"It's understandable. You were very sick, and on sedatives. It does you credit that you were tracking your surroundings enough to put it together when you did." Her lips curve up a little. "- And that you were able to scheme a breakout attempt at all." 

Ma'ar can't help smiling back a little. :It was a very incompetent attempt. It would not have worked: 

The smile fades quickly, though; nausea is hitting in waves again, along with the particularly unpleasant feeling of being hot and cold at the same time. He coughs, tasting bile at the back of his throat. 

"I'm sorry - I know you're not feeling great right now. Thank you for bearing with me. ...What I want to do here is mainly talk through the possible treatments that you may need - because if you do get sicker, you might not be in any shape to consent by the time it comes up. And you don't have any next of kin who can make medical decisions on your behalf, so it's important that I understand what you would want and what you're okay with us doing." 

Like before, she's holding up the concepts very clearly to him; her other thoughts are fast and complicated, too hard for Ma'ar to follow. 

He's confused. :...Are there many options? You are the Healers - I want you to do what will help the most: 

"Right. Given what I know of you, I'm inclined to throw all the lifesaving interventions we have available at you. You're young, you look previously healthy, you've clearly got determination to spare; if we can get you through this infection, you're likely to make an excellent recovery. But there are some tradeoffs, in this kind of medicine. For example, if your lungs get worse before the infection is controlled, we might have to put the breathing tube back in and keep you in a medically induced coma. Sometimes we have to paralyze patients, even, to keep them from fighting the machine. It's a lot to put a body through, and it can be a long and difficult process getting back to full functionality after something like that. Is that something you would endorse putting yourself through, if it means you survive this?" 

This isn't a hard question. It does sound very daunting, and he's already so tired - but Ma'ar knows what his answer is.  :Yes. Of course: 

Nod. "We might have to put you through some very painful procedures. We'll do everything we can to keep your pain well controlled, of course, but it's never perfect, and you might not always be able to safely tolerate the drugs it would take to keep you entirely comfortable. And sometimes we do everything we can to treat symptoms and it doesn't work. You look like you're still feeling pretty miserable right now, for example." 

:I can tolerate it: 

"- I buy it. I've treated military guys before." 

She shifts her weight a little on the bed. Purses her lips. "...Ma'ar, I want you to tell me honestly how you're feeling. It's not whining; it's information I need to know. All right?" 

It feels impossible to describe it in words. It would take a lot of words. :Bad: 

Dr Zee narrows her eyes at him. "Are you in pain? Where, how badly?" 

:...Some. Achy everywhere. Sore throat. Headache: 

"Going by your face I'm going to correct 'some' to 'a lot.' Do you feel short of breath, or like it's more effort to breathe than usual?" 

Ma'ar considers this question. :A little short of breath: 

"You're needing a lot more supplemental oxygen than yesterday. Is anything coming up when you cough?" 

Ma'ar nods and tiredly shows her the mouth-suction thing. 

Dr Zee nods, and then quickly works through a long list of symptoms, most of which Ma'ar has. 

Yes to nausea, yes to intense fatigue and weakness, yes he's mentally foggy, yes he's lightheaded and dizzy, yes he's cold and shivery. 

He's not having chest pain - at least, it doesn't disproportionately hurt compared to everywhere else. He doesn't notice numbness or tingling in his extremities. He doesn't think he has any odd visual changes, except that he's still seeing double. 

He's agonizingly thirsty, and mentions this. It's one of the more uncomfortable aspects. 

Dr Zee pulls down her stethoscope and listens to his lungs; she looks in his throat with a penlight; she has him follow her finger with his eyes; she asks him to lift his arms while she tries to push them down. 

The last one is appallingly hard and tiring; he can only keep his arms extended in midair for about ten seconds, but can't stop them from trembling, and he can't seem to push against her grip at all. 

And then she just HAS to prod at his belly. She's very gentle about it, but it still sends Ma'ar grabbing for his bucket. Just dry heaves, this time, but it's shockingly painful, and he feels on the edge of passing out. His vision greys. 

- when he can see again, Marian is supporting his shoulders and looking worriedly into his eyes. "Ma'ar? Hey? Talk to me." 

:Sorry: 

Marian's eyes widen in relief. "Did you black out for a second there? I couldn't tell." 

:...I think not. Just very lightheaded: He closes his eyes. :I want to sleep: