(This chapter is dedicated to @Nyhterides also entering ONC for the eighth year  (yay!!) and her darkly tragic story for this year, The Perfects)

In the past, whenever Jiro raised the question of seeking a new Medic for a fresh opinion on his condition, Drew had not been encouraging.

"Of course, if you think it's worth it. Though, you did see the top specialist in myopathy when you were diagnosed. Medic Flynn was quite clear, you have a genetic disorder. You can't cure it, you can only manage the symptoms. I'd be surprised if another Medic could add anything to what you already know. But it's up to you, of course."

Disheartened, Jiro had dropped the idea.

But it had been four years since that devastating diagnosis. Maybe things had changed since then, they were making advances in medicine all the time, weren't they? Perhaps there was a new treatment, even something experimental, that he could sign up for.

So this time, he didn't tell Drew. He simply went ahead and made an appointment. If he did learn anything new, he could always tell Drew afterwards.

Jiro awoke with a good feeling in his stomach. Today was the day he was scheduled to see the new Medic he'd found, a young woman with a practice near the shuttle terminal. Even if she didn't have anything different to tell him about his health, it would be worth the trip just to visit the terminal again and catch up with some friends from his piloting days.

He dressed carefully, in sturdy clothes suitable for walking, instead of his usual comfy caftan. What with working from his study and using the fitness equipment located in the apartment tower, he didn't get out much. He felt his heart lift unexpectedly at the thought of going outside. He promised himself he'd make the effort to fit a daily walk into his schedule from now on.

Lastly, he picked up the small metal flask he'd prepared last night, containing a small amount of his medicine. He hadn't wanted to carry the plasglas bottle around with him, but this sample should be enough for the Medic to examine and tell him whether or not there was something more effective now on the market.

His hand was on the exit panel when he heard Drew, behind him.

"Where are you going?" Drew's voice sounded sharp, and Jiro felt a twinge of resentment. He wasn't a child to be constantly supervised. Sometimes Drew seemed to forget that.

"To the space terminal," answered Jiro, truthfully. "I'm going to catch up with some friends."

"But it's raining. Couldn't you go another day?"

"I'll be fine, Drew. A little rain won't kill me."

"But it might make you sick."

"Then I'll take a hovercar," Jiro said, shortly. He turned to the coat closet and flung open the door. "And if you're really worried, I'll borrow your coat. The one you use for camping. It's waterproof." He pulled the olive green synthsilk coat out of the closet and pulled it on over the top of his shirt and trousers.

"I just worry about you," replied Drew, in more conciliatory tones, reaching out to touch his shoulder.

"I'll be fine. I'll see you later." Jiro was out the door before Drew could delay him any further.

Jiro took a couple of deep breaths to clear his mind as he strode along the moving walkway, ducking his head away from the rain and weaving his way between other pedestrians who were standing in place, content to be carried along.

Luckily, a hovercar cruised up alongside the walkway scouting for customers before he had gone more than a hundred metres, and Jiro hopped in, conceding the rain was heavier than he had thought. He didn't want to arrive for his medical appointment looking like a drowned vingat.

Zipping deftly between the tall towers of apartments and business premises, the 'car got him to his destination thirty minutes early.

Jiro passed his wristcom over the reception panel to announce his arrival and then took a seat in the waiting room. His heart was beating fast with anticipation, but he tried not to get his hopes up too much. The waiting room was simply decorated, pale umber walls gave off a cheerful vibe and the small holo zone placed in the centre of the room showed a series of cute animals and beautiful scenery, nothing stressful in sight. He was the only person in the room and he couldn't help wondering whether this was a good thing or not.

Only a minute later than his appointment time, a panel slid open in the opposite wall and an attractive young woman dressed in Medic gray entered the room, a professional smile on her face.

"Jiro Kaplan?"

"Yes."

"I'm Medic Capro. Come in and tell me what's brought you here today."

Jiro followed her into the clinic room and sat awkwardly on the indicated chair.

"I've got genetic myopathy. I've had it for four years now and I thought it was time for a review, to see if there's any new treatment, or anything that could help me live a normal life."

Jiro couldn't be certain, but he thought he saw her left eyebrow rise, just a fraction. Her voice, however, was quite calm.

"I see. Can you start at the beginning? Tell me what's happened so far."

Jiro spoke for the next ten minutes, recounting as much as he could think of, describing the symptoms, the diagnosis and the treatment as well as the devastating impact the illness had on his life.

Medic Capro waited until he'd begun repeating himself before speaking. "Well, let's see what we can do, shall we? I'm going to start with a simple blood test and then we'll take it from there."

Jiro held out his arm while she took the sample and waited for the scanner to provide an analysis.

"Oh," Jiro remembered his medicine sample. "I've got this for you to check as well. I've forgotten the technical name but it's the only thing that seems to help when I'm sick. My brother gets it for me, from the pharmacy near his work."

"Very good. I'll scan that too." She poured a few drops of the sample into a second device.

Medic Capro examined both devices carefully, then frowned. She looked puzzled by the results. "That can't be right," she muttered under her breath.

(Word count so far, not including any Author's Notes, 2264 - whoo hoo! First Milestone reached!!)