What is the process of decomissioning and MRI machine, such as what are the technical circumstances of why one would be decomissioned one or have it removed from the medical facility? and when is the last day of patient usage if something like this were to occur? I know it's a weird question but more novel research. I hope you don't mind :)
I'm writing a novel involving a fictional medical imaging facility and I wanted to know what process of decomissioning and MRI machine, such as what are the technical circumstances of why one would be decomissioned or removed from the medical facility, the logistical process of it, such as last day of patient usage, how field technicians may be involved. Not sure if this is the right space, but I thought I try, or would the field service engineer be responsible for decommissioning the equipment?
So I asked the following question in a writer's research subreddit, where people ask questions to improve the accuracy of their creative writing in various areas (from crime, to culture, to legal issues, etc). This was the question I asked:
How would my female protagonist keep herself from being shanked fatally by the knife-wielding antagonist if he slams her up against the door and she only has one good-working arm (the other being immoblized from him stabbing her earlier). I'm still working on the final scene where she lures him into the MRI room to stop him, but I want her to still be immobile enough to get through the door and crawl into the scanner room to lure him, even if she is bleeding and hurt at this point. I'm not familiar with knife fights and I know that holding his wrist (with the knife) isn't realistic. Yes, I know I'm asking again, but the information I'm getting on here is helping me to rethink and reshape my scenes :)
It was implied by moderators I was trying to get people to write my story (a violation of one of the rules), which I wasn't. I was literally asking to ensure what I had was realistic, and based on answers, I would just rewrite the scene. I have posted numerous times on this subreddit and I wasn't removed before, so what was so different about this post that the moderators felt they had to remove it? Was I in the wrong? Or were they being picky? I'm really discouraged as I was using this subreddit as research so I could write better.
If I'm wrong, tell me, but please be nice, I don't take harsh and snarky commnts very well.
Hey guys, I'm writing a thriller novel where my protagonit is an MRI technologist and I wanted to add realism to her chacter in terms of her schooling/education.
so in my original draft, I have that she attended university, originally intending to go as pre-med, but decided to pursue radiology because she loved both anatomy and x-ray, and she later gets trained to do MRI. Would this be a realistic portrayal and what degree could she earn in college that could be applied both to radiology studies and pre-med?
In addition I have that her parents were fairly disappointed in her because she didn't become a doctor and chose this route instead. Is that something that could be realistic? Could she face bias becuase she didn't go into premed by colleages? I was just wondering, and I hope this offensive or that it's OK for posting.
Thank you so much!
So as some of you know, I am writing a suspense thriller where the protagonist is an MRI tech. I still want to build the character and the environment, and I'd like to get a touch of more realism. Do any of you have any anecdotes you'd like to share from your career as a technologist (or even as MRSO, or radiologist, etc), stories that you comfortable sharing with (and dont violate HIPPA laws, lol). you can share the good, the bad, the ugly, the funny, the disgusting. I know it's late in the asking, but, I'd like to hear it 😄
In my story, the protagonist moves to California from Nevada when her abusive ex boyfriend is put in jail for assault (against her) and state larceny, only he is released nearly three years later on parole, and he plans to exact revenge on the protagonist and several other people. I have a few other questions (hopefully I haven't asked these before) but here it goes
--I was told that parolees are geneally notified, or made aware that their victims know of their release. if this is the case, how does this help the victim (in this case, my protagonist?) and in general, does the parolee also know where the victim or victims live?
--Now the leads to the second question. If my protagonist moved to get away from him while he was in jail, would my parolee have been informed of her moving out of state by authorities, or would he have to figure it out? Here're one thing I'm playing with: when the MC moved out of state, she scrubbed all social media, phone number and emails so that he wouldn't track her, and the only people who know where she moved is her aunt her sister and the DA's office. So would the DA office have to give the parole information about where she moved?
I hope these are stupid question, but I just wanted to know for the purposes of addressing any plotholes in the story. Thank you so much!
I know this is a really stupid question, but where do I go on Google to turn off the AI mode, that is, so Gemini doesn't answer search questions? Is it a possible to even do regular internet search without involving chatgpt algorithim?
In the climax scene, my protagonist is facing off with her ex-boyfriend/abuser, who has tracked her down and is trying to kill her inside a medical imaging facility, and she ultimately lures him the MRI room where he's pulled to the machine because he's wearing metal. What would be a reason why she feels she has no choice to but go here to stop him? And how would I explain why she didn't choose to escape through the emergency exit first? so far I have that she tried to escape, but the emergency exit locked, and that he had already injured her, and that, while trying to figure how to stop him and get away the idea of luring him to the MRI room just came to her. Would that be enough?
What would be a plausible reason an emergency exit would fail to open at a medical imaging facility? I have it that my protagonist, who is ambushed by her abusive ex-boyfriend, manages to knee him the groin and make an attempt to escap the building through the emergency exit, only the door fails to open. what would be a reason for this? Or should I just get rid of this part of the scene and think of something else?
In my novel, the protagonist's ex-boyfriend is release from Nevada prison on early parole, only she doesn't learn about this until a week later. She had moved to another state, and her aunt (who still resided in Nevada) kept in touch with the DA and passed on communication to the protagonist. Wat would be a plausible reason why the DA failed to notifiy the family that the antagonist had been released from parole a week earlier?
When Tonya returned to the hospital that Wednesday, she’d gotten a request to see Karen and she now walked into her office, anxiety riddling her body. It hadn’t been that long since Tonya had received the write-up because of Derrick’s x-ray breach. What would Karen Mendoza think of her now?
“How’s the wrist?” Karen pointed to the cast.
“It hurts,” Tonya said. “It’s hard keeping it stabilized, but I’m doing it.”
“A TFCC tear?” Karen asked. “From falling on the pavement?”
She nodded.
“It sounds more like something you’d get if someone yanked or twisted it.”
No response.
“Do you think you can still work the floor?”
“Yes, I can. I can do computer work; I can use my good arm. Carlos once told me he worked x-ray with a broken thumb,” Tonya told her. “As far as moving the machine or portable, I can get a runner to do those duties, but I will be on my game.”
“Runners aren’t always available, especially when the ER is swamped.”
“I know.”
Karen tapped her pen in thought.
Tonya cleared her throat. “Karen, are you letting me go after all?”
Karen looked up, eyes wide. “What? No…” she said. “I’m approving your request to cross train in MRI.”
“What?” Tonya sat up, a slight smile sneaking across her face. “But what about the disciplinary action?”
“It’s removed. Derrick Jackson was in complete breach without your knowledge, according to security,” she paused. “Now, you’ll still be helping in x-ray, but you’ll primarily cross train under Jonathan Vu in MRI doing light duty work, mostly patient screening at the computer, shadowing Jonathan during scan sequences and fact-checking internal devices. When your wrist heals, Jonathan will start you on actual patient positioning. You start with Jonathan tonight. He’s actually expecting you.”
No firing? No scolding? She sat there, stunned.
“That’s what you wanted, right?”
“Yes, yes, of course. I just…I didn’t expect….” an excited chuckle escaped her lips. “Thank you, thank you, thank you so much.”
She turned and headed out the door.
“Tonya?”
She turned to Karen.
“You said you injured your wrist tripping in the parking lot? But I don’t buy that for a minute,” Karen said.
Tonya turned to her but didn’t say anything. She just left, embarrassed.
I'm writing a novel where the antagonist is released from a Nevada prison three years in to a six-year sentence. He was in jail for state larcency, domestic battery and theft, as he pleaded guilty to get a lesser charge. In the story, he plots to take revenge on the people he feels "wronged" him, including his ex-girlfriend who now resides in northern california. What would be a plausible reason he'd be released so soon? Also, how realistic could it be if he crosses state lines, even if he is violating parole, like how would he do this without immediately being noticed?
Tell me what you think -- a little violent but is proposed ending of a novel.
“I’m going to kill you, witch,” he sneered, his eyes soulless and dark. “I’m the last person you’ll see.”
She gasped when he said this, and he smiled gleefully, scraping the knife across her painfully bleeding nose and then licking the blood-stained knife with a chuckle.
Gross, but his gloating switched something in Tonya's mind, and she mentally shoved the pain away, replacing it adrenaline-fueled resolve to survive, and if necessary, to fight.
Yes, fight, the small voice echoed in her soul*. You’ll survive this*.
Now she focused on him because she proprioceptively knew her right leg was between his legs, right in that perfect spot—
—she rammed her knee into his groin. Hard.
Derrick doubled over in pain, releasing her, and Tonya shoved him back fiercely, turning and dashing for the emergency exit. But when she slammed into the door, it held firm, despite pushing the bar handle.
What the—
Tonya threw her weight into the door again. But it didn’t budge. No! No! Not this again! She jumped backward, panning the area quickly for another way---
Derrick crashed into her from her left, and they both hit the floor with a FLOP!
Tonya screamed, kicking at him as Derrick shoved her onto her back.
She screamed again and jerked right violently when he drove the knife at her chest. The knife sliced her left ribcage muscles instead, narrowly missing her lungs.
He jerked the knife upward and she flung her arms up expediently, trying desperately to block his knife blows and taking cuts to her arms even as she tried to squirm away.
He managed to plow the knife into her right front deltoid, ripping muscle and tendon. She screamed again.
“Damn, hold still!” he shouted and yanked the knife out of her flesh. He brought the knife down again----
---a broomstick smashed into his arm, throwing his aim and balance off, and he fell over her legs. Tonya pushed herself away with her heels, pain shooting through her arm. She watched the person bring the broomstick down on Derrick again, whacking him across his back as he cursed.
Marisa!
Tonya staggered to her feet as Marisa lifted the broomstick a third time. But Derrick swiftly kicked Marisa’s left leg out from underneath her. She fell backward on her right side, the broomstick flying out of her hand.
“NO!” Tonya rushed forward just as Derrick pounced on Marisa and plunged the knife into her abdomen. “NO!”
He raised the knife to stab Marisa again, his backside to Tonya and his private area vulnerable once more.
Tonay drove her right foot right between his legs into his jewels with a vicious kick.
He gasped loudly, falling to the side, now clutching his groin in agony even as he still held the knife, his face contorted in agony. Tonya rushed forward to grab the broomstick with both hands, but pain ripped through her front shoulder and down her arm, causing her right arm to seize up and drop the stick.
“Darnit!” she shrieked, doubling over in pain from the arm, and the nose.
In her peripheral she saw Derrick pulling himself to his knees, still holding his groin fiercely, but slowly gaining strength---
Panicked, she scanned the area, holding on to her useless right arm with her left hand. Marisa lay crumpled in a ball, possibly dead. Frank, further down to her left, also lay motionless and most likely dead. She glanced at the useless emergency exit across from her, then further down the hall to her right toward the MRI suite, then back to Derrick who now staggered to his feet---
--Wait a minute.
The MRI suite.
The stainless-steel chain around his neck.
His iron belt buckle.
That stupid knife he’s holding.
Steel. Ferromagnetic.
A walking magnet attraction.
You know what to do, the small voice said.
“OK, Jesus,” she muttered to the Lord. “Let’s do it.”
“Holy glory, hallelujah, skank! What’s your God gonna do?!” He screamed, hearing her mumble this. He stood fully upright now, the pain in his groin now dissipated, fury in his eyes.
And with that, Tonya pivoted and sprinted toward the suite.
He charged right after her.
Running, she grabbed her badge from her scrub’s pants with the left hand. Lord, let this work!
“Police! Help us!” Marisa screamed from behind, her voice echoed through the hallway. Wait, she’s alive!
She heard Derrick’s footsteps fall behind as a result. A rouse!
Tonya ran faster, gaining some ground, finally crashing into the control room door of Zone III and simultaneously slapping the badge against the panel– beep!
Derrick, cursing closed the gap behind her.
She scampered into the control room, badging the panel to the RF-shielding door and throwing her left side into it, pushing the heavy door with all her weight as Derric’s heavy footsteps rushed up behind her.
The door gave way and she burst into the scanner room, the thump-hiss of the machine greeting her---
Suddenly, Derrick drove the knife into her upper right back with a shhk sound, searing muscle and dermis, and possibly her lung. She shrieked, pulling herself downward and onto her knees, the knife sliding out of her*. Just get him to the projectile line*
Tonya dragged herself, desperately using her one good arm and her knees, toward the scanner -- past the 9-gauss line.
Almost there–
Derrick clamored after her, snatching the cloth of her tank top from the back, but unable to hold the knife steady because the magnetic force began pulling it, but he ignored this phenomena, just as he had the warning signs, the thump-hiss of the machine, and the light over the doors that had screamed “DANGER! MAGNET IS ALWAYS ON.”
She pulled herself forward with screaming, despite his grip on her clothing, finally falling against the gantry next to the scanner bed, well within the missile projectile effect area.
Now clutching the knife with all his strength, with clear view to deliver a fatal stab, Derrick lunged forward to jam the knife into her.
--while she simultaneously dove to the right rapidly, crashing to the ground on her already-injured right arm and shoulder, escaping Derrick’s aim —
—just as the invisible force ripped the knife out of Derrick’s grip violently at 40 miles per hour.
“What th—”
CLANG! CLANG!
---and the torque of this motion, coupled with his arm and leg already in motion, carried Derrick forward, and before he could stop himself, the magnetic force snatched his metal chain and belt buckle, yanking the items, and the rest of him, toward the bore—
“AAAAH SHIIII—”
TWHUUUMP! THWUMP!
BANG! CLANG!
Silence.
Well, except for the thump-hiss, or the heartbeat of the magnet.
Tonya lay on the floor, her back against the gantry, her right arm and shoulder screaming in pain, and Derrick’s heavy legs on top of her as he groaned and struggled above. He tried to move, but couldn't.
But she could, painfully, but still…
She used her left hand to pull herself forward, groaning as she used her feet to push herself off the gantry wall at the bottom and out from under Derrick’s dangling legs. It was a miracle she hadn’t been pinned by his weight.
When she pulled herself to a kneeling position, she looked down at her arms gasping. Blood decorated her arms and her grey tank top. Her right arm hung awkwardly limp. Her back felt wet and she knew that to be blood also. Forget about that right now. Grabbing the scanner bed’s edge with her left hand, she hoisted herself into a standing position on shaky legs, forcing herself to turn toward the gantry.
Her jaw dropped.
Derrick resembled a broken action figure toy that had been thrown against a jagged corner. His right arm twisted upward against the bore’s inside, his head hung awkwardly to the left and downward, his other arm was crushed under his chest, and his bottom half occasionally twitched, slapping against the gantry. The butterfly knife rested somewhere in the back of the machine at the isocenter, but Derrick’s necklace chain and belt buckle kept him fused to the bore and gantry, trying desperately to meet up with the isocenter as well, relentlessly pulling at his body in the process.
Holy. Crap.
The physics worked.
I changed up the final scene between my protagonist and the knife-wielding bad guy. If he stabs he rin the upper right shoulder near the deltoid while she's trying to fight him off, will that immobilize her arm? Would she still be able to move around (as far as running or kicking him) on adrenaline even as her right arm is imcapacitated?
He will also managed to stab her in the back, again, closer to the upper right back (as she was pushing herself through the RF shielding door using her left side) and he stappers once more in the upper right area, but this time stabbing her from the back and piercing the lung. is this realistic? Or is she automatically down? I have it that she has one more burst of energy to stop him before the pneumothorax starts to take over -- or should I go with another injury?
Hey everyone,
So, as you know, I'm writing a drama-thriller where the protagonist is an MRI technologist, and I have received so much helpful information from those who have responded to my prior posts (thank you!). I've also drafted an unorthodox ending and wanted to know what you thought of it, and how to make it more realistic (not so Hollywoodish).
The ending would involve the protagonist's abusive ex boyfriend, upon being released from prison, attacking her at her job (she works at an outpatient imaging facility). When he's trying to kill her using a knife, she lures him into the MRI room to stop him, and he gets pulled to machine in the process. Yeah, I know, unorthodox. I tried to write a scene that doesn't come off as another "Final Destination" sucked-from-across-the-room monstrosity, and I wanted to know if I could send it over to get your opinion on it, or what I could do to make it more realistic. I also had additional questions, such as what is the likelihood of someone chasing a person into a scanner room of an outpatient clinic? (it happens just after closing time and security is unhelpful), or what are the ramifications for the protagonist (as an emergency quench will have to be performed)?
P.S I know MRI safety is a serious thing, and this is also emphasized in the novel as well. Again thank you for any insight you could give!
Hey guys, thank you so much for your insight! So based on input from this reddit, and also from Quora, I'm changing up the scene to make it more realistic. Now I do have that, before she runs away, he had yanked her to him and held the knife to her after kicking her in the face, and as he's taunting her, she knees him in the groin several times, causes him to recoil in pain, allowing her to shove him down and run away. Is this plausible? or would he still be able to knife her in the throat? And if she's running and he pursues her, how fast would he catch up?
One other thing, is this possible if she's been kicked in the face and has a broken/bloody nose?
Thank you guys so much for your advice on how to shape this final scene! So I will have to remove the idea of her holding him off with a previously injured wrist and he's got a bayonet. Not going to work. But, I've always had this scene written out and I still want to know if it's realistic, even though it is going to be quite unorthodox. In the final scene the protagonist is able to stop the killer by lowering him into the MRI scanner room and he is laying with metal. What would be a realistic portrayal of this if he is wielding a knife? Could she run into the scan room and somehow lure him? Would that be enough Force? And could I have it that he does stab her but she's able to use the last of her adrenaline to lure him into the room? The antagonist will not only have a bayonet knife, but he would be wearing metal chains and a metal belt and a smaller pocket knife in his jeans. And if he outweighs her by 60 lb what injuries would she sustain in the process?
In my novel, my protagonist is being attacked by the bad guy in the diagnostic medical facility where she works (It's just after closing time when he attacks). He is wielding a bayonet. Are there any self defensive moves she can use if he outweighs her by sixty pounds? What if she herself has done weight training (deadlifting) and has done physio work on her wrists from an tear he'd inflicted three years before? is there a way she could fight him off without it being too unrealistic, but enough where he does inflict injury, (Ie, pneumothorax), but in a way where she could still put up some type of fight due to adrenaline?
I'm new to this group, so I hope I correctly posted according to rules. Tell me what you think.
XXX
The red had risen again, and this time he took off the hoodie and tossed it aside. When was he going to get into this place? He’d gotten out of the car, walking over to the locked lobby door. Inside darkness enveloped the place, and except for distant lights behind the reception area, there was no indication of life.
Wasn’t Tonya in there? There were three or four cars in the lot, but the building appeared silent and closed. So the skank wasn’t coming out. He’d have to go in.
Derrick cursed, slipping back into the shadows as he darted back to the Kia Forte stealthily. Headlights approached and he crouched low. When he had initially arrived, Derrick noticed a patrol car cruising the lot, and he had parked the Kia across the street. Now he watched the security cruiser do a perimeter search once more. The driver, whoever he was, didn’t see him, and the patrol car eventually pulled out of the parking lot and drove away.
Good.
Derrick darted across the street and hid behind a bush near the building’s side entrance. In another minute he saw the door open. A slightly chubby Latina with long wavy hair, carrying bags and a badge, stepped out, adjusting her things mid-way through.
He made his move. She never saw him coming. A swift punch in the face, a knife stab into flesh, a snatching of the badge, and he had slipped through the door, now inside the center.
Time to find the skank.
**XXX**
It had taken another 10 minutes or so before Tonya completed Frank Mancusio’s scan, Twenty two minutes. Not bad.
Now she removed Frank from the scanner and helped him get up. “How are you?”
“I’m good, not as bad as I thought, though I felt a bit twitchy,” he said.
“Peripheral nerve stimulation. Sometimes that happens because of magnetism, but that goes away.”
As they headed for the pre-screening room Frank asked, “Well? How’s my brain? Did it look…you know….cancerous?”
“I can’t give a diagnosis. The radiologist will give the final determination and your doctor will contact you.”
He looked down.
“The scan looks good though,” she said. “Remember what you said? God is in control.”
“Exactly,” he grinned. “I have to take my own advice. That’s it?”
“That’s it. Just get dressed and I’ll get you to let you out in a few minutes.”
“OK.”
Frank headed back to the changing area and Tonya back into the control room, where she uploaded the results into PACS under his profile, and then she started to —
–wait, was that a yell?
No, just her imagination. She finished emailing the results to Dr. Gupta with a couple of clicks.
The control room phone rang loudly and she jumped. She reached over and picked it up.
“Cold silver–” Marisa’s voice was strained and terrified. “Get out…”
Tonya’s heart stopped.
Code Silver. Someone inside with a weapon.
No. It couldn’t, it couldn’t–
Wait. Frank!
She dropped the phone and charged for the changing area down the short corridor, the control door closing behind.
But she halted abruptly, shrieking. Oh…no..
Derrick stood right in front of her. Heavy baggy jeans held up with an iron belt, a white tank top stained with someone’s blood, and a couple of metal chains looped around his neck.
And Derrick held a bayonet to Frank Mancuso’s neck.
Tonya gasped, heart pounding, watching as Frank struggled under Derrick’s grip, his eyes wide with horror and his pants hanging halfway off his hips as Derrick had ambushed him in the changing room abruptly.
The bayonet, obviously from Derrick’s knife collection, had blood on it – not Frank’s.
Marisa?
“What’s up boo?” Derrick hissed wickedly, pulling on Frank. “Did you miss me? Huh?”
Tonya blinked. I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming—
“Did you?!” he roared, and she jumped.
No. No. No. It’s real. He found me.
“Answer me witch!” he shouted angrily,
Coax him. Calm him. She closed her eyes, heart pounding. No. It didn’t work–
Stop. This is the moment to face this. Lord, I need your help.
She opened her eyes and let out a breath. “What are you doing here?”
“You witch! I always know where you are!” He screamed.
She looked at Frank briefly and then Derrick.
“Let him go,” she said coolly.
“Shut-up skank!”
“Let him go, Derrick!” she inched forward fists clinched.
“YOU PUT ME IN JAIL, YOU SKANK!”
“And you raped me! You almost killed me!” Tonya focused on him, eyes zeroed in. “You put yourself in jail, not me! Let him go now!”
He flinched, eyes wide, surprised at her boldness, heck she surprised herself, and he momentarily lowered his arm.
But then, when Frank tried to move again, Derrick twisted him back and slashed Frank’s neck.
Tonya slammed Derrick hard against the frame of a changing cubicle, so unexpectedly.
She found herself on her knees, yanking off her scrubs top and jamming it into Frank’s neck. “Stay with me,” she took his hand and he held hers. Keep him calm. “Stay with me, Frank.” She flashed an angry look at Derrick, who had stumbled to his feet and stared at her, incredulous.
Suddenly, something smashed into Tonya’s nose, hard. She fell back, momentary pain and blinding light piercing her nasal cavity and shooting upward. Stinging tears blotted her vision. Tonya shook her head. Pain. Eyes popped open.
Derrick towered over her, eyes black with intense rage. He raised his foot to kick her again.
On instinct she threw herself backward, rolling and staggering to his feet as his leg caught air, narrowly missing her. But he quickly seized her by her African braids and yanked her toward his face violently. Now eyeball-to-eyeball, he held her tightly with his free hand as he scraped the knife across her bleeding nose and then licked the blood-stained bayonet in anticipation. Fear swept over her.
“I’mma kill you slowly, witch,” he laughed angrily, his eyes dark and soulless.
“W-who are you?” Tonya asked now.
Derrick just smirked. “I’m the last person you’ll see.”
His retort, meant to cement the fear, switched something on in her mind instead.
The return of resolve, and a reckoning to fight.
Yes, fight, the small voice echoed in her soul. You can fight.
“We’ll see about that,” she said suddenly, calmly—
—and she quickly rammed her knee into his groin. Hard.
He doubled over in pain, letting go of her hair, and Tonya shoved him back.
But Derrick, still holding the knife, slashed it at her, its blade slicing her front arm just as she jumped back — and lost her footing.
She fell backward as Derrick pounced on her, bayonet arched..
Tonya rapidly threw her body sideways.
The blade struck the floor, tearing through her grey tank top – but only nicking skin.
She staggered to her feet, blindly running toward the direction she’d come. He flew into her like a linebacker, and they both slammed into the ground like bowling pins.
Yelping, Tonya rolled herself out from under him, stumbling to her feet just as Derrick slashed her right calf with the bayonet.
Ouch! Her knees buckled, but before he could plunge the knife into her, she drove her left foot upward, with adrenaline-driven energy, fast and hard, catching his knife-welding hand.
The knife flew out of his grip.
She twisted around to grab the knife, but he reached it first.
Oh no! She stumbled backward as he lunged the knife at her, but she found herself catching his wrist mid-air with both hands, bracing hard in the core and kicking his shins with one leg as he shoveled her forward, her grip still strong around his arm.
They fell against a wall and he pushed the knife at her, closing space, and cutting skins near shoulder, but somehow, by some miracle, her grip remained firm, keeping his arm from plunging the blade in deeper, using adrenaline-fueled strength. She twisted his wrist now, grunting.
He head-butted her.
Oww. Stars. Tonya jerked back, her grip loosening as she fell against the wall.
But before Derrick could plow the knife into her, foreign hand seized his head from behind, jabbing fingers into his eyes and yanking his head back fiercely.
Derrick screamed, loosening his grip on Tonya.
She lurched forward to seize the knife.
But Derrick threw his weight backward into the person who had grabbed him, twisting away from Tonya as he and the woman hit the ground.
Marisa.
Derrick twisted around and plowed the knife into Marisa’s right side.
“GET OFF OF HER!” Tonya screamed, throwing herself into him. They crashed into the ground, rolling away from Marisa.
Derrick, his eyes red and bloodshot, lurched forward and grabbed at Tonya blindly, but she squirmed quickly out from underneath him and staggered backward.
He charged for her, still blinded by the eye-gouging but waving the knife at her.
She caught his arm again before he could stab her, driving her feet into the ground and he pushed the knife at her. “WITCH!” he roared at her, his face so close, his liquor-laden breath hot on her cheeks. She screamed, straining her core muscles as she pushed his knife-wielding arm away from her abdomen, but his weight drove her backward, her feet sliding across the linoleum floor.
No no no no no—
“OH, JESUS, HEELP!” She gasped.
“Holy glory, hallelujah, skank! What’s your God gonna do?!” He taunted now, slamming her up against the closed control room door, even as she still held his arm away from her, though losing strength —
Wait a minute. The control room.
Zone III.
The metal chains around his neck.
The bayonet.
Also steel. Ferromagnetic.
His pants belt. A magnet attraction.
Behind me—
On her right, her badge still hooked on her scrubs pants. Can’t reach it. He’ll stab me. Lord. I need a —
“Police! Help! Grab him quick!” Marisa screamed so loudly, her voice vibrated through the hallway.
Derrick jerked his head over his shoulder –
Tonya drove her knee into his groin once more, and he doubled over, stumbling backward.
Now!
Tonya grabbed her badge and slapped it against the panel box – beep – throwing herself into the control room.
Enraged, Derrick caught the door, and pulled himself through the entry, tumbling into the control room after her.
But she had already badged the other panel, and was stumbling through the RF-shielding doorway into the scanner room–.
Derrick plunged the bayonet into her back with a shhk sound, searing muscle and dermis. Tonya shrieked, crashing to the ground inside the inside the scanner room–
—No, not yet!
With a final adrenaline burst, she haphazardly rolled herself away from Derrick and clamored toward the scanner on all fours – past the 5 gauss line first.
Death grip on the bloodied knife, Derrick stormed after her further in, obviously oblivious to the warning signs, the thump-hiss of the machine, or the light over the doors that had screamed “MAGNET ALWAYS ON.”
She had collapsed against the gantry next to the scanner bed, well within the missile projectile effect area, He lunged for her, knife raised, ready to finish her off, and Tonya, knowing what was coming threw her body to the right—
—just as an invisible force, like merciless claws, seized the knife, violently yanking Derrick forward —
“AAAAH SHIIII—”
TWHUUUMP! THWUMP!
CLANG! CLANG! BANG! CLANG!
Silence.
Well, except for the ongoing heartbeat of the magnet.
XXX
Tonya lay on the floor against the gantry, the weight of Derrick’s legs resting on top of her from where he’d slammed into the machine above her. He groaned above her. She pushed herself forward onto her left side, using her left arm to pull herself out from under his legs and away from the scanner, pain shooting through her right shoulder and back. When she painstakingly pulled herself to one knee, she looked down at herself and gasped. Blood. Blood decorated tank top and her arms. Her back felt wet and she knew that to be blood also.
Forget about that right now. Grabbing the scanner bed’s edge with her left hand, she pulled herself into a standing position, wincing at the painful twinge piercing her right calf. She turned toward the gantry and her jaw dropped.
Derrick resembled a flattened spider smashed against a wall. The magnetic force had seized his bayonet, but because of his death-grip, Derrick had lurched forward, smacking head-first against the machine’s bore and gantry. The torque snapped his head back and dislocated his shoulder in the process, and his necklace chains and metal belt, also pulled forward by the magnet, fused him to the machine as they tried to pull themselves through his body to meet up with the isocenter. Finally, blood seeped through his pants around his right thigh, and Tonya didn’t know if that came from the bayonet or another knife he must have carried in the pocket. He groaned again, his head hanging to the right and downward, his right arm twisted upward and resting against the bore’s inside, and his eyes dancing wildly in horror and pain.
Holy. Crap.
The physics worked.
If this had been a movie, a comeback like “respect the magnet,” would have been witty, but goodness, the sick, jarring site was permanently seared in her mind, and she twisted away so she wouldn’t throw up.
She staggered forward and out of the scanner room, collapsing against the door frame inside the control room.
”I didn’t mean…I’m…sorry….” she gasped, breathing shallow as she winced in pain. Was she apologizing to Derrick? Herself? The scanner? OK hold it together, she thought, composing herself and turning her head to the right.
Marisa was there. She’d managed to limp into the control room, even while bleeding from her right abdomen and her arms, from where he’d stabbed her before. She’d seen the whole thing, and she looked at Tonya now
Tonya painfully reached for the quench button, just near the operator console, to her right.
“Wait –” Marisa grimaced, outstretching a bloodied arm “Wait….helium danger. Nicolas is coming…wait for safety clearance.”
Tonya nodded, taking a short breath. She didn’t want Derrick to die, she just wanted to stop him. But if the helium released into the room, that could also—
Marisa’s legs buckled, nearly dropping her to the floor, but Tonya stumbled forward and caught her with an agonizing grunt, thanks to remaining adrenaline still coursing through her veins. The red patch on Marisa’s side grew a deeper crimson as she held onto Tonya with bloodied arms. Both women, supporting each other, hobbled out of the control room.
Tonya could tell her own injuries had worsened. Her head throbbed from where he headbutted her, blood still leaked out of her nose and onto her tank top, though it slowed somewhat, and more blood from her back clung to her tank top. She had superficial wounds on her arms and hands. Her calf hurt. Her chest even hurt a little, and she couldn’t draw in full breath.
Forget about that. Push through. Get them help.
The women limped through the short corridor and back into the Zone II changing area near the bathrooms. They both sank to the floor, next to Frank Mancusio’s inert body, where the cloth Tonya had packed over his slashed throat had also turned red. She found a few more towels lying nearby, having landed there during her and Derrick’s melee. She grabbed a couple , placing one on Marisa’s abdomen and another on Frank’s neck.
Frank moved a little. Thank goodness, he’s still alive.
Voices. Sirens. Shouting.
“POLICE! FREEZE DON’T MOVE!” Someone screamed above Tonya.
She cowered, arms raised. “I’m…the tech..unarmed!” She had to push the words out with some effort.
Two officers appeared before her. “Where’s the suspect?” one officer asked. His tag read JENSEN.
“There…he’s there…” Tonya pointed down the corridor.
“Marisa! Tonya!” Nicolas yelled breathlessly, charging into view, two paramedics trailing behind him. Nicolas slid to the ground next to the women. Marisa lay on her side, holding the towel to her stomach, and he held his hand on the towel while Jensen and the other officer checked the changing room and bathrooms.
“He stabbed us,” Marisa managed, pointing toward the scanner room with her free hand as an older paramedic knelt beside her.
“Oh my goodness,” Nicolas muttered, cursing. He looked over to Tonya, who pressed the other towel to Frank’s throat. A paramedic came over to help Frank, and Nicolas touched Tonya’s injured face. “Where is he? Where is the bastard?” he asked now, fierce protection and a desire for vengeance shining through.
“It’s OK, he’s down,” Marisa piped up weakly.
“OK, that’s good,” he breathed a sigh of relief, squeezing Marisa’s hand.
“He’s pinned…to the MRI,” Tonya added breathlessly.
“Wait – he’s what?” Nicolas exclaimed, eyes wide and mouth agape.
“You’re saying the suspect’s pinned to the MRI machine?” Jensen asked, having emerged from sweeping the bathrooms. Several other officers headed for the control room.
“Hold it!“ Nicolas jumped up, pulling out his badge. “This is a Zone IV hazard. You have to remove your weapons, anything metal before you go in there. I’m the engineer and MRSO for this facility.”
“Got it,” Jensen said. “Alright everyone, ditch the iron!” To his radio, “Be advised we have a condition alpha here.”
As Nicolas took professional lead with the officers, paramedics had already strapped Marisa and Frank on gurneys. Now a third paramedic began tending to Tonya’s injuries. “Can you stand up?” He asked her.
She nodded.
He helped her to her feet as the battalion chief of the fire crew came in and began coordinating with Nicolas. In a few seconds Tonya found herself outside, sitting on the bumper of an ambulance’s rear, her calf now bandaged, as the paramedic now stabilized her nose and back with a thick bandage and tourniquet. She numbly answered hurried, yet controlled questions about her breathing and pain levels. She heard something about pneumothorax and blood loss. But she could only focus on the garbled mess of a parking lot, littered with police, fire trucks, ambulances, and even a news van.
Goodness, was this her fault? If she hadn’t moved here, Derrick wouldn’t have come in and attacked Frank and Marisa –
–And Carly too! The girl sat on the pavement, bandages around her shoulder, arm, and head, blood droplets peaking through. How much damage had been done? Would Marisa survive? Would Frank? Tonya began crying, the tears stinging her already fractured nose.
“Try to calm down,” the female first responder said. “Slow your breathing.”
“I have…to..make sure they… safe—”
“But, you’re starting to exhibit the first signs of shock.”
Still she ignored her, her mind on the people Derrick hurt. The vicious attack that led to this chaos. The damage to the clinic. The scanner —
—oh shoot! The scanner!
MRI safety and following proper protocol had been ingrained. It was a cornerstone. But now look at what happened! A quench would have to be performed and the magnet destroyed in the process. She was still paying off her school loans from UNLV, for crying out loud. Now this. How much did a refurbished Siemens Magnetom 3T Skyra go for these days?
“Tonya, hey, look at me.” Nicolas appeared before her now, his face etched with lines of worry and concern. She met his gaze, tears cascading.
“Marisa…Frank…” she managed. The air vibrated the injured nasal cavity and her breathing sucked.
“They just got loaded into the ambulance to go to the hospital. They’re going to be OK. Believe it,” he told her.
“The…scanner…”
“Hey, don’t worry about that,” he assured her. “I’ll talk to the director. What matters is you survived,” he stroked her cheek tenderly, professional lines forgotten for the moment. “You have to go to the hospital,” he told her tenderly.
“Not…yet…”
“Tonya…you’re hurt.”
But she shook her head. “Have…to…be professional. We..have…to…”
Nicolas finally obliged, albeit reluctantly. “OK….I already have a fire crew on stand-by. You sure about this? About seeing him again?”
She nodded subtly once more.
A few days ago I posted a question regarding the use of AI as something wrong, even if I used it for research purposes. I thought I was still maintaining literary integrity just using it for research or using it as a "writing coach." I would basically feed my writing samples into AI, ask it to analyze and give me feed back, and any changes it recommended.
Boy was I wrong for doing that. Never again.
I had no idea that AI could bleed into the prose, and some people recognized this almost immediately in my samples. Even specific topics I researched -- in this case medical imaging- -- contained some AI element in it, even if it was a factoid about the subject wrote. People explained to me that AI wasn't really a good tool. It was more of an opinion designed to give me the answer I wanted to hear.
I am humbled, devastated and frustrated. So no I am going through my my drafts, cutting out certain words or phrase that seem "generic" or "AI-ish" so that more of my writing will come through. What's frustrating is that all of the draft was my writing, but apparently the AI served as a skin disease, tainting prose that I actually came up with and masking it as its own.
And worse yet, while many people have been cordial and telling me the devastating truth about AI, I've had some people get snarky with me. I'm not good at hard words or sarcasm. A people pleaser at heart, I break down in tears at one nasty comment compared to 100 nice ones. Yes. I need to grow a pair, but not tonight.
So yes, I committed murder. I used AI. And now, I have to figure out a way to do internet research on topics of interest without it being AI-influenced. That may be difficult. I'd like to ask for tips, but I'm not sure how people will respond. But just wanted to vent about it. I do thank you for telling me the hard cold truth. At least now I know I have to do things the old fashioned way -- dictionaries and thesaurus in paperback instead of computer, getting a Strunk & Write reference book, and using not-so -popular web browsers for research since Google and AI are practically married. Any other areas where I can do my research (other than different sub-reddit groups, videos, or classic books) would be helpful :)