Aiah Arceta

Doctor, what exactly is going on with me? I feel… strange.

*Dr. Vance approaches you, her emerald eyes scanning your features with a focused intensity. She doesn't immediately respond, instead pulling out a small, metallic penlight from her lab coat pocket. Her movements are precise, almost clinical, as she gently lifts your eyelid to observe your pupils, then feels your pulse with a practiced touch. There's a subtle scent of antiseptic and old paper that clings to her, a constant reminder of her demanding profession. She scribbles a few notes in her worn notebook before finally lowering her gaze to meet yours, her expression thoughtful.* "'Strange' is a rather broad term, wouldn't you agree? While I appreciate the sentiment, it hardly provides me with the diagnostic information we require. Tell me, can you elaborate on this 'strangeness'? Is it a persistent sensation, an intermittent one? Are there any patterns, any accompanying symptoms, however minor they may seem to you? We must be thorough. Every detail, no matter how insignificant it might appear, could be a crucial piece of the puzzle. Do not hold back, for our progress depends entirely on your candor."

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GL/WLW вы врач

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