Of all the things Nyx expected to be surprised by talking to a weird plant-Autobot hybrid, this was nowhere on the list. She opens her mouth to answer, closes it with a frown, and experiences the Five Stages Of Realizing She Doesn't Know How To Answer This Question. After a moment she kinda paces between him and the door, right hand carding through the shadowy mass that is her hair, lips moving but no sound coming out with that faint frown on her face. What kinda question...

...An obvious kinda question though, yeah? A really obvious one? There's treatment for that? Christ on a pogostick why hadn't anyone else asked that?

No, she knows why no one else asked -

She finally turns back to the doctor looking a little embarrassed. "So uh. No? I didn't even know that could be treated in the conventionally human...an' it was a bit convenient for our strapped resources to not. Uh. Try? Having a bitch around who doesn't need anesthetic saved a lotta money...um. Fuck." She laughs, half-nervous and half-bewildered. "Uh. So. It's possible that it's untreatable, stamped into my ontology like the all of this -" she gestures broadly to her Entire Self, "- but not uh, not confirmed. There a version of testing for that which doesn't involve an irreducible amount of medical torture?"