Spring 7th, 519av, 13 Bells
Ugh. Gemma was sick. She had definitely overdone it with both work and her own schedule, and now she was struggling just to move at a normal pace. It had started out as a cold but had developed into full-blown pneumonia. She basically had to stay in bed for seven days, and then she would be limited in the work she was able to do for the next thirty days. This did not work into her plans at all. What was she supposed to do while she waited? Her gnosis mark was not strong enough to heal herself, and in any case she had already decided not to self medicate anymore, at least not habitually.
So here she was, barely able to work, barely able to walk, and completely unable to have any fun. She had to wear a mask to attend patients, and even then she was limited by both her pneumonia and her shoulder, which she had been told would take at least forty days to heal, but more if she didn't rest. She hadn't been resting enough, so now it was more likely to take even longer. She looked at a calendar she had drawn in her notebook and saw that she was likely to still have shoulder problems until just the end of Spring. This was ridiculous. How was she supposed to keep improving at all the things she wanted to do? The only thing she could still do normally was to pray, and even then she had to take care of her breathing to not run out of breath.
Gemma was frustrated. She had had all these plans for the New Year. So many goals, so many ideas, so many things to work on. She had carefully designed her schedule to maximize her time both at work and in school. And now… The doctor had become the patient. And for what? It had all just been a freak accident. She couldn’t understand it. And now she was suffering for no reason. She couldn’t help but feel resentful about the whole ordeal as she coughed again. She was on a break and had to just lay down and catch her breath rather than hopping off to mix herbs or play with philtering. She felt like a cripple.
Gemma had never realized how dependent she was on her body. She had always considered herself to be more of a mind person, since she studied so much. But now she saw that all her studies were active and practical, involving some kind of physical activity to execute.
And then, it happened. There was a knock on the Catholicon room door and in walked… Izo.
Gemma tried to sit up. Her heart raced and she tried to gasp, but it only caused a deep throaty cough that shot pain through her shoulder.
“Don’t try to get up.” Izo said. “It’s fine, I’m here in an official capacity,” he said. I do still work here, you know.” He smiled, but it was a doctor’s smile, one she herself had used hundreds of time. Her heart sank. Not only was he going to see her weakened and infirmed. He was going to treat her. This was so much worse.
So here she was, barely able to work, barely able to walk, and completely unable to have any fun. She had to wear a mask to attend patients, and even then she was limited by both her pneumonia and her shoulder, which she had been told would take at least forty days to heal, but more if she didn't rest. She hadn't been resting enough, so now it was more likely to take even longer. She looked at a calendar she had drawn in her notebook and saw that she was likely to still have shoulder problems until just the end of Spring. This was ridiculous. How was she supposed to keep improving at all the things she wanted to do? The only thing she could still do normally was to pray, and even then she had to take care of her breathing to not run out of breath.
Gemma was frustrated. She had had all these plans for the New Year. So many goals, so many ideas, so many things to work on. She had carefully designed her schedule to maximize her time both at work and in school. And now… The doctor had become the patient. And for what? It had all just been a freak accident. She couldn’t understand it. And now she was suffering for no reason. She couldn’t help but feel resentful about the whole ordeal as she coughed again. She was on a break and had to just lay down and catch her breath rather than hopping off to mix herbs or play with philtering. She felt like a cripple.
Gemma had never realized how dependent she was on her body. She had always considered herself to be more of a mind person, since she studied so much. But now she saw that all her studies were active and practical, involving some kind of physical activity to execute.
And then, it happened. There was a knock on the Catholicon room door and in walked… Izo.
Gemma tried to sit up. Her heart raced and she tried to gasp, but it only caused a deep throaty cough that shot pain through her shoulder.
“Don’t try to get up.” Izo said. “It’s fine, I’m here in an official capacity,” he said. I do still work here, you know.” He smiled, but it was a doctor’s smile, one she herself had used hundreds of time. Her heart sank. Not only was he going to see her weakened and infirmed. He was going to treat her. This was so much worse.