ALT #310: Passing the Time in Medical
Passing the Time in Medical
Summary: Collection of comings and goings in sickbay.
Date: 12/Nov/2013
Related Logs: Minos ground rescue. Not yet posted.
Mahasti Toby Leightner Lleufer Phin Samtara Carmine 
Battlestar Orion — Deck 3 — Sickbay
Serving as the ship's primary care facility, the Medical Center is a rather large, single room structure that has the same load-bearing structures to the walls that the halls do, as well as the same heavy hatch. There is a desk at the entrance staffed by a nurse as well as a small locker for single dose drugs like aspirin. Beds are lined up along each wall with EKG's and hangers for IVs in case of triage. Large cabinets at the rear provide ready access to lifesaving medicines and gear, as well as a ready supply of defibrillators. Not far from the primary entrance is the Chief Medical Officer's office and on the other side is a small hatch to the recovery ward. Towards the rear is a sectioned-off examination area. Opposite the hatch to recovery is a sealed doorway leading down a hallway to the ship's morgue.
AWD #310

Mahasti is unshockingly in the sickbay, the shocking part is that she isn't in her scrubs instead she's in her off duty clothing and house slippers. Instead of commanding the nurses she's assisting in changing bandages. Most of the back of her head is covered by a bandana of some sort. The chatter is generic, although Mahasti is given a clipboard which gets set on Toby's side table for her to back up and read a minute "Chest wound. Walker was surgical. He's still in critical condition. His Firstaid was provided by Lei..Late-ner." she mumbles out "Try to let him sleep if you can." she offers voice soft. She's over Toby's bed "Thank you for letting me help, it feels better than all of the paperwork." she mumbles to the nearby charge nurse.

Underneith the bandages around Toby's torso, there's not really a particular wound as such, unless you count the surgical one, but what is revealed is enough ugly and mottled bruising to cover him front and back and speak volumes about the damage inside. Blast wounds suck. He was more dead than alive when he was brought in but while he's still red-tagged the words 'but stable' have now been added after the 'critical'. There are enough painkillers in his system that he's only vaguely flirted with the idea of conciousness but he is at least breathing on his own, even if it is with the help of a cannula.

Mahasti washes her hands, moving back to touch Toby, taking a washcloth to clean Toby's face, being gentle and careful, her fingers move to gently recover Toby as she sits down beside him with a small stack of paperwork, beginning to work on it. "Poor guy. Every one in is in poor condition. I guess at least they'll be able to remember." she mumbles to herself.

Water on his face, that gets a reaction from Toby as something obviously filters through the haze of the drugs. It's just a momentary twitch of his head really, combined with a similar motion of his right hand, but it definitly registers as a response to stimuli and thus an increasing degree of conciousness.

Mahasti watches those hands smiling "Good morning." she offers, not bothering the young man. She sets her clipboard down, taking his hand to gently clean his fingers, without gloves, not being sentimentally touchy but instead cleaning him. Her expression gives away she has no idea who he is off hand. "Wonder if Sam shoved it in raw or used a little novocain on you." she mumbles to herself.

There's no immediate response to the words, meaning it's unclear if Toby's processing them or not, but there's still the odd twitch of his hand as the Doc works to show that something is going on inside. His breathing has been steady and regular, if a little shallow, but one hand twitch corresponds is accompanied by a slightly deeper breath and that apparently hurts enough to cut through some more of the drug enduced haze. There's a sharp contraction of his facial muscels and an involuntary gasp of pain as his head rolls slightly to one side. His eyes are still closed, but the motions of his chest are loosing that steady rhythm of sleep.

Mahasti apologetically shifts, and pats his fingers, tucking him back. She pats his temple, trying to calm him down or at least get him back to sleep. Fussing gently over the wounded man, but she's being mostly quiet for now it seems. Her cheeks are a little pink as she lets out an uncomfortable noise. She sort of frowns at Toby and his misery.

Toby's eyelids do start to flutter slightly, but that appears to be as close as he gets to openning them as Mahasti's ministrations seem to achieve their intended result. Stilling once more his breathing starts to level out again as he begins to sink back down once more into the drug enduced oblivion.

Leightner has managed to bathe and shower since coming out of Minos, and has continued working. Though he has steadily improved in general color, that's because he's not shooting AntiRads into himself any more. He's moving about amongst the people in Sickbay, several Minoians about, getting treated, under standard Civilian protocols. Now it's them who are under guard. Leightner is moving about by Tobys bedside, checking his fluid lines.

Underneith the bandages around Toby's torso, there's not really a particular wound as such, unless you count the surgical one, but instead enough ugly and mottled bruising to cover him front and back and speak volumes about the damage inside. Blast wounds suck. He was more dead than alive when he was brought in but while he's still red-tagged the words 'but stable' have now been added after the 'critical'. There are enough painkillers in his system that he's only vaguely flirted with the idea of conciousness so far but he is at least breathing on his own, even if it is with the help of a cannula.

Leightner hangs a fresh IV bag on Tobys rack and connects it to the line going into him so as to not upset the flow of fluids when he removes the deflated bag, setting it aside, leaning over Toby for a second, one hand free as he checks the bandaging. Leightner never checks someone without being ready for an attack. Shocking how quick you learn that after getting punched or grabbed a few times.

Toby is not yet, it seems, ready to come out swinging, but there's definite twitching in his face and hands as the bandages are checked. Response to stimuli, thats a good thing right? His breathing remains healthy but starts to lose the stability of drug enduced oblivion as the examination continues. Similarly his eyelids start to flutter slightly before screwing tightly shut as a particularly painful spot is found.

Leightner looks to Tobys face, speaking quietly, setting the tone for his waking, "S'alright, Shackleton, Yer home, On Orion, in sickbay. Yer home an we got em out safe." Home. Safe. Letting him come out of it as slowly as he likes, making sure someones there for it. the rough Virgonese voice, well, not many with that accent.

Toby hears the corpsman's voice, that much is obvious as his head rolls a fraction towards it. The cracking open of an eyelid though, that takes long, but the once it does happen the second follows more quickly after. Pain and confusion register first because damn it, if this is what's waiting after death he feels mightily let down by the whole religious thing. Then slowly, what Leightner actually said starts to register and his expression shifts a little towards hard concentration as he tries to track it through the fuzz surrounding his brain. He seemingly latches onto one word of it though, and tries to repeat it back, his mouth forming the 'ho' shape as he does his best shakes his head to indicate a negative. His throut won't play ball though, it's too rough and dry, and while that adds frustration to his feature since he can't communicate whatever it is that he wants to, it does also mean that all and sundry are also spared the standard stock questions of 'where am I?', 'what happened?' and such like.

Leightner nods to Shackleton, nodding, "Hullo." He says, looking at Toby. Ahh, Tauran arguementitive attitude. He takes it as a better sign than Tobys waking up. "Yer in Sickbay, On Orion, an we got tha people out. Jus rest, yer healing, We gotcha mate, it'll be okay." Hitting the high points.

Mahasti is slipping in with a jar of something, given her little dancy steps she must be excited. "They really sent all this food for -me-?" she squeaks out at the nurse, who is helping her put up some of her 'get well soon' foods in the medical refridgerator. "They sent me pickles." Leightner is spotted and she gives him a glancing and takes her jar of pickles towards him "HI uh.." her face gets a little weird as she tries to pick up his name "Late-ner. Can you open the jar for me?" she asks, smiling brightly "He's probably cotton mouthed from the morpha." she suggests, helpfully to Leightner. She's wearing off duty clothing and house slippers and is perky. Strange new hair cut with a bandana covering up the back portions. Because Leightner is a corpsman he'll notice the stylish fashion statement that is - chest bandages peeking around the edges of her off duty tank. "Would you like something to drink?" she asks towards Toby.

Toby is apparently still working on that tracking thing as he just stares back at Leighter as the man speaks with recognition of what is actually said only coming moments later. Another attempt is made at a verbal reply before that idea is sidelined and he just nods once, slowly to acknowledge that he understands, or at least thinks he does. Mahasti's enterance causes the confusion to return once more though, two people speaking to him at once causing come form of mental overload for a moment before he blinks a few times and glances back to Leightner. Part of what the Doc said made it through though, for he mouths silently, 'drink'.

Leightner straightens and looks to Mahasti, blinking. Mahasti doesn't.. remember him? It's like being in a Twilight Zone episode, people randomly forget you when you're gone for more than five days. He automaticly takes the jar of pickles and pops them open, before reclosing the lid so it can be opened again, offering the jar back, "Leightner, sir. PO3 Leightner? Corpsman?" The accent is a thick northern Virgonese, and he looks a little off balance now, being weirded out by being forgotten. Having entirely missed that Mah was shot in the head. Looking back to Toby, he nods and moves to take a cup and straw. Toby can suck. (just ask Air Wing HAHA! ha. ahem) And Leightner carefully lifts the cup and straw to Tobys lips, "Alrigh, a little, wet yer whistle, only." Controlling the amount of water going in, he lets Toby get some water to handle the cottonmouth.

Mahasti smiles at Leightner "I learned something. She watches Toby's face. "Drink." She watches him with a smile." she watches "Thank you. I'm still having problems." She admits. She takes the pickles to set on her desk and take one out to nibble on it. She returns to take Toby's chart, reading it. "I take it nobody warned you?" she asks towards Leightner "I didn't mean offense but I'm lucky to remember my own name at the moment. And be breathing." She sits on her favorite perch - the rolly chair and scoots herself into the area near Leightner "I remember liking you as a friend, if its any consolation for my memory?" she hms, studying for a moment before taking her pen to write down a few notes. "How do you do it, Leightner? Isn't your head just cold all the bloody time?" she asks, curious if there is a trick to having a buzzed head and not chattering the teeth.

Toby wants more water than Leighter is allowing, but isn't exactly in any fit state to fight for it. Once he's finished what's on offer he turns his head away a fraction so he can swallow a few times and moisten his lips before rolling it back to where he can see both medics. He's not currently attempting to move anything else though, the pain thats cutting through during the simple act of breathing is enough for now it would seem. Throat moistened he tries to speak once more, and maages a sort of grating sound briefly before breaking out into a short burst of painful coughing. He doesn't let it put him off though, for once that's subsided he swallows again and manages a hesitant and scratchy, "not dead then?"

Leightner looks to Mahasti, nodding, "Aye, sir no one warned me about anythin. I been with the influx o Taurans." He says, looking back to Toby as he takes some water, "Not cold sir, ye get used ta it. An them caves were pretty warm." He looks to Toby and smiles, "Yer not dead. Death is less painful." He makes sure nothings broken on Toby from the coughing and is satisfied. "Tha Minoians? Got most o em out. Bombs didn't take many at all." He tells the Deckie.

Mahasti smiles "I'm sorry I got shot up and have had some memory problems." She eyes Toby and sighs a little "He'll be okay, I promise." she pauses "Nope, not dead. You can't murder toasters if you are dead." she offers, taking a moment to wash her hands and get a clean wash cloth to offer to Leightner "If you are tired, you should grab some rest." she offers, voice keeping soft and light.

Toby isn't coughing up blood anymore, which is definitely a positive, it's just an almost impossibly painful experience given the state of his insides right now. He gives a faint nod to Leightner's reply, it being pretty much exactly what he'd have said if he felt able to manage more words, then continues to listen as he finishes the explaination. There's still a slight delay between hearing and comprehension, but it's getting better it seems. The interchange between the pair of them he doesn't try to follow, glancing instead back to the cup of water, still wanting more it would seem.

Leightner smiles to Mahasti, "Sorry, sir, took me off guard is all. I been coordinating tha Minoian integration and evac, now tha Medical coordination." He nods though, "I'm hopin ta get a meeting with tha CMO fer a meeting before resting." Looking back to Toby, he puts some more speech into his processor, "Good. I'll try ta get ye a prettier attendant than me." He looks to the cup, "Little more, little at a time." He says, bringing the cup back so Toby can have some more. Till he can fight for the water he gets little sips at a time.

Mahasti considers Toby "Would you rather have beef broth instead of water?" she asks to Toby. She smiles to Leightner, observing Toby and making a note before considering "His water intake can go up tomorrow. I think he'll be more uh.. able and be fighting with us about staying in here. Nobody wants to be in here unless they aren't allowed in." she jokes.

Taking what water he can get, Toby makes no reply to the attendant comment, focusing instead on the offered drink. Still allowing the conversation between the medics to sail past him unhindered he pauses in his drinking a moment to consider the question posed by Mahasti. By the concentration on his face she could easilly have asked him the best way to handle a raptor coming in hot, but eventually he makes a decision and shakes his head slowly. "No," he replies, voice still quite and shakely, "thank you. Water good."

Leightner looks to Mahasti, then Toby as she suggests broth. As Mahasti lays out his cinditions, he listens to the Doctor. As Toby replies he nods, "Okay." Little sip and the water is back from him. Looking at Toby "Anything ye want, mate? Can get it fer ya. Anytime ye think o it, let us know." He lets that process as he sets the cup aside for the moment, but in a position to look at and express a desire for.

Mahasti smiles at Toby "If you change your mind, tell the nurses or Nurse Leightner." she jokes, "I can't eat even a fourth of what all the people of Piraeus sent up for me. Do you like chocolates Leigh?" she asks, pulling off her bandana to show the shaved sides before bending down to retye it, her curly mohawk-ish do more of a necessity than a fashion statement due to the big scar with disolving stitches on the back of her head showing for a moment as she re-ties it. She sort of considers, touching Toby's forehead with the back of her hand "Temp is steady, non fevery. Are you cold?" she asks to Toby.

Oh frak, more questions, although they does at least disract Toby from the fact that the water is gone again. Mahasti's is answered first, as it requires less thought, and he gives a slight shake of his head to indicate that he is not. Leightner's though, that takes concentration, something which is proving quite tiring all told. Something does catch in his mind though and he tilts his head towards the younger man as he rattles, "gloves."

Leightner looks to Mahasti, and smiles, "Sure, I suppose." He swatches her head as she reties her wrap, tilting his head slightly to survey the damage to the Doctors head. Still she's up and giving orders so she's back. He looks to Toby as Mahasti moves in and is assessing Toby for infection signs. As Toby addresses him, he moves in, "Gloves. Whot kind, in ye bunk?" He's willing to go get Toby any set of gloves he can get his hands on, but needs a little more before he shoots off to fetch.

Mahasti eyes Leightner "No boxing gloves in the Sickbay - Dr. Nadir's rule." she jokes, moving to get Leightner a candy bar from her desk. Shockingly or not, she has a whole drawer full of candy bars, neatly stacked and organized. Someone seriously went over kill cheering her up. She stands to offer the bar to Leightner "Have at. I'll get diabetes if I try to eat all of the candy I was given." she offers, adjusting her tank top before putting on her gloves to give Toby a checking for injuries that hadn't been important earlier.

Toby only actually has two pairs of gloves, which should make Leighter's job easier; his padded deck gloves which live in a pocket of his coveralls, and the plain black pair he wears most of the time when he's not on shift. He gives a brief nod to the comment about his bunk, then offers the word, "black," just to clinch the deal. As Mahasti gets down to business though he switches his attention to her, bracing himself as best he can for the discomfort he knows is about to come his way.

Leightner takes the candy bar, smiling and slides it away, "Thanke, sir, I know jus whot ta do wit this." He says, not eating now of course, tending to a patient. Said patient nods to the bunk and says Black. Done. Leightner straightens, and nods to Mahasti, "Right back sir." He then moves off, signing out on a patient request and is out of there, heading for the Naval Enlisted Berths. Seems this is a special mode for him, going to get things for patients in bed. He's fast, if his leaving is any indication.

Mahasti is careful - a lot more so than she would have been two weeks ago, she actually seems to have gotten a hang of moving limbs without jostling the torso too much "Sorry. Are my hands okay?" she asks, to Toby, for once, her fingers are not icicles given the kiss of life! She watches Leightner "He's a good guy." she offers absently, taking a peek at Toby's chest bandages and making sure they are still down properly, "Hate the way she over wraps. Rubs weird." she mumbles, fixing the nurse who did his over wraps so they don't aggrivate the wound. Likely first hand expirience.

Toby has a repectable collection of scrapes and bruses along his limbs, but then being throw into the air by a blast and landing hard on a rocky surface will do that. The protection of the armour and suit seems to have prevented anything serious though and there's certainly no broken bones in them. Nodding to the question about her hands he then just lets the rest of what she says wash over him as he rests his eyelids, experimenting cautiously with just how deep he can breathe as he does so.

Mahasti 's hands move up to touch along his face, rubbing under his jaw line and doing a quick check of his sinuses - likely just making sure they remained peachy keen "Alright, how are YOUR hands? Any sore spots?" she asks, curiously. Her face gives away she's most concerned about his hands as she tugs her fingers away from his face.

Toby cracks open an eye once more as he feels the hands on his chin, it's obviously not contact he'd been expecting but as it shifts to his sinuses he closes the eye again. There is no recallection of any issues with his hands, but as he's asked he's already slowly clenching, then unclenching, his fists to make sure. A brief shake of the head follows, indication that he's felt nothing wrong.

Leightner comes back in with Toby's gloves. Only had to shake down one Recruit for the information. He moves to Toby's bedside, opposite Mahasti as he holds the gloves. "Oi mate." He says in a friendly fashon with the gloves. "Got em fer ye." He says, offering the gloves, "Want em on? Help ye wit tha." He looks to Mahasti who is asking about hands, and holds the gloves, to see if she wants to use the gloves in the hand check.

Mahasti smiles, backing off "Alright can you keep testing your breathing from me?" she asks, watching Leightner. "Just put them on him if he wants them on. I want him to be comfortable. Comfort makes the body react more favorably to our healing processes." she offers, settling down. "Sorry I touched your face without asking, I wanted to make sure nothing got into your face and made it stuffy, which would aggrivate your throat."

Toby rolls his head towards Leighter as he hears the other man's return. Openning both eyes this time he starts to lift a hand to take them from the corpsman, although the offer of help makes him pause for a moment as he considers the logisitics of the operation. He's about to vote with his pride and go for it himself when the Doc's words go the other way and it looks like he might have to relent. A brief nod is given to acknowledge the apology and it really doesn't take long for him to find the extent he can expand his chest before the pain becomes prohibative.

Leightner nods, not making any production of it, and simply helping Toby on with the gloves. For someone who trained to glove up surgeons, this is a moments work and a tug, and they gloves are on and snug. He straightens and nods, "Thar ye go." He says, looking back to Mahasti, then back, "Anythin else?" He asks, to be sure, he can (and has before) do this all day.

Mahasti takes notes, on the chart. She eyes the expansion, likely making a volume estimate. She smiles "I'm not really able to do full doctoring. Unless you wanna change my wrappings and convince the CMO I need a shower?" she asks, grinning lopsidedly "I need a shower but blah blah stitches." she nose scrunches and laughs "I want to run a mile and take a swim and shower." she mumbles, not allowed to do any of those things.

Toby lets his hands drop back onto the covers once Leightner is done, giving the man a faintly nodded thanks. The rest of his concentration though seems to be fixed on his breathing. That small experimentation has cost him if the lines on his foreheard are anything to judge by. A faint shake of his head answers the 'anything else' query, unless of course, there's more ophiates on offer, and he lets Mahasti's comments go entirely.

Leightner nods, looking at Toby, then looks to Mahasti, "Sure we could have yer bandages changed." He assures, then looks at Toby, and checks the chart, "Yer about ten minutes from yer painkiller booster, then yer good fer a nap, mate." He looks at Toby, "Don worry bout nuthin, we gotcha." Reassurance. Some people like it.

Mahasti makes a note on Toby's chart 'Keep Hydrated' "Sounds good. I haven't had them changed since yesterday, then I took a sponging. Very fucking weird that - I have no idea what the nurse said but I'm pretty sure she was making fun of me." she laughs out, moving to take off her gloves and toss them, sort of cracking her shoulders with a grunt.

Toby appears to be of the opinion that ten minutes is close enough, but as previously stated, he's not yet up for fighting for things. As such, Leighter just gets a single, slow nod before he rolls his head back to a more central position, one where he would be staring at the ceiling were he keeping his eyes open.

Leightner watches Toby for a second then looks to Mahasti, seeming satisfied with Tobys state, "We can step to 2, and I can change ye bandages, sir." He offers, moving from Tobys bedside with a look around the room to make sure everyone else is alright.

—-

It seems perhaps the Leightner was a tad on the optomisitic side when he said ten minutes until the next round of pain killers, for Toby is still waiting. He's lost track of exactly how much time has passed, as he's still lying with his eyes closed, it might be ten minutes, it might be thirty, it's so hard to tell. He's still red-tagged and he's still working hard to keep his breathing to a level where he doesn't over expand his chest while he waits for the relief. Life sucks sometimes doesn't it.

Leightner returns from the back room where they keep the spare Marine parts, looking for something to replace a sternum from a Tauran Deckie. No good. He moves to a station, checking in and looking at the nurse preparing the next round of drugs, including Tobys candy. Ah the sweet relief of Morpha. Artillery can go frak itself. He's still working with the refugees, some of which are back in the Ward, working on getting healed after the Mines of DOOM! But Leightner is looking fairly normal, little pale from the diet of AntiRads, but better.

Lleufer arrives, dressed in his MP duty attire but possibly not making his rounds at the moment. His sidearm is absent, left back at the Security Hub. His other gear, helmet and the like, are also left elsewhere as Ynyr begins to walk quietly through, pausing to look at those who are injured. He shares a low word with Carmine to see how the Staff Sergeant is doing and if he needs anything. Lleu's gaze slips over Emilie and further on to Toby, among the many injured - who include more than a few from Minos. A nod is given to Leightner before Lleu moves his direction.

The conversation earlier with Leightner and Mahasti might not have been the most taxing for them, but it's worn Toby down. He is still awake though, and only in part because of the pain, and as such, opens his eyes and rolls his head towards the sound of new arrivals. It's something to do to pass the time before he's granted oblivion again and he's well versed in the insides of his eyelids right now.

Leightner nods to the nurse and takes some notes as she hands the tray to Leightner and he turns, a broad grin breaking out on his face as he sees Lleufer, "Ynyr." He says, gaze sweeping over the man, just boundlessly glad to see him for many reasons, one clearly being the fact that he's on duty. He nods his head to the side, "C'mon, Shackleton's Morpha time." Yes, it's everyone favorite time of the day, DRUGS! He moves to Tobys bedside, "How ya been?" To the MP as he looks to Toby, "Time fer yer loader mate." He says. Personable as he attends the bedridden.

The Marine Sergeant gives Leightner a nod, "You doing all right?" Lleu looks the Corpsman over and then to Toby, "Thought we might loose him and some others." He waits to let Lei administer the medication as he studies the crewman. Is he awake? Lleu smiles faintly, "Toby, hang in there."

Toby watches the comings and goings of the pair, rolling his head to follow them as they approach. The corpsman's greeting gets a faint nod in acknowledgement although the tech then tilts his head towards the table/cabinate thing by his bed. "Water first," he states carefully, lifting one gloved hand a fraction to gesture towards the water cup situatied there. As he waits to see if he'll get his way or not he gives Lleufer a pained smile, "surely," he starts, equally carefully, "didn't think a mere basestar, could take me?"

Leightner sets the tray at Toby's side, nodding. In this, if the Patient wants to put off the Morpha, their call, at least for a little while. Leightner takes the water cup with straw and holds it for Toby, "Little bit." He reminds, still being a stingy bastard with the water. He glances to Lleufer, "Oh, Aye, I'm fine, jus been workin like mad, an tha occasional throw." He says, "Actual losses were minimal, honestly, lots o wounded." He lifts the cup once Toby's done, or done as he will be for now.

Lleufer gives a nod and takes a seat to watch, "Good. Also good to have you back." He's speaking better than ever, more of the left side of his mouth able to be used. "Need you to get healed up. Work to be done, Crewman. Not lie around on your backside." Ynyr smiles though.

Toby takes the water a little too quickly it would seem, for it sets him coughing again. There's no blood in it, unlike when they were still on Minos, but it's still just about the mos painful thing imaginable right now and he can't help but start to curl up a little until it passes. Laying very still for a few moments once it does he then tilts his head back to Lleufer, and offers "says you," in as light hearted an attempt at conversation as he can muster right now.

Leightner grins to Lleufer, "Well, good, glad ye didn't completely replace me." He smirks, looking to Emilie's bed where she's out. "Haven't spoken to her yet, changed bandages sure, but she's still out." His tone is actually grateful seeming that there's another Corpsman knocking around. As Toby coughs, he leans over the man, making sure nothing bad is going to happen from the movement, then he moves to the instrument tray, taking the syrenge, and moving to the injection port on Toby's IV line. No more delaying, and in goes the needle sending sweet Morpha into Toby. No doubt Toby's CO would love to do this to him on the Deck every now and then. 'Shut Up Juice' it's called.

"Would that not be easier sitting up?" Ynyr looks to Leightner, not at all sure if sitting up would be good or bad for Toby at this point. Lleu glances to Emilie and nods, "Don't know her but she sure was trying." That morpha is eyed and while it's good shit, this Marine is so glad not to be the recipient this time. "I bet those people are glad to be off Minos and find there really /is/ and Orion and a Piraeus."

Yeah, it's good stuff, and the change in Toby once it's administered is almost immediate. His entire frame relaxes and his head sinks back into the pillow once more. He's not out yet mind, but that muzzy feeling is definitely on it's way and he doesn't seem like he's going to be inclined to fight it. He's still tracking enough to flick his eyes between the pair of them as they talk, but all he manages to add to the conversation is a tired, "anyone, told 'em, 'bout skinjobs yet?"

Leightner nods as he removes the needle from the injection port, then looks to Lleufer, "Not with his chest damage." He replies simply, "But Aye. They be right glad. Find a Jusef Makma. Tell him I sent ye, an ye've found a hunter ta go out with." He nods to Lleufer, smirking, "Soon as he sees a direwolf, should be like his birthday." The new top predator on Piraeus… TAURANS! He looks to Toby, and shakes his head, "Not as I know of. I certainly wasn't gonna try ta explain it, left that ta tha Major. Jus checked fer Chipjacking, an they're clean."

That /is/ an important point, to check for jacks. Ynyr looks to Toby, "Not yet but we'll be sure they are informed. All of their stuff is being screened care-fully for weapons before they are allowed to have personals back again, which they can pick up when they go down to Pi-raeus." That's the MP talking there. Not going to have Sagitarin style surprises with Taurons on board, no way. "Yeah, I'll look him up. Be my pleasure to let'm shoot a direwolf or two."

Toby isn't entirely convinced that, if he'd been in their position, he'd have agreed to evacuate if he'd known straight up about the skinjobs in the fleet. Or at least he thinks he isn't convinced, it's getting harder to tell and he shakes his head briefly to try and keep clarity of thought for a few moments longer. "Good," he answers, to the remark about them being clean of jacks before he squints a little at Lleufer to try and follow everything the MP is saying.

Leightner nods, putting the syrenge away, "Aye, considering they'll be building a new town, they'll be huntin a bit I figure." He smirks slightly, seeming pleased with the state of the refugees at the moment. Stepping back he nods slightly satisfied as a call comes and he looks that way, and back, "Looks like I'm needed. I'll have ta get back later, alri?" He smiles, "Call if ye need anythin Toby." He says before nodding to Ynyr, and heading off.

Lleufer gives Leightner a nod as the Corpsman moves to depart, "Yeah, they'll need to be armed on Piraeus. And be able to hunt for themselves." Lleu looks back to Toby who's pretty doped up now and he smiles, "I should let you rest but I'll check back in later, all right?" He moves to stand, "Get better."

Toby flicks his eyes over towards Leightner as he moves away, although by the looks of things he isn't going to be in a fit state to call for anything for a while now. The mental fog is well on the way to complete vistory inside his head as Lleufer starts to stand, as evidenced by the delay between the movement itself and the deckie's comprehension of it. Rolling his head back towards the MP he gives a slow, unco-ordinated nod as the words sink though and then he's out.


Phin wanders into Sickbay. In his off-duties and under his own power. Not even looking green or anything. Maybe he's just visiting. He stops at the front desk station, flashing a half-smile at the nurse on duty and making some quick inquiries. How're the folks who've come back from Minos, that sort of thing.

Toby is still red-tagged and under close observation in the main part of the sickbay. It's been a while now since his lat dose of morphine, so he's flirting on and off with the concept of conciousness once more. At first glance, he looks pretty frakked up, those bits of his torso that aren't obscured from view by covers or bandages appear to have formed one large, mottled bruise and there's smaller scrapes and bruises along his arms. He is however now looking more alive than dead, which is a distinct improvement.

Whether Toby was one of those Phin was specifically inquiring about or not, he definitely notices the very wounded deckie. And heads back toward where he's bedded up, once he's done at the desk. He tries to approach as unobtrusively as possible, so as not to disturb the man if he's asleep. Or otherwise unconscious, as one is occasionally apt to be in Sickbay.

Toby is merely resting his eyes a moment, honest. As the sound of somebody approaching penetrates through to his brain, and is not immediately followed by some form of medical question or jargon, he cracks one eyelid open a fraction. There's a moment or two's blinking to adjust to the light and then he's squinting a little until he can focus on Phin's face. His last drink having been before the most recent morphine his mouth has dried up again but he does manage to give the pilot a brief nod in acknowledgement and greeting.

Phin has wandered into Sickbay. Under his own power and neither green nor bleeding, so he's probably just visiting. He's swung by the spot where Toby's bedded up just now. "Hey, Crewman." He keeps his voice low, so as not to startle the wounded tech too much. "I'd ask how it was going but…" Obvious.

Toby just nods back at that. In other circumstances it might have warrented an amused laugh or some such, but just breathing hurts so there's no way he's subjecting his chest to that sort of work out. "Fairly sure I was dead," he replies with concentration, dry throat and mouth making volume and steadyness difficult, "'m told that hurts less though."

With the sheer influx of wounded, and by wounded Sam means any of the civilians or the military personnel who cycled through, the triage process was not pleasant. Those that remained on the ship were within the realm of what they could treat and convalesce here, with limited bed space. The hospital ship, and then every other sick bay for every ship that's in sector, was likely put to good use as well. Beckwith (Carmine) is one of those who was tagged and flagged for the Orion specifically and, due to the nature of his wounds, he's been in/out of surgery twice thus far. Having been out of surgery, the second time that is, for several hours now the marine's medicine has been adjusted and tempered several times until a balance between 'comfortable' and 'comatose' is achieved. Sam is making the rounds of he wounded, updating charts, adjusting treatments accordingly, etc.

Having been staring at the cieling for the past few hours, Carmine fumbles for the bed controls. raising his head so he can se around the room, the Staff Sergeant does not look happy. Small pneumatic sounds eminating from the bed every time he breathes in, he almost sounds like a scuba diver. Someone has taken his teeth and his cigarettes, The Morphine wasn't working, and that Frakking Dragon was in the rafters Singing Barry Manilow tunes again. Looking around muzzily, he sees Toby. raising a hand, Carmine gives him the thumbs up, stops, checks that he is actually giving the thumbs up and not flipping the man off, then gives the thumbs up with a satisfied nod once more.

"If you stay on the morpha, chest wounds aren't so bad," Phin says wry. He speaks from experience. "Anyway, the freighters got back. Don't know if anybody told you." He turns his head at the sound of movement, noting Samtara and offering her a polite, respectful nod. No verbal greeting, though. She looks busy. He notes the raised thumb from Carmine and, though it's not for him, offers the man in the other bed an open-and-close of his palm in a wave. Hullo.

Toby is lying pretty much flat, bar the whole pillow thing of course and besides a few small, vague gestures with his hands once in a while, it's only really his head that he's been moving. With the damage inside his chest his breathing is shallow, but backed up by the aid of a cannula it seems to be doing the task okay. Carmine's imediate gesture is missed, as he's focusing his efforts on tracking Phin, but as the pilot offers the marine a wave he catches on and returns the thumbs up with a faint nod. Then, he rolls his head back to look at Phin at the mention of the freighters, giving the pilot a faint smile before taking his time to say, "suspected so. Was on one, in the end."

"Easy," Sam says quietly to Beckwith, arriving at his bedside and giving his monitors a long look, adjusting his meds once more. "I didn't have a chance to do a formal intake on you before you were wounded.. Your file was very coherent, which I'm impressed by. Any allergies that you didn't have included in your file?" she asks, better to ask late than never. The arrangement of patients has Carmine a few beds away, close enough that she can move between the list of critically wounded personnel. "I've been elbow deep in wounded since all of you returned. Someone want to read me in, on the short version that is?" she wonders politely before asking of Phin, "and would you care for a cup of coffee?"

Looking at Sam for a moment, Carmine speaks quietly. "I'm allergic to….Penicillin and….Orbital Bombard…ment. It makes me…break out…in Holes." Closing his eyes for a moment, he stops fighting the machine trying to regulate his breathing. Frowning as he thinks internally. 'Ok Frakking machine. you win this round' Just leting himself breathe for a moment, he adds. "If you…get my Rifle…I think we could….have Fried Dragon….for supper…Can't stand another…round of….Copacabana."

Phin shakes his head at Samtara. "I'm fine, Doctor, thank you. Just came by to see how the guys from the ground on Minos were doing." Carmine's comment about orbital bombardment allergies makes him chuckle, though he tries not to laugh too hard.

Toby will let Carmine fill Sam in on the events on Minos. Mostly what comes to mind for him is the press of civillians, the explosions as the basestars openned up, agonising pain, the utter certianty that he was about to die and last, and in every way worse, the sight of Tauron burning away, filling about half the sky above them. He actually flinches at that recallection and turns his face away from the others for a few moments. It caught him by surprise and he doesn't roll his head back towards them again until his walls are back up and in place.

Sam taps one fingertip at Carmine's chart, "It's on every page of your chart, penicillin allergy that is, alarming shade of red you turn as well before the worst of the symptoms set in," she adds with a touch of a smile. "Fried Dragon?" she inquires of Carmine, confused. "Copacabana?" said next before she nods at Phin, "Every time I hear the word Minos I think of that old myth of the labyrinth and a minotaur and Minoans. Somehow I don't think this rescue op involved Minoans."

Closing one eye, Carmine raises a hand pointint at the cieling in a grogy fashion. "Frakking Big…Dragon…Singing showtunes now…" Closing the other eye now, he lets his hand fall. Passing out for a minute before his eyes open once more and he adds. "Rescue on Mono…meenoo…Minos…2 Basestars jumped into…orbit." Raising his hand he pantomimes falling rain followed by an exploding sign with a soft "Boom…No lube…didnt buy dinner…first."

"None that I could see from above, Doc," Phin replies to Samtara, as to Minotaurs. "Saw the basestars, though. Anyway, uh, I should get out of your way. There anything you want me to bring you while you're in here, Crewman?" That to Toby, though apart from that question he seems inclined to give the deckie some peace.

Sam follows Carmine's explanation, groggy that it is, with a frown on her face that is increasingly perplexed. "I. . don't think I . ." she starts to admit as his pantomime, "mmm," which is about as far as she gets before PHin speaks up. "Anything but food, booze or cigarettes," she pauses, flicks a glance from Toby to Carmine and back, "and strippers, none of which are allowed in here. Save the party material for when you're released, gentlemen."

Toby stays quiet as Carmine gives his version of the events, apparently feeling no burning desire to add anything to the outline already given. He's actually slowly starting to turn his face back up towards the ceiling when Phin's question drags his attention back to the others. "Drink," he starts first, a quick tilt of his head towards where, last he checked, Leighter had left a cup of water and a straw, "new ribs, lungs, other bits?" Then, after a brief nod in thanks for the consideration, "will let you know."

Opening his eyes again, Carmine looks at the doc and points to his cheek before he manages to say. "Coul use my…Teeth back…doc."

"Uh, no strippers. Got it," Phin replies to Samtara. He nods to Toby, heading over to get the deckie the indicated little cup of water and straw. He'll put that where it's somewhere within easy reach, even in Toby's heavily damaged state.

"Ahh, yes, teeth," Sam replies, finally figuring out what he's pantomiming about right NOW even as she didn't quite gather the gist of his previous remarks - and decided to not ponder on the gist after he'd finished being vague. "Yes. Cleaned," this part is important after all, "oh and in a nice sterile solution," she presents the container to Carmine with a smile of her own. After handing Carmine his teeth she nods at Phin, "Correct. No strippers. Do we even have those on board, I'd hope that we don't but certain things, details that is, escape me at times."

Toby eyes the cup briefly as it's set down, pondering the logistics of getting a drink from it without spilling everything everywhere as he does so. A plan forms, but he'll wait until there aren't people looking before he tries it, just in case. Phin gets another nod of thanks for pass it over and he ends up blinking a little at the apparent temporary obsession with teeth a few beds down, but all in all the recallections seem to have knocked him out of sorts and he keeps to himself, only half watching the others.

"There're some among the surviving civilians on Piraeus…umm…so I hear." Phin trails off and mumbles that last part. "Anyway. Later. Feel better." The last part is a sort of general Sickbay comment, before he heads off.

Taking his teeth out of the sterile solution, Carmine looks at them a little uneasily. They were so WHITE! Carmine kept them clean anyways normally. though he didn't bleach them. placing them in his mouth carefully and making a face at the taste of cleaning solution, and the reason Carmine never bleaches them becomes clear as the addition of sparkling white teeth make him instantly look like a cheesy gameshow host. Gnashing them once or twice, he nods. "Thanks Doc." His words not half so badly slurred as before, he closes his eyes again…now if he could just figure out a way to get a pouch of Amber leaf out of his locker.

Sam may not comprehend the draw back to looking like a gameshow host, but she appears quite pleased by the sight of those pearly shining white teeth in place once more. "There, that's better, yes?" she asks, trying to read Carmine's expression. "Ok, rate your pain, 1 being lovely 10 being ready to scream the roof down or is the use of exponents required?"

Looking at the ceiling, Carmine considers the question for a moment, then holds up 3 fingers shaking his hand side to side to indicate '3-ish' Really he was around 7 but he was a marine. if it weren;t for the fact that he had a huge hole in his chest he wouldn't even admit that he had nerves.

Having been a surgeon for a long enough time to be able to do Marine-math, Sam casually (silently) takes the 3-rating and doubles it to a modest 6-rating to give her a real more approximate number. Marines. "Got it," she says and adjusts the pain management medicine that he's on. "We're going to have you up on your feet at the end of the day tomorrow. It's going to be brief, mind, but it's important to see that you move around," sucking chest wound not withstanding, at least no alien tried to burst forth. Right?

Nodding, Carmine closes his eyes, taking a moment, he grunts. "Back on active…in a week? Can't vacation…too long…Platoon is short..handed."

"Good question," Sam replies without actually answering the question. "You'll be back on duty when your wound is healed and the stitches are removed. I can't send you back to duty with any open wounds. You have, as you know, perforations here and here," she sketches the locations of his chest wounds just above the hospital gown that he's wearing. "It's one thing to have a scrape, that's a laceration that can be closed, will knit within a matter of days and needs only to be kept clean and allowed to air. These are perforations, they'll take longer to heal. But, thanks to your help and the rest of the group that went with us to Picon for that supply raid I have you on the best broad spectrum antibiotics that we have on hand."

Nodding slightly, Carmine closes his eyes again. Letting the breathing machine do it's thing for the space of 5 breaths, he speaks again. "Week and a half…then Doc…Went 15 days…with that bullet…in my left leg…No time…to convalesce." Pushing himself to a beter seated position, he blinks muzzily. At least the dragon sems to have flown away for the moment. probably heard him talking about shooting it and cooking it. me big hunter. Rar! This last thought actually makes Carmine chuckle. his body rocking visibly. "Don't suppose I could….Steal a wheelchair…to go get stuff out…of my Kit?" Stupid breathing machine. he was starting to feel like a badly played accordion.

Sam tucks her hands into her coat pockets, a trace of a smile forming as she replies: "One, you don't get to walk around with a hunk of lead in your leg chewing it's way through your muscle tissue until it cuts a channel of scar tissue that never entirely dissolves. Two, convalesce - in this usage - will be used to imply 'not actively getting shot at' at the present. Third," she lifts one shoulder in a shrug, "that depends on what stuff you're interested in. That," she nods toward the machine that's assisting his breathing, "is ensuring that your lungs don't fill with fluid, as drowning would be bad. Booze, alcohol, tobacco of any kind. Pick your poison other than things that I don't allow in sick bay and send someone to fetch it for you. You'll have no shortage of marine volunteers."

Looking at the machine, carmine considers this for a moment before replying. "The bullet…was on Picon…was 15 days…in the field…before we found a medic…to remove it…ours was dealing…with a sudden case…of being…dead." Another moment to let the machine do it's thing before he adds. "Just want my…chew. Works better than…morphine…gives me something…to bite…"

Sam holds one hand aloft briefly, "One moment," she says and walks through the room into her office, is gone briefly, then returns with a cup which she sets down on the table alongside Carmine's bed. "Ice chips, Staff Sergeant, are now your best friend. Tobacco, of any and all kinds, are loaded with carcinogens. I can't allow that. Pick something else," she suggests, taking a seat on the chair near the bed.

Looking at the ice chips, Carmine takes one, tucks it in his cheek, and frowns as it dissolves right away. Swallowing the water, he grunts. "Yeah…because it's Cancer…that's going to…kill me." Offering a wan smile at the statement, he looks pointedly down at his chest, then back to the doctor. "My sidearm then?"

"For what purpose?" Sam wonders of the last request. "I don't normally allow weapons in here, either. Last time we needed armed MP's in here the entire ship was trying to flush the One-model out of hiding so that it could be apprehended and dispatched accordingly." She's tucked her hands into her pockets again, "What would you need your sidearm for, this far inside the ship?"

Opening one eye, Carmine grunts. "Because after 3 days…of no Tobacco…you're going to….want to kill me…and I want to…be able to…defend myself." the look he gives is almost Baleful.

"How Convenient for you," Sam says with a sudden smile that's very Cheshire in nature, "we have a number of nicotine addiction treatments on hand. From patches to that nasty chewing gum and a broad range of medicines in between," see the afore-mentioned Cheshire smile. "So, no, as to the gun."

Considering that, Carmine nods "Gum isn't bad…tried the patche…once. Won't stay lit…and taste Terrible…when you chew them…I suppose instant…Coffee powder is…off the list…too?"

A startled burst of laughter escapes Sam, "I would think that setting the patch on fire would actually be more hazardous to your health than the tobacco itself is, the fumes and all," she says after shaking her head slowly. "And instant coffee is nasty, marine, you ought to know better than that. You want coffee I will get you coffee." She pauses, only briefly, "Tomorrow. We'll get you up on your feet for a very brief walk around the room and as reward, real coffee."

Nodding, Carmine lays his head back on the pillow fir a moment. lifting one arm to rest behind his head, he finally speaks after getting more comfortable. "Soffee would be….good too, Doc…but I'd like some…instant coffee crystals too…Please."

"And you need the instant coffee crystals for…?" Sam replies. "Eat something. Not suggesting you try a trip at a buffet table, though the mess will never actually qualify as a buffet. But. You need to eat."

Looking back to Sam, Carmine shrugs. "Tobacco replacement…works better than…nicotene gum or patches.." Squirming slightly on the bed, he adds. "And pants?"

"Hmm, let me think on that," Sam replies, tone of voice very dry, parched even. "No. Now, as to the pants, yes, we'll have them ready for you - along with slippers with no-skid grips on the bottom so that you don't go end over tip when you're walking around in here. But no smoke breaks. No booze breaks. No chewing or smoking or anything breaks that are contraindicated for your treatment plan. I promise, marine, that you'll be out of my sickbay faster if you follow the rules."

Considering Sam's words, Carmine sighs as his thoughts travel along the lines of 'I'd be out of here faster if I had a blowgun, a tranq dart and ready access to a wheelchair.' but he simply nods and replies. "Aye Sir." giving the best salute he can under the circumstances, leans over to the patient in the next bed and whispers quietly. "If you wake…up in the morning…having been scalped…I apologize…I'll return what…I don't smoke."

Sam rises to her feet, smoothing one hand over her lab coat as she fetches the blue ballpoint pen out of one pocket and reaches for Carmine's chart again, adds a few notes to it just to be on the safe side and returns the chart to the clip at the end of the bed. "So. I'll send one of the nurses over to discuss food with you. That, or we can talk IV nutrients," she offers, another shade of a smile.

Looking back to Sam, Carmine raises an eyebrow. "Unless you're intending…to mainline me…through the crotch…I'm out of…veins to use…But I'd be…happy with a…sandwich and a…bowl of soup…Doc…Not going to…fight food."

Sam arches one eyebrow ever so subtly at Carmine, "I'm sure that I could do a mainline without having to resort to that particular approach," that dry humor again, "but lets try the sandwich and floating food approach. Though, just to be clear, food shouldn't float. It's disquieting but a somewhat efficient delivery method of nutrients. But, food is what we eat so that we don't die. So," she waves one of the nearest nurses over, "the marine would like a sandwich and a bowl of soup. Lets see about getting him fed properly. And no, he's not cleared for any trips in a wheelchair and his marine buddies aren't allowed to bring him tobacco of any kind," a nod aimed at Carmine, "rest up, marine. We'll have you back to your platoon
soon."

Offering another salute, Carmine replies. "Aye, Sir." after a moment, he looks at the man to his left and speaks softly again. "Private Goom…Did our head…of Medicine just…say that she…Distrusts soup?"

Private Goom, who at this point is doing his best to pretend he;s in a coma to avoid being attacked by the Staff Sergeant, says nothing until he feels a wet fingertip being slowly inserted into his ear. Looking over to see carmine half out of his bed to reach that far, the Private whimpers. "I'm not Sure Staff Sergeant. I was asleep."

Puling himself back into the bed, Carmine resettles himself and sighs. Day 1…boredom set in. He was fully expecting by day 4 that there would be no survivors

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