Logs:Necessary Hardships
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| RL Date: 3 August, 2014 |
| Who: Miska, Tayte |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Tayte consults the local authority (Miska!) and finds out that she is, indeed, pregnant. |
| Where: Infirmary, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 9, Month 6, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: H'vier/Mentions, K'del/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Talk of miscarriages, pregnancy, etc. Back-dated. |
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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.
Being the healer is slightly more awkward than being the patient, but Miska is, as ever, full of good cheer and the positive side. "Well," the healer begins as he sits up, tucking the white sheet back over Tayte. "I can tell you what you aren't going to be doing." He stands and moves to the wash basin nearby, dutifully scrubbing his hands with soap and a mild antiseptic. "No heavy lifting, nothing more than one glass of wine a day, and be careful with travel." When he turns around, he waves his hands and smiles, "Congrats! You're having a baby." Then he waits - for.. shock? happiness? tears? Who knows, with this line of work. There's silence as Tayte listens to the healer, silence as he makes his pronouncement. Silence as she draws a handful of slow breaths, though she doesn't continue to look at the healer for those. Then she takes a moment to rearrange herself and sit up, hands falling into her lap. "I thought..." She starts quietly and then doesn't finish. Finally, she looks up at the healer. "I've had two miscarriages. What do I need to do to keep this baby?" Well, at least that means it's a wanted baby, so no tears then, at least not now. "That's right, I remember reading that," Miska murmurs as he seats himself on a stool, one ankle balanced precariously on the opposing knee. He grabs her chart, flipping through the pages, until he finds what he was looking for. "Miscarriage recently too." His face becomes drawn, solemn, before he settles sympathetic eyes on the vintner. "Here's the thing-- I can't make any guarantees. With your history of miscarriage, it's likely you could have another, but it's just as likely you could carry this baby to term. I can prescribe modified bed rest if it will make you more comfortable. Worrying less, travelling less, those things can help too. Focus on keeping the baby and yourself healthy, take it one day at a time, and anytime you feel any discomfort or have even the slightest bleeding, you should come here right away." Tayte is not about to feel sorry for herself at a time like this. No, she has absolute focus on his words. Though she doesn't specifically say so, she must be taking it all in. When she speaks again, it is to ask, "What does modified bed rest entail?" "In the most basic terms, take it easy. No exercise or heavy labor. I suggest no more shifts at the Snowasis. Do something menial for now - like paperwork." Miska sets aside his own paperwork, regarding the vintner with a calm face. "Don't stress. If your mental status is negative, you will only stress your body out, which is bad for the baby. I know we live in a Weyr and it's hard to stay still, to stay calm, but it would be in your best interests at this time." Tayte's fingers clench the sheet at his suggestion regarding Snowasis. "I'll lose my job." What was that about not getting stressed out? The vintner closes her eyes some long moments, her expression pained. Then quietly, "Whatever needs to be done. I'll do it." She reaches up to smooth down her hair as if this will help her regain some measure of composure. "I'm sure I can work something else out. K'del will help." She says firmly, nodding probably more for herself than for the healer. Then she looks up at Miska, "You won't speak of this to anyone, will you? You're not an easily intimidated man, are you?" Now she's looking at him as though measuring him up. "Unfortunate side effect of bed rest." Miska looks amused, despite the circumstances, but that subsides when she starts asking him those funny questions. "I am not at liberty to discuss your chart with anyone else, if that is what you are asking." His usually amiable face distorts, his voice lowering, "What do you mean, easily intimidated? Do I have something to worry about? I have yet to reveal a patient's personal charts. I do not intend to start 'now'. of all times." Briefly, so briefly, Tayte's expression says she's the one he might have to worry about because she's liable to knock that amusement right off his face. Hormones! But the look is gone in a heartbeat as she looks down at the sheet, her fingers smoothing it out, "My ex," is what she says instead. "He has a temper and he'll want to know if it's his." Hastily, "It isn't, but for him to think it might be will leave me no rest. He might seek to press you for when I conceived or when I am due. I fear that he's too stupid for many things," like knowing not to threaten a healer, "But not for that kind of math." She looks up to meet the healer's eye to relate matter-of-factly, "He's a very tall, very muscular man with brown hair and a shaggy beard. A bronzerider by the name of H'vier. If he gives you any trouble, please don't hesitate to go straight to K'del." She sounds quite serious, though a glance is cast to the rest of her clothing. Likely, she doesn't wish to linger. A quirk of the brow, a slight change in the span of his mouth. "I see," is all Miska says for a minute, letting her words sink in. "Far stupider men have tried. I cannot confirm nor deny conception, it is such a slippery number. It could have been the third or fifth day, really." With that, he's up and shuffling his paperwork together, casting a glance back at his patient. "Your secrets are safe with me. Please, feel free to come by if you have the need to talk - we have mindhealers for that sort of thing." He tips his head, making to move out of the curtained off alcove. It's probably because of Tayte's long and intimate knowledge of H'vier's stupidity that even those words from Miska do not seem to reassure her. She doesn't speak in time to ask when she'll be due, but no matter. She'll beg an aide to fetch him for her so she can ask before she takes her leave. For now, she takes three breaths to calm herself and then with dignity and purpose, rises to dress herself, taking three more breaths before leaving the alcove. She would speak to Miska again briefly, and then K'del, surely at some greater length if he could spare the time. |
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