Episode 3 - Vet

Date: 562/1/2732

Patient: Lee Houndsworth. Human

Patient ID: 00347512

Presenting complaint: Abdominal pain 

Some patients are best treated in the vacuum of Space. _____________________________________________

Please consider supporting us on Patreon! The bonus story for this episode is called ‘Missing’ and is available here!

To avoid spoilers, content warnings are available at the bottom of this page!

_____________________________________________

Transcript:

[MUSIC: The Vesta Clinic Theme]

[SEC: questioning ping]

FAYE:

[Frustrated noise] If you don't know what a goat is, look it up on the feed. No - No - I can see what you're doing on the screen! Do not call Dr Adra, she already thinks I’m - 

[SEC: typing on screen]

- I am not! It's an Old Earth phrase!

That patient got my goat. He really, really, got my goat.

[SEC: typing on screen]

 If you're choosing not to use your thesaurus of the thousands of languages programmed into you then yes, Sec, we can just say that he was unpleasant. And I hope he has an unpleasant trip back to Earth.

That's what gets me! Why? Why come all the way out here, just to -

[SEC: typing on screen]

[SOUND: heavy footsteps]

No, my blood pressure is fine. You know they had to dock their entire ship just to bring him on board because he wouldn't travel in the shuttle with their doctor?

[SOUND: heavy footsteps, roar] 

They get it.

[SEC: typing on screen] 

I know. [Frustrated grunt] Let me just dictate this letter and then we can get on to seeing some patients who actually want to be here.

[SEC: affirmative  ping]

Date: 562/1/2732

Patient: Lee Houndsworth, human

Patient ID: 00347512

[MUSIC: begins]

 Normally I like to start my letters with a little intro about how lovely it was to meet my patient but I think I'll skip that this time. 

[SEC: typing on screen]

I  don't - ! I only lie about important things, actually.

[SEC: negative ping ]

I accepted Mr Houndsworth as an emergency crawl-in appointment at the request of Dr Somoros, the Chief Medical Officer on their ship. From the tone of the referral, I could tell that something had happened. I only became aware later that the patient had refused her medical care on the grounds that she was a 'filthy alien'.

If I'd been aware of that little tidbit of information, I would have been much less surprised when the first thing that came out of Mr Houndsworth's mouth was: 'Well, at least you’re human'. I - 

When the Solar Government was dividing up the vacuum of Space into neat little tessellating territories, it was agreed that the Asteroid Belt would be left as a free zone. 

[SEC: typing on screen]

 I know you know that, I’m making a point. 

There's that saying: someone can be an EVA life support half empty or half full kind of person. Well, I think a person can either think that the Asteroid Belt belongs to no-one, or it belongs to everyone. That's - that's the whole point of the Clinic. That's why we're here, orbiting Vesta, instead of sunning ourselves on Mars or Earth. Anyone can come to this Clinic and get help. And, from what I’ve seen, everyone does.

[Sigh] I guess that I've been trying not to think too much about what life on Earth was like - about people on Earth. I - I - uh, I guess his xenophobia was unexpected.

[SEC: typing on screen]

Yeah, sorry. I'll start properly now.

[SEC: affirmative ping]

Mr Houndsworth is a 74 Earth year old man who presented today with abdominal pain, vomiting and a six day history of being unable to open his bowels. Mr Houndsworth had previously been - in his words - tolerating an all-inclusive cruise on the luxury astroliner SS Prosper. He explained to me in great length that he had no intention of leaving his mine on Earth, but his grandchild was the Captain and persuaded him to holiday with them and the other grandchildren. During the course of his constipation, which includes no passage of flatus for the past 2 days, Mr Houndsworth has remarkably suffered no loss of appetite and snapped at me to hurry up with my assessment so that he didn't miss the free lunch back on the Prosper. Apparently the food has been much better since they replaced the non-human chef.

 The other holiday-makers and non-essential crew members were preparing to go into cryo for the return leg of the trip when Mr Houndsworth began vomiting and the, uh, crew were finally alerted to his condition.

Obviously, prolonged cryo was not gonna be an option for Mr Houndsworth. It's a common misconception that the cryo process freezes the traveller completely. Put him down to rest with an obstruction and after a decade or so he'd wake up with a perforated bowel and a raging peritonitis. If he woke up at all.

Mr Houndsworth was a difficult historian - you know what that's code for, right, Sec? 

[SEC: affirmative ping, typing on screen]

 [Laughs, shocked] Um, not sure who taught you that word?! Uh, but, yes. That.

Mr Houndsworth was a difficult historian and refused to give specific details about his pain or the contents of his vomitus other than 'all over' his abdomen and 'no, there wasn't any blood'. When I attempted to question him about his regular bowel habits and any change in  the recent months he pulled a face like a cat who's just had its tail stepped on.

[SEC: negative ping]

Um, Mr Houndsworth declined to comment on the frequency and consistency of his normal bowel motions. Is that allowed in the letter?

[SEC: affirmative ping]

Great. 

He reported no fever or rectal bleeding and a 7 pound weight gain since departing Earth. Reassuring features given that a common cause of bowel obstruction in a human his age is - 

[SEC: typing on screen]

That's right. A tumour.

I told Mr Houndsworth that I would need to examine him and he heaved himself onto the examination bench with a wince. I could tell before he even pulled down the zipper of his suit that the abdomen was distended. It had that hemi-spherical ballooning quality that betrays an underlying pathology rather than just the normal distribution of human fat. I felt sorry for him for half a second until he said:

'So, you failed your exams.'

'Excuse me?' I paused, somewhere between the backwards hedgehog and golf claps steps of my handwashing ritual.

'To get shipped out here? You can't have done well.'

'I  can assure you I'm fully qualified.' I told him.

[SEC: typing on screen]

Yeah, well! 'I graduated in the fifth decile and had to wait a year until they'd let me into postgrad interspecies specialisation training' doesn't have any kind of ring to it. I wasn't going to show this guy a sliver of weakness.

'Yes but you're not a doctor.' I drew my gaze away from the pale moon of his bulging stomach, which was free of scars or obvious sites of herniation - if you wanna sneak that in somewhere, Sec?

 [SEC: affirmative ping]

 -  to note the senile arcus ringing his blue irises with a halo of lipid-rich white.

'How's that?' I took the bait.

'Come on.' He goaded me like I was kidding no-one but myself. 'There's literally a star whale outside. With all these creatures that come scratching at your door, you're just a vet.'

I can report that the abdomen was tender throughout, even light palpation. There was some guarding in the left lower quadrant and I thought I might be able to feel a mass but he made a noise which, on reflection, was reminiscent of a star whale, and snatched at my wrist with the wiry sort of strength usually only found in delirious, elderly Caucasians. So, I thought it best to cease my assessment.

'That hurt!' He snarled. I knew he probably wasn't going to like what I was about to suggest. 

[SEC: negative ping]

 With Nurse Calyxy acting as a chaperone, I performed a digital rectal examination - that's . . . A finger where the starlight never reaches.

[SEC: typing on screen, questioning ping]

Yes, your reminder was exactly what I asked you to do, thank you . . . But I thought Nurse Calyxy was the best option for this particular patient. 

The examination revealed impacted stool in the rectum but, thankfully, no other masses and a smooth and enlarged prostate. But, you know, the man's 74, he's bound to have a prostate like a grapefruit at this age. I checked the glove afterwards and there was no -

[SEC: questioning ping, typing on screen]

What d’y - what do you mean? 

You think I should scan the glove? I put it in the bin. 

[SEC: typing on screen]

We know what's going on with him though, the guy's used to living off . . . Potatoes and rat meat and then he suddenly starts feasting like one of the Governors. He's just so blocked up that he's given himself a nasty bout of bowel inflammation. 

[SEC: negative ping]

The scans - 

[SEC: negative ping, negative ping, typing on screen, questioning ping]

Oh - Okay! Okay! Fine. If it's good enough for the Professor, then it's definitely good enough for me.

[SOUND: chair, footsteps, bin open, glove sounds, bin close, footsteps, scan buttons]

The scan I performed on Mr Houndsworth confirmed my clinical suspicions by revealing dilated and thickened bowel loops loaded with faeces. 

[SOUND: scanning]

There were no obvious masses, but, Sec?

[SEC: questioning ping]

Please send this letter to his doctor on Earth. He'd benefit from a screening check-up when he gets home.

[SOUND: scanner finished]

Oh, shit. 

[SEC: questioning ping]

Sec - 

[SEC: questioning ping]

Send an alert to the SS Prosper. Tell them -

[SOUND: door opening]

Tell them I'm going to run.

[SEC: questioning ping]

[SOUND: running, door closes]

[SEC: typing on screen, questioning ping, questioning ping, negative ping]

[MUSIC: Beeps from The Vesta Clinic Theme]  

[SOUND: door opens, running, door closes]

[Out of breath] Some luxury cruise that is. 

[SEC: typing on screen]

 Yeah, I'm fine. I’m just - 

[SEC: typing on screen]

[Out of breath] Airlock Theta. 

[Catches breath] 

[SOUND: Chair]

Okay - I'll explain.

Our working diagnosis for Mr Houndsworth was stercoral colitis - inflammation of his bowels, of his large bowel, secondary to the sheer amount of impacted stool he was unable to pass.

I had discharged him with a course of laxatives and strict instructions not to enter cryo until he'd opened his bowels normally for a few days. Normally, I'd just prescribe someone a course of faecosumers, but . . . Somehow I don't think he'd tolerate that.

[SEC: negative ping]

Um, why does this satellite seem so much bigger when you're trying to get somewhere fast? I set off way too quickly, skirting past the usually friendly but obviously concerned double-headed security sentinel with a cry of 'emergency!'. I was already lagging by the time I made it to the Indigo deck, sweating on my way through the Green quarter and absolutely dying by the time I careened into Airlock Theta.

They must have received your message, Sec, because both Dr Somoros and the Captain were waiting for me, floating patiently in the gravity-spared blankness of the airlock. They both presented a concerned calm, interested in what I had to say but ultimately unfazed. Dr Somoros in particular, she didn't seem fazed at all. 

[SEC: typing on screen]

She - 

W-well! I'm just saying. They both looked very competent. Sensible. Not the sort of crew you'd expect on a ship with the first human case of verminth parastica -

[SEC: questioning ping]

- since the widespread vaccination in 2690.

 [SEC: questioning ping]

The Captain floated close enough to shake my hand and I noticed that his eyes were the same milky blue as his grandfather's. They widened in disbelief when I informed them of Mr Houndsworth's diagnosis and I watched them look over to his Ship's Doctor as though she were going to step in and tell me that I'd made a mistake, that there was no way they needed to test every single occupant of the ship before putting them in cryo. Dr Somoros didn't so much as blink. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure that there are laws against letting a bunch of people rock back up to Earth with a category C parasite infecting their guts.

 [SEC: affirmative ping]

I'm so glad you got me to check that glove. 

[SEC: typing on screen]

No! I - I did give you credit! I did! Dr Somoros complimented me for thinking to double check the diagnosis and I said: Oh, you - you know, it wasn't me, the computer suggested it. 

[SEC: typing on screen, questioning ping]

She laughed, and all of her eyes narrowed with little amused crinkles. I'm very lucky to have him, I added, not really knowing what else to say -

[SEC: negative ping, typing on screen]

Oh, fine, don't believe me.

Do help me finish this letter, though. We're running 45 minutes behind now, and there's a pair of Troglodan out there who look ravenous.

[SEC: affirmative ping] 

So, Mr Houndsworth. Um.

Scanning the glove for human tissue and other lifeforms, toxic agents and bioware led to the identification of verminth parasitica infection in Mr Houndsworth's gut. Upon reviewing the scan performed for Mr Houndsworth, it is entirely possible that the matter I visualised in his bowel was, in fact, the mother worm alongside the faeces. I suspect that, with this level of obstruction, the initial infection occurred a few week cycles ago and has caused his bowels to fail. 

I have, uh, advised Mr Houndsworth to discontinue his laxative therapy. He will need a course of metrominthadazole to destroy the parasite and its ova.

[SEC: typing on screen]  

Infection with this parasite is virtually unheard of since the vaccination scheme started, but fortunately the SS Prosper is . . . Of an age and they still carry a small supply of the required medication.

[SEC: typing on screen, questioning ping] 

Well. No. Not necessarily enough for the whole ship - though they really do need to check everyone.

[SEC: questioning ping]

Uh, don't put this in the letter, Sec?

[SEC: affirmative ping]

Soon enough, the Captain drifted back into the ship with my instructions for Mr Houndsworth and my advice for the rest of his unlucky starsetters. He had a weight about his shoulders that wasn't there before. I almost felt bad.

'Poor Mr Houndsworth.' Dr Somoros commented as the Captain's silhouette disappeared into the ship. She seemed less comfortable in the lack of gravity than her commander and kept one hand firmly on the railing as she swam a little closer to me.

'What? Really? Because he has to endure the company of other species for a nanosecond longer than he wishes to?' Her laughter was the crunchy whistle that her kind are known for. Imagine that - 

[SEC: questioning ping]

- being known across Space for something as wonderful as what your species’ laugh sounds like. 

[SEC: typing on screen]

Shut up. 

[SEC: negative ping]

I asked her if she had any idea where in the heavens this infection could have come from. For infection control reasons, of course. Not because the thought of falling into an awkward silence made me nervous. Her teeth glinted at me from the laser-knife's edge of her smile.

'I have no idea.' She blinked one eye. 'But patients tend to catch it by eating food contaminated with the eggs, correct?'

I was struggling to tell whether this were test or conspiracy. So I just nodded. 'My brother used to work in the kitchen.' She shot me a look, half her eyes flashing in the white light of the airlock, the other half dimly lit with the amber glow from SS Prosper's open door. 'I'll have to ask him if anything unusual might have come in contact with the food.'

 [SEC: typing on screen]

Somehow, I suspect that the rest of the ship may be suspiciously clear of any pesky little nematodes. It would be just Mr Houndsworth's luck to get sick while surrounded by all those filthy aliens. 

[SEC: affirmative ping]

 He's going to dine off this story for the rest of his life. I just know it.

[SEC: typing on screen]

Yes, the letter. Um.  

I am discharging Mr Houndsworth from the Vesta Clinic and will attach a note advising that the other clinicians read this letter before accepting him for routine care. Ah, who am I kidding?  He is not coming back out here.

I am discharging Mr Houndsworth from the Vesta Clinic. Shame it's not out of an airlock.

Sec.

[SEC: questioning ping]

Obviously, that last line can't go in the letter.

Delete it. 

[Pause] 

[SEC: affirmative ping]

Signed,

Dr Faye Underwood

The Vesta Clinic

[MUSIC: The Vesta Clinic Theme]

CREDITS

This episode of the Vesta Clinic was created by AMC. It starred AMC as Faye Underwood and Sec as himself. Music by AMC and Ruby Campbell. 

 Please check out our show notes for content warnings, transcripts, and your prescription of: a cat that loves you as much as you love them. 

If you enjoyed this episode and would like to help the show reach more ears, please tell someone who loves podcasts to check into the Vesta Clinic. You can also follow us on your social media of choice at @vestaclinicpod! We'd love to see you there!

Content Warnings: Xenophobia, parasites, deception

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

Sound Effect Attributions: 

Spaceship compartment door.With pneumatics(8lrs,mltprcssng).wav by newlocknew at Freesound.org 

Typing metal plate(reson,rev,DTBlkfx,Eq,Extr,sat,dcmtr)12.wav by newlocknew at Freesound.org 

Man runs long corridor 01 171017_1227.wav by https://freesound.org/people/klankbeeld/

latex glove1.2.aiff by brotherprovisional at Freesound.org 

Monster in Pain by Brainclaim at Freesound.org