Middleweight Medicine
Posted on 02 Oct 2020 @ 4:54pm by Major Minka Mazur, MD (*)
Mission:
M1 - Emergence
Location: Infirmary
Timeline: MD04 - 1705HRS
2393 words - 4.8 OF Standard Post Measure
It seemed like one of the longest days in recent memory for her. Maybe it was just because there was so much to do and so little in the way to do it with. Minka wasn’t used to spending this long on her feet, pregnant or not, and that particular aspect was making it all the worse. At Falkirk, she’d been able to keep off her feet regularly by relying on her support staff, but that was something she was short on here; meaning she had to do far more than she would typically have to. It certainly wasn’t that she didn’t want to, or wasn’t qualified, she just wasn’t in the physical shape to do it considering she was six months pregnant. Were she her own patient, she would have insisted that she get off her feet during the day under pain of confinement to quarters.
Reluctantly taking her own advice Minka had returned to her office and was settling down onto the couch along the wall, carefully setting her legs up onto the cushions and debating if it was worth the extra effort of trying to slid her shoes off too. She had just set her head back against the corner cushion when the doors to her office hissed open and Petty Officer Lorne stepped through, expecting to see someone at the desk in the office and faltering for a step before he looked to the left and saw Minka on the couch.
“Doctor, sorry to bother you,” Lorne began, “But we have a new patient that just came in with a lower mandible break and a few missing teeth.”
Minka fixed him with a quizzical, ‘what did you say’ glare, “From what, a fist fight?” She asked in disbelief.
Lorne nodded, “Yes, ma’am. Fight with a civilian. Security dropped them both here to be looked at,” he explained.
She sighed, and then moved to get off the couch, waving off Lorne’s polite attempt to give her a hand and got to her feet though with some effort. She took a moment to regain her balance and then gestured for Lorne to led the way as they left her office to return to the main floor of the Infirmary albeit at a slower pace than she was used to or that the Petty Officer was keeping.
Lorne gestured to a man sitting on a bio bed, his back to the Doctor, wearing a tactical vest the sight of which made Minka cock her head to the side curiously. “I wasn’t aware there were any Marines aboard,” she said, stepping around the bed. “Explain what happened here,” she said, now taking the tricorder another Nurse offered her.
“It was nothing. Just an accident,” the Private mumbled in answer. His jaw was clearly not right and even with Minka’s generally unflappable manner, she couldn’t help but cringe a bit.
“Looks like that nothing gave you a mild concussion, broke your jaw in one place and fractured it in another,” she explained, reading the tricorder in front of her. “Upper and lower cuspids as well as upper bicuspid all missing…” she trailed off, reading.
“I have them here, Doctor,” Nurse Lorne said, offering a petri dish with the teeth. He’d already cleaned and prepared them so she could put them back.
“Thank you,” she said absently, still reading. “Lorne, you said the other one was here, the one that did this,” she added, gesturing to the Private. “Broken hand?” She asked.
“No,” he shook his head in answer, “Scratched up hand, but otherwise fine. He’s in one of the isolation suites. MP’s didn’t want them mixing,” he said, himself gesturing to the doorway into the Infirmary where there were now to Marine MP’s standing.
“Did I miss something?” She asked the room at large, “I thought I was the only Marine here. Now we have MP’s?”
“I’m not sure what’s going on, Doctor. Just that these two brought these two in,” Lorne explained as best as he could.
“You, Lance Corporal,” she said, turning to point at one of the MP’s. Explain,” she ordered sharply.
The Marine looked to his counterpart and then turned to open his mouth, but was interrupted by the door opening behind him. Both turned warily towards it as a handful of people walked through the doors. While that might have been concerning any other time, Minka recognized the first of them immediately and couldn’t help but smile.
“What on Earth is going on?” Minka asked, stepping away from the bed to greet her former Chief Nurse.
Staff Sergeant Bailey Wells was a tall, curvy woman with dark brown hair that hung in tight curls but was cut in as close to a bob as someone with her shape of hair could manage. She shook hands with Minka, patting her shoulder.
“Your new Captain didn’t tell you?” She asked, “The majority of the Company is here. MacTaryn sent us to supplement crew until the station could get online and staffed.”
Minka guffawed in disbelief, looking back to Lorne with a smirk and then back to Wells. “Best news I’ve had all day,” she said, gesturing to Lorne, “This is Petty Officer Lorne, OC’s Chief Nurse,” she explained, “You two put your heads together and get this Infirmary operational. Did you bring Gates with you?” She asked.
“Here!” A woman’s voice called from the back of the group coming in. A sandy-haired woman that looked as if she could have bench pressed the bio-bed and still not broke a sweat broke through the crowd, coming forward. “Good to see you, Doctor,” she grinned, joining them.
Minka smiled for the first time since she’d gotten to the station; genuine Cheshire grin. Between Staff Sergeant Wells and Petty Officer Lorne, she knew things would be ship shape in no time and with Hannah Gates, her most trusted assistant at her side, Minka could handle anything that came their way. She knew it. “Help me with this patient so Lorne and Wells can sort out the deck,” she said, gesturing around to the Marine sitting on the bio bed who’d gone mostly ignored in the chaos.
She turned back to the Private, giving him one more scan just to be certain she had all the details correct and then explained it to Hannah, “Apparently a fist fight, though the Corporal has sworn it was just an accident.”
Grace snorted derisively, “I’m sure it was,” she said icily, glaring at the man. She knew him of course, but not because they worked together, because he had a reputation for being blessed with more hormones than brain cells. It happened, usually among the newer Marines and accounted for the high rate of turnover at the lower ranks. Marines that couldn’t use their brains didn’t last long under MacTaryn. There wasn’t room in the Corps for rootin’ tootin’ horn dogs.
“Private… Moorehouse is it?” Minka said, sending the statistics of the patient to the terminal on the bulkhead behind the bio bed. “I’ll need you to lie back. I’m going to fix your jaw, then replace your teeth,” she explained, “Anesthetic please, Ga-,” Minka turned to say, only to see Gates holding a hypo out for her with a smirk. Minka grinned, “Well you can stay,” she said, turning back to Moorehouse and pressing the device to his neck. It activated with a hiss and he let out a sigh of relief. It certainly looked like it hurt and clearly he was just putting on a brave face.
More and more personnel from the 5th were pouring into the Infirmary now and between Lorne and Wells they were being disbursed accordingly elsewhere in the deck. Minka had her attention on Moorehouse but it was hard to ignore so many people moving about, nor the handful of them that suited up in their EVA suits to go into the lower decks. Her procedure with Moorehouse wasn’t easy though, or fast, so she kept on without asking the million and one questions she already had. She even ignored the two MP’s who had abandoned the door and were now on either side of the bio bed.
“I’m almost done, Lance Corporal,” Minka observed as she finished mending the man’s jaw and set the petri dish with his teeth on a tray on his chest. “Open wide,” she declared as Gates moved to the other side of the bed to put the suction device in the man’s mouth so he didn’t choke on his own spit while she put the teeth back in and stimulated their regeneration to fuse back to their roots.
“Mr. Moorehouse is going to need to stay here for a couple of hours at least while we observe this concussion,” Minka said finally, using her tools to grab another tooth and holding that aloft in the device she was using to place them. “You can bring the other one in here, just put them over there, there’s no reason to isolate them. There’s more than enough staff here to keep them apart,” she added, reaching back in to place the next tooth.
“I appreciate that, Major, but it's easier if he stays in isolation. The civilian has a child with him; a toddler,” he explained.
Gates cocked her head as a thought occurred to her and Minka looked up with a swiftly forming scowl turning her features. The list of men (or women) that could have hit Moorehouse so hard, done so much damage and done so little to themselves (or so Lorne said) had to have been short. Stout as Gates was, she doubted she could have done it without major league damage to her hand. Minka’s hand faltered only slightly as she nursed the tooth in place and began the regeneration cycle, no longer leaning over the Corporal’s face.
She looked at Gates, now smirking because she’d worked it out. Minka heaved a deep breath because the odds were high that Gates’ assessment was spot on. This kind of damage was impressive for the layman, but for an expert, it was spot on the mark and she only knew of one expert like that might be anywhere near Falkirk’s Marines. Add that he had a toddler in tow and there was no doubt who it was. None.
Minka put the last tooth in now, purposely waiting until Moorehouse had no means of responding and briefly glanced to the MP, “Do you know why the civilian felt the need to break Corporal Moorehouse’s jaw?”
Moorehouse’s eyes looked to Minka fearfully and then straight back up. “I have no idea,” the MP replied to Moorehouse’s visible relief. “Moorehouse refused to tell us and the civilian, Mr…” he trailed off, looking to his partner behind Minka.
“Cumberland,” the other supplied. Gates snorted quickly and Minka growled with frustration, making Moorehouse flinch in slight pain as she didn’t get that tooth in quite right. She adjusted and then started the regeneration process.
Gates was looking at Minka with a smirk, waiting to see how she reacted. She just held the regenerator in place and sighed, “So you saw the fight, but not the reason for it?” She asked the MP.
“Caught the tail end of it,” he nodded.
“And the concussion? Just the force of the hit, or did he hit something on the way down?” She asked, now adjusting the regenerator now that all the teeth were back in so she could make sure everything was fused properly.
“Bounced off the deck,” the other MP offered, turning Minka’s attention over her shoulder to him.
“Was actually a helluva hit,” the Lance Corporal offered, “I doubt his unit’s going to let him live it down, so I wouldn’t give him too much grief. Getting rag-dolled by a Civilian’s not the best way to get cred in your unit,” she smirked.
“Mmhmm,” Minka nodded, “Especially when that civilian’s a former middleweight champion,” she clarified.
“Yeah?” The Lance Corporal asked, “You know Mr. Cumberland then?”
Doctor Mazur put away the regenerator now and slapped a neural scanner to Moorehouse’s forehead with a tiny bit more force than was really required. Enough to make him flinch in pain. She then looked to Gates, stepping away from the table, “Three hours of observation and then a full cerebral scan. I don’t want him moving around,” she added, heading towards isolation now.
“Aye, Major,” Gates replied, staying with the bed to get the Corporal sorted for the long wait.
“I’d prefer you didn’t go in alone, Doctor,” the Lance Corporal said, quickly moving to follow. “He didn’t exactly come along willingly,” he added.
“I’ll be fine, Corporal,” she waved him off, finding the only occupied isolation room by the light on the terminal along the wall and pressed the button to open the door. “He will be cooperating,” she added with the door wide open, half in conversation with the MP and half in command to the individual inside.
“Mommy!” A voice squealed excitedly as a small, bright-blonde haired girl came bounding across the room and wrapped herself around Doctor Mazur’s leg.
The MP stopped short, blushing awkwardly, “Right. I’ll… just wait over there,” he said, gesturing to a spot down the corridor.
“Good idea,” Minka answered, gently trying to peel her daughter off her leg.
“Come on, popkin, no need to knock mum over,” Ptolemy Cumberland said, hopping off the bio bed and coming over to peel his daughter off his wife’s leg. He hefted her up into his arms but she was automatically reaching out for Minka, who took her from Ptolemy to hold her. She’d have never got her off the ground, but she could handle a handover. “Now, before you start in,” he began.
“I’m just glad you’re here,” Minka smiled sweetly. The hard-nosed disciplinarian that stalked the Infirmary was gone in a flash as she drew her husband to her and held him close, heaving a slow sigh of relief.
