fandomhigh | Health Education, Thursday, Period 3

Although Thursday was, of course, Thor's day, they were neither of them so rigid or so attached to a bit of wordplay that Don couldn't put in an appearance on that day, especially when scheduling so decreed. So here was Don at the front of the classroom, greeting his students with a, "Good morning! This is Health Education, and I am Dr. Donald Blake, although I am currently not licensed to practice in the state of Maryland. New York, yes. It's a...paperwork thing." It was fine. "While I don't recommend dying in the first place, if you can avoid coming back from the dead you should do that. Huge headache. Anyway. I can still teach.

"Since this is the first week of class, we are going to do, yes, introductions. This helps me know what you might already know about the subject, and also what you might have really, really wrong. I was dead for about ten years and I feel like I missed a ton," maybe because in real time he'd skipped closer to forty, but, y'know, details, "and I have friends back home who are from other dimensions and whatnot, so I know how confusing this can all be. So. Name, where and when you're from, and anything else you think I should know, like why you took this class. Also, if you've already had any vaccinations, because that's gonna be the first order of business next week. Go," he said, pointing at a student at random.

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Healthy!

He did what now?

You know the drill.

He's here for any questions you might have so far.

This class brought to you by Don's, "Oh my god you all need to be vaccinated," moment.

Eleanor Zarrinn

Lydia Bennet

Honestly, Eleanor was feeling like her all-Thirsday schedule had actually been nicely planned out. Start with sports and exercise, take a moment to rest and relax, and then into the one class she really felt was useful and wanted to do her best in.

Could that moose actually be onto something?

But she shook her head and put that aside as she took her turn for introductions.

"I'm Eleanor Zarrin," she offered, "originally from Winterport, Maine, and it's 1976...wait, no, it's been 1977 now, back home for me. So a little behind the times. And I wanted to take this class because I'm sort of an apothecarist? Back home? It's complicated, but I want to be able to bring modern medicine into what my grandmother used to do. I don't...think I've gotten any vaccines, but also, I'm not exactly..." There was a faint wince, and a quick, nervous look around the class. It probably wasn't a big secret, but she still compulsively dropped her voice to a quieter almost-whisper, "...human, so I don't really know how that might change things like that..."

There was a joke in there, about a rabies shot, though.

"I am Miss Lydia Bennet," Lydia said, "and I hail from England, in the year 18--no, it is 1811 now at home," she corrected herself. "I have heard of vaccines, and they sound miraculous, but I have not yet had the opportunity to obtain them for myself."

Or she was under the impression they involved a crab poking her with needles and thus had kept putting it off even though she really, really did not want smallpox. One of those.

"It could make a difference," Don said, "or it might not. If you ever get colds or anything like that, for the sake of herd immunity I'd suggest getting vaccinated, but maybe do a modified schedule. One shot at a time to make sure there won't be any adverse reactions. There's no harm in being cautious."

Unless you were doing it because of debunked and fraudulent studies linking vaccines and autism, but he stomped viciously on that rant before it could begin.

"Couldn't it be possible, though," asked Eleanor, her brow furrowed with concern and her head tilting, and just trying to imagine the look on the poor nurse's face when she got pricked and what came out was orange, "that it might be harmful to what I am? I mean, I don't know anything about it, other than what I've learned from your classes before, but..."

She bit her lip, trying to think of how to say it.

"Would you give a dog the same sort of vaccine you'd give a human?"

Should they talk to the vet, actually? Eleanor was regretting having said anything now; she should have just taken them and dealt with any detrimental effects as best she could. She shook her head.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," she said quickly, though the knot of dread had certainly settled in her stomach.

"Well," Don said slowly as he tried to think how to phrase this himself, "I'm a surgeon, so my knowledge of immunology is admittedly somewhat less than a specialist's, but I do know that at home--in my home dimension--there are a number of nonhuman and human variant types, so there's some testing that can be done--I want to say on a blood sample--to see how your cells react to vaccines and if something different needs to be done. They might have something similar at the clinic." Or he could call one of his colleagues in New York, but with the SHRA in effect that might land Eleanor on a registry and he really did not want that.

This knowledge brought to you by his last, 'Oh my god...none of these people are vaccinated,' moment, which had involved the Inhumans and led to Thor attempting to explain vaccine schedules to Black Bolt.

James Flint

"I'm James Flint," Flint said, "from New Providence Island in the New Word and 1715. I have not had anyone stick a needle into me that was not related to a tattoo."

And he had not gotten tetanus or died of a horrible infection, so, you know: genuinely impressive, actually.

"Right," Don said. "That's...good to know. I think you'll find that our understanding of a great many things has changed in the last--" Odin's eyeteeth, "--three hundred and ten years. For example, we rarely employ leeches in the field of medicine." Sometimes, though!

"My ship's doctor doesn't like them," Flint said.

Health Education, Thursday, Period 3

Sign In

During the Lecture

Introductions

Talk to Don

OOC

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