(2015-07-22) Firsts
Summary: Firsts for both Jade and Quinton
Date: 2015-07-22
Related: Biting the Bullet

First-Aid Building Camp Hope
Wed Jul 22, 2015 — Wed Jul 22 20:59:46 2015

This is the first stop for the ill and injured. Hopefully it won't the the last. The first large room is dvided in half by a long counter. One one side is the waiting area, while the other is where all the action happens. This place wasn't designed to deal with serious trauma so the newest occupants have had to make do. There are no exam tables, just cots and chairs for patients. The cabinets that line the wall are at least full of necessary medical things. There is a few smaller rooms, including a bathroom and a bedroom for the medic on duty. There is a certain antispetic smell that lingers in the air.


Piper had spent the night, so there were two watchful eyes on Quinton as he got what little slumber that he could. Jade had gone out, once she felt it was safe to to stretch her legs (IC reason for Jade not being there during the privies scene) and probably passes Piper as she's leaving. Quinton is proper up, slouched slightly on his good side underneath some pillows. He looks pale, but fairly alert. Actually he looks kind of annoyed, a glare at the door which is quickly blinked away when someone else enters.

"How're you feeling Q-ball?" Jade asks as she returns, the patient having been dozing when she left. She's got what looks like a bottle of water in one hand, and an empty-seeming cup in the other, though it does rattle slightly when she puts it down next to him. "Have you been drinking plenty?"

Quinton's not sure how he feels about that nickname, but he's in no position to really argue it. "…Like I've…been shot." He eyes the cup and bottle, a small from forming again. It makes him look pensive…or maybe that's the pain coming through. It's instinct , he moves to shrug, which is a big mistake. He inhales sharply, his eyes snapping shut. At least he doesn't scream. It's either not as bad as yesterday, or he's getting used to the pain.

"You're more lucid than yesterday, which is good. Your previous dose of painkillers should be wearing off in about another fifteen; once that's happened, you can take these." Jade nods to the cup. "That'll put you out enough for me to remove the bullet and re-bandage the wound."

Quinton's jaw goes back and forth, looking at the cup unsure. Finally he'll ask, even though he doesn't really want to know, "What …what is it?" The hand attached to the good side of his body raises up and rubs his neck, seems he's stiff.

"Morphine. Not enough to completely put you out, but you won't feel the pain and you won't remember it being done when it wears off," Jade replies frankly. "Once the bullet and any bone fragments are removed, I'll re-pack the opening and bandage it. I won't be stitching it closed, it's the kind of wound that does better with coverage than enclosure. Less chance of bad shit."

Quinton's eyebrow raises, he wasn't expecting that. But that's a good surprise and he'll nods, a sliver of the tension that's coiled in his body loosens. "…ok.,,," Anyhting nod, "No bad shit…yeah." His eyes close and he rubs his face, the man needs a shave. "Is….girl ok?" He knows better than to try to say Nora's name…he'd call her Sally and they would just be all types of confusion. He seemed much more at easy with words when he was spouting off poetry lines.

"I don't know, I've not heard," Jade responds with a shake of her head. "D'you trust me to do this?" she then asks, ducking her head out to grab a passer-by and ask them to boil some water for sterilising tools with, then coming back in and dragging a chair over to sit beside Quinton's bed.

That's not the question an patient wants to hear. "Shouldn't I?" It's enough that Quinton doesn't even hesitate in his response, just looks at her with a slightly wide eyed look.

"I'm a vet, Quinton. I'm not a doctor. I've done this a dozen times or more for horses, cows, farm dogs, but not on humans. Theoretically you're just a slightly differently assembled animal, but I want to make sure you're okay with this," Jade explains bluntly. "It's your body. You get to say what you're comfortable with."

Quinton glances around, the look clearly noting the absence of anyone else that could possibly do it. " Did more of your….patients survive than not?" Maybe he's trying to be funny? There is the tiniest tug at the corner go his mouth. "You're it…doc."

"Well, yes. I've got a pretty good record. But I'm not 'it'. That bullet won't kill you if it stays in. You'll have less shoulder mobility and the potential for infection down the road, but if you said no, it's not the end of things," comes the calm explanation from Jade. "I need you to tell me that you want me to do this, and you accept all that I've said."

There's a clear debate, weighing of good vs. bad. In the end, it's the chance of limited mobliity. In this day and age…not being back enough can kill a peson faster than an alien can. He nods, "…do it." he then reaches for the cup with the pills. From what she said, he'll not be screaming so he doesn't need to ask for the kids to be moved away. that's good, at least.

There's a nod from Jade, and she passes the cup and water to Quinton. "Alright. Those should take maybe fifteen minutes or so to kick in, so I'll give it half an hour just to be sure you're comfortable. You won't be making a lot of sense while you're under, but I need you to try and remember to hold as still as you can, okay?"

Quinton takes the pills and then the water. He's not drank enough, but it's what he's been able to do. Ha makes sure to at leafs take a few sips along wight eh pills. "Do I …ever?" Make sense, that is. He considers, "Maybe…help…"

"Get someone in to help hold you still?" Jade interprets. "Possibly. It would be good to have a second pair of hands, for certain. I'll see if Bea is available." Having not met the other camp parent, she names the one she's briefly encountered.

Quinton nods, acknowledging that's what he meant. Anotehr sip of water and he glances up at the room, which has been decorated by childish drawing in crayon. Clearly sent from Piper's flock. It doesn't take long for the drugs to start to have an effect. He visible relaxes more and will offer a real smile up at Jade, "So…I'll be your first?"

There's a slow smile from the redhead. "Yep. You're gonna pop my human surgery cherry. Promise you'll be real gentle?" Jade teases gently. The person she grabbed from outside returns with a pan of boiling water and a small trangia to keep it hot. Into this, Jade places two pairs of surgical tongs and a slender scalpal. "Those'll take maybe ten minutes - they're already clean, but they've been in my bag for a couple weeks, so better to be safe."

Quinton eyes the woman, already losing the worry about the bullet…or the pain. He's still in pain…he just doesn't care. "Only if that's what you like…" He glances again to the drawings and then back as tools are talked about. he nods, yes…be safe. The poet's eyes are already starting to glaze over slightly.
<FS3> Jade rolls Poetry: Good Success.

As she sees Quinton begin to drift, Jade adopts a quiet voice, her tone level and calm, constant. No small talk either, but something that comes to mind easily for her, and may even be relevant to him also. "I sit in the top of the wood, my eyes closed. Inaction, no falsifying dream between my hooked head, and hooked feet," she murmurs, using a third pair of tongs to extract those in the bubbling pot, setting them out on a length of sterile bandage. That done, she heads for the sink, to give her hands and forearms a thorough scrubbing, keeping her words up all the while.

The words make hims smile, even as his eyes close. he's not sleeping! he's just resting his eyes. Actually he's not sleeping, as he's kinda propped up, sitting. That will not be good if he face plants off the cot. "I like that…"

"Or in sleep, rehearse perfect kills and eat. The convenience of the high trees! The air's buoyancy and the sun's ray are of advantage to me," Jade continues, shaking her hands until they're mostly dry, before returning to sit beside Quinton. "And the earth's face upward for my inspection." Checking that her metal tools are cool enough to handle comfortably, she then begins to gently uncover the wound, using a bit of sterile bandage dipped in the previously boiling water to loosen any dry blood that might cause the fibres of the wrapping to stick with the wound.

Quinton watches her, eyes wide. It's probably a little funny, but he's not heard anyone speak poetry, besides himself in what feels like forever. He wets his lips like he's going to say something, but then stops himself , afraid he's interrupt her. His shoulder bleed, probably more than she'd have liked. There's a small wince and his nose wrinkles but he stays mostly still.

Being as gentle as she can, Jade removes the covering of his wound and lays eyes on it for the first time. There's a slight nod, even as she continues, "My feet are locked upon the rough bark. It took the whole of creation to produce my foot, my each feather. Now I hold creation in my foot - or fly up, and revolve it all slowly." Lips pursing briefly, she takes up the second pair of tongs and probes the wound, inspecting the ragged edges and drawing them apart ever-so slowly until she can see the entry path, and a glint of metal deeper. "I kill where I please, because it all is mine. There is no sophistry in my body; my manners are tearing off heads."

Quinton blinks, watchig her out of the corner of his eye. At least he's watching her, and not the probing of his shoulder. It's weird. He can feel it, and not. There's a small warble in his posture and he sways slightly. But still he doesn't interrupt, it's almost like she's casting some spell over him.

Clearing her throat, Jade sets one pair of tongs down on the sterile bandage and lifts the scalpel, using the finer tip to ease the wound open further. It bleeds sluggishly; old blood that rose to the surface during the initial trauma, followed by a little new blood. Not much, not yet. "The allotment of death - for the one path of my flight is direct through the bones of the living. No arguments assert my right." With a clear path to remove the bullet, she swaps to tongs again, and even as she speaks the final words of the poem, eases them in and establishes a good grip on the rear end of the round. "The sun is behind me. Nothing has changed since I began. My eye has /permitted/ no change. I am going to keep things like this." Slowly, she draws the offending item out.

<FS3> Jade rolls Veterinarian: Good Success.

The weirdest part isn't the feeling/not feeling. Or the poem. It's the fact that he can hear the bullet scrapping his shoulder blade. The spell of the poem is broken and he instinctively moves, trying to get away from the grabby. "I don't…"

"Hold his hands, please," Jade directs her assistant calmly, even as she starts on another recitation. Apparently she's got a reasonable memory for poems, something she devours in her spare time. "I imagine this midnight moment's forest; something else is alive beside the clock's loneliness, and this blank page where my fingers move." Setting the crumpled bullet aside on the bandage, she works more swiftly now, using the tip of the tongs and scalpel to feel for bone fragments. "Through the window I see no star; something more near, though deeper within darkness, is entering the loneliness."

Quinton's eyes turn away from Jade, her mesmerization broken. He looks to who ever is holding his hands, glazed but worried, "I was shot." Woah. Not something he ever thought he'd say. The vet's lines start to drift back in, working some of their magic as she pokes about Quin's flesh.

There's no answer to the very astute observation made by Quinton. Jade continues on as if he hadn't spoken - hopefully he'll pass through this awareness soon, thanks to the brain-muddying powers of morphine. "Cold, delicately as the dark snow, a fox's nose touches twig, leaf. Two eyes serve a movement that now, and again now, and now, and now - sets neat prints into the snow." One bone fragment is retrieved and set aside, and she begins to search for others. "Between trees, and warily a lame shadow lags by stump and in hollow, of a body that is bold to come."

It was very astute! The lines of poetry seem to wash over him, calming him more. He sighs, soaking it in. Pale eyes drift over to the bandage, with the bullet on it. It seems too bright.

"Across clearings, an eye. A widening, deepening greenness - brilliantly, concentratedly coming about its own business. 'Till, with a sudden sharp, hot stink of fox, it enters the dark hole of the head. The window is starless still, the clock ticks; the page is printed." Jade extracts the last of the fragments as she wraps up the rhyme, setting the bone bits aside and using the tongs to pack sterile wadding into the wound, to soak up the leakage of blood caused by her removing several obstacles from its path. "There, done. Don't move, please. Let the fresh wounds clot, and then I'll put on a light covering."

Quinton's frowning, staring at the bullet. "Such a little thing…" To cause so much pain, anyway. The wound is bleeding, his back has a few drips rolling down it. His breathing is steady, but slow.

There's a faint little smile from the redhead. "Less the size, more the velocity," Jade offers, moving away to wash her hands once more, then once they've been shaken dry, comes back to remove the wadding and apply several layers of gauze and a top layer of bandage over the wound using surgical tape. "You should try and get some sleep. I'll talk about how to care for the wound once you've woken up with a clear head," she promises, using the tongs to clear away the bloody detritus, finding a new trash bag from somewhere and sticking the hazardous stuff in there. She'll figure out how to dispose of it later, not as if we have an incenerator on site. Right? "You want another poem while you drift off?"

"I didn't even hear till after it was in me…" Quin's face crumples. something Jade said is upsetting tot eh poet. "I sleep all the time." He arches over to take the bullet before she can throw it out. "Leave this.." There's a head shake, no more poems, no more spells. Even though he just complained about sleeping, he moves to lay down.

Instead, there's quiet companionship. Hair-stroking if he'll accept it - Jade's bedside manner is definitely more appropriate to animals, but people like head-pets too, right? And then, silence.

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