A Series of Minor Mishaps

Characters Emelene, Kytaer, Janja
Synopsis Emelene is working. Kytaer got set on fire (a little). Janja doesn't handle the infirmary too well.
Out-of-Character Date December 13, 2014

Infirmary
The Infirmary is a huge cavern that can hold several large dragons on one side. There are hoists to lift the cumbersome splints used on a dragon's wounded wing. There are also cubicles set off to the other side of the room where one can examine injured or sick humans. These are all well equiped and contain everything a healer might need to diagnose and treat wounds, injury, or sickness. There are also a couple doors leading into back rooms in the middle of the cavern. These are the offices of the healers posted here, and allow for a private room to talk to patients in.


It's a relatively quiet day in the infirmary. No major injuries, just the typical array of crafters with nasty splinters, too much sand in their eyes, and kitchenworkers with burns and cuts. The day to day, in and out, enjoy the rest of the day. Emelene is just seeing off a woman and her young infant, giving the new mother a wide smile as she heads for the entrance. "He's happy and healthy, you'd never known he was an early one. Take care, Wirren, and give my best to your husband."

Kytaer is already aware of the fact that Emelene is a midwife, and therefore is going to be more interested in the babies than in dealing with yet another burn, which is why he looks a little bit guilty when he comes in the infirmary doors and spots her as the available healer on duty. The guilt is blended with the unhappily strained look that otherwise crosses his face, because he's holding his left arm in his right hand and that left hand is covered in angry-burn blisters. "Erm," he mutters. "Help?"

Though Janja arrives just a few steps behind Kytaer, it's clear the young man has a serious injury to deal with and for once Jan is both quiet and reserved. She patiently takes a seat towards the side waiting while Kytaer can be seen to but can't help peering curiously over to see what's going on. No one's personality changes that much. Nor is patience one of her virtues, evidenced by the nearly continuous figetting of hands and crossing and uncrossing of legs. Finally, unable to restrain herself any longer, she calls pleasantly as though the whole room were not already aware. "I think he's hurt himself!" with a helpful point at Kytaer as well.

Emelene looks over towards the call for help, her brows knitting together with concern though she offers a reassuring, sympathetic smile. "Oh goodness, that's a mess, isn't it? Come on. Take a seat." She fetches one of the many chairs, padded so as for the comfort of those who might be sitting for awhile. Oh, and there's Janja with him. "I'll get him fixed up, weyrwoman, nothing to be worried of." And dutifully, a chair is also brought for her - close enough to be able to be near, enough to give the poor boy room. "What's happened?"

"Technically, ma'am," Kytaer tells Janja with a respectful dip of the head - it's a lot of respect he has for that particular goldrider, with her being the one making him not afraid to accept the Candidate's knot he now, er, should be but is not wearing, "Someone else hurt me. It was an accident, though." The explanation shifts focus to Emelene as its primary recipient, as he sits. "I was on kitchen duty and one of the stovetops started acting up, so I figured, I know wiring, I'll get in the panel and fix it … and some kid candidate," because Tae's so old, but this one was like, thirteen, "turned it back on while I was moving things around. Spark burns."

Janja's eyebrows jump as her eyes widen so large. She scoots her chair a bit closer, likely pushing into that too close range. "Oh that's just awful!" the goldrider exclaims with a hint of a squeel to her voice. Her nose wrinkles a bit and her eyes begin to water. "Oh..my. Oh Dear." Suddenly the chair is pushed a bit farther away this time and the pale face turns paler, just before dropping down to rest between her knees. A soft whimper goes up for just a moment as the rider's head hangs downwards.

"Well that was silly of them, but you're right, accidents happen." Emelene says gently with a puff of a breath as she fetches salves and bandages. "At least it wasn't more serious. Probably a good idea to have them all checked though so we don't have any repeats. Oh, I see congratulations are in order." She says with a smile and a gesture with her free hand towards the knot he sports, her other cradling supplies she brings over along with one of the wheeled tables to set them on. She holds out a hand to Kytaer to ask him to offer his injured one up, though her eyes glance aside to Janja as the woman whimpers. "…you weren't hurt too, were you, ma'am?"

"Worried they might get infected, 'cause, uh. T'be honest I don't know how something gets infected so I figured it'd be better to come here." Kytaer's logic is sound, and also very forward thinking for someone who doesn't understand how skin works. He offers a smile of thanks but is immediately distracted by the weyrwoman's distress - and his response to that is entirely teenage boy, "Maybe it's my story made her sick. She could be pregnant." His mother and sisters always got squeamish when pregnant, so that teenage boy logic is also sound.

Though all one can see are the waves of platium locks and slender back, a wain voice calls out "Oh no, don't worry. It's just." And now she begins to wave her hands around, big fluttering motions while her head is firmly tucked down. "How do you stand the smells? It's just so.." Janja's voice trails off and the hands fall limply to her sides. "Just fix him. He still has to fix my weyr." There's our girl, thinking of her self again. "I don't think I could bare the heat getting any worse."

"Oh." Emelene murmurs, looking a bit taken by surprise at the question. "I… guess I just stopped thinking about them. If you're around a smell a lot you just get used to it, I suppose." She slants a covert look to Tae, one full of subtle sympathy for his apparent duties. "Well, he'll not be able to use this head for awhile till it heals. Numbweed's a wondrous thing but it can't make someone heal faster. Thankfully, as long as it stays clean infection wouln't be a problem." The bowl looks to be filled with a foggy white liquid, which she tips a piece of cloth into. "Now, this may sting a bit, but I want to clean off your hand. I found infusing some numbweed into it helps take the worst of the bite but it'll still smart." And given he doesn't try to bolt, she'll cradle the injured hand and gently daub blistered skin.

"I can work on it one handed, ma'am, I pr-" Kytaer stops talking as the substance actually makes contact with the wound, and winces. Did we mention he's left-handed? So he can't actually draw out designs, but he's got solid dexterity enough in his right hand to manage other things. He's also doing his best to keep control of his expression, but it's a clear wince, eyes pressed shut. "— ow."

Janja slowly sits up though she's still several shades whiter than normal. "No. You won't. You'll get better first." The tone is surprisingly firm and no-nonsense. She glances around somewhat desperately, eyes settling on a file folder, health records possibly, resting on one of the local tables. The file is snapped up and she begins to fan herself with it. "But when she clears you, first thing you do is come fix my weyr, here?" She pants a little, skin shifting from white to pink and finally tinged a little with green. "Igen is so very hot!" Nevermind the woman's been here nearly a turn now.

"Native myself, of the Hold that is." Emelene remarks as she continues to work the cool, faintly numbing water over Tae's hand. "Trick with the heat and light is even once you're used to it, it'll still dry you out. Any of us here long enough tend to have a few extra years baked in. Tinted lotions help keep the worst off, make sure to use it. Wards off the sun spots and skin sickness. Always drink, too, even if you don't feel thirsty. Do those and you can survive well enough." With a gentle turn, she takes a last look to make sure it's all clean before setting the rag and bowl aside. "Now for the good stuff!" And the young healer is up and headed to the cabinet, withdrawing a pot of numbweed. There's no doubting the astringent smell of the full dose stuff once the lid's off of it.

Kytaer knows little of how to practically handle heat, as he hasn't been doing too well at it himself (though in the two months he's been at the Weyr, he has grown quite a significant smattering of freckles across once-clear skin). He does, however, know how to advertise his own services. So once he's done with his cringing, he's adding, "And stay near air conditioning as often as possible. Keep a personal unit in your weyr," with a grin. "But I'll not work until I'm permitted by th'healers, weyrwoman, I promise that too." She said so.

With the opening of the numbweed, Janja's eyes start watering again. No longer able to handle the doctoring any longer, the goldrider surges to her feet and runs off to a corner to be quietly and privately sick into one of the trash bins. Heaving over, the rider slumps down onto the floor. "Nice floor. Cool floor." She sighs and slowly slumps farther and farther down until her cheek is pressed against the floor, which likely is a bit cooler. "That's nice, Tae." she calls weakly. "Air conditioning is good."

Emelene is a professional and so leaves Janja to her illness in silence. No one needs to have it pointed out. Once she's done, however, the healer does offer whilst generously salving the hand. "There's a bed there if you need to rest, weyrwoman, and we keep clean cold water at the healer's station if you'd like to refresh yourself. You are right though, Tae, air condition is /good/. May those who devised such a thing be deemed heroes of Pern." And with the smearing of the numbweed complete, she sets the cloth used to apply it aside and goes about wrapping his hand in gauze to protect the skin. "Stop back as you need and I can reapply the numbweed till it gets tolerable. We'll rewrap it every day, more if it gets wet or gritty - because sand gets into everything here."

"I will have it done as soon as possible," is Tae's new conclusion about the air conditioning in Janja's weyr, making it sound prompt without making it sound as if he'll be working injured. "The sketch's done anyway." And Emelene wasn't calling out how miserable she was directly, so Kytaer's trying to do the same and keep talking like everything is fine. Well. Everything but his dominant hand. "You'll be seein' a lot of me then. Sorry."

Janja is much too happy with the cool floor at this given moment to climb up onto a bed, which seems a bit out of character for the normally very tidy rider. Eventually though, she pulls herself up to rinse out her mouth. She seems immensely better, complexion back to normal. "I'll be glad to, Tae. Visitors are always nice." She gives a small smile and goes to lay down for 'just a sec'. Or at least that is what it sounds like when she slips onto the bed. It's surprising though how quickly she seems to slip into sleep, or at least the semblance of it from some distance.

Emelene can only smile, a tiny and pleased little thing, as she looks to see Janja settling in. "Pft, no sorries, Tae. If it wasn't for patients, us healers wouldn't be very needed now would we? Besides, it was an accident. Do something silly like take a day trek out into the desert without supplies or play tag with a wild feline, then you'll owe me a sorry while I'm patching you up. For this? None at all. Just treat it gently. It'll remind you otherwise. Was your hand all that got hurt? And no one else I need to go chasing after?"

Kytaer hesitates before responding to Emelene, giving Janja another look of concern, brow furrowed. Maybe not pregnant. Maybe she's actually dying of liver failure. He's seen that before too and people usually got pretty tired. Thankfully he doesn't say any of that out loud. "I can also commit to not playing with wild felines and I think I'd die before y'found me if I tried that other one. Pretty sure I was the only injury, though," comes with another little shrug.

Based on the complete lack of movement and reaction to the continued conversation, Janja manages to get a nice little five minute nap going before some unknown thing snaps her awake. "What? No! I'm awake! I'm awake!" The rider flails about just as one does when startled out of sleep, eyes blinking blurrily. Suddenly she blushes. "Good shells and shards, there has got to be some way to fix this." Sighing, she stands and heads back over to the others looking about as confused as normal. "All fixed up?" The attempt to brazen it out is foiled by the very visible blush on her pale skin.

"Good!" Emelene says with a laugh as she gives Tae back his clean, numbed, and wrapped hand. "Just take it easy and you'll be just fine." And then Janja is awake and she adds, "He's all finished, weyrwoman. Are you sure you're okay? Not that I mean to intrude, no doubt your duties are… wearying to say the least. And the heat." She adds, sounding quite familiar with that bit of exhaustion.

"Or if you want a walk home," Kytaer offers Janja quietly, beofre turning back around to Emelene again - he's a good conversation-bouncer. It's a skill. "And, er. Thank you. Heaps." He's awkward and only sort of looking at her, he's also sort of looking at the floor. Tae talking to women.

"It's just the baby." Janja says, waving away the question of if she's ok with a hand motion. "I'm sick all the time and tired all the time." She grimaces unhappily, "It's not at all fun. Other people always seem so happy but I'm just sick." She frowns at the ground, shakes her head and looks to Kytaer. "I wouldn't mind a walk home if you're heading that way. C'vryn says I need to be taken care of. And Feyruth wants me home anyways."

"It happens to some woman." Emelene remarks with an understanding expression and a quiet sigh. "Some take to pregnancy easy as dry ground takes water. Others? Well, they say it means it's a healthier babe, barreling right through growing like a bull. It should get easier as time passes, but if it doesn't just let me know. My mother had some wonderful teas that helped easy some of the worst of it - recipe passed through the generations. If you'd like, ma'am, I can see some brought to your weyr."

Baby? So there is a baby. Not liver failure. Kytaer notes that internaly and moves on. "My family says all sorts've things about being sick with a baby that uh, probably most of it's not true, but I know there was tea." He only really remembers a few pregnancies, most his mother's, and then his older sister the one time. But he hears things. "Happy t'walk you home, though, if it'd help, weyrwoman."

Janja nods her agreement to both, giving the healer a thankful smile as well. "Please send those teas, if you don't mind. Er, can they be taken cold? I'm sure I could convince Ryn to fetch me some ice." She looks hopefully before going on. "Either way, send them on. I'm tired of losing half the food I eat." She offers her arm to Kytaer, forgetting for a moment which hand is burned. There's a small hesitation and she just switches arms. "Shall we?"

"Of course." Says Emelene with a genuine, bright laugh as she gathered the used supplies and moves to see them stowed away. "Distant kin of the Lords and Ladies of Igen themselves, all the way back. First think my grand-ancestors did was figure out how to take a tonic cold. I'll see them along by this evening. Take care you two and rest up. Healer's orders!"

"Iced teas. Now that, that I wouldn't've thought of!" Tae is genuinely impressed as he adjusts positioning to be able to support-slash-lead from his right. "Makes perfect sense though, ma'am, in the heat. Very clever. Should suggest it." It's sort of like an invention, so he can patter on about the good idea for quite some time, even if he doesn't. He could. And he spends most of the walk to her weyr entertaining the goldrider with talk of refrigeration compartments and how helpful her air conditioning unit is going to be. And how sad he is that he hasn't developed a hat that lowers body temperature yet. Yet.

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