Dr. Anton Szczedrzykowicz, M.D., Tony to his friends, Antek to his parents, was an early bird - very early in fact: at the age of 23, he had had his medical degree for almost five years. It was so that, while he was waiting for his 21^st birthday to get licensed, he had been offered to teach one semester in the nursing school where Betty was finishing her course.

While he wasn't exactly imposing from a physical point of view (standing at 5'6", he was a full inch shorter than Betty, and not quite as fit), he made up with his smarts and natural charm. Although he wasn't muscular, he didn't have any extra fat on him, and was generally on the good-looking side.

For a time, he had considered the idea of asking her out but, while he had never been stricken speechless by her looks like so many other guys, ethical constraints had prevented him from doing so while he was her teacher

Then the roles had reversed, as he had become her student, and while the ethical constraints were much more lax in a fitness club setting, he still didn't think it would be appropriate, so the thing had kinda been put on hold. Instead, he had started more and more to appreciate her as a friend.

So it was that, a couple of years after their first encounter, Tony was smiling at Betty as she entered the room. He was practically the only one of her students who got there before she did, and the only one to do so consistently - but then again, he had always been an early bird...
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:47, Wed 11 Feb 2009.

"Well look who's here," Betty smiled at her only consistent male student in the step class.  "How's Dr. Tony today?" she smiled, dropping her gym bag at the side of the sound system's cabinet.  She listened politely for his answer as she removed her jacket and pants and stuffing them into the bag. "Funky sky out there today eh?" she mused to him, suddenly in the mood for a cardio-funk cd and placing it in the cd drawer of the sound system.  Finding the headset she pulled it onto her head, pushing the microphone from her lips while they chatted...

With an appreciative look at Betty's figure, Anton  nodded: "You can say that again... I was having coffee with a friend this morning, a Physics major. He  had an interesting theory on destructive interference and high-atmosphere refraction that basically boils down to this: 'we have no idea what's going on but we'll pretend otherwise'."

He grinned broadly, which to Betty was an indication as to the amount of coffee that had been involved: Tony's humor was closely related to the quantity of caffeine in his system - word was that people should know better than to talk to him before his second or third cup in the morning...

"No doubt," Betty giggled shaking her head in disbelief. He was certainly reved up! she mused inwardly.  "It's really is weird out there," she sighed, wondering where the rest of the class was.  She glanced at the clock checking the time.

Just as Betty looked at the clock, a couple of girls walked in. "Sorry we're late, the traffic is unbelievable. I think going on foot would have taken less time. The radio said something about drunk car-jackers or whatever..."

"What?!" Betty exclaimed almost in disbelief.  "That's horrible!  Are you guys alright?" she asked with concern, glancing at them before ascertaining they were.  "I hope that no one was hurt!" she frowned.  "Must be crackheads, who would be drinking and driving at this hour?"she wondered aloud.

The girl, a short brunette by the name of Sandra, shrugged: "We're fine, it's not even that close to here: the gridlock takes several blocks, and the police can't seem to help matters much."

Her friend Andrea (Betty remembered thinking was her sister at first, they looked so much alike) nodded in agreement: "The news said they were having a field day, or maybe a field morning."

Then, they both turned to look at Tony, and in perfect unison smiled and said: "Hey, Doc."

"Oh wow;" Betty remarked.  She glanced at the clock again calculating how many of her class might be caught up in traffic and whether she should begin without them.  The club's rules stated 3 students and classes go on.  With Anton here she was sure the other 2 weren't about to volunteer to skip class.  "Well we'll give people a few more minutes then get started," she announced as her class chatted amongst themselves and she wondered what was going on out there if the sky was affecting the day...

Within ten five minutes, half a dozen more people had arrived; there were still several missing, but at least it wasn't just three people.

One of Betty's mor irascible students, a heavyset woman by the name of Donna, arrived just as the lesson was about to begin, sporting a black eye.

<red>"Oh Donna!  Are you alright?!" Betty called at the fresh injury that was so glaringly obvious that it could not be ignored.  Refraining from cranking on and up the music, Betty retrieved an ice pack from her bag and strode across the hardwood studio floor with concern.

Donna shrugged: "You should see the bitch who did it to me."

That was even more surprising than the black eye itself: Donna was normally a very tranquil woman, not really prone to outbursts of violence - if anything, she was way too passive...

Betty's eyes widened with surprise."What is going on out there?" she asked, stunned by the revelation.  "Does it hurt?  And how did you get into a fight?" Betty asked her questions coming out as quicky as they sprang to mind.

Donna waived her hand dismissively: "I'm fine, don't..." *COUGH* *COUGH* </orange><orange>"Don't worry about it."

Giving her student one last look of concern, Betty returned to the front of the class to turn on the CD and her microphone and begin her class.  She cast glances at her coughing student from time to time, ready to assist her should she prove to be in more distress than she was acknowledging.

The lesson continued for about half an hour, with Donna's cough becoming more and more insistent, Betty more and more concerned, and Donna more and more dismissive.

Eventually, Donna had a fit that laster much longer than the others: midway through protesting that she was fine, she fell to the ground and lost consciousness.

"Doctor!" Betty pointed to her unconcious student as her hand smacked the power button of the studio's sound system.  Not bothering to search out her first aid kit from her bag, Betty just scooped the whole thing up and sprinted the few strides across the floor to where Donna lay.

"Someone go to the desk and have them call 911, tell them we have an unconcious woman who was having difficulty breathing and come back and tell me what they said," Betty directed, her eyes meeting the small crowd beginning to surround the fallen student.  "Hurry" she urged before turning her attention back to her patient.

While Andy bolted for the desk, Tony was right next to Betty, checking Donna's heartbeat: "Pulse is weak and rapid. Make room ladies, let her breathe! Someone bring me my jacket."

The jacket was promptly brought by Sandy. Tony retrieved a pen flashlight from a pocket, and shone it in Donna's eyes. "Pupillary reflexes normal." He reported donna's condition in a steady, busnesslike tone.

Donna's breathing became deeper, and raucous, as if she was snoring.

"Stertorous breathing, pulse slowing down and weakening. If the ambulance isn't here within ten minutes, it won't matter if they take an hour."

Seconds became minutes, but finally Andy came back: "911 is not answering... Looks like the lines are down."
This message was last edited by the player at 10:43, Tue 03 Mar 2009.

Tony frowned: "Great... Betty, I don't suppose you have an emergency room on site?"

Taking Donna anywhere was going to prove problematic: not only was Donna definitely on the heavy side, but by then traffic was normally starting to peak.

"I dont' know where we can take her," Betty remarked her mind racing in thought as she knelt next to the doctor.  "Do you think the blow to the head from that punch is what's causing this?" she gestured to the woman's unconcious form.

Tony nodded: "The symptom seem consistent with a head trauma, although without any tests that's an educated guess at best. Not that a diagnosis helps her any, if we can't get her a neurosurgeon and an equipped O.R." He cursed under his breath: "Any ideas?"

Right then, Donna stopped breathing.

"Oh no;" Betty exclaimed with some anxiety.  "I'll get a breath mask from pool." she declared, rising from the hardwood floor and sprinting out the door and down the length of the hall to seize the large first aid kit in the health club's pool office.  It was only a few seconds that she returned, her breath a little quicker with the sudden exertion of her sprint.  "Here it is," she declared, having unsnapped the steel box and pulled the clear plastic mask from the inards of the box.

ooc:  http://www.wholesale-direct-fi...mages/M-573-AMBU.gif

Anton checked Donna's pulse again: by the time Betty got back with the mask, she no longer has one: "I just lost her pulse. Give me a hand..."

He and Betty set out to perform CPR. Despite he presence of a doctor and a trained nurse on the premises, it was clear that Donna's hopes were scarce at best...

Long minutes of valiant efforts, and several more failed attempts to call for help later, Anton sighed and looked at his wrist watch: "Time of death: ten twenty-four. I'm sorry, Donna."

After asking the remainder of the class to leave the studio and for one of them to fetch the club's general manager, Betty's heart nearly stopped at the sound of moaning from the woman so recently pronounced dead.

"Donna?" Betty questioned tentatively, her eyes fluttering with a mixture of disbelief, hope and relief.

"Betty stay away from her!" Suddenly, Anton's tone was sharp and alert.

He approached the woman warily: "Donna? Can you hear me?"

More moans came from what he had pronounced a dead body scant minutes earlier. "Donna what's my name?"

"What?..." Betty asked, edging only a step closer the wave of the doctor's hand enough to keep her cautious, the tone of his voice reinforcing it.  "What's happening?" she asked her eyes wide with disbeilef.  She looked over at the figure of Donna not quite comprehending what was happening but feelign the little hairs on the back of her neck beginning to stand on end in warning.