fandomhigh | Medical Post: The Gym

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!event: snow weekend

Medical Post: The Gym

Susan, Zhaan, and others have numerous cots set up with dividers, and a table with their instruments in one corner of the gym. They are treated the injured and preparing for more casualties. After some quick and hasty introductions, they got ready for any incoming patients and hoped there wouldn't be any.

ETA: Post is closed to new play as of 11:22 EST. If you're injured, come into the clinic tomorrow-- the doctors are as fried as their players.

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"Oh. no you don't. Stay talking to me, young lady," Zhaan ordered, her tone crisp. She reached a hand to clasp the young woman's shoulder. "Tell me about your favorite plants."

She forced her eyes open and frowned. "Don't really like plants. Always kill them." Her eyes began to flutter closed again. "Never grew in my quarters . . . hard to keep green things alive in space . . ."

"We do tend to dislike the... vastness of space. Although there are quite a few plants which thrive in the environment. Especially when placed close to a phase-shifting star," Zhaan paused, a strange little smile on her lips, then took her hands and closed her eyes to call on her energy reserves to start warming the young woman. Without opening them, she prompted, "And your favorite food?"

"I like vodka," Ivanova announced. "And chocolate. Tonks sells chocolate. I like Tonks, too."

She was starting to feel very sleepy and very fuzzy, like that stage of drunk she usually skipped, preferring instead to move right from 'belligerent' to 'passed out'.

Catching the comment about the head wound, and that she wasn't cold, Zhaan frowned slightly, but moved to inspect the wound. She reached for the sterile gauze and carefully wiped away the blood. Like most head wounds, it's bled far more than indicated. There was still a sizable gash in Ivanova's head.

"I don't believe you'll need stitches," was Zhaan's verdict as she shook her slightly. "But you need to stay awake. You may have a concussion."

"Really?" Ivanova said sarcastically. Or it would have been sarcastic if it had been more than a fuzzy mumble. She tried to sit up straighter and keep her eyes open, but it was getting much more difficult. This dratted fuzziness. If only it would clear away.

Zhaan pressed a pad to the wound to halt the bleeding, and eyed Ivanova's fluttering eyelids. "You need to stay awake, my dear." She paused, remembering they hadn't had time for introductions. "I am Zhaan, and you are?"

"Ivanova. Susan Ivanova. Commander. Daughter . . ." she continues, her words trailing off into inaudibility, but the phrases 'sorry ass', 'sweetheart', and 'god sent me' were definitely involved somehow.

"The goddess does have a sense of humour," Zhaan murmured, then her gaze sharpened. "Stay with me, Susan Ivanova."

It was so frustrating. Ivanova felt like she could see herself being fuzzy and stupid and she couldn't do anything about it. She wanted . . . someone. Tonks, specifically. "Have you seen . . . a girl with pink hair?" she asked slowly. Yes would mean she was injured. No would mean she was possibly injured and/or dead. She wasn't sure what she wanted to hear.

A girl with pink hair. "I believe I have, but not recently," Zhaan replied carefully. "Is she someone you saw during the fighting?"

"I hope she wasn't in the fighting," Ivanova replied. "Hope she's safe. Hope's she's warm and safe. But she's not here, which is good. Except that she's not here." In her mind, this made perfect sense.

And it did, in a way. Another smile crossed Zhaan's lips and she gently lessened the pressure and pulled a corner of the pad up to check on the bleeding. Seeing it had stopped, she removed the gauze completely, and carefully applied antibiotic ointment before asking, "Where else does it hurt?"

Re: Emergency - injuries - MINOR

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Re: Emergency - injuries - MINOR

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Re: Emergency - injuries - MINOR

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Re: Emergency - injuries - MINOR

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Re: Emergency - injuries - MINOR

psi16.livejournal.com - 2006-01-29 05:12 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Emergency - injuries - MINOR

notavegetarian.livejournal.com - 2006-01-29 05:29 (UTC) - Expand

Placing the weaponry and munitions aside, Lyta reached for a blanket and assisted Zhaan as she covered Ivanova. She gave a wry smile at Zhaan's question, knowing Ivanova didn't have much of a green thumb.

Ivanova twitched, scowling at Lyta and trying to remove the blanket. "I'm not cold. I'm just tired. And bleeding from the head." She sounded almost normal, but her eyes were still very unfocused.

"It's called shock, Commander." Lyta gave her a frown. "Or trying to prevent it, anyway. Now... just let the woman do her job."

Ivanova just kept scowling, but stopped trying to interfere. "And cut out that 'commander' crap," she muttered.

Lyta gave a rueful smile. "Old habits die hard...don't they?"

"With a vengance. Hatin' you, fer example." Ivanova replied, nodding, and winced as it aggravated her head wound. "Ouch."

"There was a time we were almost friends." Lyta sighed. "I guess a lot's happened since then." She winced, thinking back to the events after the Shadow War, after the defeat of President Clark. Oh yes. Too much.

"Keyword there was 'almost'," Ivanova muttered. "You're not a bad guy, just a little . . . telepath-y. I don't like telepaths." Her eyes began to drift closed again.

"No, no...Stay awake." She sighed. "And I know why you don't like telepaths. I...understand why."

Lyta swallowed. "I'm not terribly fond of them either...but then, you know my history with Bester."

At the mention of Bester, Ivanova scowled, her eyes almost crossing. "Bester's a jerk." Stay awake, stay awake, everyone seemed to have a grudge against naps.

"Bester's very much a jerk. I hope a very dead jerk." There was a tension in her voice. "That's the way things were going when I...left. When Lorien came to get me."

"Lorien is the old guy," Ivanova felt the need to remind herself of this. She was so very, very tired. Still, she reached out and patted rather vaguely for Lyta's hand in a somewhat comforting manner. "'Sokay. You're in Fandom now. Fandom is good. Safe."