CONSUMPTION's Links
Well, Lowell himself is barely kept sane through his work, diving his hands into corpses all day does wonders to distract from the very likely horrors other doctors may be imposing on other people. He’s no stranger to the theory that it’s the institution’s fault the plague is here, but he moves organs around further, burying his thoughts into the bodies of others. Consumption came to him one day, while he was busying himself to avoid confronting his own thoughts once more. He felt as if he were alone, then the room suddenly filled as if hundreds of dead eyes were on him. He looked up to see the lumbering creature, eyes staring down at him with a profane knowledge. He knew it would speak into him, tell and whisper each and every truth he had tried to quell down; the deaths, his hand in everything, his guilt, his conscience. How he had let his work grow and fester into something gnarled and unholy, festering in his own self and in the self of others, like the mushrooms he had studied so close. He know Consumption could make him feel that, the growing and twisting pain of a fungus bursting from the inside, decomposing and eating you up from the inside, though he knew well it wasn’t the fungus he was feeling now.