Jean and Pyotr: Examinations (Backdated)
Feb. 11th, 2022 02:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xp_phoenix posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logsJean administers Pyotr's physical exam and gets to meet Colossus.
Pyotr sat atop the bench in Medical, clad in a ridiculous paper gown, The room was done up in cool, soothing colors and had a goodly bit of equipment he had no idea what the function was. Not that it mattered much - he glanced over at his neatly-folded clothes and was pretty sure that he could go Colossus in this gown without startling and/or flashing everyone. Maybe.
They said the doctor was going to be along shortly and he was actually excited to get going.
The door opened and Jean walked in. She wore a simple black button up blouse, dark green loafers, and a pair of black shoes with her doctor's coat.
"Mr. Rasputin?" she said with a warm smile, extending her hand. "I'm Dr. Grey."
“A pleasure to meet you, Doctor Grey. But please, call me Pyotr.” He requested with a smile. “I am in excellent shape as Pyotr and even better as Colossus so hopefully this will be a speedy checkup.”
Jean laughed. "Hopefully," she said. Tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear, she motioned toward a scale in the corner of the room. It looked a bit more high tech than the average scale. "We're going to take your measurements first as a baseline, starting with your weight. Can you please stand on the scale?"
Her smile widened. "And you can call me Jean if you'd like."
"Compromise on Dr Jean? You earned your MD, it should be used." he said as he hopped off the bench to go stand on the very fancy scale. He frowned a bit as the first data started to come back. "Darn. Am getting fat." he said as he looked at the number. He was up to a scandalous 255 pounds. Awful. Slovenly Pyotr!
"What do you consider your ideal weight?," Jean said, making note of the weight on her iPad. "Given your height, frame, and muscle tone I'd say you appear to be proportional."
Pyotr frowned. "I've been eating and working out for looks, to stay strong but be lean." he said, gesturing to himself. "Aim to stay in the 240-250 range, ideally at 10% body fat. I am becoming slovenly. Too much art time, not enough mat time." he said with a frown. "I can do better."
"You can step off now," Jean said, motioning back to the exam table. "Let's take a seat."
Once he sat down she pulled over a stool, resting the iPad on her knee. "From what I'm hearing I'm a little concerned that you may have picked up some negative perceptions about your weight and body image. It might be helpful to talk to someone about working to improve that. We don't really have anyone on staff right now for that, though, but I can recommend a few people outside of the mansion."
Pyotr blinked, clearly startled by the statement. "All right." he said obediently. She was the doctor, after all. He was hoping this was just an American thing but if she wanted him to go talk to someone then he'd go talk to someone. "So what's next?" he asked, putting a smile back on his face. "Listen to heartbeat? Run on treadmill?"
"Just your heartbeat, blood pressure, and breath sounds for now. Stamina tests are for a different time," Jean said. Pulling out a small clip looking device with a digital readout, she turned it on and placed it on his finger while she got up to grab the cuff to measure his blood pressure.
"So have you been here in America for long?"
"A few years now." he said as she went and got her paraphernalia to check his blood pressure. She was, he suspected, going to have a fun time getting a cuff around his guns. "Have you been here at the Institute long?"
Luckily Jean had been around enough mutants of varying sizes to come prepared with modified equipment. The cuff she used had an extender, which she pulled out to make it larger than normal. She started to wrap it around his arm, then tilted her head thoughtfully when realizing it needed a bit more extension. So she did so, closing the cuff with a trshch-trch-ch-ch crunching sound of the velcro.
"A few years as well," she said with a smile, squeezing the ball to pump up the cuff. "I'd been working through med school and some time with the mutant underground prior."
Pyotr looked mildly impressed that she managed to get a cuff around his bicep. He did, however, resolve to not flex lest the velcro give way entirely. His number was dead on normal, which is what he'd always suspected it would be. He was healthy as a horse, ate right, and worked out often to tone his body. If there was something wrong with him it was beyond his ability to feel it.
Jean wrote down his blood pressure. It was within range, which was good.
"Next we'll do breath sounds," she said. Uncurling the stethoscope from around her neck she paused for a moment when she realized his height, even when sitting on the exam table, made listening a little tricky. Luckily she had a useful power set to aid her in that regard (though a step ladder would have worked too).
Hovering slightly off the ground gave her the added inches she needed, and she pressed the stethoscope to his back.
"Okay, take a deep, slow breath for me in and out."
He obligingly breathed for her, nice and deep, filling his lungs as best he could. "You are floating," he pointed out. No condemnation, no surprise, no shock, just an observation. "A handy trick."
Jean glanced down, then smiled. "Yes, it's very handy. I can do a lot more than that," she said, moving the stethoscope to another part of his back to listen to. "Another breath please."
He obligingly took another deep breath, held it for a few seconds, then released it. "Would you like for me to change, so you can see if there's a difference between my two forms?" he asked her casually.
"I was going to get to that but if you'd like to do it now, be my guest," Jean said with a smile, landing on the ground a few feet away to give him room.
One second, Pyotr sat there in his silly little paper gown. The next, a much bigger man made from organic steel sat there, settling the remains of the paper gown delicately across his lap for both of their sakes. "There." he said, his voice deeper and more resonant. "Doctor Jean, meet Colossus." he said with a friendly wave at his now-base impossibly well-muscled bare torso.
Jean glanced up at the now shiny metal man, quirking a brow. She had learned to expect the unexpected at the mansion so it was just a matter of rolling with the punches.
"Nice to meet you, Colossus," she said, making a note in his chart. "Are you referring to yourself in the third person intentionally or is Colossus a secondary personality?" She had fought the Hulk, after all, and knew Dr. Bruce Banner. It was not unheard of.
"It's all me," he said. "Just a shorthand so people can know what to expect. I'm still me - same memories, same experiences, same everything. Just bigger, stronger, tougher." he said with a laugh. At least when he was talking he could remember to breathe. He'd be told that sometimes he forgot and it was extremely creepy.
"...Got it," Jean said. "Well, we can do more tests with Colossus later. This is just to establish a baseline."
She put her stethoscope to his back with a hollow 'thunk' as metal met metal, but then paused. " Do you find your body operates differently while in this form? Is it entirely impenetrable? Have you ever broken the skin? If so, what happened?"
Pyotr took a break so he could respond. "Never been formally examined when I'm Colossus." he said. "Do know that I only need to breathe to talk and I don't get tired when I'm like this." he said. "Admittedly, only tested it for a few days in a row of running at top speed, but I think that's definitive enough." he said. Then he paused to contemplate the question more. "Do not get hungry. Do not get thirsty. Do not need the toilet." he said. "Can take bullet to face or tank shell to body, walk away fine."
Jean listened thoughtfully. "Good to know. We will need to do some tests just in case. I would not want that assumption to be proven false in the middle of a fight," she said. The human body worked a certain way. To find it potentially didn't work that way when in Pyotr's form was something to take note of.
"We'll try breathing anyway. Just to humor me," she added with a smile.
Pyotr made sure to take some very deep breaths, just to accommodate her request. "I look forward to anything you can learn. We didn't have much medical research equipment where I grew up and plus, did not want to get on the government's radar." he said uneasily. "Especially my strength and durability." he added. "I haven't found anything I couldn't lift myself but I had to be careful to not reveal myself."
"Understandable," Jean said. "I saw similar instances during my work with the Mutant Underground."
She pulled the stethoscope away thoughtfully. "I can't really hear anything. We may have to do more tests. But that can be for another time. In the meantime, however, I think we should call it a day for now. Unless there's something you were worried about and wanted to talk to me about regarding your health."
"I feel healthy, but I usually do." he said with an impressive shrug of metal shoulders. "But what I really want to do is start to put some parameters around my ability." he said. "How strong? How tough? That sort of thing." he said. "I know, too much for first go, but moving forward, that's what I want to know the most." Then he paused for a long, long moment. "One other thing I wanted to talk about." he said. "Do you have something fragile you can hand me for demonstration purposes?"
"What do you mean?" Jean said.
"As Colossus, I have difficulty holding fragile things. "Brushes, pens, plates, that sort of thing." he explained. "I tend to crush them. Have hard time determining how much force I need to hold things."
"Ah," Jean said, putting her stuff down. "Just a moment. I'll be right back."
Her shoes echoed against the floor as she left the room and returned a few seconds later with an egg.
"Let's try this."
“I hope you have something to clean up with.” he said as he held out his hand. If she just placed it in his palm chances are he would be OK. If she wanted him to take it from her hand it was likely to get … messy.
Jean smiled. "I'm a telekinetic. We're good. Do whatever you need."
He just shrugged and tried his best to pick the egg up out of her palm. And sure enough, the moment he applied pressure to the egg the shell caved in, egg goo going - nowhere as she made sure to keep it all self contained.
Jean quirked a brow. "Hmm," she said, walking over to the trash to deposit the exploded egg before returning.
"Do you have the same issue when not in your metal form?"
"Not at all." he said simply. "Had it a bit when I first manifested but I worked through it." he said. "Seems that whenever I add some serious muscle and it carries across, it is difficult for a time to handle delicate things. With practice and time, though, it usually goes away." he elaborated. "At least I'm not breaking Mama's dishes anymore." he said with a smile.
Jean smiled back. "That's good. We can see about finding ways to work on it," she said, making a note on her ipad.
"Well, unless you have anything else to add, I'm done here for the time being. We'll have Clarice do your blood work on the way out."
He shifted back to flesh-and-blood and then clutched at his garb to avoid making more of a show of himself than he was prepared to do at that time. "Sounds good." he said agreeably. "She's the purple one, right? Still learning names and faces here."
Having been a doctor for years, Jean had seen it all...modesty or not and didn't bat an eye. Nevertheless, she turned to the side for his own benefit. "Yes," she said, then added with a smile. "Though I think she'd probably prefer not being called 'the purple one' even if she does have lavender skin,"
"Of course I'm not just going to call around for the purple girl until someone answers." he said with a disapproving look. "She has a name, I have every intention of using it. But rather than wander around like stranger or idiot, thought it might be good to introduce myself to the right person correctly."
"I understand. There's nothing wrong with not knowing who someone is," Jean said. "You're new. It's okay to be a stranger at first. But I know some can feel slighted if they're referred to by their skin color alone as a distinguishing characteristic, especially if they've been ostracized from society because of it. I know you may not call someone 'the brown one' or 'the blue one' to their face, but they could still overhear. It may bring up bad memories. In this case you don't have to find Clarice, though. She'll be finding you since you're the patient. We have a waiting room outside. She'll be with you shortly," she added, motioning toward the door.
Pyotr went peacefully, even if his barely-there psi-shielding did little to hide his irritation at Jean's dismissal. It wasn't in his nature to stay irritated, though, and it soon enough faded as he went to go find Clarice for the followup that had been requested.
Pyotr sat atop the bench in Medical, clad in a ridiculous paper gown, The room was done up in cool, soothing colors and had a goodly bit of equipment he had no idea what the function was. Not that it mattered much - he glanced over at his neatly-folded clothes and was pretty sure that he could go Colossus in this gown without startling and/or flashing everyone. Maybe.
They said the doctor was going to be along shortly and he was actually excited to get going.
The door opened and Jean walked in. She wore a simple black button up blouse, dark green loafers, and a pair of black shoes with her doctor's coat.
"Mr. Rasputin?" she said with a warm smile, extending her hand. "I'm Dr. Grey."
“A pleasure to meet you, Doctor Grey. But please, call me Pyotr.” He requested with a smile. “I am in excellent shape as Pyotr and even better as Colossus so hopefully this will be a speedy checkup.”
Jean laughed. "Hopefully," she said. Tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear, she motioned toward a scale in the corner of the room. It looked a bit more high tech than the average scale. "We're going to take your measurements first as a baseline, starting with your weight. Can you please stand on the scale?"
Her smile widened. "And you can call me Jean if you'd like."
"Compromise on Dr Jean? You earned your MD, it should be used." he said as he hopped off the bench to go stand on the very fancy scale. He frowned a bit as the first data started to come back. "Darn. Am getting fat." he said as he looked at the number. He was up to a scandalous 255 pounds. Awful. Slovenly Pyotr!
"What do you consider your ideal weight?," Jean said, making note of the weight on her iPad. "Given your height, frame, and muscle tone I'd say you appear to be proportional."
Pyotr frowned. "I've been eating and working out for looks, to stay strong but be lean." he said, gesturing to himself. "Aim to stay in the 240-250 range, ideally at 10% body fat. I am becoming slovenly. Too much art time, not enough mat time." he said with a frown. "I can do better."
"You can step off now," Jean said, motioning back to the exam table. "Let's take a seat."
Once he sat down she pulled over a stool, resting the iPad on her knee. "From what I'm hearing I'm a little concerned that you may have picked up some negative perceptions about your weight and body image. It might be helpful to talk to someone about working to improve that. We don't really have anyone on staff right now for that, though, but I can recommend a few people outside of the mansion."
Pyotr blinked, clearly startled by the statement. "All right." he said obediently. She was the doctor, after all. He was hoping this was just an American thing but if she wanted him to go talk to someone then he'd go talk to someone. "So what's next?" he asked, putting a smile back on his face. "Listen to heartbeat? Run on treadmill?"
"Just your heartbeat, blood pressure, and breath sounds for now. Stamina tests are for a different time," Jean said. Pulling out a small clip looking device with a digital readout, she turned it on and placed it on his finger while she got up to grab the cuff to measure his blood pressure.
"So have you been here in America for long?"
"A few years now." he said as she went and got her paraphernalia to check his blood pressure. She was, he suspected, going to have a fun time getting a cuff around his guns. "Have you been here at the Institute long?"
Luckily Jean had been around enough mutants of varying sizes to come prepared with modified equipment. The cuff she used had an extender, which she pulled out to make it larger than normal. She started to wrap it around his arm, then tilted her head thoughtfully when realizing it needed a bit more extension. So she did so, closing the cuff with a trshch-trch-ch-ch crunching sound of the velcro.
"A few years as well," she said with a smile, squeezing the ball to pump up the cuff. "I'd been working through med school and some time with the mutant underground prior."
Pyotr looked mildly impressed that she managed to get a cuff around his bicep. He did, however, resolve to not flex lest the velcro give way entirely. His number was dead on normal, which is what he'd always suspected it would be. He was healthy as a horse, ate right, and worked out often to tone his body. If there was something wrong with him it was beyond his ability to feel it.
Jean wrote down his blood pressure. It was within range, which was good.
"Next we'll do breath sounds," she said. Uncurling the stethoscope from around her neck she paused for a moment when she realized his height, even when sitting on the exam table, made listening a little tricky. Luckily she had a useful power set to aid her in that regard (though a step ladder would have worked too).
Hovering slightly off the ground gave her the added inches she needed, and she pressed the stethoscope to his back.
"Okay, take a deep, slow breath for me in and out."
He obligingly breathed for her, nice and deep, filling his lungs as best he could. "You are floating," he pointed out. No condemnation, no surprise, no shock, just an observation. "A handy trick."
Jean glanced down, then smiled. "Yes, it's very handy. I can do a lot more than that," she said, moving the stethoscope to another part of his back to listen to. "Another breath please."
He obligingly took another deep breath, held it for a few seconds, then released it. "Would you like for me to change, so you can see if there's a difference between my two forms?" he asked her casually.
"I was going to get to that but if you'd like to do it now, be my guest," Jean said with a smile, landing on the ground a few feet away to give him room.
One second, Pyotr sat there in his silly little paper gown. The next, a much bigger man made from organic steel sat there, settling the remains of the paper gown delicately across his lap for both of their sakes. "There." he said, his voice deeper and more resonant. "Doctor Jean, meet Colossus." he said with a friendly wave at his now-base impossibly well-muscled bare torso.
Jean glanced up at the now shiny metal man, quirking a brow. She had learned to expect the unexpected at the mansion so it was just a matter of rolling with the punches.
"Nice to meet you, Colossus," she said, making a note in his chart. "Are you referring to yourself in the third person intentionally or is Colossus a secondary personality?" She had fought the Hulk, after all, and knew Dr. Bruce Banner. It was not unheard of.
"It's all me," he said. "Just a shorthand so people can know what to expect. I'm still me - same memories, same experiences, same everything. Just bigger, stronger, tougher." he said with a laugh. At least when he was talking he could remember to breathe. He'd be told that sometimes he forgot and it was extremely creepy.
"...Got it," Jean said. "Well, we can do more tests with Colossus later. This is just to establish a baseline."
She put her stethoscope to his back with a hollow 'thunk' as metal met metal, but then paused. " Do you find your body operates differently while in this form? Is it entirely impenetrable? Have you ever broken the skin? If so, what happened?"
Pyotr took a break so he could respond. "Never been formally examined when I'm Colossus." he said. "Do know that I only need to breathe to talk and I don't get tired when I'm like this." he said. "Admittedly, only tested it for a few days in a row of running at top speed, but I think that's definitive enough." he said. Then he paused to contemplate the question more. "Do not get hungry. Do not get thirsty. Do not need the toilet." he said. "Can take bullet to face or tank shell to body, walk away fine."
Jean listened thoughtfully. "Good to know. We will need to do some tests just in case. I would not want that assumption to be proven false in the middle of a fight," she said. The human body worked a certain way. To find it potentially didn't work that way when in Pyotr's form was something to take note of.
"We'll try breathing anyway. Just to humor me," she added with a smile.
Pyotr made sure to take some very deep breaths, just to accommodate her request. "I look forward to anything you can learn. We didn't have much medical research equipment where I grew up and plus, did not want to get on the government's radar." he said uneasily. "Especially my strength and durability." he added. "I haven't found anything I couldn't lift myself but I had to be careful to not reveal myself."
"Understandable," Jean said. "I saw similar instances during my work with the Mutant Underground."
She pulled the stethoscope away thoughtfully. "I can't really hear anything. We may have to do more tests. But that can be for another time. In the meantime, however, I think we should call it a day for now. Unless there's something you were worried about and wanted to talk to me about regarding your health."
"I feel healthy, but I usually do." he said with an impressive shrug of metal shoulders. "But what I really want to do is start to put some parameters around my ability." he said. "How strong? How tough? That sort of thing." he said. "I know, too much for first go, but moving forward, that's what I want to know the most." Then he paused for a long, long moment. "One other thing I wanted to talk about." he said. "Do you have something fragile you can hand me for demonstration purposes?"
"What do you mean?" Jean said.
"As Colossus, I have difficulty holding fragile things. "Brushes, pens, plates, that sort of thing." he explained. "I tend to crush them. Have hard time determining how much force I need to hold things."
"Ah," Jean said, putting her stuff down. "Just a moment. I'll be right back."
Her shoes echoed against the floor as she left the room and returned a few seconds later with an egg.
"Let's try this."
“I hope you have something to clean up with.” he said as he held out his hand. If she just placed it in his palm chances are he would be OK. If she wanted him to take it from her hand it was likely to get … messy.
Jean smiled. "I'm a telekinetic. We're good. Do whatever you need."
He just shrugged and tried his best to pick the egg up out of her palm. And sure enough, the moment he applied pressure to the egg the shell caved in, egg goo going - nowhere as she made sure to keep it all self contained.
Jean quirked a brow. "Hmm," she said, walking over to the trash to deposit the exploded egg before returning.
"Do you have the same issue when not in your metal form?"
"Not at all." he said simply. "Had it a bit when I first manifested but I worked through it." he said. "Seems that whenever I add some serious muscle and it carries across, it is difficult for a time to handle delicate things. With practice and time, though, it usually goes away." he elaborated. "At least I'm not breaking Mama's dishes anymore." he said with a smile.
Jean smiled back. "That's good. We can see about finding ways to work on it," she said, making a note on her ipad.
"Well, unless you have anything else to add, I'm done here for the time being. We'll have Clarice do your blood work on the way out."
He shifted back to flesh-and-blood and then clutched at his garb to avoid making more of a show of himself than he was prepared to do at that time. "Sounds good." he said agreeably. "She's the purple one, right? Still learning names and faces here."
Having been a doctor for years, Jean had seen it all...modesty or not and didn't bat an eye. Nevertheless, she turned to the side for his own benefit. "Yes," she said, then added with a smile. "Though I think she'd probably prefer not being called 'the purple one' even if she does have lavender skin,"
"Of course I'm not just going to call around for the purple girl until someone answers." he said with a disapproving look. "She has a name, I have every intention of using it. But rather than wander around like stranger or idiot, thought it might be good to introduce myself to the right person correctly."
"I understand. There's nothing wrong with not knowing who someone is," Jean said. "You're new. It's okay to be a stranger at first. But I know some can feel slighted if they're referred to by their skin color alone as a distinguishing characteristic, especially if they've been ostracized from society because of it. I know you may not call someone 'the brown one' or 'the blue one' to their face, but they could still overhear. It may bring up bad memories. In this case you don't have to find Clarice, though. She'll be finding you since you're the patient. We have a waiting room outside. She'll be with you shortly," she added, motioning toward the door.
Pyotr went peacefully, even if his barely-there psi-shielding did little to hide his irritation at Jean's dismissal. It wasn't in his nature to stay irritated, though, and it soon enough faded as he went to go find Clarice for the followup that had been requested.
