Treatment

Posted on Mon Oct 5, 2015 @ 2:26pm by Commander Caleb Ryan & Commander Amia Telamon M.D.

1,748 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Fallout
Location: Infirmary
Timeline: MD 7/1700

Amia had only recently got her memories back, but they had returned with the same suddenness that they'd disappeared, so she didn't feel any different than she had before she'd been shot. On the other hand, what *had* changed, was the way other people seemed to be having trouble adjusting to her having no idea who they were no matter how well she might have originally known them, and now that she had little memory of the interim period when she didn't even know who she was herself. It was a bizarre feeling. She pulled up her calendar and checked over her appointments in an attempt to clear her mind and get back into the swing of things.

She had Caleb coming in this morning. That would give her something to think about. This was going to be quite a complicated operation, although she wasn't going to let him know that. She fixed on her "doctor's face" smile and cheerfully welcomed him.

"Hi! I'm looking forward to making your life SO much nicer!" she beamed.

Caleb smiled at the doctor. He had brought his cane, just in case, but wasn’t really using it. His leg was feeling fine today. “Are ya sure yer up ta this, Doc?” he asked, having heard of her recent troubles.

"Yes, definitely sure." She smiled serenely and offered him pride of place on the bio bed in the center of the bay.

"So, we're taking this one layer at a time. Six sessions, one hour each, no general anesthetic necessary, but lots of local numbers and some take home old-school analgesics to keep swelling down and prevent too much discomfort after each treatment." Amia went over the gist of things.

"Is that all the way you were expecting it to be?" she asked, already checking his vitals, bloods, Us and Es, and some initial scans to check the shrapnel hadn't moved.

“Pretty much what ya laid out in the paperwork, yep,” Caleb nodded. “Um…should Ah…take mah pants off?” he asked, looking around for the changing room. “We doin’ this out in the open?”

"I was going to, but if you would prefer, I could take you into Theatre Two where it would be just us two and the main monitors, which record every procedure. They're to safeguard you from mad professors or femme fatales. We could turn them off onto a secure loop so that only you and I could see them later, if that's your preference. Patient confidentiality and all that," she offered.

“Ah guess Ah just wasn’t sure about droppin’ trow in the middle of your sickbay,” Caleb said with an awkward smile. “However ya think best, Doc.”

"I'm happy with whatever you are most comfortable with, Commander." She smiled gently. "After all, it's your modesty, and if you prefer a more private location, I'm very happy to provide one. It's no problem at all."

Caleb considered, glancing around the Sickbay. He shrugged and undid his pants, slipping them off. “Femme fatales?” he asked with amusement. “Been a while since Ah met one of those.” He folded his slacks and slid back up onto the biobed in his regulation boxer briefs, the mass of scar on his thigh clearly visible.

Amia pulled a soft curtain around the bed and examined the livid looking scars. She scanned over them all one by one, mapping up onto the monitor and then off onto the med record so that she would have a fully detailed record of 'before' and 'after', but also to give her accurate measurements.

She scanned for the depth of the scar tissue and, most importantly, the placing, depth, and volume of the shrapnel that was still present. Once she had the whole picture and all the most careful considerations put together, she began to make up a computerized model on the screen.

Raising a smaller monitor onto the arm of the bio bed, she was able to show Caleb what she had constructed and the details she had discovered, measured, and mapped.

"I'm planning to take these little bastards out one by one," she told him, indicating the dark shadows that represented the shrapnel. "I want to begin with the easy ones nearest the surface. Once I have those out, the pathways I'll need to reach the deeper ones will be easier to follow and less restricted by the others getting in the way." It was a sound plan and a medically wise one; she hoped he'd be happy with that even though it did seem to leave the worst to last, which some patients might not prefer.

"Are you happy with that? Or would you rather I went for the one that's causing the most trouble first of all and then if you find it too much, we could leave the smaller ones if we absolutely HAVE to?" She watched as he looked across the 3D mapping image in front of him.

“Ah’ve lived with this for two years now, Doc,” Caleb said. “Whatever ya think is best. Not sure it could hurt worse than when it first happened,” he said with a wry smile. “Of course, there was a whole lot of other stuff that hurt worse,” he said, looking away, his eyes haunted, as he remembered his wife Mika. “Gettin’ the easy ones out first sounds good, though,” he agreed, turning back. “The harder ones might keep me off mah feet longer, an’ with the station nearly fallin’ apart an’ a new planet down there, Ah’m needed.”

"Understood." She nodded and began with an analgesic and localized nerve isolation before starting to remove the first piece closest to the skin. As she moved it, she repaired the cells it was leaving missing, the gap it had caused, and the path she was having to make to take it out. With it all instantly regenerated, the leg was 'healed' over nicely in no time. She took out a second slither of metal from a close location and then stopped.

"Those blocks will wear off in a few hours and if the leg gives you any discomfort this hypospray of pain killer will help. It only has one dose though, so you'll have to come back to me to top it up and I can check how you're getting on with the healing, etc. Okay?" She was admiring the clean lines of the repair. If she said so herself, it was a neat job.

"I think that's about enough of the work to say we've probably only got to do another four sessions and then we're done." She smiled.

"How do you feel?" She looked again at all his stats and then into his face. "No nausea?" she asked. "Any referred pain? Feeling that somewhere else hurts instead?"

During the procedure Caleb had laid back. He almost wished he’d brought a padd with all the paperwork he had to do. He had no desire to watch the doctor work. He was rather surprised when it was over so soon. He sat up and flexed his leg a bit.

“No pain, Doc,” he said. “Still numb,” he admitted. “But Ah like that,” he chuckled. He always had pain, it seemed, and had learned to live with it the past two years. “That was quick. Can Ah put weight on it, or should I wait a bit?” he asked, unsure if he should walk. He’d brought the cane, just in case.

"You can use it at once, but don't overdo it. Rest it as soon as you get back to your quarters. That's far enough to walk for now," she advised as he began to stand up and put his weight down cautiously.

Caleb nodded. “Understood,” he said. “Not sure Zandy will like waitin’ on me hand an’ foot,” he said lightly. “Thank you, Doc,” Caleb said, putting his hand on Amia’s arm and meeting her eyes.

Amia looked up from what she had been recording onto his medical padd. "You're welcome," she said, and meant it.

This is what she was here for. She loved to find ways to make a difference and to help patients who needed a bit of expertise added to the care they had been given in the past. There was a lot of help that all the staff in this excellent facility could give and, if her training and management were working properly, it was a feather in her cap, so to speak, if all the care given was universally the best they could attain. So it was probably true to say that the most excellent care could be given by anyone and she shouldn't actually need to get hands on herself because she should have provided the means for it to be happening even by others.

However, nothing of those valid and true justifications gave the same personal feel good factor to any doctor, no matter what rank or position they had achieved, as the one that generated from the look into the eyes of a patient, personally treated, who was feeling relief as a direct result of something she had done herself.

Her smile was warm and happy as he caught her eye. She felt an awareness that she had been distant from this basic, deep need -- distant from almost every basic deep need she used to have -- for what felt like a long time.

Yes, she had her memory back, in the general sense, but today she felt as if she was regaining something more fundamental and important. She caught his hand as it began to leave the place where he had put it on her arm and she squeezed his fingers gently.

"Very welcome indeed, and thank you too," she beamed, releasing his hand and pinking slightly at the cheek bones, "for helping me feel like I used to when I was a ‘proper' doctor and not just the stuffed officer’s uniform that bosses everyone around." She felt the need to explain and lightened up what she was saying with a bit of humor about how bossy she was when in charge.

Caleb flashed that disarming smile of his. “Anythin’ Ah can do ta help a pretty lady in need,” he promised her, easing himself down off the bed, reaching for his pants.

FIN

Lt. Cmdr Amia Telamon
Chief Medical Officer

Lt. Cmdr. Caleb Ryan
Chief Security/Tactical Officer

 

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