ways_infirmary | (no subject)

Two men enter from the bar proper (http://community.livejournal.com/milliways_bar/17355981.html?view=727043021#t727043021) with one helping the other walk as best he can. Both men could be considered as different like night and day, but it's quite evident that the one scrawnier man is doing his best to help the other. "..nurses and get yous t' your room after. I promise it.."

Glancing up Eugene lets his dark eyes glance over the room before spotting a familiar face. He all but breaths her name out in a sigh of relief at finding someone in at this time of day/night. "Zhaan.."

Zhaan started feeling a twinge in her knee a few moments ago, but only realizes that she's picking it up from someone else when she turns around and sees Eugene Roe and Le Chiffre - she's acquainted with both of them - entering the infirmary, the latter leaning on the former for support.

"Goddess," she mutters to herself at the sight of Le Chiffre's wound. For bipedal life-forms with a skeleton, knee injuries are very bad things. She moves quickly to Le Chiffre's free side. "Let's get you on one of the beds," she advises. He shouldn't be putting weight on that knee any longer than he has to. "How did this happen?"

Gene grunts a little as he shifts some of the other man's weight against himself. "He came in like it. I gots th' bullet out and he requested morphine. Got some sulfa on it t' help with infection as best I could not knowin if someone was here."

As carefully as he can the medic tries to help guide Le Chiffre towards a bed of Zhaan's choice while trying to keep him from using his hurt leg to much. " 's not good bu' I've seen worse."

Gene does well in distracting Le Chiffre at the mention of pretty Nurses, for he hardly notices they've reached the Infirmary until they actually do so. He'd rather not be here, and while the morphine tells him he's perfectly happy, part of him at least understands he should really be getting seen to.

Shifting awkwardly as Zhaan approaches, he tilts his head to look to her, smiling far too much for man who's just had such an injury, but never the less he at least looks happy to spot the blue, "I know you." Don't expect him to actually answer any questions.

Zhaan notes Le Chiffre's glassy eyes and dazedly cheerful demeanor. She supposes these things to be effects of the morphine Gene dosed him with. Perhaps it's something to be grateful for - Le Chiffre would be feeling a lot worse, and so would she, were he not drugged. "Yes," she says, "we've met before. Just stay still and relax." Of course, it's hard not to relax when you are doped up on morphine.

Fetching a pair of shears from a drawer, Zhaan quickly and efficiently cuts off Le Chiffre's trouser leg above the knee, then carefully removes it, making sure not to cut the dressing Gene has put on the wound. Some blood is already soaking through: she will need to close that wound soon, but not before fixing whatever's been torn or broken in the knee. "Was the bone damaged?" she asks Gene.

"Possible. I couldn't tell though I think it may've grazed it." He was a little more concerend getting the bullet out at the current time to check on that. Watching Zhaan work, Gene moves to the other side assisting where he can and when told too. That's how the medics worked in the field when the real field doctors were about.

For once Le Chiffre's doing as he's told, and while relaxing isn't all that hard for him to do right now, he's also taken a curiosity at trying to watch what's going on, which is quite hard when attempting to remain still.

"Don't tell Santi, kay?" He states towards Zhaan, looking more concerned at the mention of the kid than his actual wound. He's not feeling much more than a dull ache right now, so he's allowed to let his worry drift elsewhere.

"I won't," Zhaan assures him, smiling softly. "I do not want to worry him." She gets one of the hand scanners, turns it on and uses it to examine Le Chiffre's knee. The scan confirms her worst fears: the bullet has shattered the kneecap and ripped a tendon. If the injury can be fixed, it will take a while to heal completely.

She turns to Gene. "His patella is shattered. I'll need help from another doctor to repair the damage." To that end, she goes to the call button on the wall and presses it.

Watching for a moment longer gives the medic time to nod his head, keeping that sullen expression of a man working out in the field. No smiles. No nothing. "I needs t' be gettin back to Holland anyway. Movin out soon an' expectin things to be worse."

Gene then looks back to Le Chiffre mustering up a small lopsided smile. "You keep off tha' knee and do as Zhaan tells ya. I hear she can be pretty touch on those tha' don't wanna do as their told."

Then to the blue-skinned woman, he says a little softer not wanting to disturb her. "Let me know how he's doin. Good luck.." and then he's sliping out the door.

As the other man slips out, Simon Tam steps in past him.

"Pa'u Zhaan," he says, his eyes flickering over the patient. "Do you need assistance?"

Zhaan nods. "Le Chiffre was shot in the knee. I do not know precisely what happened, and he is...not in a fit state to tell us, at the moment," she explains. "Eugene Roe removed the bullet, cleaned and dressed the wound as best he could, and administered morphine." Which is why Le Chiffre isn't exactly up to telling the doctors how he came by his injury. "I scanned him. His patella has been shattered and one of the tendons severed. I only just took the scan, and I do not know if there's enough bone left for the fuser to repair it, or if a prosthetic will be required."

As she gives Dr. Tam the details of the situation, she directs him to the bed where she's placed Le Chiffre, still happily zonked out on morphine. "Le Chiffre?" Zhaan tries to get his attention. "This is Dr. Tam. He's a trauma surgeon, and he will help me fix your knee."

There was a distant wave to Gene as the medic took his eventual leave, a slight pout added because such a supply of morphine shall be dearly missed. He'll probably miss the medic too. If he remembers him. Thankfully he has a pretty good memory, even under the influence of drugs.

No sooner had Le Chiffre got done with waving one away, someone else was appearing, and he did briefly consider who, but was easily distracted by something.. very distracting. His attention's only drawn back to the new comer when Zhaan introduces them, and Simon gets a small smile and an eyebrow raise. "Y'know, I'm pretty sure I just need another bandage, then I'll be outta your way. I'm fine. Oh, hi by the way."

Simon's return smile is calm and professional. "We won't keep you long, sir. Try to relax."

He studies the scan briefly while scrubbing up and putting on gloves. There don't seem to be a lot of tiny splinters of bone, but whether that's because the bone didn't splinter or because the tinier fragments have already been picked out, it's impossible to say.

Meanwhile, Zhaan gets a small tube from her collection of medicines. "I will have to put you under general anesthesia for this," she tells Le Chiffre. "But I do not want to sedate you until the morphine wears off."

Simon is getting watched curiously until Zhaan speaks once more, drawing Le Chiffre's gaze as he casts a weary stare towards the tube. "I'd rather it didn't wear off.. I'm fine, honestly. Maybe just give me some more morphine and send me home."

"If we do that, we will eventually be forced to amputate your leg," Zhaan says matter-of-factly, although she doesn't know if Le Chiffre will get the picture.

She looks over her shoulder at Simon. "Do you know of any counteragent for morphine, or a way to flush it out of his system?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing that wouldn't stress the patient unacceptably. I'd recommend either operating while he's still under its effects, with a nerve block to keep him immobilized, or waiting for it to wear off and then operating under general anaesthetic."

Zhaan nods. "If it starts to wear off, I will know." She turns back to Le Chiffre. "Are you ready?" she asks. Although she's not sure Le Chiffre's in any condition to give informed consent, she feels it best to ask.

He looks between the two as they speak. "Uh.. Yes. No, wait, what? Nerve block? I don't--" But, giving a heavy sigh that seems to interrupt whatever he was going to protest to, he slumps back on the bed and waves a hand dismissively, "Just don't cut my leg off without letting me know first. I like it where it is."

"It's a temporary measure that'll keep you from moving while we're repairing your leg," Simon tells him, calm and calming. "It stops motor impulses on their way from your brain to your body. When we take it off, you'll feel a little stiff for a few minutes, and then back to normal."

He's taking out the necessary equipment as he speaks.

Zhaan scrubs up and puts on her own pair of gloves. She says a quick, silent prayer before commencing surgery.

Even though Le Chiffre's kneecap isn't completely shattered, it still takes time to get it back in place and fused. The tissue around it also needs to be repaired. Zhaan mostly assists on this surgery, occasionally applying temporary coagulant and later putting Le Chiffre under full anesthesia when the morphine starts to wear off.

After they've closed up and dressed the wound, she puts a special splint around Le Chiffre's leg. He won't be able to bend his knee at all for a while, but after the splint is adjusted, he'll have a limited range of motion.

When the surgery is over and everything has been cleaned up, Zhaan gives Le Chiffre a whiff of the counteragent vapor to wake him.

Le Chiffre's glad for the eventual anesthesia, because the morphine really isn't any fun as it begins to wear off and he starts to remember why he's on morphine in the first place.

Unfortunately, the waking up part's not all that welcome, and he gives an irritable sounding grunt as he squints heavily against the sudden light, trying to peer over at the two. It takes a moment before he's ready to be speaking, and even then it's a low mumble, but he really does have to ask, "Can I go yet?"

Zhaan actually does want to get him out the door, because now that he is conscious and sans morphine there is nothing between his perceptions and the pain in his knee - which means there's nothing to dull it for her, either. She has to put a great deal of effort into not limping.

Of course, they are not quite finished yet. "I can give you something for the pain," she says, getting a small bottle of capsules from the cupboard where she keeps her medicines. "Take one of these every twelve hours. No more than that. Also, you will need this." Zhaan got a cane from the Bar while Le Chiffre was out: she passes it to him. "Keep your weight off your bad leg. Come back tomorrow so that I can change the dressing." He may not like it, but she'll have to check on him periodically.

With a slow movement, Le Chiffre pushes himself onto his elbows, flinching slightly at the pure stiffness he's feeling in every part of his body and the dull pain he's getting from the injured knee. It's better than it was, but that doesn't make him feel the need not to complain about it.

A snatch is made for the bottle he's given, eyeing it up with a vague consideration. Those pills probably won't last too long in his hands. But it's the cane that draws an unimpressed glance, followed by the mention of having to come back which just makes his situation worse and worse.

"So.. this'll heal up eventually, right?"

"Yes, but not for a while. Longer if you put any stress on it."

He's busying himself with putting away the equipment they've used, but takes the opportunity to add his support to Zhaan's instructions.

"A while? That's not hugely specific." Le Chiffre is a man who likes exact calculations, it's what comes from being a mathematician and an awkward bastard.

He could keep up the complaining all night, but does pause for a moment to frown down at his knee and mutter almost reluctantly, "I do appreciate what you've done." That's as close to a thank you as the two will get.

Zhaan nods. "If all goes well, we will be able to adjust the splint within a week to allow you some range of motion."

"Better than nothing," he responds, shifting gradually to sit at the edge of the bed, followed by an attempt at getting to his feet, which was more difficult that one would assume. The cane would definitely be of use, even if he was loathe to admit it.

"Well then, let us just hope I shall make a miraculous recovery that involves coming back to this place as little as possible."

After Le Chiffre leaves, Zhaan sighs and remarks to no one in particular, "I fear I will have to go out and search for him when it comes time for his appointment tomorrow."

"Sometimes I think it would be easier if we had the authority to pull medical rank in cases like that," says Simon ruefully.

Zhaan chuckles. "I spent most of the three cycles before I came here thinking much the same thing. My crewmates, when they were patients, tended to be very uncooperative." Rygel was always sour and cursed a great deal, Aeryn and D'Argo were too proud to admit it when they were hurt or take rest when they needed it, and Zhaan's medicine was so foreign to Crichton that he was frightened of it.

His glance at her is one of interest. "Your crewmates?"

"As such. I was one of three escaped prisoners aboard a Leviathan transport," she says. "We also had a former Peacekeeper and a human who came through a wormhole - Aeryn Sun and John Crichton, who came here before me." Zhaan hasn't thought about her time on Moya for a while, and she's surprised at how much she misses her ship, her crewmates, and her former life - even though she is perhaps better off now than she was then.

Escaped prisoners, a former (Simon's mind translates peacekeeper as something like police officer) ... something about it sounds wryly familiar.

"What about your captain?"

"We didn't have one," Zhaan says with a touch of smirk. "That was part of our general difficulty. We distrusted each other and often selfishly pursued our own agendas. Even I did. In time, and in spite of everything, that changed.

"Of course, anarchy and argument still reigned on the ship. That did not change."

"...we seem to have enough of that ourselves even with a captain."

Simon's taken out the inventory checklist, and is conscientiously noting what supplies they've used.

Zhaan first notes her use of vapor sedative, its antidote and temporary coagulant - Dr. Tam can put those on the list, when he's ready - and then starts putting away her inventory. "What sort of vessel do you serve on?" Probably not a military one, all things considered.

"It's a small cargo transport. Firefly-class." Half a beat. "Though I'm not sure that means anything more to you than 'Leviathan' means to me."

"It's doesn't," Zhaan says. "A Leviathan is a biomechanoid - a living ship. They are born, they reproduce and they die like other living beings. They were created to facilitate travel, trade and discovery. The Peacekeepers shackle them in control collars and use them as prison ships, as they had done with Moya. The one I was imprisoned on." Clearly, Zhaan is not happy about this. "We freed her from the collar when we freed ourselves."

"...a living ship?"

Simon blinks rather.

Zhaan nods. "I have never heard of anything comparable, even here. They are indeed alive, and sentient." She closes her supply cupboard. "I imagine there are many things where I come from that would sound strange to you, but the Leviathans are perhaps one of the strangest."

"How do they survive vacuum?"

He's interested, and also not a little unnerved.

"They are not entirely organic, and their biology is very different from yours or mine," Zhaan says. "They have an airtight outer hull and an inner hull, similar to carapaces on an insect. They also do not require oxygen or methane or any other vapor to survive. Mostly, they derive energy from certain frequencies of stellar radiation." Zhaan shakes her head. "There are those who spend their whole lives studying Leviathans, and yet still much of how they live and function remains a mystery."

Quietly, and fervently: "That's bizarre."

Something about Simon's expression, or perhaps his tone of voice, strikes Zhaan as particularly Crichton-like. Well, like he was early on, before Leviathans and Sebaceans and Scarrans became normal for him. "It is a large universe," Zhaan says succinctly, almost adding 'John' to the end.