Not for the first time does Beverly wish they had Starfleet and technology and vaccines. At least then she could rule out just about every known disease that affects humans. She folds her arms over her chest and regards him shrewdly.

"As long as you stay right there," she tells him pointedly. "If I feel you're overdoing it or you try to get up again, I really will have you lying there and counting the dots on the ceiling."

If there are dots. She hasn't really looked in all honesty.

"If I had a decent way to analyze a blood sample, that would be a good start."

Decent, as in Starfleet technology level, which is, again, frustratingly impossible.