Bottles of pills are beyond the understanding of the arms, so what they've brought him seems to be some antibiotics and benadryl- useful stuff, but not in this instance. He shakes his head slightly, and the arms sheepishly return the bottles to the shelf. "...This'd better not end up being some kind of trap..." He growls in Matt's direction, but he's too exhausted to put much threat behind it.

Unfortunately exposing his arm requires removing coat and shirt, and he tries to stifle the small noises of pain when he has to move that arm, using the other one to cradle it. The tourniquet has to come off, since it's over his sleeve, and the arms do most of the work getting the layers off. Underneath the shirt the metal band covers half his torso, scar tissue all around the upper edge, and another starburst burn scar over his heart with a suspiciously tri-pronged shape. He leans forward on the back of the chair, letting the doctor do what he needs to on his arm. He's been winged once, which is more or less a shallow cut, but a second bullet hit his arm dead on. If the actuators hadn't moved him, it probably would have hit him in the chest instead.

The arms gather around and hover, claws open and fixing the surgeon with LEDs and cameras from close range.