| Mind Over Matter |
| Summary: | Hosedown has an aneurysm and needs to have surgery. |
| Date: | 24 Feb 2042 AE |
| Related Logs: | What's On Your Mind? |
| Players: |
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| Recovery Room- Deck 10 - Sickbay - Battlestar Cerberus |
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| A much more quiet area of Medical, this elongated room is also lined with beds. Each is similarly outfitted with privacy curtains as necessary and even the paint on the walls has been lightened in an attempt to help lift spirits. Chairs are readily available all over the place so that visitors can pull one up to talk to the patients during their recovery. Near the entrance, visiting hours are posted with a very conspicuous 'No Smoking' sign. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #363 |
Andrea is trying to read. She does that, occasionally. In this case, it is some romantic novel someone from the wing dropped off, and so far, she is managing to concentrate, even if her brow furrows with either a headache or reading compensation. At one point, she looks flat out skeptical, turns the book to look at its cover, shrugs, and moves on with reading. Ok, so if he was actually THAT gorgeous, then maybe she would let him get away with a pulling a move like that…
With the results of the MRI finally back, along with the blood tests, Cameron has spent the last thirty minutes or so going over the data and images carefully, determining the best of course of action before he even approaches Andrea with the results of his findings. Strolling through the recovery room with a file tucked under his arm, he smiles a little as he finds her reading a cheese romance novel. In times like these, the fluffier the fiction, the better most likely. Taking a seat next to her, he asks wryly, "Is that like scratching the itch? Cause honestly, I would think that would be more like taking a does of poison ivy after already having a case of poison oak."
Andrea chuckles. "Actually, the wild protestation of love from the venerable Rafe Stonetrousers are about as effective a cure for libido as any I have heard." With a sigh, she tosses the book to the side. "Besides, it seems I am surrounded by fine gentlemen who do not wish to take advantage of me in my condition. You're looking pretty darn kissable, doc, so what's up?"
"Oh, you sweet talker you," Cameron teases lightly in return as he pulls his file out. "I suppose your problem is that you are talking about "fine" and "gentlemen", neither of which generally take advantage of a lady when she is drunk, intoxicated, or suffering from a concussion. Though honestly, I'm curious to know who these fine gentlemen might be, since most of the MPs and pilots seems more likely to jump the bones of an available female than gallantly resist such base urges." Tapping the file with his hand, all teasing set aside now, Cameron explains, "I have your results back and I think I know what the problem is…"
Andrea pushes herself up in the bed so that she can be a bit more attentive, and ignores a wave of disorientation as she does so. "Ok, Doc. What's my problem, and how long until I'm flying again?"
Best to be direct with such things. "You have an aneurysm. That's a swelling of a blood vessel, in this case one that's inside your brain. The good news is that it hasn't hemorrhaged yet. The bad news it could hemorrhage at any time, and bleeding in the brain is never a good thing. On the plus side, it's easier to treat now than if it erupts. It also is pressing on your hypothalamus, which explains both your dizziness issues and your increased desire for sex. Once I clip the blood vessel in question, the swelling will reduce and the pressure will let up, and that should solve both of your problems." He gives Andrea a reassuring smile as he notes, "The surgery isn't that difficult and you should recover fairly quickly once it's done."
Andrea stares at him. "Holy crap… an aneurysm? So that means… brain surgery?" Well, again. "I mean…" she takes a deep breath. After all, she once flew her Viper out of a cloud of Raiders. "Ok. When do you start cutting?"
"That's correct," Cameron notes with a nod, "but not to worry. I'm an excellent neurosurgeon, so you're in good hands. And as brain surgery goes, it's not terribly invasive. I'll perform what is called a craniotomy to expose the aneurysm and then close off the base of it with a small clip. That's it. That will permanently eliminate the aneurysm." Leaning forward, Cameron shrugs slightly and replies, "I'd rather do it sooner than later, but it's up to you. I can do the surgery as early as today if you like, barring any attacks or emergencies cropping up in the meanwhile."
Though clearly terrified, Andrea nods and steels herself. "As soon as possible… they need me out there. But before you put me under… could I have someone from the Airwing by to hold my hand as I go down? I know you're good, I just…" she trails off.
Reaching out, Cameron places a hand over one of Andrea's and squeezes it reassuringly. "Lieutenant…. Andrea. There's no reason to be afraid. This is a good thing. You don't have a tumor, you haven't started hemorrhaging, and though invasive, the surgery is not particularly risky or dangerous and I've done it many times before. That said," he adds understandingly, "of course you can have someone from your wing by your side for the surgery if you wish. Is there anyone in particular you would like me to ask?"
Andrea nods to herself, taking deep breaths and calming herself. "Captain Khloe Vakos or Major Cidra Hahn," she says, quietly. It feels not entirely unlike crying to mommy when you get an owie, but there it is. Wade, of course, has more than enough to be getting along with on his plate. "If a nurse could just go ahead and send a message to either of them, that would be fine. Start prepping as soon as you're ready. The sooner this is done, the better for everyone."
"Captain Vakos or Major Hahn… got it," Cameron replies with a nod. "I'll see if either of them are available and schedule a time for the surgery." Patting her hand gently, Cameron rises up and assures again, "This is a good thing, Andrea. A solution that will fix both your problems and get you can in the cockpit within short order. I'll get the ball rolling for you…. back soon." And with that Cameron rises up and heads toward the front desk to make the arrangements.
A short while later…
Cidra arrives in Sickbay not terribly long after she's paged. In her flight suit, but she doesn't look like she's been up in awhile. Most pilots are wearing them whenever they can these days, given the Swarms that're hitting the ship every day. She's shown into the Recovery Room by a nurse.
Andrea's cot is back on wheels, with nurses prepping her for something or other. her head has been shaved again, carefully where earlier wounds are still healing, and she lays there, quiet, eyes closed. The only sign of her nerves are her hands clutching in her lap.
"Hosedown?" Cidra's voice is soft, but she has a way of projecting her Gemenese-accented alto without having to bark. She stops next to Andrea's cot, looking down at the Viper pilot.
Andrea's eyes open, and she manages a weak smile. "Hey, Toast. They figured out my dizziness, and the libido boost. It's an aneurism. They're gonna go to surgery soon, and try to take care of it." Her eyes are frightened, but the smile grows. "Doc says I should be in the air again not too long after. My body is basically healed… it was the damned dizzy spells keeping me in bed."
"Ah…" Cidra nods, though there is concern in her cloudy blue eyes that her generally inscrutable manner cannot quite mask. She reaches down an ungloved hand, to clasp one of Andrea's briefly. "Well then. That is to the good. We need you back in good repair and on the flight line, Demarcos. We are not so strong without you, and we need all our strength in these times."
"And after I'm back… after we've driven off the swarms…" Andrea looks around, her eyes suddenly focused. "Lampridis Falls, Toast. I had another dream, after the crash. We HAVE to go. I think time is getting short."
"We are being…driven toward it, it feels like…" Cidra says softly. "I intend to have a Raptor launched to Gemenon as soon as these Swarms stop plaguing us and we settle that business with the Cylon foundry." It apparently does not occur to her that this business could be a hallucination of some variety. The CAG is a believer, for better or worse. "Jugs shall fly it, if she is able. She has dreamed of this place too, she tells me. What we shall find there I do not know. There is little *actionable* to act on. And yet…it calls. And we can answer with a Raptor at least."
"Could I go with her?" Andrea asks. "And the others? Those who saw it?"
"A Viper does not possess a jump engine," Cidra says. "But perhaps you and Drips could ride along. Little sense in it but…little of this makes sense. There would be no harm in it, and perhaps you shall…I do not know. You have been gifted in some manner about this. Perhaps going along as a passenger will bring good omens, if nothing else."
"The gods might be using ME to steer humanity in the direction of survival…" Andrea says with a smile. "The old priest back home would cry if he heard that. He always said that I best served the gods by being a horrible example…"
"The gods work in mysterious ways, Andrea," Cidra says. "It is a blessing. Whether it be for the good or ill of the Fleet, I honestly do not know. There are dark omens in many of these dreams. Perhaps our doom lies on Gemenon. But this is a path we must at least try to tread upon. Whether it leads to anything or not." That said, she unclasps the woman's head. "Now. I am sure you physicians have work to do, to get you in better shape for the things to come."
It's probably a good thing that at this very moment Cameron is busy with pre-op, preparing the room for the surgery rather than overhearing this little conversation between Cidra and Andrea. It's never a good thing to be talking crazy talk right before a surgeon is about to cut into your brain. Might give said surgeon ideas of what else he might 'fix' while he's in there. Not one to buy into all the religious hocus-pocus fervor and highly dubious that everyone is suddenly a vessel for the Gods to speak to through dreams, he would be, quite frankly, horrified as well if he knew what the two pilots were discussing. With everything in readiness, however, there is only so much time for the two to talk before he arrives and gives Cidra a smile and a nod, greeting, "Major… good to see you again. I hope you've had some luck with that tea I prescribed you for sleeping?" She never came back, so hopefully it helped. Smiling down at Andrea, he greets, "Alright, Lieutenant, how are you feeling? Ready to return back to normal once more? Surgery room is all prepped, so whenever you're ready to go in, we're ready for you…"
The fervor and humor of before is gone, and Andrea reaches out to grab Cidra's hand. "Could you stay with me, Toast? At least until they put me under?" The look in her eyes radiates fear, and of course it does. They're about to cut into her head. AGAIN. "Just for a little while, please?"
"Doctor Adair." Cidra offers Cameron the faintest of smiles, though it's a friendly one. As to the tea, she nods. "It gave some comfort. And did not leave my head so cloudy as some…other remedies I had been experimenting with. You have taken good care of this one, as I do understand it?" She squeezes Andrea's hand again when hers is grasped. "I thank you for it. And could I? Stay until she sleeps, I do mean. I would not get in your way, but…"
"I'm glad to hear it helps… somewhat. I wish I could recommend something else that would help you actually sleep though. Perhaps we could do a sleep test, see if there is something in particular that is keeping you awake." Glancing back to Hosedown, Cameron notes, "Well, I was not her primary, but I'm glad that I can help Lieutenant Demarcos out now. Brain surgery sounds like a frightening thing, but really, this is not a complicated procedure and Andrea should be good as new after a few days of recovery, though I will want you to rest your head and try not to bang it around too much and undo all my good work." Smiling at the pair of them, Cameron nods and replies, "Of course. You won't be in the way at all." Glancing over his shoulder, Cameron waves to Circe, indicating she should come over before explaining, "Major Hahn here is going to be with Lieutenant Demarcos for the beginning of the surgery. If you could please get her scrubbed and prepped for the operating room and prep and bring in the Lieutenant, I would appreciate it." Turning back to the pilot's Cameron notes, "I gotta get prepped myself. See you all in there shortly," he offers with a warm smile before departing to do just that.
Andrea nods, and looks up at Circe with a smile as Cam indicates her. "Hey there… time to go back under the knife, huh?" She then looks back at Cidra and mouths a quiet "THANK YOU." Her eyes make it almost look like a "thanks, mom!"
Dressed in her duty uniform, Circe moves forward with a nod of her head as she looks to the Major with a faint smile, "Of course I can." Her gaze meets Hosedown's and she grins, her teeth showing white. "It sounds like it, how are you doing?" she asks, waiting for the answer before she looks to the two women as the doctor departs. "If you will follow me, I will get some of the nurses to help you Hosedown and I will get you ready, Major." She takes a step back and motions them to the side room outside of the surgery room.
She leads them in, the set of her boots hitting the metal flooring light as she pushes the door aside. She lets them enter and then closes the door behind. "The nurses will help get you changed Hosedown. They will have everything you need." She smiles gently to the woman and then looks to the Major. "Sir." she intones as the nurses lead Andrea off to get her changed and cleaned up for her surgery.
Circe, however steps over to a large sink and removes the overtop of her duty uniform in favor of her tank. She then begins to wash up. "Sir, if you are able to roll up your sleeves and get them to stay I would recommend it. Clean up your arms and I will get you some scrubs." She intones as she starts to lather up her arms and make room for the other woman.
"Thank you," Cidra says, with a bow-like inclination of her head to Cameron. Then she goes to be seen to by Circe. Simply unzipping and peeling off the top of her flight suit rather than rolling up her sleeves. "This is made for the vacuum, alas, and does not roll so easily. I can change out of it entirely. I am much practiced these last days of getting into it quickly, should the need arise."
Nurses help Hosedown up, and after the initial wave of dizziness, she proceeds to change into the attire they want her in for the surgery. She closes her eyes for much of it, and under her breath counts off various checkpoints… if Cidra hears, she recognizes the usual pre-flight for a combat launch.
Circe lifts her fingers to wick off most of the water from her arms after getting rid of the soap from her skin. "Good point." she says to the CAG and then steps about, shaking her hands a bit to let them air dry instead of using anything to help with the matter of water. She grasps clean scrubs and considers Cidra to her own size and matches them. She sets them out for the woman and then moves to pull on her own. Shirt up and over and then the pants, resting over her duty uniform. A hairnet is placed out as well as a mask. Attaching her own around her neck she fits her hair net in place and goes to wash her hands once more, lathering up again and re-rinsing in a ritual fashion before she steps back. "Ready when you are, sir." she looks to the other woman as the nurses are getting the patient into the room and comfortable.
Cidra is out of her suit, scrubbed, and into the medical garment as quick as she can be. Which isn't too long. She really is practiced at getting in and out of that thing. "I thank you, Crewman," she says simply to Circe for her assistance. "Ready indeed."
The cot on rollers is brought back over, and Andrea lays on it to be wheeled into the surgery room. Her eyes flick around as it starts moving, looking for Cidra. "Toast, Hosedown. I got enemy contacts up ahead, drawing in fast."
With a nod of her head, Circe leads the way into the room, stepping aside for Cidra as she holds the door. She draws up the mask and hooks it back over her ears. Hosedown in bed and properly covered, Circe steps to the side and lastly pulls at a set of gloves, motioning Cidra over as well. "Here, sir." She says past the warm blast of her breath rushing back at her from her mask. The crewman listens to the exclamation of Hosedown and she smirks a little. "You will tense yourself up with talk like that." Says Circe as she wiggles the plastic gloves on, moving over towards the woman.
Stepping into the operating room, Cameron instructs for Andrea to be placed on the operating table face down, a pillow cushioning her face and keeping it tilted down, exposing the shaved back of her skull. Though his mask hides the smile on his lips, it is more than 'audible' in his voice and hinted by the small crinkles at the corner of his eyes. "Major Hahn, if you would take a seat to Andrea's left in the chair provided, you can hold her hand for as long as you like. Giving Andrea a reassuring pat, Cameron watches as the nurse places an IV drip in her arm and starts the initial introduction of anesthetic. "Andrea? You're going to start feeling a little sleepy and disoriented now. That's perfectly normal. Just go with it. It's like a really good party drug, but without the loud music." And speaking of music, some soft cheerful Aerilonian music starts playing in the background, clearly something that Cameron must enjoy working to when he can. Signaling to the nurse, Cameron notes, "Okay, Andrea? I'd like you to count down backwards from 10. Okay? Go ahead…" The second drug hitting her system is a powerful one. In truth, Cameron will be surprised if she makes it past 10 at all. Cidra's 'work' here will be done in very short order.
"Copy that, Hosedown. Clear eyes and steady hands out there," Cidra says to Andrea softly as she's put under. The music draws a blink of surprise. She looks half-tempted to start bobbing her head, though she restrains that impulse.
"Music from home…" Andrea says with a smile, though it is obscured by the pillow. She gives Cidra's hand a squeeze as the medicine starts. "Ten… nuh…….."
Circe steps back and watches the whole ordeal, gazing up at Cameron and his eyes that peek out over the mask. She smiles softly and as Andrea finally fades, she looks to the CAG and stands back for the nurses till Cameron instructs her for the moment.
"Right, okay, let's get her on full anesthetic and close monitoring, prepare the incision point and the circular saw. I want suction and clips at the ready, get her on a saline drip and prepare for transfusion as necessary. Watch her BP and bring up the MRI charts. I want this to be a quick in and out, no fuss no muss." Turning to Cidra, Cameron points out, "The Lieutenant is out now, Major. You can stay if you like, after going through all the trouble to scrub up, but there's no need for you to do so if you have other things to attend to."
"I do not hear the klaxons yet, Doctor. I shall stay if you do not mind," Cidra says, staying out of the way so she can lurk unobtrusively while the Medical staff work. She looks half-tempted to ask about the music. But she tables that question for another time. She'll remain quiet throughout, watching the cutting into the human head with a mixture of fascination and near-fear. It's one thing to understand intellectually that surgery involves cutting a person open, but observing it is quite another.
"Don't mind at all, Major, don't mind at all…" Cameron replies cheerfully as the base of Andrea's skull is painted orange before Cameron steps up to do what he does best. A circular incision is made, the immediate request for 'suction' given as it begins to bleed profusely. The 'circular' saw is not the sort that one uses to cut planks of wood but rather looks like a small drill with a open cylinder at the end, about an inch or so in diameter. "Alright, performing supraorbital craniotomy now, extradural drilling at the anterior skull base," Cameron announces to no one in particular, save possibly Circe, for whom this is all likely new. The drill whizzes and whines as it begins to cut into bone. The cut is made carefully and then withdrawn, the bone then grasped and pulled upon, breaking free and pulling out like a loose cork from a bottle. Placing the bone plug aside, Cameron leans in and rumbles, "Little more light please. Gods, why did it have to be the hypothalamus…. so… difficult…. to reach…." he gripes softly as brain tissue is carefully pushed aside, a path found as he works his way toward the base of Andrea's spine where the problem lies. His eyes are focused more now on the scope of his tool, watching it's progress into Andrea's brain and comparing it to the map he laid out before as to the source of the aneurysm annnnnnnd there it is! A overly enlarged bubble in an ordinary blood vessel, pushing against the pilot's brain. "Gotcha, you little fraker," Cameron murmurs under his breath. "Clip," he orders next, searching for just the right spot to attach it and stop the blood flow.
Once positions are taken up for the surgery, Circe steps then as well, finding her own space and staying out of the way. She watches closely, listening to the instructions and watching the incisions with a narrowing of her eye. As the skull portion is removed ,she draws a long breath and closes her eyes a moment. Yeah this isn't something she saw everyday and no amount of EMT training would prepare her for that soft sound the skull made.
She clears her throat and falls back to stillness despite her twitching. She shifts then, tilting her head to look at the clamp and then attempt to see what he sees, no wishing to block the light.
A secondary probe is entered, following the path of the first as Cameron literally remote 'drives' his way into Andrea's skull, careful not to damage anything as he slips past brain tissue, reaching the base of the damaged blood vessel and oh so carefully applying the clip around it. He breathes out a breath, the cheerfulness of the music in contrast to the hint of tension touching the air as he works. The probe is pulled back slowly, all eyes now focused on the visual display which, to the untrained eye, looks more like a blurry mass of blood and tissue than anything recognizable. But there is a soft chuckle as Cameron reports, "It's good…. aneurysm reducing in size. I think we're good people. Let's back out slowly. Everyone remember where we parked?" The tool and probe are withdrawn in reverse, slowly and carefully as Cameron requests, "Okay, prepare the titanium plate and screws please…. she's a pilot so I'm not taking any chances here. Lets button this hole up nice and tight…"
As the camera is inserted, Circe watches the screen with a sort of committed interest. Her hands clasp at her back in default ease position and she gazes then to Cameron at his breath. Clamp in place, she takes note of its need and position. The mask moves as she wets her lips and the fact that the surgery was for something so minute and simple causes her to release even more tension.
Good, Hosedown, you will be fine. She thinks to herself as a faint smile reaches the edges of her eyes. Each movement by both crew and doctor is watched with care and consideration - the medic learning whatever she can in this procedure.
Glancing up at Circe, Cameron smiles again beneath his mask, the nurse at his side dabbing at his forehead slightly as he notes, "There…. not so bad then, huh?" Glancing at the clock, he's managed to get the job done in just a little under 30 minutes. A new record. Replacing the bone plug, Cameron secures it in place with some thin screws and then, to ensure it isn't going anywhere, places a small plate over it, screwing that in in turn. "Okay, folks, show's over," he reports as he carefully stitches Andrea's incision shut, cleaning it and dressing it himself before taking a step back. "Nice work everybody, my thanks for your quick turnaround on this." Nodding to the nurses, Cameron steps back and draws off his mask, turning to Cidra with a smile and noting, "If you want to accompany her to recovery and wait with her there, you're more than welcome to, Major." As the patient is wheeled out and the operating room reset, Cameron heads out and starts to remove his scrubs, glancing over at Circe to ask, "So? What did you think?"
She follows the staff out and ends up tugging off her mask and hair net with a toss to the receptacle. Circe looks up at him and parts her lips, "Well..where to start. That was far more involved than anything else I have seen." She expresses. "All the field dressings in the world do not prepare anyone for such precision." The medic waits for the sink, hauling the scrubs off and moving them to be cleaned. She steps out of the pants and coils the legs up. "It's definitely step up from field medicine." She finally intones.
The medic moves over to the sink and begins to clean up her arms and hands.
"It is that," Cameron chuckles softly as he cleans up and then runs his hands through his hair. "I enjoy having both skills," he confesses, "the practical medicine and field medicine that I learned from years with my parents, and the specialized medicine I learned from years in University and internships." Folding his arms over his chest, Cameron tilts his head back against the wall and closes his eyes, hmmming softly for a moment before he rumbles, "I would be hard pressed to choose just one now. I suppose trauma medicine is best for the majority of what we're going to be facing now, but I'm grateful that I can do more delicate work as well." Opening his eyes once more, he gives Circe a wry smile and notes, "Thanks for your assistance. I hope you found it both interesting and instructive…"
Continuing to lather her arms as he speaks, Circe casts a glance upward at him and lifts a wry brow - listening. She smirks a little and nods, grateful for the small insights he gives her to his background. The medic draws back, wicking the water off again as she steps back with a shake of her heads, "I found it both, Doctor. Thank you. I wasn't much assistance other than herding, but hopefully next time I can do more..granted I do hope there isn't a next time for obvious reasons." she says.
She rubs a hand up and along her neck before letting it fall to her side. "Thank you for allowing me to be here. I am glad Hosedown was in good hands." She smiles warmly and looks back towards the surgical room. "Perhaps one day..but that day is far off before I can invest in really lending a hand in there. Your texts, I couldn't find any of them on the alternative medicine."
"No?" replies Cameron, his expression becoming crestfallen at the very idea that no alternative medicine texts have survived Warday. Sighing deeply he tilts his head up again and groans softly. "Just what I need…. yet another task to accomplish during my 'copious' free time." Pushing off from the wall, his eyes open and after a second Cameron asks, "You don't happen to know of any artists on board, do you Circe?" He heads back out into the recovery room, heading toward the front for a much needed cup of coffee, waiting for a bit before putting on a new lab coat and returning to duty. "Perhaps we can kill two birds with one stone. I can teach you and you can record and collate the data…"
Artists? Circe tilts her head at this and the corpsman reaches for her top, pulling it on over the tank. "Not sure I know any artists…but I would be glad to take notes for you and get the data going." She says, letting her mind wander over whom she knows.
"I can see about finding you an artist though…but why?" She asks him, following after as she lifts her hands to smooth her hair back and retie it at the base of her neck.
"Mmmmmmmm," Cameron muses to himself thoughtfully, "I'll have to look around for some then…." stopping to pour himself some coffee, glancing over his shoulder before shrugging. "There's a lot of identification that happens. This isn't just medicine that you can pick up at the local, well, what used to be the local pharmacy. It needs to be a field guide as well. So drawings to accurately describe and illustrate what flowers, roots, and leaves of various plants look like in order to identify them and then use them. And there needs to be illustrations of the body, drawing out lines of chi and energy for acupuncture, so on and so forth. So yes, we'll need an artist too, if we're going to do this right." We, eh? Pouring a second cup of coffee, Cameron offers it to Circe with a quirked eyebrow of invitation.
A field guide has Circe's attention a little more and she is busy buttoning her top and smoothing it back into place with a hook of it into her belt and pants. She looks up to see the cup extended towards her and she smiles, taking a step forward to take it up. "Thanks." She intones. "Again. I may know someone, but I would have to talk to him." She says, musing over the thought.
She ships at the steaming liquid, letting it warm her face more than anything. The smell was enough to help ease the lasting tension from the surgery. "Not sure how you stay so steady in there…just watching you makes me tense." She blows over the steaming surface.
Blowing across the surface of his coffee, Cameron hmmmms and notes, "Sounds good. I'll ask around too." He waits for the surface to cool, taking a tentative sip and grimacing at the bitterness before taking another. "Years of practice," is his answer to her comment. "I think if I hadn't been working with brain tissue so intensely lately I might have felt more nervous about the matter. It has been over a year since I've done any intracranial surgery. But I guess it's like a bicycle. Once you learn, you never forget how to ride one…"
"I am not so sure that is the best way to say it." She smirks a little in thought and she finds a place to lean back against. The smell of the coffee draws a sigh from her and her eyes close. "What if I said the artist was none other than our trouble maker Mr. Duncan? I think he has some skill at it and this way he can practice with his hand and would have to stick around us." She smirks at this thought. It was a rather ingenious plot to get the stubborn pilot back into sickbay and under a watchful eye. "He wants to hit the sims already." She shakes her head and rolls a shoulder.
One brow arches as Cameron replies, "Really? Interesting. Yes, drawing could be good therapy for his hand, though it might also be extremely frustrating as well, since he's not going to have very good control or strength for a while. But it can't hurt to ask. Feel free. I leave that particular option in your hands for now. See if he's interested or not. Personally I'd rather find someone who wants to do the work rather than just someone who is willing. See which side of that fence he falls on. His lips draw into a thin line at the mention of sims, but shaking his head Cameron simply takes a sip of his coffee and notes, "I patch 'em up and that's all. If they want to be stubborn mules and put themselves back in here within days, that's their business, not mine…"
Letting out a long sigh, Circe nods, "I had a feeling you felt that way. I gave him an exercise to do, seems he was balling his fist. Gave him something to squeeze and work each finger over individually. Told him once the soreness his gone he MIGHT consider sims. But.." She shrugs and shakes her head, letting her gaze drift through the rising steam she keeps held closer to her face.
The medic then shifts, switching her feet. "I will check with him, if I can't find anyone else I will call it his pee -tee." She murmurs and sips at her drink. "I have never met a more stubborn patient in all my life. It almost seems like he thinks the fate of the Cerberus rests on his shoulders." She says in thought and then finally straightens up. "Cameron.." she starts, "Thanks again for taking the time to teach me. I don't think I express enough how much it means to me."
"Good. I'll give you a few other exercises for him, but a ball to squeeze is the best one for getting back both strength and flexibility. I'll show you some stretches that you can show him as well, so his hand doesn't tighten up. Taking another sip of his coffee, Cameron asks, "Is he an asshole? Or just impatient?" Blue eyes lift, slightly startled as Circe thanks him out of the blue, his gaze twinkling, a smile curling on his lips from behind the rim of his cup. "Yer welcome, Circe. It's nice to have someone who actually wants to listen to what I have to say…."
His comment of Wade causes Circe to laugh a little and she lowers the coffee finally. "Impatient I would like to think. Haven't gotten an inkling otherwise." The coffee makes a return, another breath of air from her lips to attempt to cool it a bit more. She sips at the drink and runs her hand over the heated side of the mug. "Glad I can be of service then." She muses over it and then nods her head, "You are knowledgeable, intelligent and actually give good company - anyone who doesn't want to hear what you have to say obviously is frakked over far worse than anyone can possibly be." She shifts, crossing her ankles as she keeps her weight against the small of her back.
"Why don't you show me those stretches, I don't have long before a turn over of duty and I would like to grab some food." she admits.
"Ohhhh, I'm used to the doctors and nurses and EMTs listening to me. And the staff and crew, when they need something from me will listen to my reports. And in most social situations I do well enough. It's the patients and the crazies that seem to think they have all the answers and know everything that are somewhat more of an problem," Cameron jokes as he takes another sip of coffee. Ahhhhh, sweet yet bitter elixir of life! "Mmmmm!" he concurs as she asks him to demonstrate, "sure…" Putting down his cup, Cameron notes, "Okay so with this one you curl your right hand around the back of the left, or vice versa, your thumb against the fingers, fingers curled around the thumb, and then press the hand toward the wrist." He demonstrates first on himself and then watches as Circe copies the gesture, correcting the positioning of her hands till she's got it right. "This is more for the wrist than the hand proper…."
Setting her own cup down, Circe begins to fold her hands over each other, practicing the movements he shows her. Her thumb hooks about and she shifts with his instructions, taking note of muscles being worked by the movement. "That is one thing he is missing in what he does now." She says thoughtfully. She memorizes it and then tries the other hand over the first, giving a nod. "Alright. That should be one he works on next. He seems to have an aversion to coming her for pee-tee so I may set up gym time for him." She says out loud, but mostly in thought to herself.
"Encourage him to swim," Cameron suggests after a moment. "It will be good exercise for both his arm and his hand without putting too much strain on either of them. Oh! And this would be good as well," Cameron points out, placing the fingertips of one hand against the palm of the other and then gently bringing the opposite hand forward, over the wrist, the 'stretched' hand upright and perpendicular to his arm. "Tell him not to push it too far though, or he'll damage the muscles. Just back enough to feel the stretch, hold it, and then gently release."
Swimming is something she can do and Circe smiles at the prospect. Best pee-tee every in the medic's mind. She watches the next instruction and mimics it rather well, pressing the fingers back and holding. Releasing, she smiles warmly and nods to him, "Thanks, Cameron. I will show him this tomorrow, I think he will be thrilled for something else to do than make fists." She muses and leaving her coffee she gives a look to her watch. "That being said, I have fifteen minutes to eat and get back here for rounds." She may look somewhat tired - but the coffee is helping and not to mention the surgery that just took place. "I will bring you back something." she says and lifts a hand in parting, turning and making a half jog for the hatchway out.
Smiling in turn, Cameron picks up his mug again and air-toasts Circe with it. "To your success then. May the patient be pliable to your will and obedient to your instructions…" Waving her off with one hand, the surgeon tuts, "Shoo, vamoose, scram, be off with you! I'll catch you later. Bring me back a danish. Something with fruit if you can snag one…" Unlikely, but a man can dream, can't he?