Ens Hiro Jones - If You Give a Doctor a Cookie

[notyourfrog]

((Sickbay, Deck 7, USS Excalibur-A))

Things were starting to settle down in sickbay for Hiro. Edemas, abrasions, minor fractures, and a laundry list of other injuries had been tended to, and Hiro had taken the opportunity to replicate a cup of Darjeeling and an oatmeal cookie for himself. He had taken his first bite of the soft, chewy treat to accompany the warmth the tea had imparted when he heard the sounds of a transporter in the main area of the medical suite. It was never a good sign when someone was beamed directly here, so he chewed faster, not wanting to go into action with a mouthful of cookie.

Moving from the back corner of the suite (he still refused to adopt - however temporarily - Dr. Adea's office as his own), he heard a rather impatient voice call out.

MacKenzie: ::clearing her throat before yelling:: Any chance we could get some medical attention in here?!

Retrieving the tricorder from his hip holster and striding toward the new arrivals, Hiro surveyed the scene: a handful of extremely surly-looking Klingons were currently being escorted from the room. Hiro noted the hardened leather and mail armor flanked by armed Starfleet uniforms as the doors hissed closed behind them. Still standing where they must have beamed in were the two missing officers.

Lieutenant Dakora, while clearly somewhat the worse for wear, still managed to strike a comic figure. The clothing he wore, while technically Starfleet issue, was not exactly regulation. He shifted uncomfortably, and Hiro had to suppress a chuckle as he realized he was most likely refraining from picking a dream-haunting wedgie. The doctor part of Hiro's brain noted a lot of bruising on Dakora's skin oO blunt-force trauma Oo, shallow breaths oO indicative of damage to the rib cage Oo, and he stood rigidly, favoring his right side oO likely injury to the spine or back musculature Oo.

Commander MacKenzie looked rough, even by comparison. The first thing Hiro noticed was the large, hand-shaped bruise enveloping her throat. oO There's likely to be some psychological trauma involved with that one too Oo His attention was quickly grabbed however by her hand, which was at an unnatural angle oO wrist injury Oo and was instinctively being held protectively.

MacKenzie: Doctor Jones! I’m glad you could make it.

Jones: oO At least I swallowed my cookie. You'd hate to have crumbs in an  open wound. Oo Apologies, Commander. I didn't mean to keep you waiting. Welcome back.

He raised the tricorder to begin assessing her injuries, but was waved off by her uninjured oO less-injured Oo hand.

MacKenzie: Lieutenant Dakora first.

From the reading Hiro had done on the senior crew, he knew MacKenzie's background was medical. oO Always the worst patients. Oo He respected her care for her junior officer.

Jones: ::beat:: Yes, sir.

Dakora: Response

Hiro shifted the attention to Dakora, gesturing to a nearby bed. Talk about a grab bag of treatable injuries. For starters, there were phaser burns on his left infraspinatus teres minor and scapula inferior angle - meant to be a killing heart shot, no doubt oO he got lucky there Oo, signs of a grade 3 concussion, 8 of his 24 ribs were either bruised or fractured to varying degrees, and based on the hematoma, edema and soft tissue damage in the glenohumoral joint and signs of trauma to the diaphragm, Hiro guessed he'd been hung by his wrists for a while. All in all, he was lucky to be alive.

MacKenzie: And for the sake of gods, can we get him a dressing gown so I can get my clothes back? ::flatly, muttering almost to herself:: …not that I can ever wear them again now that you’ve stretched them out.

Hiro felt he was finally allowed to chuckle at Dakora's ... predicament. He flagged down a passing nurse and requested the change of clothes. After a few minutes, Dakora was garbed in the unflattering (but less constricting) silver-gray gown, and Hiro was just putting the finishing touches on his r.6 rib.

Jones: Alright, Lieutenant, why don't you rest here. You're fit for LIGHT duty, but I would like you to come in again tomorrow. There's some swelling in your shoulder I'd like to come down on its own. Five minutes of your day tomorrow, and I should be able to get you back to full duty in a couple of days. 

Dakora: Response

Jones: ::turning to MacKenzie, sitting on the next bed over:: Now then, Commander, let's see what you've gotten into.

MacKenzie's injuries, while not as diverse as Dakora's, were no less significant. Her lunate and scaphoid were both shattered. oO That had to hurt Oo The bruising at her neck went deep - her hyoid was broken in two places - not altogether uncommon, but it indicated the attacker wanted to kill, not merely restrain. In addition, her right lateral collateral ligament was torn, both patellas showed signs of prolonged and repeated low-grade trauma oO was she crawling around on the Daisy? Oo, and contusions to the parietal and zygomatic bones as well as the infraorbital margin with a grade 2 concussion. oO Did someone smash her head repeatedly against a wall or something? Oo

Hiro looked at the XO. She'd had a really rough time on the Daisy. He knew MacKenzie was tough as nails, but no one is an island. He hoped she had someone to talk through this ordeal with. Reminding himself he was no longer a counselor, he refrained from an offer of a listening ear. He somehow felt this stoic officer might perceive the offer as him calling out weakness.

Jones: Well, Commander, as with Lieutenant Dakora, I'd like you to rest for a few minutes at least. Take it easy the next few days, but there won't be any lasting physical harm.

He gingerly lifted her newly-repaired wrist, turning it gently around to test the repair. Satisfied, he set her hand back onto the examination bed's surface.

Jones: That wrist shouldn't give you any problems, but let me know if there's anything causing issues. Again, there's some edema I'm going to let come down naturally.

MacKenzie: Response

Jones: Doctor to doctor? I prefer to leave a little discomfort once I've made my repairs. It helps remind my patients they aren't immortal, despite advances in medical technology.

MacKenzie: Response

Hiro stepped back and addressed the pair together

Jones: Give it five minutes, and you're free to go. Would you like a drink while you wait? Maybe a cookie?

MacKenzie/Dakora: Responses

TAG/TBC

Ensign Hiro Jones, MD
USS Excalibur-A, Medical
E239510KD0
"Waste no more time arguing about what a good man should be. Be one." - Marcus Aurelius