| Calm Like A Balm |
| Summary: | Khloe gets treatment for the shock she sustained during the Swarm X fight. |
| Date: | 27 Feb 2042 AE |
| Related Logs: | Swarm X |
| Players: |
  |
| Sickbay - Deck 10 - Battlestar Cerberus |
|---|
| Being able to accommodate combat casualties requires room, and the Sickbay has it. Beds line each side of the room with privacy curtains strung up and readily available. Large vaulted lockers hold access to the supplies at the far end of the area. Nearer the front, a Petty Officer sits ready to dispense simple items like ibuprofen and aspirin. Further to the rear is an area prepped twenty-four hours a day for emergency surgery. To the side are a set of double doors that lead to the Recovery Ward where patients can recuperate. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #367 |
Having aided a few of the rougher pilots down, the sickbay isn't quite as on alert as it has been in the pass. For the most part, everyone is breathing and walking under their own power - which is a good thing. Circe enters and shucks off her top dress, leaving her in a t-shirt and tugging on gloves to move to help with the next patient.
Pulling up the tin dump can, she waits and holds while the shrapnel is extracted and deposited. Once done, she sets it aside and moves on, checking on the next who is waiting.
Khloe is clearly at the bottom of the list, having taken no appreciable physical damage from this recent salvo. Flight suit stripped down to her waist and tied off in the common post-flight fashion that pilots adopt who cannot retreat to the berths for a proper shower and change of clothes, she sits in one of the waiting room chairs, leaning back with her eyes closed.
Waiting though Khloe may be, it is not long before Circe steps outside and looks about. Catching the familiar form of Poppy, she clears her throat, "Captain..if you would. I have a cot open." She says as she steps closer. "Mind giving me an idea of what happened?" She asks the woman, going to guide her towards the cot and amongst the other bodies moving about.
At being addressed, she launches to her feet - an awkward movement that requires her to push up with her arms and rely on her left leg. On the way over she's rather slow, clearly favoring her right leg, which is causing her some difficulty, if not outright pain. "Just give me a moment," she insists. "Took a shock to the leg, a secondary bus fried and it electrified a panel by my right leg. Suit did its job, I'm not actually burned, but my leg is alternating numb and pins-and-needles. More pins than numb, now, it's wearing off."
Offering her arm for the Captain, Circe pauses for her. "I see, we will get a look at it just to make sure you don't have any burns actually. It can be caused despite there being insulation." She advises and then helps the Captain towards the cot and helps her to sit. "Going to need the flightsuit off, sir." she says and the Creman lowers to a knee to undo the boot upon the foot of the leg that has been affected.
"Trust me, I know what a burn feels like." And, much to the credit of sickbay and modern burn treatment, only slight discolorations exist on Khloe's right shoulder and upper arm, exposed due to the fact that she's stripped to her waist with black tank-top underneath. The Captain was on CAP, and likely is not wearing several layers. "I'll do it myself," she hisses, swatting away whomever's undoing her boot. Do not touch.
Boots come off, suit gets shaken out of, leaving Khloe in said tank top and briefs. Discoloration on her upper hip from her previous injuries, but they, too, are healing nicely. A large red circular welt is centered on her thigh, indicating where the discharge struck, and is beginning to discolor as consistent with blunt force. Likely the voltage struck her so hard there was a physical component to the strike.
Turned away, Circe stands and waits for the Captain patiently. She studies the old wounds without saying a word, letting hazel eyes wander. Finally the newest of them is revealed and she narrows her eyes. The medic's gloves crinkle a little as she draws closer and places her hand near the wound, not touching it quite yet. "Well you are right sir, no burns. Excuse me a moment." She uses two fingers together to press lightly upon the welt, attempting to see if compaction is occuring.
Khloe doesn't make a sound when Circe probes and pushes, although she does make a wincing face. Her right arm gets draped across her midsection, hugging - it's a little cold in here - and idly scratches at the inside of her left arm. Possibly drawing Circe's attention, she has extensive, old surface scarring there, characteristic of someone whose abused morpha and likely other injected chemicals. "I can wriggle my toes, does that count?" She asks in her usual alto, albeit a quieter voice. Still sounding her usual gruff self, she's trying to diffuse the tension. "Sorry. I don't deal with being touched, very well."
"I understand." Circe says and she makes no comment upon the injection sites. Instead she glosses over them and notes them for herself before drawing her hand back. "A little compaction of skin, going to give you a hard nub for a little bit till it starts to weaken. May cause some itching and tightness, but otherwise I think you will be fine. We will get something on the exterior to ease the drying and so forth of the skin. Help the itching." She says and then adds. "And I will also get you some low-grade painkillers."
"No," Khloe states quickly, gaze hardening. "No drugs. Do what you have for my leg, but no pills. I didn't take pain pills for my burns, why the frak would I take something for something as trivial as this?" In fact, if Circe were to check Khloe's record, she has a history of refusing pain medications except in the most dire of circumstances. She even has a note from command, 'Do not administer narcotics unless pilot's life is in danger.'
Hopping up from the cot, less awkwardly this time, she tentatively flexes her leg before moving to redress. "Feels fine," she lies.
The refusal catches the medic offguard. She pauses, lips parting but yet she makes no reply. Circe's brow lifts and she merely nods, "As you wish it. Just let me get you some of that balm for the leg. You will wish you had it in a few hours." She instructs. "Sir, you will take it, yes?" She doesn't probe, doesn't ask but such things have not been lost to her attention. She waits then, watching the Captain.
Khloe tugs her flight suit back up around her waist, re-tying it snug. "Yes, yes, of course I will," comes her lackadaisical reply. "I might be a jagged bitch, but that doesn't mean I don't the merits of balms and skin cream." She rests her hands on her hips, giving Circe a tired, mildly exasperated look. "Any time, crewman. Thank you for your attentions, but I have birds to get back in the air."
Thinking better of it, she bites down her reply and moves, "Yes, sir." She states. Circe is on the move then, heading over to the supply stocks and sifting through the drawers. She trails her fingers over the small tubes and then pulls one free. "Here you are.." She says and turns, double checking it and then handing it off to her, "At least twice a day for now, maybe more for the first couple of days." She says and then nods her head to the woman.
Khloe accepts the balm, gives a curt nod, and begins her awkward gait towards the exit. It's clear she's getting more function back by the minute. She carefully palms the medication, tucking it surreptitiously behind her wrist, attempting to hide from everyone she passes that she has "something prescribed from medical" - even something as benign as balm. Woman has issues.