Consequences

Posted on 22 Jun 2018 @ 12:45am by Lieutenant Lucas Abrams M.D. & Staff Warrant Officer William Griffin

2,496 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: The Search Begins
Location: Sickbay
Timeline: MD2 || 1120 Hours

The transporter beam ended and the sickbay was suddenly filled with the ear-curdling screams of a burn victim. Crewman Apprentice Brian Jackson had, for reasons that were yet to be determined, stuck his right arm into the hot exhaust port of a fighter's forward ventral thruster and badly burned it. The crewman's arm was left a blackened, smoking, melted mess of carbon and charred flesh.

Lucas, who had been speaking to one of Medical's personnel about something, looked toward the screams after the person was transported straight into sickbay. He'd seen, and heard, a lot over his career, but the large man didn't think he'd ever be able to get those sounds out of his head once this was done. He moved over to the man quickly and used his sheer bulk to support the man as he got him to the nearest biobed. "Doctor Road! Emergency!" he shouted across the facility.

He looked to one of the nearby nurses. "I need four ccs of morphenolog stat," he ordered, not bothering to acknowledge her again as she ran in the other direction to get the requested medication. He got the man settled down on the biobed to assess the damage to the arm. It was bad. So bad, in fact, he didn't know if they'd be able to save it, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to try. The big question now, though... how the hell did something like this even happen?

It was only a matter of time before the nurse was back with hypo in hand, which Lucas took and pressed against the man's neck, hoping it would do its job and alleviate some of the pain he was experiencing. If it didn't, he would have to try something else, but would wait for Doctor Road to give her input on the matter. If they were lucky, this would do the trick and take the edge off.

Abbey watched the tricorder as the medicine took effect, making sure the crewman had no adverse reactions to it. "The burns are pretty deep," she said. "The skin is totally gone in places. We may need to do skin grafts. There's also some broken bones and ribs. The index and middle metacarpals as well as the index proximal phlange on the right hand. Sixth and seventh ribs on the same side. Other than that, just some bruises. Whatcha think? Bones first, then burns?" she asked Abrams, already readying a couple of osteo regenerators.

"Let's get the bones mended, then we'll move him back to a surgical unit to work on his arm," Lucas said, hoping they'd be able to save his arm.

"Sounds like a plan," agreed Abbey, handing over one of the osteo-regenerators. "I got the ribs."

Lucas accepted the device and nodded his head, getting to work so the Crewman could be moved back to a surgery unit. He didn't want to rush things, but time just wasn't on their side given the severity of the man's arm. "We'll get this taken care of, then work on repairing the arm."

"It's a plan," answered Abbey, bending to her work.

As the two doctors worked to get his bones healed, the Crewman was then taken back to a surgical unit so that they could properly work on his arm. This was going to be rough, but he had faith in their abilities. After all, they didn't allow just anyone into the medical field, which meant that he and Road would do the absolute best that they could.

***

Griffin entered the sickbay like a squall, sudden and angry. He had used the short journey from deck 12 to deck 6 to stew in his own feelings - the guilt and confusion he was feeling over the accident had been masked with a large helping of anger, contained and held back, like a furious lion in a small cage.

"Nurse," Griffin growled at the first person he saw, "crewman Jackson?"

The same nurse that got Doctor Abrams the medication he requested looked toward Griffin when he questioned her about the whereabouts of the injured man. "Doctor Abrams and Doctor Road are taking care of him now. Can you tell me what happened?" she asked, preparing to enter the information into the Crewman's file.

"The god damned idiot stuck his arm in a hot thruster port," Griffin told her, trying hard to reign in some of the anger. It wasn't - after all - anything the nurse had done. "Then fell off a maintenance platform, about four meters." He wasn't very successful, but the effort was worth it.

The nurse blinked. There was likely more to his injuries than just his arm, and since Crewman Jackson couldn't really tell them what happened to him, it was good that Griffin could. She quickly plugged the information into his chart. "The doctors are going to do everything they can for him," she said, taking no offense to the fact he was angry. The young woman wasn't at fault for anything, and Crewman Jackson's injuries were preventable, but accidents happened every single day, and this was no exception.

Griffin growled an acceptance of her reassurance, his hands were automatically clenching and relaxing, anger making fists and his force of will unbinding them. He took a half-step towards the surgical area, then thought better of it and turned to leave, then second-guessed that decision again and ended up pacing, stalking, up and down in the consultation area of the sickbay. Trying not to curse, trying not to let the other feelings in past the anger - he cared about his people, dammit, as much as he bent heaven and earth not to show it, one of his youngest, most innocent boys getting injured so terribly was hurting him deeply. Anger was the substitute for the grief he couldn't afford to show.

"Can... can I get you anything while you wait?" the young nurse offered, wanting to do something to make this a little easier for him. She'd seen her share of people pacing the floors of sickbay while they waited for some kind of news to come, and she sympathized with each of them. "Doctor Abrams and Doctor Road are some of the best."

Griffin made an effort to stop pacing, grinding to a halt and turning to face the nurse. He was grateful for the offer, but what he needed most was to know that Jackson wasn't going to lose the arm, or suffer some other terrible consequence for his stupidity. "No, thank you." He managed to make his tone less angry, through force of will alone but was left standing awkwardly in the middle of sickbay, unwilling to resume pacing and unsure of what to do with himself, besides pacing.

"Do you... want me to wait with you?" the young woman offered.

"No," Griffin replied, further toning down his anxious anger and managing, just about, to give the nurse a twisted, disfigured reject of a smile. "I'm sure you've got duties to attend to and better things to be doing than trying to placate an upset chief." He forced himself over to one of the waiting chairs and sat himself down. "An update, when possible, would be great though."

The nurse nodded her head. "I'll let you know as soon as an update is given on his condition," she said, offering one more smile before she turned to get back to work.

Griffin absent-mindedly ran a hand through his hair, resisting the urge to stand and start pacing again, lest he distract the nurse from her duties and make a pain of himself. Instead, he closed his eyes and ran the events over in his mind again. The gantry moving in to place, the crew climbing over the fighter, the hot thruster port, his roar of warning... he could not figure out why the crewman had done such a stupid thing, nor could he think of anything else he could have done to prevent it.

***

Inside the surgical unit, Luc immediately set out to work on the man's arm. "So, what do you think? The damage is pretty extensive."

"Yeah," agreed Abbey. "It might be too deep to take skin grafts. Whatcha think? Artificial skin?" She hated using the stuff. It was too easily cut and tended to cause trouble for the patient unless they were very careful. Still, if the burns were too deep, they couldn't take enough skin from elsewhere on the body to cover it.

Lucas wasn't sure if artificial skin was going to work in this case or not. He wanted to do everything he could to try to save the man's arm, but as precious seconds ticked by, the chances diminished. "Perhaps we can regenerate the tissue enough to be able to do skin grafts?" he suggested.

Abbey pursed her lips to one side, studying the area carefully. "Maybe," she agreed. "Let's try it. It looks like there might be enough burnt remnants left to heal up." She powered up two dermal regenerators and handed one to Abrams. "Let's get to work," she said.

Abrams took the dermal regenerator and began the slow process of trying to heal what could be so the hard work could begin. This was definitely a preventable injury, and it made him want to discuss proper safety procedures with all personnel, but that wasn't his place. Perhaps, though, he could talk to Doctor Kij about doing something like that in the future. It seemed like it was necessary given the severity of the injury they were trying to fix.

"I think that's as good as it's going to get," said Abbey as the skin that was still there finished regenerating. "It doesn't look like there was much damage to the muscle, so that's good. I reckon we can pull some grafts now."

"Let's hope there are no long term side effects, though, we'll take care of those if they pop up in the future," Luc said, continuing his work. "I think we should keep him overnight just to monitor everything."

"Probably a good idea," Abbey agreed. "And we'll see what tomorrow brings."

Lucas continued to work, pouring his focus and concentration into what he was doing before they'd reached the end of the line. It wasn't perfect, but given what they had to work with when the Crewman first arrived, it was better. "I think we've done all we can for the time being. We can see how things look tomorrow and take it from there," he said, looking toward his partner. "Do you want to let his superior know, or would you rather I do that?"

She had to think about that for a moment. It didn't sound like a particularly fun job, but it was necessary. "Rock, paper, scissors?" she offered, holding out her left fist over her right open palm.

It wasn't something Lucas normally did, but in this instance, it seemed fitting. He got his hands ready and looked at her. "Okay, here goes," he said, making the necessary movements. "Rock, paper, scissors... shoot." And with that, his hand was balled up into a fist to indicate he'd thrown rock.

"Damn," hissed Abbey, who had thrown scissors. "All right, I'll go tell 'im." She pulled off her surgical gloves and tossed them into the bin near the door, followed by her scrubs and mask. She checked her uniform to make sure there wasn't an inordinate amount of blood and then headed out to main Sick Bay to find Griffin.

Lucas couldn't say he envied her position, but finishing up with the man lying on the table in front of him was going to be just a difficult. The next day or so would tell them everything they'd need to now, and the big man hoped it would be good news. A lot of repairs needed to take place. Nerves, muscle, skin, bone in some spots and more. It wasn't easy. For now, though, he focused on finishing everything up so they could get him moved to a room where he'd be monitored for the next twenty-four hours at the very least.

She located him talking to one of the nurses. "Mister Griffin?" she said to get his attention.

With the arrival of the doctor on the scene, Griffin could no longer resist the urge to stand. He stood quickly, towering over the nurse and, despite his best efforts, fairly glaring down at her. "You got an update for me, ma'am?" He asked her, doing his utmost to sound less like a bear. A worried, angry bear - with mixed results. "Is the idiot gonna lose the arm?"

Though Abbey was small, she was notoriously impossible to intimidate. "We've done all the patching up we can at this point," she replied. "We took some skin grafts from various places on his body and they seem to be taking just fine so far. We'll know for sure tomorrow, but from early scans, we think he'll keep it. We're going to keep him at least overnight to keep an eye on him."

Griffin deflated, shoulders sagging forward as he let out a breath full of the worry and concern he'd been holding in. That Jackson was going to be able to keep the arm was even more of a relief than he'd expected, the thought popped into his head that now, at least, he'd be able to rip the kid's arm off and beat the idiot to death with it, but he kept the ensuing grin hidden away.

"That's excellent news, thank you ma'am." He told the doctor, most but not all of the anger gone from the bag'o'rocks he used for a voice. "After he's released, I promise not to put him back in here for being such an idiot."

"Wouldn't blame you if you did," Abbey joked. "We'll take good care of him. Promise."

"I know you will," Griffin managed an actual smile, this time. He liked this doctor, her attitude was just the right mixture of all-business and friendliness. "Well, I suppose I better get back down to the maintenance hangar and make sure none of my other grease monkeys have done anything stupid."

"Yeah, if you could put us out of business, that'd be great," Abbey joked. "Don't be too hard on him, hey?"

Griffin grinned, somewhat ruefully. "I'll do my best, on both counts, ma'am. I think he'll learn his lesson all by himself while he's lying in a recovery bed." He turned, making for the door and paused at the threshold. "Thanks, Lieutenant."

"That's what I'm here for," answered Abbey with a grim sort of smile.

While Abbey was speaking with Griffin, Lucas finished up inside the surgical unit with the help of the very nurse that spoke to Griffin not too long ago. Once everything was finished, and his arm was wrapped, the Crewman was moved to a private room where he would be kept comfortable for the duration of his stay.

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