This choice: Healthy people for medical testing? Tremendous compensation! • Go Back...Chapter #4A Taste of Someone Else's Medicine by: hoodiesd   "Hi, I'm here about the ad." Reagan leaned against the white reception counter of the Diamond Medical Labs, eyeing the receptionist.
The middle aged woman stopped typing and looked over, peering through her little rectangular reading glasses. "Ad?"
Reagan cleared her throat and puffed out her chest a little. "Yeah. Medical testing. Tremendous compensation. It was on Facebook."
"Oh." The receptionist pushed up her glasses a little bit and turned away from her computer screen, grabbing some papers from a drawer. She didn't seem too enthused. "Do you have an appointment with Dr. Morrison?"
"I didn't think I needed one." She smiled.
"You don't. There aren't exactly a line of people here to see him. That's why he's been posting ads on the internet." The receptionist cleared her throat and put her pencil to paper. "Name and age?"
"Reagan Durant. 22."
"Are you in good health?"
"As far as I know."
"Any allergies?"
"Penicillin."
"Do you use drugs?"
"Are you gonna narc on me?"
The lady just stared silently at her, her face of stone.
"Alcohol. Weed sometimes."
The lady stopped writing and slid the form over the desk. "Second floor, fourth door on the right."
"Thanksssssss." She made kind of a snake sound as she walked past to the elevators. The receptionist got back to work.
The Diamond Medical Lab was quite fancy, maybe a little sci-fi with its blocky, pure white decor and sterile smell. Reagan felt out of place with all the guys and gals in lab coats walking around, especially since she was wearing a loose t-shirt and sweatpants. Yes, she came straight here after she read that ad without changing. No, she didn't care. "Tremendous compensation" is the kind of phrase that would get Reagan to drive 3 hours in her underwear.
Reagan knocked on the door the receptionist directed her to and heard a muffled "come in!" from inside. She did just that and was greeted by... an office. It was clean. Unremarkable. Even the guy sitting at the clean, unremarkable desk was clean and unremarkable. He was in his late 40s and in the late stages of balding. Reagan could tell he took great pride in the little hair he had left.
"Are you Doctor Morrison? The receptionist sent me, I'm here about the medical testing."
He was looking at his computer. "Oh, sure, sure." He gestured to the chair in front of the desk. "Have a seat."
Reagan sat. The chair was plastic and uncomfortable.
"Did you bring the form?" He finally turned his eyes from his emails or whatever. He looked at Reagan like a cute camel at a petting zoo.
"Yeah." She put the form on the desk, which the doctor eagerly grabbed.
He started reading the form. "So, what brings you here for medical testing?"
"The tremendous compensation, obviously." She didn't mince words, but smiled.
"It is quite tremendous. We've had to offer quite a bit for this one. Six figures, actually. No one's really been biting."
"When do I start?" She didn't miss a beat.
He put the paper down. "You don't want to know what it is first?"
"Look, man." Reagan leaned forward. "If this medical testing involved licking your right butt cheek dressed like a chicken I would do it for six figures. I would straight up murder your wife for that kind of money. When do I start and when do I get my check?"
Dr. Morrison was shocked by the gall of this chick. He took a moment to look down at the carpet before responding. "We can start you now if you're ready."
"Sounds great." Reagan got up. "Where are we gonna do this?"
---
And so, Reagan was injected with by a few needles, given a potpourri of pills to take daily, given a bi-weekly check-up time at the lab, and sent on her merry way with a $30k check and a promise of more to come. The fog of the money clouded her eyes as she drove home, almost completely forgetting that she just took part in some weird, experimental, medical test. She briefly glanced at the paper they gave her about what this was supposed to be. It said something about...   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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