fandom_clinic | Fandom Clinic, Sunday after the rescue

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Fandom Clinic, Sunday after the rescue

Medicine wasn't just Cristina's vocation, it was a large part of what kept her brain from just continuously spiraling out. So once she was out of the woods, she made a bee-line for the clinic. There was at least one injury she knew of that would need checking on, and probably plenty of other people who needed IV fluids at the very least to rehydrate, and until every last one of them was checked out, treated, and cared for, she was going to keep on holding herself together.

Besides, if she let herself fall apart again, she really wasn't sure she'd be able to put herself back together. Not when all her people were still a continent away.

So: work. She used to be known throughout the hospital as an unfeeling robot. She could be so again for as long as it was needed.

[open for anyone needing post-BDE treatment! Or anyone who just wants to hide in the clinic, either way.]

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So maybe, maybe Reno was starting to see the appeal in carrying some kind of materia with a healing ability attached to it. Sure, his potions had carried him through for a while in the woods, but potions only healed injuries, they didn't heal fatigue, preventing the risk of further injuries in the future.

By the time he stumbled into the clinic, leaving a messy trail of red behind him, covered in deep sword gashes and riddled with bullet holes, it was probably a wonder he hadn't flat-out died already.

"... Anybody here a doctor?"

Seriously. Gonna invest in a Cure materia the next time he went to Gaia.

Edited 2018-08-12 17:22 (UTC)

"Yes!" Sound a little more excited there, Cristina. Let us know how you really feel. "I'm a doctor! With actual tools, yes!" She could kiss those suture kits and blood pressure cuffs. "Someone get a gurney in here!"

"... Gotta love a doctor who loves her job," Reno decided, swaying a little, and then just flat-out collapsing on the spot.

Hey, a doctor. He probably wasn't gonna die. Good. Great, even.

They could figure out how to get him onto the gurney from there, then. He was going to spend a moment just quietly bleeding out in peace, first.

Cristina sighed. "I hate it when they do that. Gurney! Stat!"

In the meantime, she was on the floor next to Reno, checking his pulse and making a cursory examination.

That was a lot of wounds.

"And someone prep whatever you've got resembling an OR around here!"

She was going to get to do surgery!

Ghanima was only an hour or so behind Reno, having only stayed in the forest long enough to clear out a few more haunted objects after she'd shoved him towards the light and out of the treeline.

"Hello?" she called, carefully keeping her injured arm steady. "If someone can point me towards the supplies for burns, I will just need assistance for a moment."

Reno had tuned out to be far easier than he looked, needing lots of stitches and fluids, but nothing really interesting. Which was great for him! He'd recover just fine with rest and time!

Cristina was pretty disappointed, though. She hadn't had a really good complicated surgery in forever.

"I'm here," she said, only just managing not to bodily shove a nurse aside to take Ghanima's case. "Burn kits are right this way."

Well, luckily for Cristina, Reno had managed to badly burn Ghanima's left arm, from the elbow all the way up her neck and on to her face, eyebrow singed away completely. Welts and blisters were everywhere, though she didn't seem to be in too much pain.

Bene Gesserit training had its perks.

"I appreciate it," she replied, following Cristina. "Unfortunately, my range of mobility is rather limited at the moment, I could use a hand with bandaging and getting it into a sling of some sort."

"No kidding," Cristina said, taking in the size of that burn. "We're going to need to debride this before we can bandage it. And I'll need to check your other vitals just in case. Are you injured anywhere else that you know of?"

Lack of pain from burns was generally a really bad sign. It usually indicated a burn deep enough to cause nerve damage. And even if they weren't that deep, then there was still shock to contend with.

"The burns are the extent of my injuries," Ghanima confirmed. "Except, perhaps, my pride, that I got hit in the first place."

She gave Cristina a slightly wry smile, blue-on-blue eyes bright. "I'm a near-human genetic off-shoot, you can treat me with anything you can give a human patient, and while I'd appreciate some sort of painkiller, they won't be necessary if you're anticipating a lot of patients. I heal rapidly, and can manage the pain if needed."

Cristina blinked at that, then nodded. "I appreciate that. I'm still going to check your other vitals in case, though. I've seen too many people die because they thought they were just fine and no one did due diligence."

"Of course," Ghanima replied, easily. "And I'm happy to answer any questions you'd have if something appears odd. The nurses might even have my original medical file, that I brought with me a million years ago when I started teaching."

"And yes, these," she gestured to her eyes, "--are normal for my people, though they're just like your eyes in all other regards other than coloration."

"No offense, but those are about hte least weird weird thing I've seen here." She got out her blood pressure cuff and stethoscope to take some base readings, and not finding anything she felt she needed to worry about, turned to the burn. "It's going to hurt a lot more when I clean this out. If you change your mind about needing pain meds, let me know."

"That's why I love Fandom; the variety of life is delightful." Ghanima looked at the singed remains of her robe's sleeve, and carefully extracted her arm from its remains, ripping away the damaged bits to give the doctor more space to work.

She took a deep breath, trying to focus on her heartbeat and her breathing. Meditating would make compartmentalizing the pain easier, especially if she could maintain her equilibrium until she could take a Spice dose. "Thank you, doctor. I promise, I'll let you know if the discomfort becomes too much to handle."

Cristina nodded and set to work, using tweezers and a small scalpel to pick out not just the bits of cloth and dirt still clinging to the burned tissue, but also any loose dead skin. Jackson would probably tell her she was doing it all wrong, but her technique would do in a pinch.

"Now normally, you'd need to keep this clean and redebride it regularly while it heals, but I'm not sure how your alien DNA and faster healing will affect things. I'd still like to recheck it in a week, just to make sure it's healing alright."

Dazed and kind of in shock, Parker headed into the clinic, one hand on the arm Cristina had stitched up earlier. It hadn't burst open, but a few of the stitches had been stretched.

"I need antibiotics," she said flatly. "You said."

"I did," Cristina agreed. She wished all patients were that willing to follow up on a treatment plan. She led the way to a bed and stared pulling supplies out of a cart. "I'll even throw in a banana bag while I check this over and get you cleaned up."

"What the heck is a banana bag?" Parker asked, showing some signs of life. She flopped down on the bed, and winced a little. "If it's that fake banana flavor, I don't want it."

"No flavor at all," Cristina assured her. "It plugs straight into your veins. Fastest way to rehydrate." She smirked. "And it's great on hangovers." She reached gently for Parker's injured arm, already noting where the stitches would be best replaced.

And wondering if Parker would let her take a picture of the wound. Those stitches really weren't damn bad, considering.

Parker might be one of the few people out there who would later say "cool. Those are kinda neat."

"I did not know that," Parker said, holding her arm out, sounding meditative. "I don't get drunk that often. People can do stuff to you if you're drunk. Or unconscious."

Cristina looked up at that with a small frown, but only nodded. "They can."

Even when they didn't mean to.

"Looks like I need to clean this out and replace a couple of the stitches. The good news is, I've got lots of lidocaine now, so it shouldn't hurt at all."

"Okay." Parker nodded, then yawned. She watched Cristina prepare stuff with detached interest, and said, "Did you get to kill your teddy bear?"

"Mr. Bear?" Cristina shrugged. "The deputy shot it. Then hacked a marble angel to pieces with an axe." One day, she was really going to have to learn Rosa's real name. And she didn't think that about most people! She gave Parker a shot of lidocaine, inserted the IV, and hung the banana bag with a good dose of IV antibiotics for good measure, then set to work on the stitches. "You should start to feel better pretty quickly. You're still probably going to want to take it easy for a day or two, though."

"Nice," Parker said in appreciation. "Raven - Hardison's TA and daughter-" because Raven deserved the props, yup, "killed my horsie. I was so glad."

The arm stopped hurting within minutes, and Parker sighed in relief. "I don't usually like drugs, because they make me wibbly-wobbly, and I have to be ready for anything, but right now I'm too tired to tough it out." She squinted at Cristina. "Are you-- okay?" Regularish people could get traumatized by this stuff. She should ask about that.

"Nope," Cristina said, and offered Parker a quick smile. "But I haven't been for years. I'll probably go on a three day bender and impulse buy an entire apartment."

"There's some good ones around here." Parker nodded and looked relieved to have an answer she could leave alone. "And ones where the wallpaper changes color and stuff. Or the taps give coffee. Where are you living now?" She stared at the stitching, then said, "I bet I could get a cool tattoo with this scar."

"You'll want to wait for it to heal completely first, but sure." Cristina finished cleaning out the wound and started restitching. Her stitches were noticeably smaller this time, even to an untrained eye like Parker's. "I'm at the hotel. I was kind of hoping to, you know, leave before I had to find a permanent residence, but the island's even more stubborn than I am."

"Yeah. It does that," Parker agreed. "Do we even know what was happening with that stupid stuff? Was there a reason, or was it just a Weekend Thing?" Teeny tiny stitches. If anyone else (Hardison) (Eliot) needed stitches any time soon, she was dragging them in here to Cristina.

Wise choice, Parker. Cristina was one of the best there was.

Good luck getting Eliot actually in here without him being concussed or dying, though.

"All I know is, I've got a guy here with multiple gun shot wounds, and a woman who almost had her arm burned off. And the deputy lady beat things up with an ax. What's a 'Weekend Thing'?"

"Oh, you know. Where we all turn into little kids. Or versions of ourselves that took math in high school. Or you know, actually went to high school." Parker was so glad she'd missed that. Since she'd gotten Prom with Hardison, later. "Or into ponies or something. It's always gone by Monday and no one gets really hurt and there's just no reason. It's like weather. Catastrophe weather. Or climate. One of those."

So, with all the severe injuries, maybe not a Weekend Thing.

"Why do people live here?" Cristina shook her head. "Sounds like it's not that sort of thing this time, though. And I'm pretty sure we were teenagers for more than a weekend."

"That was kind of funny." Parker grinned, then shrugged her opposite shoulder. "Some people are on the run. Some people like people who like to live here. Some people are crazy."

Witness, Exhibit A.

"And some of us get kidnapped." Cristina shook her head. "Alright, you're all patched up, but I want you to hang out until the IVs are done. Then I'll give you some pills to take this week, and you can go home and sleep."

"'Kay." Parker was really feeling the need for a nap. But her own bed would be better.

Or maybe the roof, so she could sleep by herself. And call Nate to yell at him every time she woke up.

"If you gotta get drunk, go to Caritas. Nobody can hurt you there while you're plastered. Anti-violence spell." She flexed her arm, and smiled. "And thanks."

"Yeah, but their band stinks." ~~*rimshot*~~ Cristina shrugged. "Knowing me, I'll probably just hide in my hotel room. Or maybe my office. But I'll keep that in mind."

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Fandom Clinic, Sunday after the rescue

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