Logs:In which Taikrin has a massive headwound!
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| RL Date: 16 February, 2010 |
| Who: G'brion, Taikrin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Falling rocks in the worksite leaves Taikrin with a messy scalp injury-- it's Apprentice Healer Gabrion to the rescue! |
| Where: Infirmary, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 8, Month 13, Turn 21 (Interval 10) |
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| Infirmary, High Reaches Weyr Two sets of double doors, one from the the inner caverns and a recently built set from the dragon infirmary, lead into the unnaturally hushed human infirmary. Despite fastidious cleaning, the scent of redwort and numbweed has long since soaked into every smooth-carved surface, along with other, subtler medicinal smells. Pristinely made cots are lined up against the walls; most of them are left open to view, but some in the back are surrounded by curtains for delicate procedures or critical patients. About halfway between the two entrances is the counter for the healers on duty; it guards the entrance to the storage rooms just beyond, their shelves and cabinets lined with meticulously labeled bottles, boxes, jars, and even vats of supplies. The Weyrhealer's office is also here, along with another side room for mixing up medicines and the like. Contents: Gabrion Obvious exits: Dragon Infirmary Inner Caverns Offices Working late again. Gabrion is at the front desk, with papers strewn all over the desk - diagrams and commentary on diagrams of human bodies. He's so intent on them that he doesn't even hear footsteps coming down the corridor. There are glows open in the back of the infirmary, so someone must be back there, but up in front Gabe is all alone. The sound of irritating muttering precedes Taikrin and her escort's entrance to the infirmary. The overseer accompanying her is a large man, his voice gruff as he ushers Taikrin into the room. "Get moving, girl. Can't have you bleeding all over the place." There is a decent amount of blood: Taikrin is holding a wadded piece of dirty cloth against the side of her head. "Movin' fast as I can 'ere! I'm the one with the head wound!" The supervisor only grunts in reply, before fixing Taikrin with a fierce glare. "And be quiet!" His attention shifts towards where Gabrion is sitting. "You there, boy! You on duty tonight?" Muttering Gabe can read right through, but 'bleeding all over the place' gets his attention, and he leaps to his feet. "What happened?" he asks as he hurries around the desk to meet Taikrin. "Ooooh, you're bleeding. Come on back and let me get you a clean cloth. Journeyman Syef's on duty." He catches the supervisor's eye, and gestures at the chairs lined up for people to wait in, then beckons Taikrin to follow him, and hurries into the back, ducking into the first of the exam cubicles and grabbing a clean handful of gauze to give her, to replace that dirty cloth. The supervisor makes to follow Gabe, then reluctantly subsides at mention of the journeyman on duty. "I'll be right out here if there's trouble. You just give a shout out. And you." At this, he fixes his harshest glare on Taikrin. "Best behavior, you hear me?" Taikrin makes a face, but capitulates with a sullenly mumbled. "Yessir, promise I'll be good." She pulls the filthy rag off her head without comment, holding it out to Gabe as she follows. The gash is partially revealed, several inches long but not terribly deep, just above her temple and into her hairline. Bits of rubble still in her hair give a hint to the origin of the wound, which is only furthered by: "Rutting ceilings really need to stay in /place/ fer once." "Yow. That had to hurt," Gabe says in sympathy when he sees the wound. "Hold that on there, put pressure on it while I get set up here." He's pouring some liquid into a basin, and laying out what's needed to bandage Taikrin up, and then he pops his head out of the cubicle long enough to call out, "Hey, Syef! Somebody's gashed her head open." Then he turns his attention back to Taikrin. "So, what fell on you? And how hard did it hit?" he asks. Taikrin lets out an affirmitive grunt, reaching a hand up to push the clean gauze against the side of her head. "S'not the worst I ever had, but it didn't feel too good. We had bits falling from the ceiling at the site all day. Wrong place at the wrong time, this time. Sharp one got me. Again." Indeed, the hand that's pressing the cloth to her head bears several half-healed gashes of likely similar origin. "Didn't get knocked between or nothing, though." There's a pause as she seems to really look at Gabe for the first time, then the somewhat wary question: "Hey... you done this before, right? Ain'cha kinda young?" "Cleaned and bandaged wounds, sure," Gabe assures her, not contradicting her observation about his youth. It's true. "If you need stitches, the journeyman will help. I'm Gabrion," he adds. "What's your name?" Gabe remembers at this point that he hasn't washed his hands, yet. Fortunately there's a little washstand for that purpose right here. As if on cue, Syef appears in the entry to the cubicle and smiles at Taikrin. He's huge, built like a brick house. "Hello there," he says mildly to her. Taikrin eyes Gabrion up and down, clearly unconvinced, but doesn't push the matter. "Any healer's better'n no healer, I guess." She shifts on her feet, finally subsiding down to sit on a cot. "Taikrin. From, uh. Crom." As if that wasn't obvious from the guard who still sits, somewhat impatiently, at the other side of the informary. The appearance of the journeyman earns a start of surprise, which jostles her hand against her wound and prompts another grunt. "Uh. Hi. Sir. Sorry ter be disturbing you all. Miner's insisted." "It's no trouble at all," Syef assures her. "You look like you took quite a knock there. Gabrion, have you screened for concussion?" The apprentice shakes his head. "Not yet, I was just getting everything set up..." and he gestures at the layout of Healer Bandagey Stuff. Syef nods in acknowledgement and holds up fingers in front of Taikrin's face. "How many fingers?" he asks her. "Do you have any blurry vision? Dizziness Head hurting?" "Shards are comin' down sharp. Think they broke into a flint vein, the way stuff keeps flaking down on us. Sir." Taikrin shakes her head, then sucks in a breath at the jarring she gives herself. "Ain't taking real hard knocks ter get bloodied up." She peers up at Syef, squinting at his hand. "Three, sir? Ain't too dizzy or nothin', walked in here own my own I did. Hurts a bit. I guess." She shoots a glance towards Gabrion, then straightens with bravado. "Had worse. Seen worse. Boy, uh--" An awkward look at Syef, then, "-- healer boy, you ever had ter get Cromcoal dust outta someone's innards? Nasty stuff, that." "Me? No." Gabrion seems impressed. "Has that - happened to you?" he asks cautiously while Syef takes a look under the gauze at the wound, hmms to himself, and excuses himself to go wash up, saying, "Gabrion, get that cut cleaned out for me. I'll be back in a few minutes to stitch it up." Gabe waits until he's gone to ask, "How do you get cromcoal dust in your innards?" even as he's wetting a cloth in his basin of liquid and gesturing for Taikrin to tilt her head toward him. Taikrin holds out the suspense for a moment, a faint grin quirking one side of her lips... then capitulates with a one-shouldered shrug. "Naw, not me. Guy on my work crew, though. Had a pretty nasty, uh, incident with a rock ax. He learned why ya don't try ta cut in front of the lifers in the food line, though." She grows thoughtful, musing, "'Course, he didn't much /eat/ after that." The now-bloody gauze is lowered from the headwound, and she tilts her head foward obligingly. "Sure you nice, civilized weyrfolks don't get so much excitement 'round here, though." Gabrion blinks a few times. A lot of times, actually; he looks like a stunned owl. "Not as much as that, no," he says quietly, as he reaches up to wipe the wound. "This will sting," he warns before he touches the wet cloth to Taikrin's head. "...didn't think there were any girls - women in the bunch of you," he admits, after a moment. "What did you do?" Taikrin squeezes her eyes shut, holding her head still with obvious stiffness. "Ah well, nice boy like you, hope you never gotta worry 'bout--" She breaks off with a hiss as the cloth touches the wound, but it's only a temporary pause. A moment later she continues, though with a bit more tension in her voice. "-- stitchin' up other people's nasty work." A short, harsh bark of laughter is let out. "Ain't many of us, for sure. Me, I ain't got such an interestin' story. Got picked up busting in a coupla heads over a coupl'a marks." She shifts in her seat, but is otherwise still. "How is it a little thing like you comes t'know so much about this stuff? You gotta be what... twelve turns? Thirteen, maybe?" After spending so much time with generally large, bulky convicts, Tai is obviously not such a good judge of age... "Fifteen," Gabe says, but he doesn't seem offended; he's used to it, since he looks young for his age. "I've been an apprentice for a few years now. My older brother, he's a journeyman, he's been a healer much longer. A real expert in first aid," he brags. "Once, he saved a guy's life who had a rock fall on him and busted his leg in three places. The bone was sticking out through the skin." Gabe finishes his cleaning work, and presses the gauze back against the wound. "Hold that there, please," he requests politely. As he turns away to wash his hands again, he asks, "So what happens if you... bust people's head in over marks? How long do you have to work?" "For true? Fifteen?" Taikrin's voice is filled with genuine surprise. "Never woulda thought it. Guess I'm gettin' old, huh." Her hand comes up to secure the gauze once more, and as her gaze rises back to Gabrion, it's appraising. "Following after yer big brother? I can respect that. Bone sticking out, that's nasty business. Seen men die after rockfall like that." A sharp nod is given, for emphasis. "Well, me, got inta one too many scrapes, so it was back to th'mines fer me. Two turns, hard work. Makes ya into an honest person, it does." A crooked, somewhat sly grin spreads across her face, calling that last remark into question. "Almost done with mine, now, so I get t'come up to the Weyr and all you nice, honest folk." "Yeah, it can be really bad, especially if you get an infection," Gabe agrees. "That's why we have to clean this out, but you're in good shape. When Syef comes back he'll stitch you up and then you'll be set to go." He perches on a cabinet to wait, watching Taikrin closely just to make sure she doesn't explode or start dying on him. "Do you know Brenoran? He's one of the other convicts." Taikrin shudders, and not apparently out of pain. "Infection's the worst thing you can get, in the mine. Guys let stuff go, end up loosin an arm or somethin'." But that half-grin returns not a moment later. "Ain't want to be loosin' my head, now." A pause, then: "Brenoran? No, but I was just called up a coupla days ago. Ain't had time t'meet everyone yet." She peers back up at the apprentice, curious. "You have to stitch him up, too?" |
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