[End Act 2] Lt. Robin Hopper: Nature of the Medical Emergency
Robin Hopper
((Sickbay, USS Independence-B))
The brief relief afforded to Robin by her temporary disintegration within the transporter’s confinement beam was short-lived – in fact, it was practically instant from her perspective – as, a moment later, she rematerialized in the Indy-B’s sickbay. Immediately, she felt the dull throbbing ache from her leg return, the Bicaridine making her less aware of the pain, but not entirely immune to it. Reaching out for Moore, and grabbing onto him for support, she furrowed her brow in concentration, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath to help her push through.
EMH: Please state the nature of the medical emergency.
oO Oh no. Oo
Her eyes shot open. She knew that voice. Immediately, her pained expression morphed into an irritated frown – the kind of look one gives to unexpected and deeply unwanted party guests. She should have remembered. That stupid PADD he’d tried to give her earlier. It was bad enough she had to put up with this new model of EMH, seemingly unbridled by concerns of professionalism or work ethic, but there also seemed to some sort of distribution of personal information between one ship’s EMH and another’s… beyond the expected medical data.
He was annoying. He was irreverent. He was creepy.
EMH: ::Looking at Hopper’s injury::: I see… there is no need to state the nature of the medical emergency.
Moore: It’s kind of clear.
Hopper: ::Brusquely:: Computer – deactivate EMH.
Computer: Unable to comply. Deactivation requires authorization from a ranking medical officer due to the current alert status.
Hopper grunted in annoyance.
EMH: Lieutenant Robin Hopper. On one leg. ::To Kiani and Moore:: Has anyone made the “Hopper” joke yet?
Moore: Sorry, I was a bit busy with the trip to make one, but I also don’t think it would be a great way to jump start my career if I did. ::He said with a slight grin.::
She wasn’t sure who to be more annoyed with, so instead she stared daggers at both of them.
Hopper: ::To Moore:: You earned some credit with me today, Ensign. Don’t spend it all at once. ::Turning to the EMH, pointing in his face:: And you are not my friend. You don’t get to make those kinds of jokes.
Kiani: ::noticing Hopper shooting daggers at the EMH:: Alright, break it up, you two.
Robin bit her tongue, but she wasn’t happy about it.
Kiani: ::sighing:: Please prepare the primary biobed. We shall be going into surgery as soon as possible. Besides the obvious need to repair the structure of the prosthetic due to penetrating trauma, we've also got to look at the possibility of neurologic impact, from neuropraxia to laceration.
EMH: I know nothing of neuroprosthetics.
oO Why doesn’t that surprise me? Oo
The holo looked aside for a moment, his eyes flickering disconcertingly as his program absorbed relevant files from the Indy’s memory banks. A moment later, he returned his attention to the three officers in front of him.
EMH: I do now. ::To Moore:: What is the prognosis, Doctor.
She grunted again and shook her head at the EMH’s antics.
Moore: Well, she has a damaged leg, seeping with a substance that closely resembles the grease used to lubricate Phaser Cannon Recoil bearings, and I suspect it might be Lupus... Perhaps. But it's never Lupus... What's your take, Doctor Kiani?
EMH: My mistake, Ensign. Without uniforms, it is easy to confuse new faces and roles. ::To Kiani:: What is the prognosis, Doctor.
Moore: It happens, easy mistake.
oO What? No it doesn’t. He is a computer program with complete knowledge of all officers stationed on this vessel – and besides, you’re wearing an identifying combadge. That wasn’t a mistake – it was intentional incompetence designed to make him appear more relatable. I don’t want a doctor that makes– Oo
Her own rambling thoughts were interrupted by Kiani responding to the question.
Kiani: Yes, well, the initial examination indicated that there wasn't much damage to the microprocessor controller responsible for sending signals to the patient's extant peripheral nervous system. There could, however, be unseen nerve damage, unaccounted for due to a failure of field instruments during the extraction.
oO What, now? Oo
Hopper: ::Suddenly worried:: Nerve damage?
The EMH reached for a nearby PADD, and tapped it a few times before passing it across the medical officer and holding it out in front of Robin.
EMH: ::looking at PADD:: Here. You may need this…
She looked down at and was unsurprised to see the cover of “T’Senara and the Gates of Gre’thor”.
EMH: …it will help you to relax.
Hopper: You’ve got to be kidding me. ((OOC – You’re not getting that set up, Danny!))
Moore glanced at the PADD.
Moore: Not a bad choice.
Hopper: Excuse me! I thought I was the one on drugs here… ::To Kiani:: Doctor, I’ve been shot and there is a hole in my body and the effectiveness of that Bicaridine is quickly wearing off – as is my patience.
She took the PADD from the EMH’s outstretched hands and passed it to Moore.
Hooper: Here. Go wild.
Kiani: That's all well, but we should get her prepped for surgery.
The doors opened and a nurse strode in, finishing up the zip on his uniform scrubs. Robin nodded. Yes, this was good. More real medical staff who understood what it meant to experience pain, fear, doubt – concepts which the EMH could only simulate. Medical holograms were meant for emergencies… to fill the role of doctor when nobody else could. That was their purpose – and were this an emergency, she would be more than happy to… well, she’d accept the need for the EMH’s assistance.
The nurse approached and ushered Robin towards an enclosed area where she could change out of her clothes in preparation for the unorthodox “surgery” she was about to undergo. She took a small step in the direction of the room and nearly screamed, grabbing onto Moore and letting out a choking groan. Perhaps this was an emergency…
As she took the nurse’s arm, she gave a little nod of thanks to her rescuer. Moore had been kind, and without him she might never have made it out of that godforsaken control hub. Still, Robin hated to feel so vulnerable in front of a group of relative strangers – and she found herself feeling exposed, even though she hadn’t yet disrobed. As mindful as he was being, she didn’t know this Ensign Kiani, nor his companion, Moore.
She wished that she’d just gone back to the Gatineau and let Ikaia look her over… She wished that Nathan was there. He’d know what to say to make her feel like things weren’t so bad. He’d know how to distract her from the pain that surged up her leg with each step. He’d know when to hold her hand and bear the pain with her. These thoughts swirled in her head as she changed, almost robotically, into the surgical gown, paying little attention to what she was doing. Since they’d arrived, she’d been doing her best not to think about worst case scenarios… but their progress had been slow.
She just hoped they weren’t too late.
Moore: There you go. ::He spoke, settling her in the biobed::
Robin shook off the worry that had clouded her mind, thankful that at least it had given her something to focus on other than her leg, as Moore helped her up into the biobed.
Moore: You should be all set.
Hopper: ::Sarcastically:: Oh yeah. I am… relaxed.
Moore: So… come here often? ::He flashed her a slight smirk, clearly attempting to inject some levity into the situation while Kiani was preparing.:: Don't worry. I promise not to judge if you do.
Hopper: ::Shaking her head:: My doctor has advised against it. ::Closing her eyes, a slight smile:: I appreciate what you did for me, Ensign. What you’re doing. Thank you.
There was something intriguing about the man. At first, she’d taken him for just another young Human Starfleet officer from Earth – but now, getting a better look at his face, and sensing the energy he gave off, she began to wonder.
Moore: I don't think we've had the chance to properly introduce ourselves. Usually, I make introductions before giving piggyback rides. ::He extended a hand.:: Ensign Kaito Moore.
She hesitated a moment then, with an awkward smile, accepted his hand.
Hopper: Lieutenant Robin Hopper. ::Glancing down at her leg:: I don’t think “usual” really factors into this mission.
She had to give him credit. There was an absurdity about the entire exchange that somehow did make her feel better, even if only slightly. At least they weren’t strangers anymore.
Moore: Pleasure to meet you, and under more formal circumstances, too. You know, less carrying and not aboard a floating safety violation. ::He strived to maintain his cheerfulness, falling back on lessons from his youth.:: While I'm not a medical professional, I've spent considerable time in a sickbay, and I'm fairly certain that phaser fire isn't beneficial to one's health.
Hopper: ::Rolling her eyes:: Congratulations, it sounds like you know more about medicine than our EMH – and you’ve got a much better bedside manner. He strikes me as sort of ‘unhinged’... Uhh, don’t tell him I said that.
Moore: ::He flashed her a cheesy grin.:: I'm confident that everything is going to be fine. That said, if you need anything, don't hesitate to reach out. That's all part of the rescue service.
Hopper: ::Small chuckle, despite herself:: If I need another piggyback ride, I know who to–
The doors to the changing room slid open, revealing Kiani, adorned in crimson scrubs from head to toe, looking like some sort of Spanish inquisitor. The standard starfleet surgical get-up was not comforting… and was particularly distressing on the aforementioned holographic doctor that accompanied Kiani into the room a moment later.
Hopper: Oh hell no.
Moore: Ah, excellent. The doctor has arrived. I'll get out of your hair. I really should head back to the bridge. ::He nodded at her, and then at Kiani.:: Good luck, Doctor. She's in your hands now.
Hopper: ::Softly, with teeth gritted:: Don’t leave me here…
Moore: Oh... One more thing. ::He lowered his voice to a whisper.:: Don't worry, Lieutenant. Your secret is safe with me.
With the flashy confident smile of one who was not about to undergo surgery in a parallel universe, Moore made his exit. Robin watched him leave and felt her heart sink slightly.
Hopper: ::Almost silently:: Noooo…
EMH: Response
The EMH's reply was, thankfully, cut short by Kiani’s prompt intervention.
Kiani: EMH, please administer the Anetrizine to Lt. Hopper while I have a chat with her.
EMH: Response
Kiani: ::moving closer to Hopper, who lay on the biobed:: Hello. I know this isn't the best of times, but I realized that I haven't made a proper introduction as yet. I'm Ensign Harrison Kiani.
As the EMH approached her with a Hypo, Robin flinched and glared at him, as if he were some sort of encroaching praying mantis and she were a suspicious fly.
Hopper: Anetrizine? Is that really necessary – uhh, ::looking at him momentarily:: Mister, or, um, Doctor Kiani?
She was fishing for confirmation, but didn’t receive it. Instead, as she was distracted, she received a hypo of Anetrizine to her thigh. She quickly swatted the creepy old man’s hands away from her.
Kiani: Look, I'm not going to lie. Your prosthetic has suffered severe damage. Despite not hitting most major control points, such cases often lead to the patient needing a new replacement. But considering our current situation. I shall wave such a precaution until we return to the station. Where a physical therapist may determine our next steps.
Hopper: ::Furrowing her brow:: A replacement?
She looked down at her leg. To her, it felt irreplaceable. It had been with her, save a few minor components, for over a decade – just before she’d left home for Earth. It was always intended to be permanent, and the thought of losing it felt to her no different than the thought of losing her right. It was the leg she’d first set on Earth. It was the leg she’d stepped up onto the dais with to accept her doctorate. It was the leg she’d danced with on the best worst night of her life. It was a part of her story.
Hopper: Yes. No. Just… whatever we can do to patch things up, make it work for now. I’ll find someone who can fix it properly when we get back. Replacing it… Replacing it is not an option. ::Looking back and forth between Kiani and the EMH:: Do whatever it takes – and, uh, let me know what I can do.
Kiani: All you have to do is sit back, relax and maybe read that comic EMH gave you. It seemed interesting.
Begrudgingly, Robin looked over to the T’Senara PADD sitting on the shelf beside the biobed where she’d tried to abandon it after Moore had refused to take it with him. Reading it was the last thing she felt doing… Particularly because it felt like giving in and surrendering her battle of wills against the EMH. But if there was even a small chance that the distraction could prevent her from jolting, or panicking, or doing anything that could be detrimental to her remaining whole, then perhaps it was worth it…
((Some time later))
It was worse than she could have imagined. After she’d flipped through it fairly quickly, the EMH had offered to read it to her while he assisted Dr. Kiani – in case she’d missed any of the details. Robin was sure her blood pressure had risen to a dangerous level – yet somehow she had managed to contain her judgments for the duration of the procedure thus far.
An injection of bioneural gel, replicated from the ship’s replicator pattern bank, had been used to replace some of her leg’s lost bioneural fluid once they’d found the right admixture to match viscosities. With no ability to properly repair the damaged components, Kiani (with help from the EMH, to Robin’s chagrin) had worked to essentially “graft” components from one functional area to the damaged ones, creating a sort of bionic patchwork.
The work had been sparingly quick, but Robin knew that it wouldn’t last. She’d have to get it properly looked at once they were back in their own reality, though she still refused to accept the possibility of replacing it outright.
Kiani: And what happened next? Did she capture the bioterrorist Spalov?!
EMH: Response
Hopper: ::Mildly-distressed grimace:: Doctor Kiani, am I correct in asserting that you’re nearly finished?
Kiani: Uh..Y-yes. ::announcing to no one in particular:: Applying the next microsuture, just above the left soleus.
Robin watched the ‘medical’ procedure with morbid curiosity. Somehow it was easier, less uncomfortable, when she could see the work being done. As Kiani finished up the last of row of stitches, effectively closing up her leg’s inner workings, and returned the outer aluminum shell over her ‘calf’, she breathed a sigh of relief.
Kiani: I think we're done here. Didn't take that long now, did it?
Hopper: Long enough. ::To Kiani:: Thank you, though. I can’t imagine having to sit the rest of this mission out. I owe you one, Ensign.
EMH: Response
Hopper looked at the EMH and, with much internal struggle, managed to nod an appreciation to him as well.
Kiani: Alright. The nurse will come in now to give you further information about recovery. I would suggest taking some time in one of the quarters for now. You're not needed at the bridge at this moment.
Hopper: I guess dancing is off the table for now… I’ll, um, try to take it easy.
EMH: Response
She rolled her eyes – but the gesture was quickly interrupted by another sharp injection of the anesthetic counteragent into her thigh. Robin squeaked in consternation, but refrained from swatting this time. As the feeling slowly returned to her legs, a dull ache crept up her limb nearly to her hip – a lasting reminder that she had just undergone surgery, albeit of an unusual variety, and her nervous system was still trying to make sense of the unusual input.
All the same, she was eager to get the hell out of Sickbay and follow the doctor’s recommendations and take a nap. She sat up, and swung her legs over the side of the biobed carefully. She attempted to wiggle the toes on her left foot and found that degree of motor control impossible. She could tell, however, that it wasn’t the anesthetic – she’d simply lost that ability. oO Just temporarily… Oo she told herself in an effort to reassure her worried mind.
Kiani: It was a pleasure making your acquaintance Lieutenant. I hope working with you in the future will involve less dire circumstances.
Hopper: I’m sure it will, Ensign. From now on, it’s routine survey missions and lab duty for both of us. ::Small smile:: The next time a singularity pops up nearby, we’ll let the civilian scientists handle it…
END Act 2 for Hopper, TBC in Act 3
