This is a delicious little Naruto omake that I just had to share.
House. In Konoha. Drool.
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Sucrose Octanitrate.
Proof positive that with sufficient motivation, you can make anything explode.
Quote:Kakashi hadn’t been joking when he told her that becoming an iryou-nin would be difficult. After filling her brain with medical information, memorizing procedures over and over again, and practicing a few times, Sakura finally summoned up the courage to volunteer at one of the hospitals for more hands-on experience. She knew it was going to be hard and stressful, but it well exceeded her expectations. However, she’d be lying if she said that she didn’t enjoy the work. After all, she was volunteering four times a week and demonstrating such proficiency that the doctors took special note of her. Thus, Sakura found herself with a surprise this particular day.
“Eh? They want me to handle a case?” Sakura stared in shock at the folder the nurse handed to her.
“Hai, Sakura-san. We’ve been understaffed lately and the doctors are swamped. They’ve been very impressed with you these past couple of months and want you to demonstrate just how good you are. They said to think of it as a trial by fire,” the nurse smiled encouragingly.
Sakura swallowed hard and tried to calm her racing pulse. ‘Stay focused. It’s just like usual rounds without a doctor there. You don’t need the safety net. You got this.’
“Ganbatte, Sakura-san.” The nurse bowed and left to attend to her duties.
“Yoshi,” Sakura whispered. “I got this.” ‘Kick some ass, shannaro!’ She made her way to the patient’s room and glanced at the sleeping, somewhat heavyweight occupant before beginning to read the file. “Big guy,” she commented under her breath. “‘Forty-two year old male, presented with swelling and pain in the left thigh…unemployed…’ My first actual case and I get something like tendonitis?”
“You’re a moron.”
Sakura whipped around at the sudden, cynical voice that ripped through her thoughts. “E…excuse me?” she stuttered, bewildered at the man who stood in the doorway.
“What, you didn’t notice me? You really don’t pay attention, do you?” he scoffed, reaching into his jacket and shoving a few of its contents into his mouth.
Her temper flared. “Who do you think you—”
“Your patient smokes pretty heavily.” The man limped into the room with a cane and made his way around the bed.
“How do you know he—” She was interrupted by shushing sounds.
“Nicotine stains on his finger. Still talking here; shut up. Then you add in the fact that he’s not exactly fit since he probably lazes around all day without a job…” He poked the patient in his abundant abdomen for emphasis.
“What are you doing?” she hissed.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure he’s a sound sleeper,” he replied sarcastically. “And finally, the ‘swelling’ is actually an edema. Put it all together and you have…?” He held out his hands expectantly.
“…Deep vein thrombosis?” Sakura asked confusedly.
“Oh good, you’re not completely hopeless.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he lifted the patient’s blanket. “Plus, if you had actually taken a look at the guy’s leg, you would’ve known immediately.”
Indeed, to Sakura’s shame, she saw that the visible veins in the patient’s thigh were engorged. There was a clattering noise and the sound of a drawer opening and closing, and Sakura looked up to see the casually-dressed intruder swab rubbing alcohol on the patient’s arm before stabbing a needle into it. There was a sleepy “Ow” as he woke up and his eyes fluttered open.
“Sorry,” the unorthodox doctor said insincerely. “Lots of skin to go through.” He looked up at the awakening man. “Relax, you’re dreaming. Go back to the cake-eating contest or whatever.” The patient blinked, shrugged and did as he said. Securing the vial of blood, the man limped back to the doorway. “Nurse!” he bellowed. One came immediately and he handed the container to her. “Check the D-dimer levels to confirm for DVT, then get me some urokinase and heparin.” The nurse just stared at him like he had grown an extra eye. “You can either continue to stand there gaping like an idiot, or you can help prevent Tiny over there,” he jerked his left thumb at the patient, “from going into respiratory distress because of a pulmonary embolism.” That seemed to snap her out of it and she quickly moved to follow his command. He turned back to gaze at Sakura. “I would’ve had you do that cool chakra thing and break the clot up yourself, but at this rate, you’d most likely end up severing the poor guy’s femoral artery or something.”
Sakura grit her teeth harder. “How’d you know I’m a ninja?”
“Your hand’s been twitching and steadily moving towards your thigh, where a weapons pouch should be. Poor career choice, really; having that kind of hair doesn’t exactly scream, ‘Fear me for I am a mysterious warrior of the night.’” She growled in frustration and moved forward, clenching her fists. “Ah-ah-ah!” He held up his cane. “Cripple. Don’t be a bully.” She scowled darkly and restrained herself. He gave a self-satisfied smile and made his way out, calling, “You can handle the rest, right? Gotta make yourself somewhat useful.”
Sakura settled for viciously throwing the file in her hand at the wall. “Jerk,” she muttered.
House. In Konoha. Drool.
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Sucrose Octanitrate.
Proof positive that with sufficient motivation, you can make anything explode.