“don’t think i don’t know how this might end”
— “Oh, come on,” Anthony feigned offense. “I don’t take blood samples at every checkup. I try to avoid it if I can, actually, because a surprising number of you guys are so squeamish around needles.” He’d spent nearly half of his life as a doctor; he was certainly no stranger to reluctant patients, but it didn’t make dealing with them any more pleasant. It was a daily practice in self-control that he didn’t allow himself to grow frustrated with some of the crew members’ insistence that they were ‘fine’, and truthfully, he couldn’t blame them while he was guilty of the same thing. Based on his physical health alone, the communicator was one of Anthony’s easiest patients; his checkups were almost always spotless, and Jacob was so self-sufficient that Anthony rarely had cause to worry about him like he did for the rest of the crew. He was concerned that Jacob’s mental health might be a different story entirely, but such was not their relationship that he felt comfortable broaching the topic.
Examination complete, the doctor took a step back, draping his stethoscope over his neck. “Everything checks out okay. Your lungs are fine. Eyes and ears look good. I don’t see a need for a blood test this time…unless you’re absolutely dying to do it,” he added the last part as a joke, patting Jacob on the shoulder. “Otherwise, I’ll see you back here in a month. And if anything comes up before then — as always, you know where to find me.”
