorry about that
Me: No problem
Good luck with whatever's happening with the middle-aged white guy
617-555-3253: Thanks
Good luck with whatever you do
Me: Grading right now
So the distraction was nice
617-555-3253: Glad I could help
He glances at the phone a few more times, but nothing more comes, and he can't say he's really surprised.
Like he said, the distraction was nice. But it's not going to happen again.
*
617-555-3253: Hi Dr. Bryne we have a female patient with external iliac occlusion
Left foot has been cold and numb for three days
Shit
Seriously??
Bellamy has to smile, even as he's plugging the symptoms into google, just out of curiosity. Growing up as a poor kid with no health insurance and a mother with chronic illness, he got pretty good at sorting good internet medical advice from bad. And if he's going to keep getting asked, he might as well try to have some answers.
Me: No offense, but I think your attending might not like you
Confused: I know she doesn't like me
But I'm starting to think she doesn't actually know her own phone number
This is such a stupid way to fuck with me
Me: Yeah
I'd recommend a stent in her left radial artery
Confused: Based on what?
Me: Quick google search
Confused: Thanks for the tip
Sorry to bother you
Again
Me: Still a fun break from grading
Good luck finding your attending
Once again, he figures that's the end of it, but the contact now stored in his phone as "Medical Student, Confused" is apparently more interested in talking to him now that they've talked twice. Apparently, they've developed a rapport.
He's getting drinks with Miller when the next text comes, a couple hours later: You were right.
"Who's that?" asks Miller.
"Med student whose attending hates them."
"You get that doesn't actually explain anything, right?"
Me: About the stent?
"I've been getting weird texts about medical issues because their attending gave them the wrong number."
Miller snorts. "How did that happen more than once? Did you not tell them it was the wrong number?"
"Their attending apparently likes my number more than their own."
Confused: Yeah
It took everyone here about three hours to reach that conclusion
So good job you and google
Me: No offense, but aren't you a med student?
Shouldn't this be something you're learning?
Confused: I'm on rotations
My specialty is OB-GYN
I'm in the ambulatory clinic right now
Me: That would do it
Glad Web MD really is better than actual medical care
Confused: But Web MD can't give you the stent
Me: That's what wiki-how is for
"Are you actually making friends?" Miller asks. Bellamy's not sure if he's impressed or vaguely horrified.
"What was I supposed to do, ignore them? I needed to tell them they had the wrong number."
Miller shakes his head. "I'm just saying, if the conversation keeps going past the first wrong number, something weird is happening."
"Maybe I'm just not an anti-social asshole."
"I know that's not true."
Confused: I just checked wikihow and I didn't find anything on giving yourself a stent
Advantage: doctors
Me: Are you, as an OB-GYN, able to perform that surgery better on me better than I can perform it on myself?
Confused: Only one way to find out
Bellamy smiles at Miller. "They're fun to talk to. I can be friendly for once."
"For once," he says. "Still weird."
"Yeah," Bellamy grants. "But it's not like it's going to keep happening."
*
Confused: Black woman, twenties, blurry vision
Me: Doesn't this violate some kind of law?
HIPAA?
That's the doctor law, right?
Confused: I'm not giving you any information you could use to ID the patients
Me: What if I know a black woman in her twenties with blurry vision?
Confused: I assume you already would have googled her symptoms for her
Me: Migraine
Confused: Yeah, that one was kind of a freebie
Me: Is there a reason you're asking?
Confused: I wanted to see what you'd say
Also, I don't really like most of my cohort
Or my attending
Is it sad that you're the only person I really have to talk to about this stuff?
Me: Incredibly
You know you can just talk
You don't have to give me patient information
Confused: One of the other students said it was probably cancer
Just because he thought "women always underdiagnose"
Me: Jesus
And?
Confused: It's a migraine
Me: I hope you rubbed it in his face
Confused: He said it was better to tell someone they have cancer and it turns out to be a migraine than they have a migraine and it turns out to be cancer
Then he said I'm a gyno so it doesn't matter anyway
Me: So the jury's going to be on your side in the trial
Confused: Pretty much
Me: I'm trying to ask this in the nicest possible way
Do you have other friends who can sympathize here?
I don't mind
Just curious
Confused: You know how sometimes you send five texts hoping someone will respond and you just vent to the first person who answers back?
Congratulations, you won
And, again, no one else is actually interested in the technicalities of what's happening
So it's all you
Me: Awesome
I don't even know where your hospital is
Confused: Boston
I don't know anything about you
Well
Biracial male, 29, no current medical issues
Does a lot of grading
Me: I teach at BPS, yeah
My name's Bellamy
Confused: Clarke
What do you teach?
Me: AP US History
Clarke: Do you like it?
Aside from grading
Me: I do
Do you like med school aside from the assholes?
Clarke: I do
I'm pretty sure there are assholes everywhere
Me: Definitely true
Feel free to vent at me about them any time
Clarke: Thanks, Bellamy
In return, you can vent at me about AP US History
Me: Deal
*
Me: How many lessons do you think I'm allowed to spend on Hamilton?
Part of Bellamy knows that it's a little weird to still be talking to Clarke. It's been a few weeks, she's moved on from her ambulatory rotation to psych, and there's no reason for them to not be done. She still tells him about patients sometimes, but without any demographic information, just interesting symptoms, and he sends her particularly ridiculous sentences from student essays. She complains about her asshole classmate and how much he sucks with mental health stuff, and Bellamy in turn complains about the vice principal, who cares about catering to demanding parents and being popular with the students, and is happy to throw teachers under the bus at basically the drop of a hat.
It's not that he doesn't have other friends, it's that Clarke feels strangely unbiased. Which is bullshit, honestly, because all she knows about him is what he's told her, which means that she's incredibly biased. She has no context except what he's given her.
But she has no reason to care except what he's given her, and that feels important. She likes him and cares about his life based entirely on random texts, and it wasn't like he was trying to make a good impression. Even without his putting any effort in, Clarke is invested. Clarke is his friend.
Miller says he's got a crush, and he's not thinking about that. He doesn't know a single thing about her; obviously he can't have a crush.
Clarke: Define allowed
Who's stopping you?
Me: My desire for my students to do well on APs
There's a long pause, which is another reason he likes talking to Clarke. Even if she is biased, she's smart and always takes her time to think things over. Clarke's not the kind of person who just throws out an easy answer.
He is pretty curious about her, if he's honest.
Clarke: Compromise
Just one or two classes before APs
And then you can come back to it after the test
Me: Yeah, I left it until after last year
And the students all said they wished we'd just done it sooner
Clarke: I'm surprised you didn't play it for them the first day
To get them excited about learning
Me: I did that the year after it came out
My students just thought I was a giant dork
So now I try to wait on it
Clarke: So, what I'm hearing is you've spent years trying to figure out the exact right way to integrate Hamilton into your lessons
Me: It's important, okay?
Clarke: I wasn't saying it wasn't important
Just
Really not surprising, now that I'm thinking about it
It's cute
Me: Oh good
So, what are you up to tonight?
Clarke: Got stood up for a date
Me: Wait, what?
Seriously?
Clarke: She texted while I was on the train
Said her ex-girlfriend called and they were giving it another shot
So I'm getting drunk alone
Me: Where are you?
The question is sent before he's really thought it through, and while he doesn't exactly regret it once it's done, it feels like a line crossed. Either Clarke is going to tell him, because she wants him to know where she is, or she won't, and then he'll know that she doesn't want to share that information with him.
It's not something he was really entirely prepared for, regardless of the outcome.
Clarke: Why?
Me: Because if you don't want to drink alone, you don't have to
Clarke: Davis
You want to join me?
Me: I'm actually pretty close to Davis
Can you resist getting too drunk in the next twenty minutes?
Clarke: I can get a booth and an appetizer
To soak up the booze
Me: Perfect
See you soon
*
It ends up being closer to half an hour, largely because he has to try on what feels like fourteen different outfits and fiddle with his hair and remind himself that he's got the beard on purpose, and people have told him it looks good.
Clarke might not even be interested. Just because she's bi doesn't mean she's looking, or that he's her type, or anything. This could just be a big old nothing, and if it is--
If it is, they'll still be friends. But he's hoping this is going to be more.
He's afraid that he'll have trouble identifying her once he does get to the restaurant, but it turns out to be a non-issue. There's only one young woman alone in a booth, trying to pretend she's not looking at the door every few minutes. And she's a pretty young woman, all nervous smile behind a shield of wavy blonde hair.
It's hard to guess from her expression what she thinks when he comes in, and she averts her eyes quickly, like she doesn't want to be caught looking at him.
She's as nervous as he is about this, and that makes it almost easy to sit down across from her.
"Hi, Clarke."
She does look up at that, and her smile already makes his heart stutter. "Hi, Bellamy."
"Sorry to keep you waiting."
"I didn't even know you were coming." She pushes a plate of mozzarella sticks his way. "Want some?"
"Yeah, thanks." He takes one and dips it in the sauce. "Please tell me this was a first date."
"Yeah. Bumble."
"I don't know what that means."
It feels like she must have smiled that same smile so many times, when he said things about being bad at technology aside from google. It's like he's putting the pieces of her together, and she's doing the same with him. "One of those dating apps."
"Oh."
"Yeah. She told me it was a pretty recent breakup, so I didn't really have very high expectations, but I didn't think she'd actually cancel on me like that."
"I'm sorry. That's beyond shitty."
Clarke worries her lip, which is unfair only until she says, "I'm not."
"No?"
"If I'd known all I had to do to buy you a drink was come to Davis, I would have been on the first train out here."
His own grim feels like it's going to take over his face. "You didn't have to come to Davis. I would have come to you."
"You can come to me next time."
"I'd like that," he says, and when he reaches over to take her hand, she flips it over for him.
Like everything else about her, it's even better than he thought it would be.
*
Me: Filipino male, 29, can't stop thinking about this girl he likes
Any ideas?
Clarke: Wow, he sounds like a giant dork
Or kind of an average-sized dork
Honestly, I thought you were going to be taller
Me: Does this mean you don't want to go out with me again?
Is that a deal-breaker
Clarke: I didn't say that
You just weren't how I expected
Me: Sorry?
Clarke: Don't be
I didn't expect you to be so great
So, to answer your first question, you should have dinner with her again tonight
Me: Cool
I was thinking the same thing
Clarke: Well, you're pretty good at this whole diagnosis thing
Me: Yeah
I'm doing great