Posted by Gamemaster Narwhal the nefarious (GMT) in [AE] - 17/18 Forward

Posted by Commander Heathcliff Rinker (Chief Medical Officer/ Psychiatrist) in [AE] - 17/18 Forward

Posted by Lieutenant Lauren Shan (Doctor) in [AE] - 17/18 Forward
Posted by… suppressed (17) by the Post Ghost! 👻
The ships proximity alarm sounded as a huge wave of an unknown energy surged towards the Atlantis.

In 17 and 18 Forward, crew members who were enjoying some time off before their busy shifts hurriedly braced themselves to whatever they could and prepared for the impending impact. Officers conferred urgently, ensuring everyone was safe. As the wave approached, tension mounted, and the air crackled with anticipation. When it struck, the entire section shook violently, consoles rattling and overhead lights flickering, food trays and food itself was thrown about like some giant instant food fight.

Narwhal the nefarious
GMT
USS Atlantis

Korg sat at one of the tables, savoring a dish of Gagh bourguignon an Earth-inspired beef bourguignon adaptation. Suddenly, darkness enveloped the ship, accompanied by a violent upheaval that sent Korg’s massive Klingon frame crashing across the room. The force of the impact caused remnants of his meal to splatter across his torso, a grim reminder of the chaos unfolding around him.

Amidst the cacophony of screams and groans of pain, Korg’s instincts kicked in. With a guttural grunt, he swiftly accessed his own injuries, relieved to find them minimal. Despite the darkness, illuminated only by sporadic sparks and the faint glow of makeshift torches, Korg wasted no time in springing into action. =^=Ensign Korg to sickbay,=^= he bellowed in his commanding Klingon voice, =^=Medical emergency in 18 Forward.=^= With determination etched on his rugged features, he lent his strength to aid the injured, a beacon of resilience amidst the turmoil.

After a minute it was apparent that communications wasn’t working.

Ensign Korg, Son of Grak
Security Officer
USS Atlantis

“Who needs assistance,” Dr. Lauren Shan’s voice broke out in the darkness. She could barely see anything with even the emergency lights being activated. Oddly enough, Lauren was used to conditions like this. Probably more so than most of her shipmates in medial due to her shore leave activities. “I need anyone who isn’t hurt to help me locate those that can’t respond.”

Dr. Lauren Shan

“Doctor!” bellowed Korg’s voice, urgency lacing every syllable. “We have several injuries, mostly blunt force trauma, and one critical,” he explained, his tone weighted with concern. For the past ten minutes, he had been tirelessly moving about, offering assistance and triaging to the best of his abilities, but the severity of the situation was evident. “NE Newman was impaled by a table leg that had broken off during the movement. We have him around the corner, out of sight,” he continued, his words punctuated by the gravity of the situation. The blood loss had been… significant.

Ensign Korg, Son of Grak
Security Officer
USS Atlantis

Pulling a light from her med pack, Lauren made her way over to where Grak stood. Looking at Newman, Lauren put the light in her mouth holding it between her teeth as she stripped off her uniform shirt leaving only the black tank top underneath. Handing it and the light she said to Grak, “I need this into strips.” The amount of bleeding was going to be too intense for the bandages she had in the case. She had a limited amount of supplies and with no power, the replicators would be no use to get more supplies. Looking at his leg, she silently cursed whatever got them into this position.

“Newman, how ya holdin’ up,” she asked looking at the wound. The man was lucky to be alive. The table leg has cut his femoral artery however, since it was not removed, he was not bleeding out.

Lauren Shan doctor

Heathcliff Rinker had been on his way for a quiet drink when the energy wave struck the ship. It was blind luck that the doors for the turbo had just opened and he had been in an enclosed space. The small space had prevented him from being tossed the length of the room as many had been. With the space being cylindrical there were no sharp corners or edges to break bones or puncture the skin. That did not mean he was uninjured, just that Heathcliff could manage his injuries now and nurse them tomorrow much like when one was in a vehicle accident.

With the power down, the turbo doors had frozen open allowing him to hear the chaos coming from 18 forward. Making his way down the corridor, he entered the room, thankful those doors had also been frozen in the open position.

“Who needs help,” he called out in the room. The room reminded him of his time on Betazed during the Dominion War with the moaning of injured lying everywhere.

Heathcliff Rinker CMO

“Over here,” Lauren snapped out hearing Rinker’s voice. She had enough contact with the man at the general medical staff meeting to know he was now her boss. Lauren wasn’t sure if Rinker had any idea who she was. Lauren preferred to work the grave shift so her contact with most of the staff was updates on her way out of sick bay. This led her to wonder where Rinker’s medical training was after sitting behind a desk for years asking people, ‘so tell me about your mother.’ “I need a set of hands now please.” Her tone was crisp and curt addressing him as if Rinker was a nurse and not the chief medical officer.

He came over quickly and assessed the situation.

Lauren had the heel of her hand pressed hard into the man’s groin attempting to limit the amount of blood entering the artery. Her uniform shirt was tied just above the spot where the table leg impaled the officer and still a large slow leak was staining the area a dark black. Sensing Rinker was close, Lauren began to bark out orders. “Okay we need to suture this but he is going to bleed out the second we try anything. Without power we can’t do an emergency evac so we seal off the internal bleeding, stabilize the table leg in the leg to prevent further blood loss, and do an amputation later or,” she rattled off plan.

“Or..or what the hell,” the officer stated trying to sit up. “I am not losing my leg.”

Ignoring the patient, Lauren continued talking to Rinker. “Or we get this strapping Klingon to be a second tourniquet, one of these bystanders to pull the table leg, and we both close the wound working simultaneously. Lauren’s plan was risky but sitting here doing nothing would kill him. Another wave hitting the ship would toss this man around and dislodge the table leg killing him in under a minute. “I say we do the latter but I am not sure of your surgical suturing skills.” Lauren’s comment might have sounded arrogant but she weighing her options for the patient. If the CMO could not do this, they would go with plan A.

Lauren Shan doctor

“Makes sense,” Plus she had been assessing the situation longer. He took a deep breath. It had been a minute since Heathcliff Rinker was in a surgical suite with a patient’s life on the line however some things were like riding a bike. He was glad this bike was going to be a tandem one for his first time back into the saddle of emergency medicine. “You take the top of the artery, and I will take the bottom,” he remarked reaching over to a bottle of whiskey rolling around beside him. It might be the twenty-fourth century but infection still killed. Pouring a measure on his hands, he rubbed them together. There was no sense adding more bacteria to the probable septic situation.

Lauren stopped and looked at Rinker using the whiskey. Her face was a mask of confusion and tension. It seemed the kindly counselor had a few more tricks up his sleeve than she might realize. No one used booze for an antiseptic except for a select few. It was basic knowledge and yet with the medical technology they had no one ever thought of it. Well, no one but those that had been in situations where it was all they did have.

He looked at Shan, “It’s better than nothing.”

Rinker

“Give me some,” she gestured leaning slightly forward. It was clear that Lauren did not mean for her hands. Wrapping her mouth around the neck of the bottle she swallowed the hot liquid like a professional. Lauren did not cough, hack or whine about the burn. All telltale signs of someone too used to booze.

Seeing Shan take a drink instead of disinfecting with the whiskey brought a momentary pause. It was all well and good for a television doctor to take a ‘drink’ in the real world that was negligent. “Lets stay on the level.” There wasn’t time to be a rigid rule follower, since he wasn’t one as a rule, but he wasn’t going to drink before emergency medical procedures. Now he have to watch everything she was doing. It actually wasn’t wrong to have had a drink, it was wrong to be impaired. Even the lightest weight wouldn’t be impaired by that amount that quickly.

“Grak,” she yelled out to the large Klingon. “Do you see my hands? Make this shape. Put yours right on top of mine. When I tell you to press down as hard as you can. I would rather worry about a fractured hip later. You can’t hurt him any worse.”

“Can I get a second opinion,” the patient grunted out feeling light-headed.

“Yes, She’s right. You will be fine son.” It’s obvious she had done this before. Rinker had nothing to lose promising the young man this. Stating there was a better than not chance he would die in the procedure would only cause the man’s heart rate to further increase. This would make him bleed out faster. The difference between being a doctor with a patient in crisis and being a counselor with a patient in crisis was the white lie. People tended to forgive the while lie after you saved their life in medicine. People harbored the lie in counseling breaking all trust. It was a easy decision for Rinker to white lie here. There was no point in stating the obvious which was the man had a lethal wound with a slim chance of survival.
As instructed Korg made the shape demonstrated by the Doctor and positioned it ontop of her hands which in comparison were dwarfed by his own. “Ready” He said in his brought klingon voice.

“Yes,” Lauren said curtly.

“Wait wait wait can we talk about this,” the patient grunted through the pain.

“No, and don’t move. You move and it makes our job harder. Wiggle and you will die.” Lauren’s voice was curt and to the point. She could coddle him with a soft voice and friendly words later. There were too many people hurt and this guy might not be the only one that needed immediate attention. He was just the first one they were working on.

“Dr. Shan we might need to address your bedside manner during your yearly eval.” It was meant as half a joke. He actually found her amusing.

“Give me the suture and pull the table let out on my count.” Opening her mouth she waited for Rinker to put the device between her teeth. “Uh Ewe Eeeee,” she counted out and did not wait for anyone to confirm her order.

Lauren Shan

Korg pushed down hard just as instructed applying his weight behind him to assist in any way he could.

Ensign Korg, Son of Grak
Security Officer
USS Atlantis

The moment she began to count, Rinker laser-focused his attention on his part of the procedure.

Heathcliff Rinker CMO

Lauren did not focus on anything but her spot on his leg. The moment the table leg was pulled out, blood began to pulse out in thick globs which made her and Rinker’s job more complicated but not impossible. “Almost there,” she called out as her suture moved towards Rinker’s. Talking during surgery kept everyone on the same page. Usually, it was to call out to the nurses and not to participate in a relay race with another doctor. This surgical repair would not be the prettiest but hopefully, they could complete the job before the man bled out. Only time would tell if it worked or not but they would know in the next minute if the patient would live or die.

“Anyone else hurt,” she called out already thinking about the next patient as they finished up with they could do with this one.

Lauren Shan.

Bump for GM

After a while the comms crackled and a general message came through from the XO .. =^= All hands. Report in through your comm units - name, location, injuries and whether you are mobile =^=
- Jen, XO

In the chaotic aftermath of the energy wave’s impact on 17/18 Forward, Crewman Jenkins bore minor contusions and bruises from the violent jostling, while Ensign Patel nursed a small laceration on his forearm, courtesy of shattered glass. Nearby, Lieutenant Chen grappled with a moderate concussion after being thrown against a bulkhead, while Petty Officer Ramirez hobbled with a sprained ankle from the debris. Crewman Nguyen winced as he attended to a deep puncture wound on his thigh, the result of stray cutlery propelled by the force of the impact. Ensign Thompson cradled a fractured wrist, the consequence of colliding with equipment amidst the chaos. Meanwhile, Lieutenant Carter lay gravely injured, a deep laceration across his abdomen a testament to the severity of the impact. Petty Officer Martinez struggled to breathe through the pain of multiple rib fractures and internal organ damage, while Lieutenant Commander Johnson’s life hung in the balance, his spinal injury rendering him paralyzed from the waist down. As they grappled with their injuries, the gravity of the situation weighed heavily on all present in the battered confines of 17/18 Forward.

Gamemaster Narwhal the nefarious
GMT
USS Atlantis

=/\=Lt Shan and Commander Rinker are in 17/18 Forward =/\= she replied immediately to the XO. With Rinker busy completing the sutures and bandaging of the femoral injury, Lauren did not work about rank and file. =/\= Five minor words. Four critical ones. I am assuming we do not have emergency transporters but when we do I have five that need transport out of here.=/\= Tapping off her comm badge, Lauren looked around the room.

“Hi,” he said in a sing-song voice in the background before the quick acting doctor could cut off the line.

“Take the abdominal laceration,” Lauren snapped out to Rinker as she headed over to the spinal injury.

Lauren Shan

Rinker pursed his lips, ‘guts’ he said under his breath. Heathcliff rolled up his sleeves and moved to the patient Lauren indicated. “Any reason for the choice,” he asked the lieutenant.

“I took a correspondence course once and slept in a Holiday Star Inn last night,” she replied in a neutral tone. “Also you were in Starfleet during the Dominion War. I assume you ran across a few abdominal wounds. You should be able to treat that in your sleep.” Lauren had no idea what the man did in the war but for as little as she knew about Heathcliff Rinker, she did know he wasn’t the type to sit back.

“I was,” Rinker responded to the history lesson. “I wasn’t aware you committed my service record to memory.” It was not a period in his life he relished reliving but the connection was clear. This place looked like a war zone and the injury was fairly common in battle.

Moving to her patient, she pulled out her tricorder and scanned him. The impact injury had broken several thoracic spinal bones but it appeared had not severed the nerves in his spinal column. The inflammation of the injury could be adding to the reason for the paralysis. What could not happen was the man being moved. “Hey Johnson,” Lauren took on a sweet and slightly flirty tone. “You know there is an easier way to get me to the lounge for a drink.” She had working-level friendship with the man and shared a drink or two with him over the years. “You are going to be fine but I need you to not try to get up.” Glancing at the scans from the tricorder, Lauren hid the frown behind a well honed bedside manner expression. Most people panicked at the main symptom of a spinal cord injury. Unfortunately, there was something more pressing and that was autonomic dysreflexia. This condition was life-threatening and her more immediate concern. AD tended to occur a few weeks to months after the injury but with the red alert situation and unpredictability of the next few hours, it was exacerbated to bring his heart rate to dangerous levels. “I am also going to ask you to relax. Buck up Commander and be the beacon of calm the rest of us need right now Sir.” The request was unfair of her however giving a patient something to think about or do kept them calmer. Being a high-ranking officer, Johnson was trained to remain calm in all situations. Pulling out a hypo she leaned down to whisper in his ear, “I am giving you a shot of superman juice and something for the discomfort. It will be our secret.” Lauren could not give him a sedative until she got his blood pressure under control. The placebo effect of Johnson thinking he was getting something other than a nitrate would hopefully work.

“I’m thinking we just stabilize until we can get them to sickbay and do some real medicine as opposed to the prehistoric stuff.” It would leave the wounded, wounded, but it would have much more advanced and cleaner long term results without needing to undo everything they did. But he was willing to get a second opinion.

Heathcliff Rinker CMO

“Agreed but don’t knock the prehistoric stuff. People in the twentieth century survived by doctors giving them the once over visually. They also survived having holes drilled into their head. One step up from the leeches but don’t knock it if it works right.” Lauren hoped to add a spark of levity to the situation. Both she and Rinker had patients one step from the morgue.

Lieutenant Carter reached up and grabbed Rinker’s arm in a death grip. Seeing your blood seeping from your body tended to raise one’s anxiety level. “I don’t want to die. Don’t let me die,” he pleaded to Rinker. The man’s movements were only increasing the difficulty in treating the patient.

Lauren Shan MD

“You are not going to die. Remove your hands. Little help here,” he called out to the able-bodied crew trying to help the others. It could be hours before someone got the lights back on or power up. He did not want to waste the limited supplies in the med kit from the room. Too many were injured and too little certainty about the future to use all the sedatives without knowing how many needed them. “Narcotic,” Rinker yelled out to Lauren who had the med kit closer to her.

Reaching out she tossed it to him without hesitation.

Heathcliff Rinker CMO

Bumping

Gamemaster Narwhal the nefarious
GMT
USS Atlantis

The moment the drug entered his system, Carter relaxed some. The narcotic not only dulled the pain but also his senses. The men next to Rinker helped him pull back Carter’s hands so Rinker could work. “I have a girl sir,” Carter’s voice was thick and heavy as if he had been drinking all night.

Lt. Carter