Lt JG Alyndra Syrex - Radical Options

[Alyndrasyrex]

(( Meranuge IV Devastation Zone, Holodeck 2, Deck 2, USS Artemis-A ))

MacKenzie: We don’t have any, Doctor. Now what?

Syrex: Well.. There’s another way of doing it..

Man: Please! You have to save my daughter!!

Alyndra turned to the man.

Syrex: Your daughter will be fine, I assure you, she is in no danger. I need you to hug her, tightly. This will kick her sympathetic nervous system into overdrive, raising her heart-rate. She’ll regain consciousness and when she does you need to feed her something salty. Understand?

Man: But… But… She’s lifeless! She collapsed out there? Are you sure her head is alright?!

Alyndra smiled reassuringly at the man, but whilst trying desperately not to appear so happy to come across as condescending.

Syrex: Panic is normal in this situation, but I can assure you that our scans confirm your daughter is in good health. This is a chronic condition; stress can cause episodes like this. It’s very common where I come from. Follow my instructions, and she’ll be fine.

Man: Okay, Doctor, I’ll try. Thanks, I guess.

Alyndra turned to MacKenzie.

Syrex: Please can you ensure that this man gets something for his daughter when she wakes up, high in sodium electrolytes. I’m going to see who triage recommends we treat next.

Although Alyndra was a paediatrician, and her first responsibility was to comfort her patient. She knew in trauma responses; it was a luxury she simply didn’t have. She wanted to be there for the young girl. But there were plenty more people here who needed her specific expertise. The young girl had her father, that would have to do.

She gazed at her new aide, who nodded indiscernibly.

MacKenzie: On it.

Alyndra walked away from the situation, confident that it had been handled well enough given the circumstances. As far as she was concerned, there were multiple correct solutions. However, the efficacy of those solutions depended monumentally on the environment they were used in. A small twinge tagged at her mind, telling her she was wrong, that that response was wrong, but Alyndra knew it was because she’d never practiced in a trauma situation before, not on the ground anyway. The scarcity of materials, the smell, the air was chocked with pathogens, it was as foreign to her as the Delta quadrant.

Screaming brought Alyndra back into the room. She was grasping at the darkened hand of a man who was excreting noise into the air. She did her best to comfort him, as one of the civilian teams helped him into a clearly jerry-rigged canvas cot that laid on the floor. The man was clearly in need of medical attention, blood immediately stained the once army-green canvas, spilling from where one of his legs and his other arm would have been.

One of the civilians attempted to cover the charred, limbless screaming man’s mouth with cloth. Alyndra ripped the cloth out of their hands, shooting them a look and twitching her head towards the door.

From over her shoulder, Alyndra could feel the red-shirted Fleet Captain/Assistant MacKenzie approach her.

MacKenzie: We’re going to have to tag team this – where do you want to start?

Syrex: Agreed, can you see what spare blood they’ve managed to gather, please? I don’t think this man is going to be able to tell us his blood type, so universal donor if you can.

MacKenzie definitely nodded that time.

MacKenzie: Okay. I’ll go see what blood we have while you work on stabilizing the wounds.

Alyndra nodded at her, before turning her attention back to the screaming patient she’d found herself with. Grasping his hand lightly, she gestured to one of the civilians to discreetly hand her one of the makeshift frying pans that had been lying on one of the campfires outside.

Syrex: I’m sorry..

Alyndra opened her arm out over the patient's body, the handle of the frying pan being placed delicately into her palm. It shimmered with the intensity of heat leaving its surface as she grasped her other hand tightly onto her patient. She leaned in more intimately. Bringing the pan closer, until she touched the membrane where the man's missing leg would have been with the pan. His screams increased by at least three pitches as the wound burned, cauterising. The bleeding would soon stop, or at least that was the hope, along with any infection he would have endured.

It was a difficult decision to make. Would you rather lose an arm or a leg? He’d already lost one of each so the question was largely irrelevant, but if you had lost one of each, which one would you want in better condition?

That was a decision Alyndra had been forced to make for this patient, and she’d chosen the leg. He’d come in with no friends, no family. Perhaps they had been killed in the strike that had left him in pieces. He wasn’t going to talk to her.

Pulling the pan away, there was a slight reluctance for the skin to release itself. Pulling slightly harder, it came away. Dried blood, bits of skin, they all clung to it’s surface. It seemed it was single-use. If she used it again, it could bring infection to his arm, or worse, another patient.

Just as Alyndra finished the procedure, her assistant re-entered the room.

MacKenzie: This is all we’ve got.

Alyndra looked at her with disdain.

Syrex: That’s it? No universal blood? Whatever is universal for this species…

The fleet captain bit at her lower lip, shaking her head. Alyndra pulled back from the patient, her face fell flat as she shot her eyes between the blood bags, and her screaming patient.

MacKenzie: It’s your call, Doctor.

Syrex: It’s not worth it. If we’re wrong in what we give him, his blood will curdle worse than old milk. ::Clears her throat:: he needs a tourniquet, and fast-or we’ll have to take off the rest of his arm.

Alyndra grabbed the piece of cloth from the floor that had been used to try, and wrongfully shut the patient up. Before throwing it over to MacKenzie.

She turned to move closer to the screaming mans body. Even if he couldn’t respond, he should have the right to feel safe, to feel seen.

 

Syrex: I’m assuming you know about make-shift tourniquets?

MacKenzie: Response

Syrex: I’m confident the rest of their leg will be fine now. It’ll survive, that is. Not a pretty victory, but they won’t bleed out. Unless we get this arm sorted.

MacKenzie: Response

Syrex: It’s not going to work in this case, I’m not confident we won’t just delay the inevitable by giving them an infection.

MacKenzie: Response

Alyndra sighed in frustration.

Syrex: This just isn’t working. The bleeding should have stopped by now. Do you have any other suggestions? I have one, but it’s radical, and frankly, I’m open to other options.

MacKenzie: Response

 

TAG/TBC

 

Lieutenant JG Dr Alyndra Syrex MD

Medical Officer

USS Ronin (NCC-34523)

R240107AS3