Participants:
| Scene Title | Suck It Up Soldier |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Megan and Abigail both do some exploratory surgery and repair when Lash returns from the convoy mission. |
| Date | November 21, 2010 |
Pollepel Island: Infirmary
The redheaded whirlwind that is Megan Young comes flying down from the memorial service to the infirmary. She has no idea what she's going to find — they said critical condition, and she's prepped for the worst. At least the worst that she herself can handle down here. She stops at the door long enough to snap up a pair of gloves to yank over her skin and calls to the group surrounding the table they're using, "Sitrep!" The order is barked in a calm tone as she makes her way through to the bedside.
Lashirah is out cold on the table, a cut away bloody shirt and jacket set to one side. One shot, below the rib cage. A bloody mess if there ever was one, and if she was awake to comment on it, the forensic scientist who had spent more than a little time in the morgue likely would have a quip about "Well, that had to hurt." Instead she just is there, likely out cold either due to pain, blood loss, or possibly both.
Megan grabs her stethoscope from around her neck where she forgot she was wearing it when she went upstairs, popping the earpieces into her ears to check lungs and heart for sounds of rupture. The bullet wound could have done a massive amount of damage in that spot — all the major organs are in the general vicinity. She turns laser-bright eyes on one of the young men that she hasn't yet memorized a name for. "Son, I need you to get me a surgical kit out of the cabinet on the left, I need three rolls of sterile gauze, and I need an IV bag from the refrigerator. Now." Her tone remains calm and collected throughout. Right now she's simply going to see if she can make sure Lashirah is stable. Taking the bullet out could be worse than leaving it in.
"I got the bag" Abby apparently made up time by running like hell through the halls to get down to here, bringing with her the warmth that she's been trying hard to maintain so that those around her won't be cool from the onset of winter. Sleeves already pulled up to her upper arms, she's grabbing a new set of sterile gloves and slipping them on and making for the IV bags and everything else that she'll need to get it set up.
The now brunette with her blue eyes whips around to the other side of Lash, across from Megan, cutting off the woman's shirt in preparation. She'll take care of the IV it seems and putting it in. Abigail settles into that spot that Peter's seen her go to, that Delilah and Teo saw her go to when Dee went into labor. Focus, find the little spot of nirvana and focus on the task at hand. Panic later.
Lashirah might be somewhat lucky in that the bullet hit low… and was high enough power to actually make a clean hole THROUGH the young woman, likely leaving no bullet to be removed. The heart beat is weak, lungs slow, but no gurgling of a puncture. What might be more of a mess is the fact that from the looks of things, is that her intestine likely got nicked by the bullet's path. The run to the boat likely didn't help matters any… and she'll be glad to forget she was carried some of the way after she's awake enough to forget.
The sounds of Lashirah's body are actually far more reassuring than some might understand. Megan's brows pull together and she tells Abby, "Help me tip her up." Her suspicion that the bullet was a through-and-through is confirmed when she gets the unconscious girl up some. "Fuck," she murmurs softly. This is….. above her pay grade. If the intestines are nicked, she's going to have to go in. And while Megan's good at a lot of things, she's not a surgeon.
She looks up at Abby and murmurs softly, "Abigail… " Closing her eyes for a minute, trying to remember what she knows. Christ… if she screws this up, Lashirah's going to die an agonizing septic death. "Abby, we need to open her up. She's got internal injuries and if we don't, it's… going to be bad." It could be real bad anyway.
Abigail looks up from Lash's arm, making sure the IV is secure after the woman was tipped, a glance down to her abdomen and then to the nurse. "Then we open her up Megan. I don't know about her, but if it was me, and I couldn't be brought to a hospital, I'll take the extra stitches and the scar if it meant that I didn't die from septicemia" It's plain and simple to Abby. "It's not the first time I've been elbow deep in someones middle" If it's any consolation to Megan. She's just not gonna say that at the time, she had healing as an ability. "Get some blood. If we have any. If not, then we'll make do, more fluids in and we'll be quick as we can. That sounds good?"
It sounds good to the former blonde at least, who's already grabbing from the pile of towels that are dotted around the room, getting ready to do this. "Do or die Megan, either way"
Suck it up, soldier. Megan pulls in a breath and nods. "We stockpiled a few bags of blood. They're in the other refrigerator." There's not as much as Meg would like, but beggars can't be choosers. "Pack the back wound with towels, but don't block it up," she instructs quietly. She takes the surgical gear from the young man she sent to get it, laying it out on the table next to her, and then sends him to the cabinet behind Abby for betadine. As she works calmly with the ex-blonde, Megan is impressed with Abby's control.
Retrieving a couple of suture kits as well as two bigger lights, Megan sets up the table as best she can. "All right, Abby. When I open her up, I don't know what we're going to see. We're going to have to follow the bullet's path. If we're lucky, it'll be a simple bleeder and we'll just close it up. If it's nicked the bladder, the liver, or the intestines, we're going to need to clean it out extremely carefully." And Megan won't promise that this will actually do the trick, either. Intestinal wounds are tricky even in hospitals.
"And dose her up with antibiotics like a drunkard drinks and hope that she doesn't get MRSA or something" Abby nods, tamping down her heat a bit. This isn't her first dance at the ball, they've come across disemboweled people in the ambulance, and then there was Rickham, and Teo. It's just her first time coming to this particular prom, in which she's going to be on the dance floor so to speak. "You cutting her open or me and how wide? Do we just make more room as we go?" There we go, Abby's doing the math in her head with some of the few drugs they have to seriously knock a person out and keep them out for this express purpose. She should have brought her books with her. Maybe she can give some cash to someone going on a run and ask them to pick up the texts for her.
It would seem Lashirah is not likely to be popping awake… but Abby is very correct in the fact the body will move and weakly struggle to ward off invasive techniques of someone's who's just 'unconscious'. Someone later will have ironic comments to make about this whole situation, if she's lucky.
Megan nods. "I'll do it," she tells the paramedic quietly. It's on her head if things go south. Once they've got things as sterile as they're going to get, Megan picks up the scissors to finish cutting Lashirah's clothes off her. As she picks up the scalpel, her hand trembles and she's forced to hold her position for a long moment to take in a deep breath and still it.
"Dear lord" Abigail's voice is low, the two of them can hear, those closest to the table. "I can't get out much to a church these days to thank you, but I can get to my knees and ask you. Guide Megan's hand, help her to find the strength and the inner strength needed to save Lashirah's life. What we do, we do for the help of another in need and for a woman who put her life on the line so that others may live without persecution"
It's no surprise that Abigail's praying and anyone who doesn't like can suck it. "May you be at her elbow, guiding her, may the wounds be no more than we can handle and may her recovery be swift. I ask of you this, knowing that if it's your will, it will be done either way. Thank you lord for our own lives and our knowledge so that we may aide this woman. Amen" Not long or drawn out, her hand briefly touches the air above her breastbone where her cross would have sat, and looks up to Megan, a nod of her head. "Now or never"
Megan's hand continues to tremble just a little, but the redhead grits her teeth and moves to make the first incision. The morphine in the drip line is going to have to be enough. This is field medicine — not at its worst, but it's definitely combat medicine. God help her, the last gut shot she handled died in her hands. Please don't let that happen now.
The incision is swift and clean, and Megan uses clamps to pull back just enough skin and muscle to be able to see into Lashirah's innards. The bullet's made a mess of things, and it takes several long minutes to control the bleeding well enough to see what's going on in there. And Megan murmurs softly, "It nicked the intestine. Get me another bag'a of saline, we're going to need to flush the whole area as best we can and hope it's enough." Her hands are forearm deep in blood and guts, and Megan's voice remains calm with a hint of tension… but it's the sweat on her forehead that gives her away. Her blue eyes flicker back and forth over every action she takes, checking and rechecking as she cleans, stitches, cleans, checks other organs, et cetera.
It'll be far too long when all is said and done, in a really non-sterile environment, lack of the necessary skills or the machinery to ensure that Lash is comfortable and nothing goes wrong. Abigail is there beside her, looking up over the flimsy face masks, helping blot, stitching away as well and between the two of them they can do it, they do do it. It's not pretty and any surgeon worth his stuff would cringe at everything and call it barbaric.
"I can close her up Megan" Abigail offers the other woman. "I can close her up and you can go look at the others, I'll keep an eye on her and if I need you, I'll come grab you"
When they reach the point where Megan's comfortable letting Abby do the last of the sewing, the redhead's tension is through the roof. She looks up to meet the younger woman's eyes and nods slightly. "All right," she says finally, taking her hands away. "All right." It's just the surface wound's closure on Lash's back that remains. Ripping the gloves off, the older woman heads for the bathroom to scrub off the blood before she touches anyone else. And if she stands over the sink with her head bowed and sobs uncontrollably there…. well, there's no one to hear it over the sounds of the water running at full blast. By the time she steps back out of that room, the face that meets the others' looks is once more composed and calm as Megan checks over everyone else who came in.
Some Time Later
It's nearly a full two hours later when Lashirah starts to stir. The first expression on her face is a wince as her hand almost instinctively reaches to press against where the wound was… followed by a curious sound as her fingers do not move as she expects due to being nearly mummified in gauze from the elbow down. She opens her eyes to see… Abby. There's a small smile, and she asks quietly. "Hurts too much to be dead. So did we burn through the worst of it?" It's a minor quip, meant to draw a smile from a worried face.
Movement, followed by sound. That draws Abby away from her bible and towards the former agent with a cautious smile, genuine it may be. "I'll get you something for the pain Lash, welcome back to the land of the living. Megan's around somewhere, helping take care of the others. I really suggest that you don't move." She turns in the seat, full on to Lash now, lifting the woman's shirt enough to check the bandages for any red. "You'd have to ask the others, I haven't been privy to anything else, other than everyone made it back, and you are gonna pull through, barring any infection and a lengthy stay in bed"
The murmurs from that corner draw the attention of a tired redhead. Megan comes around the makeshift curtain that they hung to keep people from Lashirah, checking on the situation. "Well," she observes quietly, moving to pull a flashlight out of her scrubs and flashy-thing the patient in the manner of all good nurses. "Glad to see you with your eyes open. Can you tell me what day it is? Give or take," she adds with a faint grin.
Lashirah smiles, but doesn't laugh. "Let's see… about a week since I nearly got a concussion from a night stick smashed into my head…"
Lashirah smiles, but doesn't laugh. "Let's see… about a week since I nearly got a concussion from a night stick smashed into my head…" She pauses. "I'm guessing it's near the 19th by now? Give or take."
Megan's here, Abby defers to the one with more experience, turning to the tray nearby with the necessary painkillers, so she can get the hypodermic ready to give to Lash when Megan gives the okay.
Tilting her head, Megan asks, "What's the last thing you remember?" She seems cognizant. Which is good. Lash will be able to have the painkillers after all the requisite annoying questions.
Lashirah wrinkles her nose. "Being shot while trying to cover Ryans. Tried to put pressure on the bleeding. Being helped then carried to the boat… we made it there… I remember feeling cold then… nothing till now." She keeps her answers short. "Ugly damn place to be shot." She notes dryly. She'd helped and performed enough autopsies to know she's lucky.
"Just nicked yer intestines, that's all. The lord was shining down on you at that moment. Well you know, mostly" Abigail murmurs from her spot. She glances to Megan, seeing if all is clear or if there's any more questions that Lash is meant to answer. Though she flashes the prone blonde a smile. "You're blonde and now I'm the brunette."
The redhead smiles slightly. "You're lucky it wasn't a hell of a lot worse," Megan concurs. "As it stands, you're going to be on a course of high-power antibiotics for the time being. And since you're not going to be in any shape to be walking around for a couple weeks, if all goes well we'll start rehab then." Assuming we're all still here in two weeks and what have you. "Abby'll give you a painkiller to take the edge off, but I don't want to put you entirely under — if you have anything more than the pain level you're experiencing now, I need to know about it. Okay?"
Lashirah snickers. "Yeah. Ashley was blond. Kept anyone from finding me as her. Or it did." She makes a face. "Might as well let it grow back au natrual now." She smiles and nods. "Tell Ryans I pulled through?" She asks simply… then makes an oh sound. "Any chance of me being able to eat real food by Thanksgiving?" She smiles a little. She doesn't like the idea of being a burden.
There's sympathy in her expression and Megan says, "Probably not… but we'll see how you're doing." It's a promise. She jerks her chin at Abby and smiles. "I'll leave you to it. I need to step out for a little while. You know where to find me, Abby." Now that Lashirah's at least awake, she feels all right about leaving.
Lashirah nods thankfully and leans back on the table/bed, half-closing her eyes. She knows she needs to rest to heal. Doesn't mean it will be easy to do. But there you go.