| Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep |
| Summary: | Cidra comes to Sickbay looking for something to help her sleep. Cameron sets her up with tea, medication, and some advice. |
| Date: | 29 Oct 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | Finally Found |
| Players: |
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| Sickbay - Deck 10 - Battlestar Cerberus |
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| 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: #245 |
Well, Cameron wanted to be busy. One really should be more careful about what one wishes for. Now that he's been approved for duty by the CMO, it seems there is no end to the work available as patients both military and civilian keep entering through the sickbay doors. Still, the doctor can't complain. He'd rather be busy than idle any day of the week. Keeping busy means keeping other less ideal thoughts at bay. He's always been better at seeing to the needs and worries of others than his own. After administering a shot of cortisone to his latest patient and sending her off with some cream and a recommendation to find a hobby to help relieve some of her stress, Cameron steps into the waiting room to pick up the next chart, scanning it over briefly before calling out, "Major Hahn?"
Cidra has been sitting in the waiting room, dressed in her off duties, so the only signs of rank about her are on the chart itself. She waits her turn patiently. Outwardly, at least. The woman's good at composure, and no less so today. Only outward sign of anything amiss with her is that she looks fairly tired, slight dark circles evident under her eyes. When her name is called she stands, striding over to meet Cameron. "Thank you, Doctor…" Takes her a moment to recognize the man, but it does dawn on her. "…Adair, yes?"
Blue-grey eyes lift, an automatic smile curling Cameron's lips before recognition dawns on his face. Blinking in surprise, the smile becomes even more genuine as he greets, "Major … nice to see you again. Please, this way?" He leads the way down a hall into an examination room, closing the door behind Cidra and noting, "I had hoped to see you again under less formal circumstances, to thank you for our rescue. I was not… entirely myself that night." No, indeed not. Tired, wounded, and in charge of keeping his small group of survivors calm and together, he did little more than take Elpis literally off of Cidra's hands and thank her wearily in the process of doing so. "Please, sit," he offers, gesturing to a seat before taking one himself and examining her chart again, pulling it up on the small computer at his disposal before asking, "What can I do for you, Major?"
"Quite understandable, of course," Cidra says. "And there is no need for thanks. It is my duty, and a happier one than many I am tasked with. You have been acclimating well to the ship, I do hope? I was told the condition and you and yours was generally fine when you were transferred to the Starboard Hangar. I…do not frequent the hangar." Tone rather flat when she mentions the place, but she leaves it at that. "This should not take long. I am merely here to obtain some pharmaceuticals."
"Every day gets a little easier," he confesses with a sense of relief. The first few days Cameron literally thought he was going to go crazy. "I can't blame you for avoiding the hangar. It is not my preferred location on board." But since she seems eager to get to business, Cameron leaves off with the pleasantries and asks, "Pharmaceuticals?" Flipping through the chart to see if there is any notation of previous medications, he asks, "For something you've been treated for before? Or is this something new?"
"Bad associations. I do hope conditions will improve soon," Cidra says. Though she moves gladly onto business. At his question, she shakes her head. Her chart doesn't show much in the way of recent activity, really, outside treatment for a dislocated shoulder and other serious but non-life-threatening injuries sustained about three months ago, and routine checks. "New, I suppose you could say. I have been having…difficulty sleeping. It is nothing serious, but obviously I do not want this to continue to a point where it affects my duties, so something to assist in that would be appreciated."
Glancing up, Cameron studies Cidra's features for a moment before typing something into her file as he asks, "Has this been a recent development or something that has been becoming problematic for some time now?" he asks mildly, studying the stores of what the sickbay has in stock as he ponders which sleep aide in particular he should offer. "How much sleep would you say you have been able to get, on average, each night?" He turns, laying her chart down on one thigh as he takes in her haggard appearance quietly.
"It is…off and on," Cidra says. "Some nights I can manage a full six hours just fine." And that is 'full' by her definition. "Others…three? Four, perhaps. It is not that I cannot *fall* sleep, precisely, but I tend to wake up during the night and have…difficulty relaxing again."
"Nightmares?" Cameron hazards a guess. It wouldn't be unlikely. Who doesn't suffer from them? "Major, I've been informed that you're rather fond of tea. Have you, by any chance, tried drinking either some chamomile or valerian tea? They're both mild, herbal alternatives to sleeping pills which, in all honesty, generally work for longer than just six hours and often have less that ideal side effects. A nice cup of tea before you hit the rack might just be the thing to help you sleep more restfully through the night." His head tilts for a moment before he adds, "And of course, if you're having trouble with nightmares, you could always make an appointment to come in and talk with one of our therapists. Completely confidentially, of course."
Cidra pauses. Like she's unsure how to answer that. "Yes," she finally says. "You could say that. Most vivid ones. I find smoking chamalla helpful…" She's delved a bit deeper than tea. "…but obviously that is not an option every night. I was hoping for a mild sedative. Nothing that will leave me too hazy. I can arrange my own patrol schedule to a point but I do need to fly some early shifts." His mention of therapy makes her eyes narrow. "I think not."
His hand lifts as he notes, "Merely an option for your consideration." Taking a notepad, Cameron begins to write noting, "Tell you what. I'd like to you start off by trying a cup of valerian tea each night before you go to bed and another one should you wake in the middle of the night. I'm writing you instructions on how to prepare it and I'll give you a note for the hydroponics lab. They'll be able to set you up with some valerian to start. That is a mild sedative, trust me, and it will not leave you hazy. It will just make you feel more at peace with your situation. It's the root source, quite literally, of valium." He hands her the two pieces of paper before picking up a prescription notice. "I would like you to try that first. However, if you find after a week that a spot of tea is not enough, you can fill this prescription. It's a mild sedative that should help you to sleep. Try half a dose for the first week and increase to a full dose if half a dose is insufficient." He tears off the prescription sheet and hands that over to Cidra as well. "Normally I would have you come back in a week's time for the prescription, but I realize that your time is valuable and the waiting time here can often be long." He studies Cidra's face, trying to weigh her reaction before asking, "Is there anything else I can help you with?" With some doctors the words would be perfunctory. With Cameron, the interest and concern is earnest.
Cidra looks dubious about the tea until he points out its relationship to valium. Then she's more enthusiastic. She nods shortly, taking the prescription. "I shall give it a try. I would simply continue smoking but my personal supply is not inexhaustible and I am…at times uncomfortable doing such in the pilot berths. This does sound somewhat more…subtle. I thank you, Doctor. Does it…stop dreaming? This tea, typically?"
Shaking his head, regretfully, Cameron replies, "It probably will not stop the dreaming. But it may dull them to the point where they don't wake you up and you don't remember them. It tends to make things less… intense and upsetting. But you may want to find a confidant, or hell, even a chair will do, to talk to about your dreams. When you dream about something upsetting, I find, it's usually your mind trying to make you face something you don't want to face. Get it off your chest, get it out in the open, even if it's just between you and an inanimate object, and your subconscious just might back off a little and cut you some slack."
"I do not want to face whatever it is my mind means by this…" Cidra mutters. Under her breath, more to herself than Cameron. She pauses, lingering despite her business actually being concluded. "I should talk with the chaplain, perhaps. She is a learned woman in such things." Though she does not seem enthusiastic about the idea. "For now, I do think I can settle for not recalling them."
"I'm neither a chaplain nor a therapist, but if you ever have the need to talk to someone and can't think of anyone you can trust, you can talk to me. I may not have any good advice, but I'm a good listener and bound by my oath to keep anything you tell me confidential." Cameron offers Cidra a crooked smile, quite certain that she will never take him up on his offer, but fully meaning it anyways. "Tell your subconscious to chill out, drink some tea, maybe find yourself a pleasant hobby or something to help you take off the edge a bit. Kickboxing, perhaps?" he teases lightly. "In the meanwhile, you have tea and, should you need it, a prescription. That way if your subconscious won't play nice, you can tell it to shut the frak up."
Cidra inclines her head to Cameron though she does, indeed, not take him up on the offer. "I thank you, Doctor." She stands. "I am not much on pugilism. My PT consists of weights, mainly, and swimming, as it is good for overall musculature. I certain amount of that is prudent if one does wish to stay in flying shape, but I have never been one who enjoys the gym. I will try the tea, and telling my subconscious to let me alone." The barest hint of a smile. "Oh. I was to ask. How is your girl? The small one?"
"Well then, perhaps something else? Knitting? Painting? It might seem frivolous, but having some sort of recreational hobby is surprisingly helpful when it comes to relaxing and letting off pressure." His smile is easy and he notes, "I like swimming as well. And running, though inside an enclosed structure is not the most ideal of environments for the latter. I prefer to run outside when possible but… well, those days are over for now at least." He smile more broadly at her question, replying, "Elpis. She's doing well. She misses you, actually. She does this," and with his hands, makes like a flying device that looks something like a Raptor, "and then pats me where your insignia on your uniform is. I think you made quite the impression on her. No doubt she wants to be a pilot now."
"I have never had much luck with the arts. I used to try to write poetry in college but I was…poor at it," Cidra says. It sounds like a vast understatement. "I shall think on it. Something to…occupy my excess energies would be helpful, I suspect." She can't help but smile as he speaks of Elpis. It even touches her cloudy blue eyes. "I am not used to dealing with children." Probably a vast understatement. "But she was generally well-behaved." The highest compliment she can pay a young-thing. "And she did seem most interested in the aerial controls." A point in the girl's favor.
"Well, I'm sure there's something you can be good at… or not! Being good isn't really the point of a hobby after all. Enjoying it. Enjoying it is the point," Cameron chuckles as Cidra lays bare her talents, or lack thereof. He would suggest that perhaps she find someone she considers worthy of schtupping, one of the greatest stress relievers of all time, but he doesn't know her quite that well yet, and it isn't generally considered medically appropriate advice, even if his mother did swear by the practice with many of her patients. "Well, good with children or not, you made an impression," Cameron notes wryly. "She is generally pretty well behaved, thank the Gods. I don't know what I would do if she wasn't."
"Raiders I can manage. Children, I do admit, rather frighten me," Cidra says. Absolute deadpan. It's a sort-of joke. "Well, I am glad you were both found and are faring well. Clear eyes and steady hands, Doctor." The farewell as a pleasant sort of formality to it. An inclination of her head, and she leaves him to his other patients. Perhaps to go in search of a hobby. Or someone to schtup. It's anyone's guess, really.