Difference between revisions of "Logs:Standard of Care"

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.

It was hard to catch K'zin awake. That much would become apparent quickly. « He rests. They care for him well. He will be fine, »> was Rasavyth's resolute answer to all inquiries. One who might sneak in (past Rasavyth in the bowl, though perhaps the healers don't care quite so much as long as the bronze weyrling isn't continuing to push himself as he was when he was with the wing), would find K'zin sprawled on an infirmary cot, sheets sprawled across him where he wears sleep pants and shirt, both black, worn, and his own (Tela might recognize the holes from the many many many other times he's worn the ensemble). His brow is dotted with sweat, hair glossy and mussed from a day of sweating and sleeping, his dusky complexion paler by far than usual. He looks done in, though not likely on death's door, or anything so dramatic. It might, of course, be unnerving to see one who has always looked so healthy looking now so sick.

Telavi may be sneaking, but it's not so much a sneaky sneaking and more waltzing in from the living caverns like she has every right to be there. Which works fine, complete to the bright, friendly smile for Jinja and the blindingly bright one for poor Treinan, until she's finally made it to the cot in question, and she's faced with the wan K'zin upon it. Wan, sweaty, and with holes in his clothes. Can she take it? She looks horrified, and although if he hasn't woken up with her walking there then he probably isn't likely to wake up when she departs, still she has to practically tiptoe away until she gets far enough to ask one of the helpers who should know: doesn't he have any other clothes? Any clean clothes? Without holes?

The helpful helper can only note that they think these are the ones he asked for? They were brought, at any rate, by a woman along with a book that the helper swears he hasn't cracked because he can't seem to stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time. Some of that, the helper comments, is because of the medicine. Better that he sleeps. So it is that K'zin is still asleep when Telavi makes her return.

But is there another pair? There had better be another pair. Telavi looks particularly stern about that, at least as much as she can get away with while not calling upon Jinja or getting the other girl in trouble. Those, the black ones, must be washed and sent back to her, in that order, and she will see to their mending, because that is inexcusable. She'd toss her hair before going back, but when it's braided up like that, it's practically immovable and that just doesn't have the same effect. What she does do is warily eye K'zin from well beyond arm's length, as though his fever might be a ring of fire that she refuses to cross. Finally, she sits upon the neighboring cot and works on the wax slate she'd made off with along the way. It's a big one, so there's room to write, but she keeps the lettering small but readable without bothering to disguise her handwriting any. 'K'zin's List of Visitors' is underlined at the top. Beneath appear the names of such luminaries as Moreta ("I came back from the dead to save you from this plague, too!") and Robinton ("I sang you the song I wrote just for you. Everyone was in tears, it was so amazing, because I am just that amazing!") and T'soan, hero of the last Pass ("Did you know that you timed it back and saved us all before perishing dramatically? Because you did, don't forget!"), as well as someone just as believably named Random Cook ("See if I ever feed you again. Bread and water, forget it."). After adding plenty of bullet points for other people in between, she adds her name at the bottom in even smaller letters, and if that's right where it's apt to get smudged by other people's thumbs, so be it.

Another pair? The helper doesn't know, but the stern look has him promising to find out. Immediately even, if that gets him away from Telavi's Stern Look (tm) sooner. He can't seem to resist pointing out as he flee--er, goes, that the holey pants belong to the patient. As Telavi works, there comes a moment of stirring, followed by blinking of bleary, sleepy eyes on the part of the sickly man. He rolls in the cot, happening to be rolling toward her and ends up blinking more, slowly, "Tela?" His voice is raspy, and even the one word prompts a series of coughs as he starts to try to sit up.

Telavi doesn't waste a retort on the helper: she has connections. And if they don't work, she'll just have to bear it, although if those holes keep increasing, eventually someone else will have to bare it. Besides, she's on slate-duty. She hasn't finished putting in decorations down the side when K'zin stirs, so it takes the creak of the cot for her to look over and then suddenly look worried all over again. She's spent the scant time since that conference with Jinja, and that hug in the dragon infirmary before it, second-guessing every headache of hers and sniffle and bout of tiredness. "Careful. Careful-careful-careful," only it turns out carefulcarefulcareful. "Yes, it's me. Lie back, K'zin? You're going to be fine." Isn't that what you say to people who are sick? Perhaps there's a touch of satisfaction in her voice for getting to repeat those words back to him, but it's offset by the way her hands hold on hard to the edge of the slate so they won't flutter, because she has to stay put, because ring of fire.

Between the illness and Telavi's encouragement to lie back, K'zin does that, too readily almost. The pillow squishes his face a little as he continues to blink at her, looking as though it's difficult for him to keep his eyelids open. "Sorry, Tela," comes his next raspy murmur. What is he apologizing for? Maybe he doesn't even know. He looks pretty out of it.

So Tela asks. "What are you even apologizing for?" The words come out oddly, like she'd like to emphasize so many of them. She hesitates on the edge of the cot, setting the slate aside, swapping it for the pillow from the cot she's sitting on and hugging it.

"Mmm," K'zin makes the noise, but it's like he's trying to make other words and just so tired. "I-- had something. I just don't remember. Maybe for being sick?" It takes him time to get all of these words out and the phrasing is stilted, like he's pushing the words through blankets of mud, or perhaps ooze, to pop them into the air. "I suck. I'm sorry. Should've been--" But whatever he should've been is lost to the flutter of eyelids that don't open again. His breath suddenly slows, and even when a cough comes moments later, that doesn't seem to rouse him again.

Telavi's leaning forward as he begins to speak again, and then more forward, and then she has to put one foot out for balance so she can lean some more, listening. "Talking to a healer sooner," she murmurs, less out of conviction that that's what he'd meant and more that it's something she does know, she thinks, something that somehow could have made it all better if only it had been in time. It's what succeeds the cough that troubles her, or rather what doesn't, and if she'd seemed worried before she's more worried now. But he is still breathing, right? She listens. Then abruptly she stands, still hanging onto the pillow but then hooking the slate by its cord on the post of his cot, even if she does have to reach into the ring of fire to do it. She's off to find not just any old helper but one who knows something, then, to look K'zin over just in case before she sees herself out.