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[center][h2][color=#406f40]Joel Shcroeder[/color] [/h2] [/center]
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Location: Altsoba Hospital
Interacting With: Various Nurses
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His body spasms, chills rushing through his limbs like trains as he hurls yet again, thick, frothy stomach acids exposing themselves into the far too small bucket on the floor next to his cot. His eyes water unendingly as he violently empties the content of his stomach onto the floor and bucket, cold streams of sweat pushing from his forehead and back. His body continues to shake from the mixture of dry heaves and the icy sweat soaking him to the bone. With the pressure under his skull eradicated, he gets to lucidly experience every vile moment of this illness, a factor which he drastically wished to be reversed. 

As he continues to heave, he can slowly feel a slight numbing in his lips, unbeknownst to him signifying their rapid color change. A nurse passes him frantically, looking over him just long enough to recognize that he needs medical assistance, Immediately. A small group of three nurses, two males and a woman, swarm him and immediately begin to analyse his ailments, although the enormous red gash on his forehead should have been enough of a signifier to recognize that major blood-loss was the issue at hand.

[i]"What's his type, it should say on the chart."[/i]
The older male asks sharply, inserting an IV into a vein on the top of Joel's left hand, connected to a bag of clear liquid, marked by the sudden numbness and comfort to likely be Morphine, or a similarly potent pain reliever. 

[b]"It doesn't say, he's not a resident, I'll have to get ahold of his hospital records to find out."[/b]
The younger woman responds, almost mechanically, her experience showing starkly.

[i]"Get on it, ASAP, we'll put him on a bag of 0- until we know what he is, but we have a limited supply of it, so be quick."[/i]
The older nurse responds quickly, sprinting off towards what can be assumed to be the blood fridge as the woman does the same in the opposite direction; leaving the youngest, and likely least experienced nurse to tend to Joel single handedly. The young man begins to quickly and frantically check all the vital readings, knowing that the results would be less useful than preferred. 

As the morphine begins to fully kick in, Joel's shiverings and heavings ease in violence, until the fade away completely as the Professor loses consciousness. The occasional spasm shakes his otherwise limp body, causing a quick succession of profanities from the nurse's mouth, relief showing visibly on his face as the older gentlemen returns with two blood bags, out of breath as he hastily sets up another IV drip, this time to the professor's forearm. He opens the drip about 75% of the way before turning to the younger nurse and instructing him to stay next to the unconscious professor's cot, and to immediately return the O- to the cold storage when they figure out the man's blood-type, and that if he Flatlines, the nurse has three minutes to try and resuscitate him before announcing a time of death and moving to another patient. And, with that, he ran off to offer assistance to another dying patient.