Work Text:
PATIENT RECORD
Hospital: Sinaloa Emergencias y Grandes Accidentes (Las Rocas, Sinaloa, México)
Medical Scribe/Interpreter on Duty: Luisa López Mendoza
Record Available In: English, Español
Patient Name: Ivo Gerald Robotnik
Date of Birth: 19/05/1974
Sex: M
Height: 188 cm
Weight: 77 kg
Immunizations Current: Yes
Allergies: None
Prescriptions: None
Admission Date: 08/04/2024, 4:56 PM
Condition On Admission: Stable
Brought In By: Assistant (?)
Medical History: Blunt force contusion to orbital bone, circa 1982
Family History: None. Patient’s parents deceased from unknown causes circa 1974; no other known living relatives.
Next of Kin: None
Emergency Contact: Agent Stone, 1-800-555-0142, [email protected]
Billing Information: Supplemental Insurance Policy - Falling Off Of Giant Exploding Robots, Policy #64577742
Clinical Notes, 08/04/2024:
Admitted a new patient today. Conducted a primary assessment and obtained medical history from his coworker/friend/henchman/boyfriend (?) (relationship status unclear). Patient was mostly unconscious but occasionally awoke to call us “future minions of the Eggman Empire,” whatever that means.
Patient fell from a height of at least 100 m, possibly much more. Patient’s assistant refused to disclose the when, where, why, and how of the situation. Probably involved in criminal activity somewhere up in the States. Patient’s assistant has rudimentary first aid training and access to the patient’s technology, which he used to stabilize the patient for long enough to transport him to the hospital. Patient’s assistant also has a mild electric shock injury (pain scale rating = 1), but he insisted that we should focus on treating his boss.
Reviewed patient’s vitals. Pale skin color, low blood pressure, low body temperature, and altered state of consciousness present. Patient diagnosed with hypovolemic shock and hooked up to IV to treat blood loss. Bandages applied to lacerations and first-degree burns on arms, legs, and torso. Prescribed codeine, acetaminophen, epzidine, ventorphine, and secrelamide for pain. Ordered X-rays to assess skeletal injuries.
Patient returned to normal state of consciousness while waiting for the radiologist to finish with the X-rays. Immediately began yelling about “Sonic,” something called the “Master Emerald,” and his “superior intelligence.” Went ahead and ordered an MRI to assess for traumatic brain injury. Patient then complained of jaw pain (pain scale rating = 9.875) and (thankfully) stopped talking. Increased painkiller dosage.
Imaging results delivered to Tía Patricia Dr. Mendoza. Tía Patricia Dr. Mendoza also not-so-subtly encouraged me to write down more detailed medical information and fewer personal opinions. I not-so-subtly told her that if she wanted us to be a legitimate hospital, then she shouldn’t have gotten involved with the cartel.
Surprisingly, patient’s brain scan came back entirely normal. No spinal injuries present. No evidence of major internal hemorrhage.
Based on the X-ray results, Dr. Mendoza made the following diagnoses:
- Left fibula fracture
- Left femur compound fracture
- Fractured left metatarsals
- Right fibula fracture
- Sprained right ankle
- Right clavicle segmented fracture
- Right humerus fracture
- Left humerus fracture
- Sprained right wrist
- Three fractured ribs
- Two chipped teeth
- Mandible fracture
Patient’s assistant insists that the patient is in “magnificent” shape, despite…everything.
Treatment plan: Patient moved from ER to Med-Surg. Open reductions with internal limb fixations to correct clavicle and left leg fractures scheduled for tomorrow morning. Additional surgery to correct broken jaw as soon as the patient can tolerate it.
Clinical Notes, 09/04/2024:
Walked in on the patient and his assistant discussing their “world domination” plans this morning. Patient seems extremely loopy from the painkillers but still insisted that he could solve equations faster than anyone else in the room. Also overheard the patient’s assistant calling the patient “sir,” which I guess solves that mystery. Juana thinks that Agent Stone knows too much about the patient’s medical and financial information for them not to be in a relationship, but Juana also writes erotic fanfiction about the twins from La Última Pasión in her free time, so I don’t trust her judgment.
Patient exhibiting delusional behavior (pretending to be a robot). May not be in the right mental state to consent to surgery. Patient also finds it too difficult to write with a sprained wrist. Unclear if his assistant can sign the form on his behalf.
Patient’s assistant showed me something called the “Robotnik Manifesto,” which contained the following passage:
“In the extremely unlikely event of my medical incapacitation, take the Egg Mobile and bring me to Sinaloa Emergencias y Grandes Accidentes in Las Rocas, Mexico as expeditiously as possible. They’re quacks, but their equipment is sterile, and they won’t ask any pesky questions about all of my eeeeeeevil schemes. And to the dimwitted charlatans at Sinaloa Emergencias: compared to my wondrous self, my sycophantic servant is obviously a bootlicking, half-witted ignoramus, but compared to the legions of primitive, sport-cheering, social media-scrolling knuckle-draggers that make up the rest of the human race, Agent Stone is practically a genius. Whatever he says goes.”
Surgery was successful - inserted metal rods to realign bone fragments and promote proper healing, applied plaster casts to all skeletal fractures. Only complication: procedure took longer than expected, so the patient needed an additional blood transfusion. Patient’s assistant volunteered to donate (leading to a lot of questions about who let him into the OR), but he is unfortunately the wrong blood type.
Patient is very drowsy and experiencing some swelling but otherwise appears to be recovering well, or at least well enough to accuse the doctors of “encasing his supreme intellect in a plaster prison.” Still complains of jaw soreness despite painkillers (pain scale rating = 3.1415).
Treatment plan: Jaw surgery scheduled for tomorrow.
Clinical Notes, 10/04/2024:
Surgery was successful. Inserted metal plate into patient’s lower jaw and applied plaster cast. Patient is very fatigued after surgery. Fell asleep for about ten hours. Re-iterated post-op instructions (blenderized diet only, no caffeine until patient is off painkillers) to the patient’s assistant.
Patient’s assistant in low spirits after Surgery #2. Looked like a sad lost puppy. Offered depression screening, patient’s assistant declined. Said he “just couldn’t bear to lose Dr. Robotnik again.” Assured patient’s assistant that vertical deceleration victims who make it through their first 72 hours have a 99% chance of survival. Patient’s assistant informed me that it had not been 72 hours since the accident yet. Dr. Mendoza then walked by and not-so-subtly reminded me to take notes on the patient, not his assistant. Not-so-subtly reminded Dr. Mendoza that the patient is in a full-body cast and not doing anything interesting at the moment.
Patient’s assistant last seen spoonfeeding the patient as if he were a baby bird.
Treatment plan: Patient moved from Med-Surg to Rehab. Observation and monitoring for potential complications in a hospital setting until patient regains at least partial mobility and is off of all high-risk medications.
Clinical Notes, 11/04/2024:
Patient’s range of motion remains extremely limited. Jaw too stiff to speak, still able to breathe and swallow normally. Fractures seem to be healing - no bleeding or oozing, swelling is beginning to decrease. Patient’s assistant still seems distressed but is consoling himself by sitting by the patient’s bedside and knitting a pillow in the shape of the patient’s face.
Clinical Notes, 12/04/2024:
Two agents from something called “G.U.N.” came to the hospital today. Told us they were looking for Dr. Robotnik, something about a giant robot attack in Montana. I said that disclosing patient identities would be breaking doctor-patient confidentiality. Also, if G.U.N. didn’t find the patient, that’s on them. He has a very distinctive mustache.
Clinical Notes, 13/04/2024:
Patient still cannot speak or move independently, but prognosis for long-term recovery remains good. No change in symptoms. Spends most of his waking hours watching La Última Pasión with his assistant. Patient’s assistant also will not stop asking when the patient can drink caffeinated beverages. Reminded Stone that the patient is on five different painkillers and in a full-body cast.
Clinical Notes, 14/04/2024:
Patient’s assistant redecorated the patient’s room with copious amounts of flowers, get well soon cards, pictures of the patient, pictures of robots, and actual robots, as well as playing the patient's Crush 40 playlist over the hospital PA system at maximum volume. Caused a lot of chaos in the Med-Surg department. Hard to tell under the cast, but all of this seems to have put the patient in a pleasant mood.
Clinical Notes, 15/04/2024:
There is a small drone trimming the patient’s mustache. Patient’s assistant swears he had nothing to do with it. Drone is apparently being controlled by the patient himself, but we have no idea how he’s doing it.
Clinical Notes, 16/04/2024:
Ordered X-rays to assess healing progress. Jaw injury has stabilized much quicker than expected. Patient is beginning to eat some soft foods - his assistant fed him an entire carton of ice cream this morning, which he tolerated well. Lowered painkiller dosage, scheduled partial cast removal for tomorrow. Patient’s assistant seems extremely enthusiastic at the prospect of the patient’s recovery.
Clinical Notes, 17/04/2024:
Removed the “head” of the patient’s cast today. Patient immediately called the entire staff “imbeciles” and “quacks,” claimed to be the world’s greatest scientific genius, and then proceeded to inquire about emeralds, hedgehogs, echidnas, taking over the multiverse, and the whereabouts of his assistant. The assistant returned later with a caffeinated beverage (that the patient is still not allowed to have), but the patient had unsurprisingly tired himself out and fallen asleep by that point. Re-iterated the care instructions for the patient’s jaw injury (soft foods only, slowly return to normal diet, no caffeine until he is off painkillers) to the patient’s assistant.
Clinical Notes, 18/04/2024:
Patient will not stop ranting about how much he hates blue hedgehogs. Discussed the possible need for anti-psychotic medication with the patient’s assistant; however, the assistant assured us that the hedgehog-related temper tantrums are entirely consistent with the patient’s normal behavior.
Clinical Notes, 19/04/2024:
Patient attempted to escape from the hospital. Did not get very far because he still cannot move his arms or legs. Confiscated his drones, gave him a talking-to, and emphasized the importance of following doctor’s orders so that he can heal as quickly as possible. Also, patient speaks Spanish. Not quite fluently, but at a level that is way above average for a gringo. I told Juana to please stop calling the patient “Señor Bigote,” at least to his face. Patient says that’s “no way to treat a future world leader (singular).”
Clinical Notes, 20/04/2024:
No change in symptoms, but patient keeps demanding a “latte with steamed Austrian goat milk.” Assistant seemed happy to oblige, but nursing staff had to remind both of them once again that the patient is not allowed to have caffeinated beverages. Patient also keeps asking for his “control gloves” and threatening to replace our hard drives with Limp Bizkit’s Greatest Hits if he doesn’t get them. Really starting to regret removing his jaw cast.
Clinical Notes, 21/04/2024:
Patient snatched a spoon away from his assistant, having apparently regained some movement in his left elbow. Removed cast from the patient’s lower left arm, encouraged him to gently exercise the joint while also being careful not to over-exert himself. Patient does not seem to be experiencing pain from injuries (pain scale rating = 0.023), so lowered painkiller dosage. Patient also recommended switching from secrelamide to his personal formulation of augmendiol, diclovarix, and albumin. Asked Tía Patricia Dr. Mendoza about this; she told me to remind the patient that although he may have five PhDs, none of them are in medicine or pharmacology.
Clinical Notes, 22/04/2024:
Patient’s assistant asked how long it would take for the patient’s fractures to heal, told him about 10-12 weeks. Patient said something about needing his casts off sooner so he could “egg-xact his revenge on that spiny blue freak.” Suggested that the patient re-orient his recovery goals away from committing atrocities and towards resuming normal activities, like walking and chewing.
Clinical Notes, 23/04/2024:
Patient devised an extremely detailed, 36-page-long treatment plan for himself. Requested a stem cell transfusion as soon as possible to expedite recovery. Informed patient that stem cell therapy is not covered by his insurance. Patient used his “Badniks” to scan Dr. Mendoza’s payment receipts from the cartel and quickly draft an “anonymous tip” to the Las Rocas police. Patient asked if his stem cell transfusion was covered now?
Treatment plan: Patient moved back to Med-Surg. Stem cell transfusions to arms, legs, and chest scheduled for tomorrow. Patient’s secrelamide prescription also switched to augmendiol, diclovarix, and albumin, at the patient’s request.
Clinical Notes, 24/04/2024:
Stem cell transfusions successful. Injected stem cells into the patient’s skeletal fractures and then reapplied casts. Patient experiencing some inflammation but otherwise recovering well. Currently eating a coconut paleta and watching telenovelas. Patient’s disposition can best be described as “megalomaniacal,” but I think that’s just his regular personality.
Treatment plan: Patient moved back to Rehab to resume observation and monitoring.
Clinical Notes, 25/04/2024:
Patient is very inflamed. Looks like a giant red tomato in a cast. Patient vehemently denies that a genius such as himself could have made any sort of mistake in his prescription. Patient also denies any pain or discomfort (pain scale rating = -5), but that seems very hard to believe.
Clinical Notes, 26/04/2024:
Patient’s assistant replaced the flowers in the patient’s room, polished his drones, and hung up a picture of Gabriella from La Última Pasión by his bedside. Patient’s assistant explained that it was because Gabriella recovered from her amnesia in a single episode, so she might inspire Dr. Robotnik to do the same. Patient said that if Stone didn’t have the attention span of a goldfish, he would know that the amnesia plot actually took an episode and a half to resolve. Recommended that patient’s assistant rewatch the first half of Season 3.
Clinical Notes, 27/04/2024:
Patient ate a sandwich without assistance today. Instructed him to resume his normal diet but to continue avoiding crunchy foods, chewy foods, and caffeinated drinks. Patient then immediately ordered his drones to deliver him twenty-six extra large bean and cheese burritos from the taqueria next door. Patient is extremely lucky that this didn’t destroy his digestive system.
Clinical Notes, 28/04/2024:
Patient’s inflammation has mostly subsided. X-ray check-up scheduled for tomorrow. Discussed physical and occupational therapy options with the patient, who couldn’t be bothered to listen to us “amateurs” and mostly ignored the hospital staff in favor of eating tamales, watching novelas, and using his one good limb to gesticulate wildly at the TV screen.
Clinical Notes, 29/04/2024:
Based on the X-ray results, rib fractures healed nicely. Limbs still fractured but looking stable. Removed most of the patient’s full-body cast but kept both leg casts, the right arm and shoulder cast, and the upper left arm cast. Patient is fatigued from all of the movement but otherwise doing well. Currently watching La Última Pasión with his assistant. They finally got to my favorite episode (the one where Gabriella wins the lottery and then immediately faints). Patient thinks that Gabriella should invest her fortune more wisely, but his definition of “a wise investment” includes secret bases and 500-meter-tall robots.
Clinical Notes, 30/04/2024:
Occupational therapist gave the patient a wheelchair, taught him and his assistant how to use it, and then let Stone push the patient around the rehab department for a while. Patient seemed more irritated than usual and asked if the OT specialist had read Chapter 7 of “Vertical Deceleration Injury Rehabilitation for Dummies.” I think this is just what Robotnik’s calling the treatment plan he wrote for us.
Clinical Notes, 01/05/2024:
Patient upgraded his wheelchair to include a keypad, a scanner, a wirecutter, a shotgun, a catapult, a flamethrower, a rocket launcher, a laser cannon, and not one, not two, but three different waffle makers. Patient’s assistant is obviously impressed. Everyone else is extremely worried about the implications of having this many military-grade weapons in the rehab department, even if they’re only being used to make breakfast.
Clinical Notes, 02/05/2024:
Patient woke up in a murderous rage. Homicidal thoughts, hostile demeanor, just wants to cause a massacre. Offered the patient a lollipop, which surprisingly worked.
Clinical Notes, 03/05/2024:
Patient attempted to escape from the hospital during his physical therapy session. Insisted he was just leaving to get more chimichangas from the taqueria next door, despite not filling out the proper paperwork. Confiscated patient’s drones (again), although that didn’t seem to help last time. Patient’s assistant then brought the patient a plate full of chimichangas and then encouraged him to try some range of motion exercises while he was eating. Patient grabbed his assistant by the inside of his mouth (???) and then said that he didn’t need the range of motion exercises because he was “already surrounded by a very extensive range of morons.”
Clinical Notes, 04/05/2024:
Occupational therapy specialist asked about the patient’s interests and hobbies so that he can incorporate them into his therapy plan. Informed the OT specialist that the patient’s primary interests include machines, science, power, revenge, and himself. Really not sure how that is useful from a therapeutic perspective.
Clinical Notes, 05/05/2024:
Patient’s injuries are healing rapidly. Lowered painkiller dosage, took patient off of ventorphine altogether. Replaced the cast on the patient’s stronger leg with a removable brace and tried some partial weight bearing exercises during his PT session to prevent muscle atrophy. This seems to have fatigued the patient and put him in significant pain (pain scale rating = “are you fools trying to become guinea pigs for the Pushchair Phaser?!”). Told the patient to take it easy for the rest of the day.
Clinical Notes, 06/05/2024:
Juana is taking language lessons and wants to practice speaking English with the gringos. Told her to try talking to Agent Stone and to write down any words or phrases she didn’t understand. Juana came back with the following notes:
- “Genius”
- “Breathtaking”
- “Thanks for taking care of him”
- “Where’s my latte?!”
- “Oh great, it’s Nurse Nosyface, presumably followed by Scribe Can’t-Mind-Her-Own-Business. For the record, if you mindless drones are going to mock my superior facial hair, it’s Doctor Mustache. Or Doctor Bigote, Doutor Bigode, Docteur Moustache, Dottore Baffi, Kuchihige Hakase, Masharubu Ya Daktari, or Doktorschnurrbart. I’m not picky. Oh, Juanita, am I blathering on too fast for you to keep up with my oh-so-witty banter? Too bad, don’t care. Get out of my sight before my mechanical offspring turn you into carne asada. Or should I say…carne à Juana?”
Told Juana to just learn English by watching Grey’s Anatomy twenty-seven times in a row like a normal person.
Clinical Notes, 07/05/2024:
Patient engaging in normal behavior (complaining, eating junk food, watching La Última Pasión). PT went somewhat better. Patient only insulted his therapist’s intelligence once every five minutes or so. Patient and his assistant are becoming exasperated with the patient’s slow recovery and inability to drink caffeinated beverages. Patient asked when he’d be able to return to his nefarious schemes. Reminded the patient that it took him forty-five minutes to get out of bed this morning, so it’s not like he’s going to be destroying the hedgehog anytime soon.
Clinical Notes, 08/05/2024:
Patient put full weight on his right fibula during his PT session this afternoon. He still needs crutches and can only stand for a few minutes at a time, but still! Progress! Patient’s assistant brought over party hats and streamers to celebrate the patient being (sort of) able to walk again. Patient promptly used the party supplies as target practice for his drones.
Clinical Notes, 09/05/2024:
Patient is in an unexpectedly good mood today and extremely eager to return to his normal activities (plotting world domination). Patient attempted to dance around the room to his Obscure 1970s Canadian Jams playlist (key word: attempt), but when I walked in, he screamed like a little girl and then immediately fell on his face and re-injured several toes on his left foot. Ice pack applied to orbital bone, toes put into splints, and patient reminded of the value of rest, relaxation, and gradually working up to physically demanding activities (like dancing).
Clinical Notes, 10/05/2024:
Patient scheduled for balance exercises and occupational therapy today, but his assistant warned us that he had been in a weird mood since his fall yesterday. Visited patient anyways, only to find his room completely covered in crumpled pieces of paper, empty candy bar wrappers, and broken laptops. Apparently he spent most of the night frustratedly revising the Robotnik Manifesto, complaining that he misses his emerald, and generally worrying that his feeble body may no longer be able to keep up with his brilliant brain. PT went better than usual, but patient just seemed to be going through the motions.
Clinical Notes, 11/05/2024:
Patient refused to get out of bed this morning. Virtually no energy, motivation, or interest in much of anything other than his tub of edible cookie dough. Won’t even sit up to grab the TV remote. Patient says sitting up straight would be “too taxing for his genius brain.” Offered a depression screening, patient declined and told us to “just let him rot in peace.”
Clinical Notes, 12/05/2024:
Patient still refuses to do anything other than watch television and play video games. Has apparently been staring at the TV screen for the last eight hours, according to Stone. Patient’s hair is also getting quite long and obstructing his ability to properly see the screen. Offered a haircut; patient declined.
Clinical Notes, 13/05/2024:
Patient contemplating a career change from roboticist/mad scientist/wannabe global dictator to Twitch streamer. Patient’s assistant is not thrilled about the prospect of giving up on ruling the world and does not seem to fully understand what “Twitch” is, but he volunteered to create 70 alternative accounts to boost the patient’s subscriber count anyways.
Clinical Notes, 14/05/2024:
Speculated to Juana that the patient’s recent behavior (depressed mood, abrupt career change, apparent need to be hip with the kids) might support a diagnosis of “midlife crisis.” Juana said she would agree only if the patient suddenly got a much younger girlfriend or a very expensive car. Patient immediately proclaimed that he was building a giant robotic crab at the bottom of the ocean, which I think technically qualifies as an expensive car.
Clinical Notes, 15/05/2024:
Patient engaging in normal behavior (complaining, eating junk food, livestreaming on Twitch). Removed his left arm cast and lowered his painkiller dosage. After his check-up, patient immediately went back to streaming “Huevo Diablo’s Eggmanland-athon” (a regular playthrough of RollerCoaster Tycoon) for his “audience of loyal Eggheads” (Agent Stone’s 70 alternative accounts, all of which have been programmed to stroke Robotnik’s already-oversized ego as much as possible). Told Juana that at least the patient isn’t plotting murder and/or mass enslavement anymore. Dr. Mendoza then came in and not-so-subtly told Juana and I to stop messing around or she would fire us from our respective positions. Not-so-subtly reminded Tía Patricia Dr. Mendoza that she was the one who hired us in the first place.
Clinical Notes, 16/05/2024:
Patient dropped an entire plate of enchiladas on the floor during his physical therapy session today. Made his assistant clean it up. Patient then asked his assistant why he’s still here (to be fair, we were all wondering that too). Patient’s assistant just gave him a smitten smile and then said that the patient deserved to have someone looking out for him. Patient looked strangely vulnerable for a moment, and then he fake-gagged, called his assistant “sappier than a Hallmark Christmas movie starring Céline Dion and a baby panda,” and mumbled something about having to be treated for diabetes if he spent any more time talking to Stone.
Diagnosed patient’s assistant with “having bad taste in men.”
Clinical Notes, 17/05/2024:
Patient is responding well to gait training (when he agrees to participate), but he keeps talking about a “crab.” Not sure if it’s the robotic one from earlier. I offered to direct him to the nearest seafood market, but he just said that “the only thing deeper than the Mariana Trench is the disparity between our intellects.”
Clinical Notes, 18/05/2024:
Patient has gained almost 30 kg since his initial hospitalization due to overeating. Daily activities seem to mostly consist of watching La Última Pasión and yelling at his assistant to fetch him more burritos. Encouraged the patient to cut back on calories, eat more fruits and vegetables, and introduce some more gentle exercises into his daily routine. Patient declined.
Clinical Notes, 19/05/2024:
Patient’s birthday was today. Patient has been playing his Feliz Cumpleaños playlist over the hospital PA system all day. Insists that his birthday will be a public holiday (though not a day off from serving his machines) when he inevitably takes over the world. Patient’s assistant baked the patient a tray of cupcakes to celebrate; patient immediately threw one of them into his assistant’s face. Both Dr. Mendoza and the assistant were so thrilled that the patient’s left arm had recovered that they neglected to report the patient’s abusive behavior to the proper authorities.
Clinical Notes, 20/05/2024:
Ordered one last round of X-rays - all fractures look stable. Took patient off of codeine and epzidine. Patient given permission to drink caffeinated beverages again, at which point the patient's assistant immediately made him a latte with foam art of the two of them surrounded by little hearts. Patient complimented (!) the latte art, albeit a little aggressively. In completely unrelated news, I now owe Juana a hundred pesos.
Clinical Notes, 21/05/2024:
Took patient off of augmendiol, diclovarix, and albumin. Recommended low doses of ibuprofen and acetaminophen as needed. PT and OT specialists conducted one last session with the patient to help him prepare for discharge. Re-iterated care instructions to patient and his assistant and scheduled follow-up appointment to remove remaining casts in about six weeks. Patient is ready to be discharged tomorrow morning, which is great, because he’s really starting to get on everyone’s nerves.
Clinical Notes, 22/05/2024:
Patient disappeared in the middle of the night without filling out his discharge paperwork. Took all of his drones and equipment with him. Searched around the hospital but couldn’t find the patient. Patient’s assistant is extremely distraught. Believes that the patient has left him behind. Offered a depression screening, patient’s assistant declined and immediately left the hospital to find Dr. Robotnik.
Clinical Notes, 25/06/2024:
Patient’s assistant called today to ask what channel La Última Pasión is on. Hard to hear him over all of the rushing water in the background, but I answered his question and attempted to retrieve some follow-up information for our records. Patient’s assistant confirmed that he is currently with the patient, told us that the patient is doing well, and sent over the discharge paperwork, but he refused to provide further details or update his address or contact information. Judging by the fact that he said “good morning” when it was 5 PM in Sinaloa, he’s probably somewhere in east Asia.
Clinical Notes, 05/07/2024:
Patient did not attend his follow-up appointment. Called patient’s assistant to check in. Went straight to voicemail. Patient remains extremely active on Twitch, so pretty sure he’s still alive. Apparently figured out how to remove his casts on his own. Patient has not been following our diet and exercise recommendations but looks otherwise healthy. Attempted to contact patient via Twitch; immediately got blocked, reported, and doxxed.
Clinical Notes, 20/11/2024:
Called patient’s assistant one last time. Patient’s assistant actually picked up the phone this time. Told me that the patient had made a full recovery. Patient’s assistant finally convinced the patient to get a haircut and a new suit to accommodate his weight gain (apparently made from his assistant’s dress shirt??). Overheard a high-pitched voice in the background saying something about “the worst team-up ever” and “getting this over with quickly.” The patient then called whoever he was talking to a “dorkupine” and shoved him out of the way. A little concerned about the patient’s continued sociopathic behavior, but glad to hear that he is both physically recovering and getting some social interaction. Was going to congratulate Dr. Robotnik on his recovery and tell him to keep up the good work, but his assistant immediately hung up.
Based on this conversation, patient seems to be back to his normal activities (???). Still have a lot of questions, comments, and most definitely concerns, but Dr. Robotnik isn’t my patient anymore. Starting to think I should take his advice and mind my own business for once.
Patient Status Update: Discharged
Patient Condition Update: Vertical deceleration-related injuries treated as of 20/11/2024. Patient in excellent health. No further treatment indicated at this time.