|
|
Post by Ensign Rousseau on May 20, 2009 21:08:48 GMT -5
She told herself it wouldn't come to this. She told herself she would start taking better care of herself. She told herself that she was a smart girl and this was NOT going to happen.
She lied.
Her stomach heaved and she could almost feel her pale freckled skin turn a sickly green color. Sweat beaded across her brow and while her skin was aflame she felt absolutely frozen to her bones. Charlie's lunch had already come up once in her quarters and once more in the elevator. Evidently motion was not good for the whole sick thing. She had barely been able to stand long enough to heave herself into the corridors.
She hadn't bothered to ask anyone for help getting her down here. She did basically everything on her own. To be honest, she was too independent for her own good. And stubborn. She didn't like asking for help. She was the girl who was adamant on believing that asking for help meant showing weakness. Well crap. Now because she didn't ask for help she was showing some serious weakness. She'd worked herself sick. Or it could have been the mess hall food, but she doubted that was so considering no one else was puking their guts out over the pristine floors.
She stumbled into the sick bay. It was late and she betted that most of the medical officers were probably asleep. She suspected, however, that someone was probably lurking around on the graveyard shift. "Hey! Anybody here?" She called, gazing bleary eyed around the empty sick bay. She stepped forward to grip the edge of one of the cots for support.
"Crap." She mumbled irritably, pinching the bridge of her nose. She wore nothing more than a white tank top and pair of sweat pants: otherwise known as her sleepwear. Her blonde hair was plastered to her neck with sweat. The room was spinning just a little bit and it was even colder in here. She realized it was too sterile for her liking. Her own quarters were chaotic and disorganized and just plain home. This was not home. It was alien and uncomfortable. Why did she come here again?
Grumbling as her stomach gave another painful heave, she collapsed on the cot closest to her, groaning loudly. She didn't think she had the energy to get back up to her room, even though she was sure she'd have been far more comfortable. Briefly she wished to be back home with her mother. She'd make her soup and they'd watch old movies. She wanted desperately that old comfort. Apparently a cold and empty sick bay would have to do on the Enterprise.
So yeah, sickness, not so good.
|
|
|
|
Post by Dr. McCoy on May 21, 2009 16:04:59 GMT -5
McCoy had been in his office going over preparations for the upcoming mission. Old ghosts and little sleep were a bad combination. The best antidote he had on him for this was the snifter in his desk drawer he was taking small drinks from. He was just about finished going over the Carter’s medical history when he heard the door open in sickbay. He didn’t hear a whole lot of screaming or alerts so it must not have been too serious.
"Hey! Anybody here?"
The doctor heard the voice call out from the other room. Surely one of the other doctors or nurses on staff could take care of whoever was out there. Then he noticed the time. It was still the scarcely staffed nightshift out there, and the few that were on duty had other patients and medical projects preoccupying them.
"Crap."
He heard come from the other room followed by the distinct sound of a body flopping down on what he hoped was a medical bed. “Crap indeed.” McCoy said to himself grabbing his tricorder and heading out of the room to see what was going on.
McCoy entered the sickbay and quickly spotted the young woman lying out on the medical bed. He made his way over to her bedside not wasting any time opening up his tricorder and pulling out the medical scanner to test her out. “All right what seems to be the problem here?”
|
|
|
|
Post by Ensign Rousseau on May 21, 2009 19:00:14 GMT -5
Her eyes rolled in her head. Finally! She thought irritably. She was in one of those moods that she usually was in, the one where everyone's actions other than her own were seen as ridiculously stupid. It was times like these when Charlie was not a kind woman. She had her moments, but she was incredibly judgmental when she was cranky. She'd never met Dr. McCoy (more out of distaste for the sick bay than anything else) but she'd perceived him as someone she would probably like. But right now, she had no strength for affection.
"I'm sick. Obviously." She snapped, closing her eyes to shut out the light of the room. Even the smallest pin prick of a star could set her head to throbbing right now. The movement of McCoy was no exception. She bit down on her bottom lip to keep her stomach from heaving again. A bubble of blood leaked into her mouth and she let out a low curse at herself.
One might suspect Charlotte was a bit of a masochist. She was beginning to suspect so herself.
She sighed, resolving that sarcasm was probably not the best thing for her health at that moment. "I haven't exactly been taking good care of myself. Working out too much, not eating enough, not sleeping enough. Usual bad habits." She grumbled under her breath, angry to admit to McCoy and herself that she'd screwed up. Her mother had told her time and time again she needed to take better care of herself. And lo and behold here was fate to bite her in the butt.
|
|
|
|
Post by Dr. McCoy on May 22, 2009 18:47:28 GMT -5
"I'm sick. Obviously."
“Obviously” McCoy repeated sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. Just what he needed a late night patient with an attitude. It’s not like he was just waiting on pins and needles for the chance to treat her. She was lucky he hadn’t had a few more drinks from the snifter of his then he’d have a good excuse to pass her off on someone else.
"I haven't exactly been taking good care of myself. Working out too much, not eating enough, not sleeping enough. Usual bad habits."
“Usual bad habits that will get you killed. If you didn’t know there are rules about suicidal behavior in star fleet.” If there was one thing that got on McCoy’s nerves it was people who did not treat their health and their body with respect. It was one thing to treat patients who caught a foreign aliment or were injured through no fault of their own. But for a person to allow themselves to become ill because of purposeful neglect was just insulting to him and everything he did. The girl was lucky he thought her young and naive enough to let her off with a warning this time. Heaven help her is she darkened his sickbay for a reason like this again.
The doctor finished his tricorder scans. Looking at the read out screen he checked his readings against her previous medical records in order to get his full diagnosis.
“Well since you seem to know the cause of your sickness I won’t bore you with the details of what’s ailing you. Suffice it to say your body is objecting to your treatment of it.” McCoy moved over to the medical table next to the bed. He picked up the hypo spray injector and filled it with the proper remedy solution.
“This should settle your stomach.” He said pressing the injector to her neck. Pushing the bottom of the hypo spray he injected the chemical into her body within seconds. Once the cartridge was empty and injected into her blood stream he set the hypo spray down on the med table. Reaching behind the table the doctor used his access to open the medical cabinet on the wall. He opened up one of the bottle containers and grabbed three tablets. Closing and re-securing the cabinet he moved over and placed the tablets in her hand.
“Swallow these they’ll help replenish your body’s nutritional needs.”
McCoy reached over to the medical table once more. This time he picked up a small disposable hypo spray injector. “This contains a small sedative, go to your quarters, get in bed, take this and get a good night’s sleep.” The doctor ordered handing her the injector.
“I want you to cut back on whatever exercise routine you have by half, and then use that extra time to sleep. Make sure you start getting three square meals a day, I’m not going to set you a diet you’re a grown up you know when you have really had enough to eat. If I catch you in this sickbay for something like this again don’t think I won’t feed you and tuck you into bed myself.”
|
|
|
|
Post by Ensign Rousseau on May 22, 2009 20:11:15 GMT -5
"OW! Jesus, couldn't you give a little warning?" Charlie cried out, hissing under her breath. Her hand snapped up to the tiny puncture on her neck, eyes wide and shocked. She bit down on her lip again, licking the blood from her teeth. She didn't like shots or needles or doctors for that matter. Not that she had anything against Dr. McCoy personally, she was just naturally resistant to putting her life in other people's hands. She liked being in control, even if that meant harming her body in the process. At least she was the one piloting what happened...to a certain degree anyway. There was only so much of the human body you can control. She was beginning to realize that.
She sat up slowly, taking the little pills from the doctor and studying them with distaste. She'd never handled taking pills well. She wasn't sure why, but they always got a little caught in her throat, something that she dearly avoided, you know the whole choking thing. Nevertheless, she would be a dutiful girl and take the stupid tablets, even if she started choking. She was in the sick bay after all. She doubted she'd die from choking here.
Her eyes grew wide at the next object, her brows going up in skepticism. Her eyes moved from the injector to the doctor's face, an expression of complete incredulity on her features. "You've got to be kidding me right?" She stated blankly, a sliver of fear passing over her eyes. She had to inject it herself? Oh this ought to be fun. She hated the idea of waking someone to inject her with a sleeping drug (she didn't miss the irony), though she supposed Pavel would be up to it if she asked him. Even so, the idea of ANOTHER needle tonight was not welcome.
"BY HALF?" Her voice was wounded and almost panicked at the idea of cutting back so much. She opened her mouth to protest more, but she supposed antagonizing him anymore would get her injected with some sort of virus to leave her incapacitated for a year or two. She didn't feel like tempting fate.
|
|
|
|
Post by Dr. McCoy on May 25, 2009 17:52:02 GMT -5
"You've got to be kidding me right?"
“No I’m not.” He told her flatly at the crewman’s surprised reaction to having to inject herself. It was a simple painless injection that would take her a second to perform. The hypo spray was so easy to handle any idiot could use it. There was no real reason she could not follow the simple instruction. Of course it would not do her any harm if she refused; the sedative was just the doctor’s way of enforcing a solid night sleep on the patient.
“I want you to cut back on whatever exercise routine you have by half, and then use that extra time to sleep. Make sure you start getting three square meals a day, I’m not going to set you a diet you’re a grown up you know when you have really had enough to eat. If I catch you in this sickbay for something like this again don’t think I won’t feed you and tuck you into bed myself.”
"BY HALF?"
McCoy was surprised by the slightly panicked sound in the girl’s voice. It looked like she wanted to say more, most likely voice a protest but she held her tongue. Bones sighed lightly to himself. He backed off on his barking at the patient in favor of trying to reason with her. Despite his course tone he was only telling her things he thought were in her best interest.
“Look kid, you come in here having worked yourself to the point of being physically ill. There’s a fine line between pushing yourself and killing yourself and you’re teetering over the edge. You don’t seem to care for my medicine and I don’t really wish to treat you on a regular basis for this. So do us both a favor and just slow it down. Get some rest, relaxation and some good meals in you and you’ll be able to hit the gym plenty. You’re young, healthy and got your whole life ahead of you, so keep it that way will ya.”
|
|
