ways_infirmary | (no subject)

(no subject)

[millitimed to approx 'the evening after the surgery', last post]

She woke up, a little at a time. The anaesthetic had mostly worked its way out of her system.
Sooraya didn't try to move immediately, just took a second to be grateful, and to do a sort of
inventory of herself. A light touch to the side of her head found bandages, and, she expected, sutures beneath that. The pain that had been chewing at her yesterday was gone,
though... definite improvement.
She turned her head to the left, trying to see if anyone was here.

(post for anyone who wants to visit or thread, open)

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She's his patient, so Kevin's keeping an eye on her. At the first sign of movement, he gets up and hurries over.

"Sooraya?"

"Dr. Fawkes," her voice is a little hoarse, but clear. "How...did it work?"

"It went fine", he assures her. "How are you feeling?"

"Numb, here," touching her temple, "but a lot better otherwise." She looks past him, then back to his face. No double vision, but things are still a bit out of focus.

"I wouldn't expect to be instantly back to usual", he advises her. "You'll get there, though."

"I'm glad to be here at all," she answers. "And yes. I've been in casualty a few times so I know some things can't be rushed."

"Haven't done this before, though. So I'm not sure what to ask...How long was I out?" hesitantly.

Kevin names a time that's a couple of hours longer than the operation took.

"Not too bad..." she's relieved. "Sleeping Beauty really isn't my style." She thinks back. "I remember seeing Dr. Sandhu, but if anyone told me the other man's name--not Muldoon," she adds quickly. " Was that Dr. Tam?"

"Yes, that was Dr. Tam", he says with a smile. "He's a trauma surgeon by specialty, but a very good general doctor."

She stifles a yawn, still trying to wake up, fully, and looks embarrassed. "Sorry! Tell them thanks for me, or I will later?"

She pinches herself with her free hand. One's still got an IV attached to it, which she eyes curiously. Hydration or meds, probably both, she figures.

"And you, too. Not sure I want to know what would've happened if you weren't in, this morning."

"I will. Don't try to move too much yet, or worry about waking up any faster than you are." He offers another smile. "One of the other doctors or healers would have been, I'm sure."

Sooraya smiles back. "Understood, sir." She then frowns thoughtfully. It's not pain, but trying to check how well she's remembering things. "Today is the 29th?-- I had it memorized because of Muldoon and the others."

Kevin nods. "The 29th, yes."

Given a choice, she'd take vision problems over not thinking clearly. Of course, it wasn't a choice, but she wasn't going to let herself be pessimistic. Recovery took time.

"I know what to watch out for when it comes to wounds--signs of infection, that sort of thing. Are there other complications that might come up?"

"From this? In a patient of your age, none that are very likely. But I'd like to keep an eye on you for at least a few days, just to make sure."

"Age matters that much?" she isn't doubting him, just puzzled. "He wasn't old..." thinking out loud.

"I had long since learned not to argue with doctors." She laughed softly. "Smart and sometimes sneaky--not a combination you want to deal with."

"It matters in terms of the surgery", he tells her. "There are more risks to the operation in older patients. Was your... relative... treated quickly?"

Sooraya swallowed hard, looking away. "No. The clinic nearest our home was closed, and long drives in that part of Afghanistan were like crossing a minefield.
He said--He felt ill, but he didn't want to frighten people, I think. He said he could wait til morning, at least, and if not better he'd go to a hospital.*" She shook her head. "That...was too long."

"Ah." He looks down. "Yes, things like this can... I'm sorry."

There is an anxious sort of werewolf who, upon recieving the note, asked the bar for something appropriate and traditional.

It is in fact his family's tradition to bring some sort of gift to family and friends in the hospital.

Which is why there are chincy balloons that say "Get well soon" and a tasteful flower arrangement. It is really hard to be indoors right now y'know.

"...Hey there kiddo."

She looks up and grins. "Heya, you." She holds out a hand. "Thank you..." surprised, and pleased. "How're you doing?"

".....Good."

He's pale and twitchy, but he's got a big smile. No teeth. No teeth is key. Setting the flowers down beside her, he puts down the balloons and makes a grab for a chair. He's moving too fast.

"...Doin' all right. How're you doin?"

"Better. NOT feeling like my head has been stuffed with sharp objects. Dr. Fawkes says the operation went well." She takes the flowers, brings them up to her face to smell them.
The twitchiness does not go unnoticed. She puts them down, quietly, "Are you?" concerned.

"...It's close-to-the moon anxiety." He smiles, careful not to show any teeth, "Pre-Moon Syndrome. I'll be fine."

He smiles kindly, "....That's great. I owe Fawkes a word of thanks."

"They're good here," meaning, good in both professional skill and their attitude towards people. "Not something I'm as used to."

She nods, thinking. "Gets worse as the time gets closer?"

((sorry, have to go. be back later.))

"What kind of doctors are you used to?" That? more concerned. Shaking his head, he nearly ignores her last question.

"...Little bit. S'only my second fucking time doing this."

"Experience does help. I mean, I do realize I don't know how it feels, but I do have some idea what it's like suddenly acquiring a new set of reactions and senses. Pity Rahne isn't here...She's one of the Institute's instructors, or was. A shapeshifter, though not lycanthropic."

"Mostly?" answering his earlier question. "Well, before I relocated, absent or half-trained. The ones after that were good, it's just that
very few of us wanted to be poked and prodded unless it was absolutely necessary. We'd be more likely to ask for a healer instead of MD, if something was wrong."

Muldoon isn't willing to speculate on the differences between the Afghanistan in his world and the Afghanistan in hers. All the same however, the fact remained that There upon occasion weren't enough doctors or people to help people.

Swallowing, he grinds his back teeth before staring down at his knees, "....This? Might seem kind of forward of me. God knows my world's not fucking copasetic but you ever need anything like this again? You come find me you hear?"

"[I will,]" she answers, then switches back to English. "If you'll promise to do the same, if you need something or are in trouble. That's what friends do."

She considers. "If I can ask, is that part of what's bothering you? Not being able to head back to your own world yet?"

"....Sooraya." Muldoon's studying his knees again, "...I've got kids see. They're-" he hesitates, "Well, here."

Pulling a photo out of his pocket, he hands it to her, "Guess it's taking longer then I thought to adapt to this. I...I miss um."

She leans over to reach for his hand with her free one, and takes the photo with the other.
Softly, "I'm sorry." She'd hug him, if he'd let her, but she isn't sure whether or not that'd make him feel better or worse.

"Sooraya?" Cait approaches, asking softly for her friend. "Hon, what happened?"

Sooraya smiles, tired but happy to see Cait. She's still in her hospital bed, and not wearing her veil just now. To her mind, this isn't a public area, and she has bandages on the side of her head that aren't too comfortable.

"I felt ill yesterday. Headache, and I couldn't see straight. It just kept getting worse, so Muldoon went to find one of the Infirmary doctors. Turns out I needed an operation, one that couldn't really wait."

There's an empty chair by her bed, if Cait wants to sit.

She does, and holds her friend's hand. "Which kind of operation?" All worry and concern, Cait does not want any harm coming to her new friends here. "You are okay now? Everything okay?"

"What I had, the illness, is called an aneurysm." Sooraya squeezes Cait's hand gently. "I'll be okay. They want me to stay put for a few days, just to be on the safe side.
It doesn't hurt anymore...That was bad. But Dr. Fawkes says the surgery went off without any problems."

"That is very serious..." The redhead frowns but nods. "I am glad you are fine now." Cait relaxes a bit, but does not let go, looking over her friend. "Sooraya? Hm, it is some religious thing, you wearing the veils?"

"It's part of Islam. An adult woman is supposed to keep her face and lower body covered, unless health problems prevent her from doing it.
Men are not supposed to see anything but my eyes and hands. But even
the laws say, if someone's ill or unable, that's not an unforgiveable
sin."

"I see. I just find it... weird. You are beautiful, I don't see why you should cover up." A nod, an small smile. "I am glad you are better. Very much."

Sooraya's turn to blush!

"It's...a matter of how we see things, or how we want to be seen. A Muslim woman may marry or not, but if she does, she's meant to let only one person
know her that closely.

You're being tactful. An American friend of mine at home told me she thought I was contributing to a state where human rights or women's rights
are irrelevant. That I should 'know better.'

Oh, I'm glad too, believe me. That...at least in a fight, there'd be something I could do."

Cait grins. "You are, beautiful. I love your hair. And you can tan!" She smirks a bit, shaking head. "Redheads just burn." Or she used to, before becoming super.

"Well, I understand it as a way of showing modesty. Some of the girls at school liked to parade around almost naked."

"I don't understand that either," Sooraya says, not arguing but puzzled. "Don't they find it like...I don't know, cheapening themselves? Though I know not everyone sees it that way. Either extreme can be bad."

"It's some kind of popularity contest for them. They want attention, to feel superior, and special." Cait shrugs. "So they show off." A small nigh, nodding to her friend.

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