Lieutenant Nera Ay - Doctors Make the Worst Patients
Jonathan
((OOC - This should have been posted directly after the mission, so just ignore the wibbly wobbly time!))
((USS Thor, deck 10, Main Sickbay))
Nera: It’s really okay, I can do it myself! Look, there’s an Ensign over by the door, go and see to them!
This was the third time he’d said it, going so far as to accompany the sentence with a series of shooing motions, finally sending the hovering doctors and nurses off into the rest of sickbay. They’d each been trying to poke or scan him since his arrival, and he’d had just about enough of it.
It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the care; he just didn’t see why he should take up someone else's valuable time when he could just scan himself and administer the treatment.
He was, at last, left alone, perched on the edge of a biobed, feeling decidedly bruised and once more sans his shirt. At least the holodeck hadn’t elected to eat the rest of his clothes, or delete them, or whatever holodecks do with clothes the program randomly decides shouldn’t exist any longer. At this point, he half suspected that the rest of the Medical Department had just gotten used to him appearing in one state of undress or another.
First, there’d been the Seda incident, and now the Command Simulations. And that wasn’t taking into account the not-so-friendly meeting with Nurse Eostre back on the Gorkon. Really, this was the continuation of a very bad trend.
Easing himself off the bed, a process that was as slow as it was painful, he collected a tricorder and an osteogenic stimulator, and made his way equally slowly into his office, ignoring the occasional concerned glance thrown his way.
oO Back straight, stop cradling your side…ow that hurts Oo
Once safely inside the office, he spent a few minutes alternating between sitting in the chair and standing, trying to find the most comfortable position. In the end, lying flat on the floor seemed to work best.
Powering on the tricorder, he aimed it at his ribs, moving the device up and down a few times to get the angle just right. With the little machine beeping and blooping away, gathering data, it seemed like a fine time, if unconventional, to record a log.
Nera: Computer, open a new entry in the CMOs log and begin recording.
Chief Medical Officers’ log, stardate 240303.28. I’ve not long wrapped up my part in the recent series of Command training simulations. The experience was interesting; I guess that’s one word for it? Unexpectedly challenging. Half of the time was spent trying to overcome the program skipping ahead and assuming we’d taken actions when we hadn’t. Like playing a game against yourself, weirdly.
The malfunctions aside, seeing how the bridge operates in a crisis, and watching the decision makers in action, now that was something. Quite a new experience for me, bridge duty is a rarity in my schedule.
Yes, it was a simulation, but still. They’re making decisions that affect hundreds of lives at a time. The weight that comes with it must be immense. Running one department seems so manageable by comparison. Is that something I could do, handle a whole ship?
Nera: Computer, erase last sentance and save progress.
That felt just a little too personal for a duty log, and if anything, more like a flight of fancy. Captain Nera sounded like a terrible idea, even to him. Possibly a good basis for a series of comedy holonovels, though.
Captain Nera and the Hunt for the Illusive Raktajino Nebula. It’d be a hit!
He twisted his head slightly, eyes tracing over the data on the tricorder. General bruising, a handful of cracked ribs on one side, which was more or less what he’d been expecting. The crackling when he breathed was a little bit of a giveaway.
Setting the tricorder down, Ay grabbed the osteogenic stimulator, moving the device slowly along the affected area; an excellent time to resume the log.
Nera: Computer, resume log.
Setting aside the pressures of leadership for a moment, it was at least thrilling to be so up close and personal to the action. Though it would be appreciated if I stopped finding myself in adventures that result in me borrowing hospital gowns. Perhaps I need to start keeping a change of clothes in my office.
Fin
Lieutenant Nera Ay
Chief Medical Officer
USS Thor
G240106NA2
He/Him/His (Player/Character)
