Lt Cmdr Quentin Beck - Panic! At the Sickbay

[Quentin Beck]

((Sickbay, Deck 10, USS Ronin))

Generally speaking, shore leave was meant to provide time off from the usual departmental worries. There were always exceptions, though, and boy, howdy, did Lolagi IV provide such an exception.

The Harmony Shores Collaborative Resort boasted some of the finest fusion cuisine this side of the galaxy, which was quite the boast, considering how many similar fusion restaurants existed… well, everywhere. But they were particularly known for experimentation, combining dishes from different cultures that otherwise might never have encountered each other, and often those combinations were life-altering.

This evening, the Resort's head chef had put together a rather intriguing combination that combined Xindi-Insectoid and Pahkwa-thanh ingredients (which, for both, ultimately turned out to be a combination of live lizards from their homeworlds that would normally be eaten raw) into a ground steak tartare of sorts; they should have used replicated meat to create the dish, but the chef wanted authenticity, which lead to a very serious outbreak of stomach worms that afflicted pretty much everyone that tried it.

Mostly, the Ronin crew had managed to avoid it, but there were still enough cases to keep the Medical staff very busy. 

Quentin had handled treating a half dozen cases himself. Thankfully, a simple round of radiation treatment was enough to destroy the worms, and antibiotics applied by hypospray would only leave the patient with a bad tummy ache for about twelve hours. The whole process took time, though, and he was engrossed with treating one of the Engineering officers when the others entered Sickbay. He didn't realize anything was wrong until he saw what looked like a little robotic spider of sorts wiggling its limbs and trying to get the attention of one of the nurses.

Arching a brow, he handed off the patient to one of his assistants who could handle delivering the hypospray before moving across the room towards Evinrude, Shortrith, and an Ensign he didn't know. He waved off the nurse, who had just started moving towards them, and frowned as he focused on the unnamed Ensign, who appeared to be in some sort of distress.

Wren: ::strained laugh:: You hit it? Man, my talk with… the captain about percussive maintenance…. oO What is going on. What’s…. Oo

She reached out to grab the wall, her body visibly tense.

Evinrude: ::To Shorthrith.:: You hit it? ::Then back to Wren.:: Ensign. Ensign! Please, come sit down. ::Neutrally, but firmly.:: That is an order.

She moved to sink into an empty chair. Her tension did not seem to ebb away.

Wren: ::genuinely embarrassed laugh:: I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s going on 

Evinrude: ::With a smile and a nod directed at Wren.:: Sorry, Counselor. You said...that your notes are missing? How much did you lose?

Shortrith: It was only today, and I have all the other days' notes on a backup drive.

Quentin pulled out his tricorder as he approached Wren.

Beck: I take it something happened to our friend here. Did she hit her head at all?

The Klingon shook their head.

Shortrith: Not that I'm aware of.

Tess nodded.

Evinrude: It was a damaged EPS conduit on this deck, near Stellar Cartography. I also didn't notice any physical injury, but it was a nasty shock that actually caused our intrepid ensign here to slam up against the wall. ::He straightened a little.:: I should have assessed the damage more thoroughly before allowing her to reach inside.

He studied the tricorder intently, pushing out his lower lip thoughtfully. While he could see some minor injuries from the impact to the wall, none of them would contribute to what looked like–

Wren: ::completely out of it:: I need my tappers

Remy: ::immediately resuming his dance::

Beck: … oh.

'Tappers' was a simple shortened version of bilateral tappers, which were well enough known by the medical community; designed to rest in either hand, they delivered alternating tactile vibrations meant to promote relaxation, grounding, and neural processing. They were especially useful for treating anxiety. He snapped the tricorder shut.

Beck: You're having a panic attack. It should pass on its own, but I can probably come up with a set of tappers if you give me a minute.

Shortrith/Evinrude: Response

Wren did not seem appeased by his diagnosis; instead, she seemed focused on whatever it was that triggered the panic attack. His brow creased with concern as he crouched beside her, a hand resting on her shoulder.

Shortrith/Evinrude: Response

Beck: I can also prescribe something to help you normalize, but if you've already got a method to cope, I hate to interrupt.

Wren: I’m fine!! It’s nothing like that, I promise, it’s okay, I’m fine, I can still do my work, I can do my job, I can help, I just need my tappers, they’re in my quarters.

Shaking his head with a sigh, he gave her shoulder a squeeze before standing and heading for the replicator.

Beck: Denial ain't just a river in Egypt. Just a tick.

Shortrith/Evinrude: Response

He stopped next to the replicator and pressed his tongue to the corner of his mouth as he considered what to search for. Tappers were not typically used on starships, at least as far as he knew, but he was pretty sure they were still in the database somewhere. He made a sound of triumph, poking a button, and the replicator cycled.

Beck: Voilà.

Plucking out a pair of blue rectangles just large enough to fit in one's palm, he turned to approach Wren and presented them.

Beck: I doubt they're configured the same way as the ones in your quarters, but they should be good enough to help you gain some measure of control again. They're wireless but connected to each other remotely. Give it a shot.

Shortrith/Evinrude/Wren: Response

He turned a little to look down at the little robot, tipping his chin towards it.

Beck: Who's that little guy?

Shortrith/Evinrude/Wren: Response

He chuckled, moving to drop to one knee by the robot and extending a hand with his palm facing up.

Beck: Pleased to meet you, Remy. I'm Doctor Quentin Beck, and I might have someone to introduce you to later.

Shortrith/Evinrude/Wren: Response

[Tags/TBC]

Lieutenant Commander Quentin Beck, MD, FASFS

Chief Medical Officer

USS Ronin NCC-34523

A238810SA0