Novel & Cerita Regular Show Temp Check

|Author Pov | ..*..*..*... "She is fine now. Her body temperature is normal as well as her breathing rate. Nothing is to be worried, just need proper rest proper food. Don't let her drink any cold and I gave her injection she'll come back to her senses after 4-5 hours. It's better she avoid late night shower. After two or three days she can have her normal daily routine." – Relief washed over Steve as he listened to Dr. Jung-Suk's assessment. The doctor's words were a balm to the anxiety that had gripped him, and he felt a weight lift from his shoulders.

Rico defended as Anna rushed into the room. "His temperature has been high and has refused to come down, I don't want him playing too hard," Anna took the thermometer and checked Riccardo's temperature. "I'm fine now," Riccardo whispered as the thermometer read his temperature. Anna looked at the thermometer and decided to try it again. She fixed the thermometer into his mouth and checked again but his temperature came out normal. "Is this thermometer broken? His temperature was really high a while ago," Anna stared at it, confused.

asked Meazus as he took off his shoes and walked towards Deanna. Deanna bit her lip with a panicked expression. “I think Davina has a fever. Am I wrong?” “Have you checked her temperature?” “Yeah, I have. Her temperature is normal.” Meazus put his hand on Davina's forehead and felt that his daughter had a slight fever. “Maybe there's something wrong with the thermometer.” Meazus tried to take the object Deanna pointed to near the nightstand, then began checking Davina's temperature again. The thermometer said Davina's temperature was 36.3. “I don't trust this thermometer.”

“Here, Ari. You’ve gotta take your temperature.” “Mmmm,” she groans. She holds her hand out and I put the thermometer in it. Eyes still closed, she turns it on, waits for the beep, and sticks it in her mouth. Once it beeps again, she opens one eye and checks her temperature. “98.6,” she says, turning her face back into the pillow. I jot it down on the chart that Dr. Hazel gave us before glancing quickly at the graph. A wicked smirk comes over my face. “Oh, Ari?”

Reed’s reaction was subtle: a fraction of a beat too long before he responded, the way his eyes hung on her just a moment longer, like he was updating her file in his head. I didn’t dwell. I pivoted to Maya’s side, checked the monitor, pressed my palm to her forehead, got the temp by touch before even glancing at the strip. 98.6, called it. I snapped on gloves, unwrapped a fresh alcohol swab, and wiped the IV port while Reed unpacked his tray behind me.

The air in the room was thick with the smell of antiseptic and it made my stomach churn. "The resonance is stabilizing, but her core temp is still 104," a man at a monitor shouted. He was looking at a display of my vitals, and the lines were hazy for me to understand. How long did I pass out for?

He had, but nothing worked. Then I stood. “Alright, Robert. I’d like to check your vitals before we start.” He laid on the treatment cot. I checked his pulse and found it weak but steady. His temperature was 99.8, low fever. His breathing was shallow. When I pressed lightly against his ribs, he winced. “Sorry,” I murmured, “just checking inflammation.” He gave a tight smile. “No problem, Doc. Do what you gotta do.”

“Now.” Minutes later,the assistant returned with everything,handing it over without a word. “Thanks.Leave us,”Adrian said quietly. Alone,Adrian gently coaxed the thermometer between her lips.Her skin was damp with sweat,her breathing uneven. 100.9°F. Not dangerously high,but enough to worry him. He opened the medicine packet,then carefully helped her sit up.Her eyes fluttered open,hazy and unfocused. “You’re back,”she whispered,her voice hoarse and barely audible.

I asked when I came back, holding it up like an offering. She cracked an eye. “Are you about to fight my immune system?” “I like data,” I said. “But only if you want it.” She sighed, the sound of a grown woman making a decision about cheerfulness. “Fine. Left side traitor.” I knelt again, waited until she nodded, then tucked the thermometer under her tongue. While it thought, I sat on the coffee table, close enough without crowding, hands open on my knees like a man who is not here to make anything happen faster. The beep came. Ninety-nine. Not nothing. Not a red flag.

She covered her stunned expression with a smile and hurriedly went over to check Whitney's temperature. She checked the thermometer and noticed her temperature is below 107°c but not as high as Maverick predicted. It's simply lower than the normal temperature a normal human being is supposed to have. “She's having a low-grade fever. This is one of the symptoms of a common cold. But it's nothing serious. She'll be fine,” Ann told Maverick.