heathaldoretti-blog
Heath Aldoretti
As those who study them have come to learn, bones make good witnesses - although they speak softly, they never lie and they never forget.
-Dr. Clyde Collins Snow
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dylansutton:
“What’s gonna happen, he’ll lose his leg?” she asked him with a wrinkle of her nose before she looked him over and then sighed. “How about you tag along because there’s no way I can drag him out on the curb and keep him busy long enough for an ambulance to get here.”
“Depends. If he’s lucky, it’ll just be the toe but if the infection has spread to his bone, it’ll be the whole leg or worse.” Heath continued speaking as if the man wasn’t paying attention. “Yeah, sure.” He tapped the man’s shoulder and pointed towards the door as a guide. “You spend a lot of time on medical rescue mission or is this a first?”
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renata-ortiz:
Renata was positive that she wasn’t the only one who thought his job was fascinating and she suddenly felt like an annoying burden interrupting his day. She nodded and maintained eye contact as she listened to what the man had to say about his career. “Do you prefer working with the police and working on cases or working with archaeologists and their digs?” she asked. She bit the inside of her cheek as she looked at the forensic anthropologist. “I’m sorry for asking all these questions. If um…you don’t have anywhere to be, can I buy you a cup of coffee? I’d really like to hear more about your career, but if you have to go, I get it.” She glanced over at the door to the coffee cafe right next to them. “I’m Renata by the way. Renata Ortiz.”
He let out a breath as he mulled over his answer. He thoroughly enjoyed conversations like these, in fact it was his own curiosities and willing professionals that set him on this path in the first place. “Hmm, that’s a tough one. I enjoy my job, I think it serves an important purpose but not much can beat a good field season. The stories are some of the funniest moments in my life.” The work he ended up with was entirely different from what he had expected when he was younger. “No, no. I’m free if you want to talk more but don’t worry about the coffee.” He stuck his hand out for introduction. “I’m Heath Aldoretti. Nice to meet you. Are you from Westport?”
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i have to go. don’t go. i don’t want to. then don’t, let’s go somewhere.
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dylansutton:
“— What?! Is that contagious?” The brunette asked as she removed her hands from the male who she’d picked up in the corner of the bar. When she’d heard someone was a doctor, she went for some advice about whether she should put him in the back of her car or call an ambulance.
Heath couldn’t help the chuckle that left his throat. “No, no. Don’t worry. Your friend over there probably has diabetes.” He peered over the person he was talking about. “You should probably get him to a hospital, it looks like he’s been letting that go for far too long; and drinking doesn’t help.”
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renata-ortiz:
Renata nodded as she took in the information that was being fed to her. She pursed her lips and glanced at the ground. She would need to talk to some other people about her mother. A forensic anthropologist wasn’t going to get her many places with the information she wanted, but she couldn’t deny that she was interested in the subject. For so many years, it was always sports, training, boxing, camps, sponsors, and whatever else came with the package deal of being a professional boxer. She hardly ever had time to think about other subjects and anything else that interested her. “Thanks…that’s good to know. I’ll look into it more later. I have another question, if you have time. It’s not related to what I was talk about before. So, I know that forensic anthropology deals with figuring out how people died based on their remains. Do you work with the police or like with archaeologists and whatnot?”
Heath’s career always seemed the easiest way to break the ice; and he had no issues sharing the information and details involving his work. Or at least, to the legal extent that he could. “I have all the time. Yes-we’re able to aide investigators in their cases by providing information about skeletal remains.” It was almost difficult for Heath not to shift into his lecture mode. The voice he used for their educational programs. “I work out of Westport’s Medical Examiner’s office. I oversee all of Fulton County skeletal cases; so I work closely with the district’s medical examiners and detectives on the case.” He shared a smile as he continued. “I don’t work with archaeologists very much anymore; though I was involved in a few excavations during my time at school. Usually if there’s any remains found at an archaeological site, they’re required to stop digging.”
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cheyennemesserschmidt:
“And you didn’t tell him?” Cheyenne asked, shocked that the person on the plane had gangrene. “I don’t think you’re supposed to fly in that condition ever-you’re supposed to stay at home and don’t move at all, right?”
“I don’t think there’s any way he didn’t know; it was clearly discolored. I’m surprised it wasn’t more..uh-fragrant.” The circumstances of the situation should not have been a laughing matter itself, but Heath was always one to share strange stories. “He should be at a hospital. I’m sure they would have amputated his toe right away before the infection spreads to his bones.”
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victoriahawthorne:
“A gangrene?” Victoria made a face at the thought, shaking her head quickly. “No – no way, really? That’s just… no, you’re definitely not supposed to fly with that, I think. And it’s not great for anyone else flying with you, either.”
“It wasn’t. I’m surprised no one else complained, though I was the only one sitting next to him. “ The image didn’t necessary bother him, it was more worry than anything else. Perhaps a bit of astonishment at the situation. “Hopefully he was on his way to a surgery center in another town. Anyways, anything new with you since I’ve been gone?”
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renata-ortiz:
“Actually, I wanted to know something else…although it might be sort of a similar question. Not sure if you’ll be able to help and I’m sorry if I’m wasting your time.” Renata replied. She’d been doing some of her own investigating lately, trying to figure her mother out without asking her anything. “I just figured that since you’re a forensic anthropologist…you might know. Has anyone ever died from Munchausen syndrome?”
Heath’s eyebrows furrowed at the thought. “Hmmm, can’t say there’s ever been a direct correlation unless the disorder caused the person to inflict self-harm. As in, taking too many pills thinking it would cure their feigned illness.” His arms crossed as he continued, happy to share information he had. “That’s something that we can’t really prove with just an Autopsy. We’d need patient history, and witness reports to support a theory like that. Though, to be entirely honest with you my expertise doesn’t lie within wet autopsies.”
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d-avidcorvin:
David looked between them, swallowing hard as he looked down at his dick. It was strange enough to hold a conversation at the urinal, but as it took this turn– he was starting to feel a little ill. He hadn’t noticed anything odd; but really, who was to say what was going on with his body. “What the fuck is gangrene?”
There was a mistake somewhere in their communication, but the fall of David’s smirk only influence Heath to run with the situation. “You know, when an appendage starts to loss blood circulation? The skin starts to die and rot.” He raised his eyebrows and stepped away. “ You wouldn’t have diabetes, would you? Although, maybe it’s an advanced stage...have you been checked recently?”
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“Look, I’m not that kind of doctor,” Heath readjusted the bag slung over his shoulder. The weight pressed wrinkles into his shirt as his other hand raised to block the yawn that escaped. “but anyone would be able to tell it was gangrene. I don’t think you’re suppose to fly in that condition; sitting for hours already limits your blood circulation. ”
#what is this#i don't know but here#wrp.chat#he's talking about someone he saw on his flight#but it could also be a joke
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abellocke:
Most of Abel’s time was spent in the tattoo parlor just drawing things. Some of the sketches were tattoo ideas for him. The others were just drawings. As an artist first, he barely had time to just do things that weren’t tattoos. Right now, he had taken the time to do what he normally couldn’t find time to do. That was until he heard the bell faintly which signaled that somebody was coming into the shop. When he looked up and saw Heath, he nodded his head. “Yeah, I’ve got time.” A chuckle left his mouth at the suggestion. “Oh, buddy, I don’t know if you wanna give me that kinda freedom.”
“You know, as long as I don’t leave her with a dick permanently etched onto my forehead, I think I’ll trust the system.” Heath found his way to the counter, examining the artwork that was presented on the walls for customers. “What’s something you always wanted to give someone but never did? I’ve got half arm full of space.”
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@abellocke
Ration decisions during stress? It was an Aldoretti classic passed down through generations and generations of the Italian family. Heath’s arm was already covered in designs, a few having been completed since his arrival in Wesport; but today he wanted to add to the artwork. The only issue...he had absolutely no concept constructed in his mind. The clinging bell of the front door sounded throughout the parlor as he entered. “Locke, you got time today?” His features held a grin. “I’ll let you do whatever piece you want.”
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addisonxyates:
That she wasn’t. But at this point, she was not being picky. “I’m an anything that burns kind of person.” Seeing that he was already ordering himself another, she took the liberty of keeping his drink for herself as she settled into the seat beside him. It was no secret that Addison really hated this town and a lot of the people she grew up with. Of no fault of their own and rather because she just preferred forgetting her past and everyone around her felt like they were stuck in time, stuck back in her childhood and so at every turn, she was faced with some new reminder, some new memory. It had been one of those kinds of days for her. Not that she felt the need to divulge such information since the woman was far too good at pretending everything was alright. “Rough week, rough month, rough year. But who’s counting?” There was only a slight tug of her lips. “How’s it looking for you. Must be busy being the new superstar of town charged with cracking this case wide open.”
Everyone was haunted with demons, and in this town it seemed all the more true. Heath hadn’t been one to pry. A bar was a place where you came to drown your obstacles, not broadcast them...and the few that did usually borrowed the ear of the nearest bartender. He left it be, perhaps one day, she’d let it all spill. “Oh? I count. Definitely.” A mocking smile tugged on his lips. “I’ve got this little calendar at home, red ‘X’s’ for every shitty day.” He took a sip of the new drink as it arrived, saluting her a short cheers. A short intake of breath at the change of topic before blowing air out through his teeth. “Yeah, well. I didn’t exactly realize that our current situation with employees would place me in an interim position should anything have happened to the chief. It’s more than busy.”
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Heath had been in a rush returning from picking up lunch for the entire office. He wanted the fresh air anyways, and the break was all the more necessary. Though, now, he felt time slipping away and waited impatiently at a cross walk before the light turned green. The approach of the care would have gone unnoticed, had the looming shadow not grown closer and closer. A mistake, wrong place, wrong time. The contact with his leg could have been worse, but curses still flew. “Cazzo! Stronza!” His hand slamming down on the hood of the car, before resting there to keep his balance. The pain was minimal but the shock had slipped through. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” Embarrassed by his initial outburst he looked down to the small tear in his jeans. A surface scratch if anything. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Are you alright?”
To say things were bad would’ve been an understatement. No, her issues didn’t particularly compare to what was happening to many people around her, but that wasn’t to take away the overwhelming amount of stress she carried on her shoulders. Her time spent in a hospital bed had changed the course of so many things and left Danneel feeling far worse about herself than she had in months. And now she was taking time off—trying to process all the news and come to terms with what was going to happen. It had her feeling spacy; unable to really focus on anything else. Which wasn’t exactly a good thing when driving. Danneel was so wrapped up in her own thoughts she failed to really pay attention to what was happening in front of her, while seated behind the wheel of her car. Because of such, she ended up rolling through a stop sign and was just inches away from completely running over someone. Luckily, she stopped when she felt the minor crash and reality came storming through. “Oh my god!” Her voice echoed inside the car before she was putting it into park and rushing out. “Oh my god, oh my god! I’m so… I’m so sorry! Are you hurt?! Is there any pain? Bleeding!?” — @heathaldoretti
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It had been months, but the county had finally approved his request for new equipment. He was eyeing the macro lens he’d already researched before arriving when the woman’s voice caught his attention. “Hmm..Oh..” Heath wasn’t particularly private about his work, but he always felt some tinge of guilt bringing it up to strangers. They rarely expected such morbid details from asking a simple question. “Uh, I guess you could say it falls under Environmental and Subject photography. I’ve been trying to get a hold of this macro lens for months.” It’d help with photographing micro-abrasions and small substance transfers. “I’m assuming you’re into photography?”
@heathaldoretti
The camera store in town had quickly become one of Cassidy’s favorite places. It seemed almost shut off from the rest of the world. She wasn’t sure how long it had been around, but every time she entered, she left with something unexpected. Except this time, she couldn’t shut her mind off. This trip was supposed to stop her mind from racing with thoughts of the fire, Celeste, Rango, Axel. None of the equipment called to her. She lifted her head and looked around – her eyes settling on a man who was looking at a particularly heavy duty lens. She made her way over to him, smile already forming on her lips. “Whoa, that’s a beautiful lens. What do you shoot? If I can get personal and ask that.”
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@heidibergen
“I apologize.” Heath breathed a heavy sigh as he handed over the copied document he’d been sending out to every official in town; or at the very least it felt that way. “I can’t tell you any more than what’s written in the initial report.” A hand brushed through his hair, it had been a little over a week since the positive identification of the victim. The pressure from such a public and high profile case had a quicker turned over than normal. “Honestly, we’re still waiting for tests to be come back completed. There’s nothing new, but when there is, we will be transparent as always.”
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