The Clinical Repairman

It’s the day Doug hates; his yearly tune up. It’s not painful or anything, it’s the med-shop. It’s such an awkward, rough environment that reminds him of the accident and what he lost. Granted through the miracle of this modern technology, Doug was able to walk again after being a double-amputee, but after the novelty wore off, he felt like a stranger in his own body at times and the med shop was just a reminder of that.

He showed up a couple of minutes late to his appointment. Before he even had a chance to sit down, the Medchanic, reeking of nico-stims, was already giving him a hard time about both his timing and how poorly he’d taken care of his robosthetics. Without warning, the Medchanic took a spanner to the bio-bolt just about where Doug’s left knee would have been. This was the part Doug hated the most.

Watching his legs be unceremoniously ripped off and hauled to a work bench, Doug had no choice but to sit there for 45 minutes while the Medchanic and his apprentice ran their tests and tuned parts of the legs Doug would never understand. Doug could only sit there and feel his desire to swing his legs back and forth fall on the nervous equivalent of deaf ears.

As the apprentice tightened the last bio-bolt, the Medchanic slapped Doug’s calf like he was a thoroughbred and declared “There, good as new!” Doug rang through his bill, grabbing the receipt for his insurance, and walked out of the shop as he cursed under his breath. He grumbled and groaned about the experience as he strode down the street, pausing to notice how smoothly his gait felt after the tune-up. ‘At least they did one thing right,’ he thought.


  • How might care roles and responsibilities be distributed differently in the future?
  • How will traditional health system players work with non-traditional roles like the Medchanic?
  • What are the risks of increasingly democratized care and delivery?

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