Second Opinion
Posted on 14 Nov 2020 @ 3:53pm by Major Minka Mazur, MD (*)
Mission:
M1 - Emergence
Location: USS Exeter - Sick Bay
Timeline: MD05 1500HRS
2409 words - 4.8 OF Standard Post Measure
Minka drew a deep, pained breath, as she stood at the back of the turbolift, leaned against the back railing of the car and bracing her hands on it for support. All things considered, life was very good right now. Sure, the Starbase was in tatters and things were not fully powered, but the Infirmary was coming along far better than the rest of the station. Her old staff was on site and making that go even faster than before, which gave her a sense of comfort she was sorely missing and on top of all of that, Ptolemy had smuggled himself and their daughter onto the Exeter so that they could be here with her. It was quite possibly the best gift he’d ever given her. So by all rights, her day should have been easy to handle with the prospect of going home to her family after. But that hadn’t been the case.
She’d woken up to some significant back pain, which she immediately wrote off as over-exerting herself in picking up Ada when she’d first seen her and carrying her about more than she should have. Had she told Ptolemy that, he’d have chided her for not listening to him when she knew better as a Doctor herself. So she’d kept that to herself. Minka had suffered through that for most of the morning but just before lunch her back pain had translated into trouble breathing. Trouble that had gotten progressively worse over the course of the afternoon. To the point that she’d excused herself from duty early and had gone straight to the lift saying she was going home. In reality, she was going to the Exeter. She knew Doctor Bolaz as an extremely competent Physician and preferred his care over any other.
She could have scanned herself and diagnosed her issues herself, but in reality that was easier said than done. In addition, it was wholly against every Medical regulation in the book. She was a Starfleet Marine Corps Officer just like any other and when something wasn’t right medically, she needed a Doctor’s care. Since Obsidian Command had no other Doctor’s at the moment, that left her needing to see one of the attending Physicians on the two docked vessels. The only one of those that she knew was Doctor Bolaz, of the Exeter.
Her previous assigned had been Camp Falkirk, a Marine forward operating base, but they had regular visits by Starfleet personnel as they had one of the largest Infirmaries in the sector. That was how she had met Doctor Bolaz, dealing with the fallout of the Jad’Lor incident and the destruction of the de Grasse. She knew him to be a competent Physician, and probably the only Doctor in the Fleet that had a more intimidating reputation than she did. She liked that about him and it was why she’d thought of him straight away when she wanted an unbiased opinion.
The walk from the stations lift and across the docking bay was harder than it should have been and left her out of breath. She hadn’t seen anyone as she was making her crossing, but it was likely she would have brushed off anyone that had seen her huffing along and not let them help her. She was just stubborn like that. When she finally pressed the call button of the Exeter’s turbolift (after clearing their security team) she was all but out of breath. Thankfully the lift came in short order and she climbed in.
“Sick Bay,” she breathed in command, “Possibly… a medical emergency,” she added.
”Please specify,” the computer intoned as the lift thrummed to life, ”Are you having a medical emergency?”.
Minka was forming the words to say ‘No, I’m fine’ when stars began to swim in her eyes and she had to catch herself from falling over, taking a knee instead. She managed a breathless, “Yes,”
A blue ring of light surrounded the turbolift and there was a soft dinging sound she knew to be the code blue alert, sounding both in the lift and in Sick Bay. By the time she got there, they’d be waiting at the lift. She growled with frustration because it was not what she had meant to happen. She would have been fine in her own Infirmary to have an emergency, she was only here to get Doctor Bolaz’ opinion. Now she’d caused a medical emergency and diverted the crew’s resources to dealing with her and all she could think about was the smug look on DeHavilland’s face when she had to explain it to her.
Minka watched the doors to the lift, hoping it could get there a little faster. The stars swimming in her eyes were becoming more significant and she could feel her grip loosening on the railing keeping her upright. She was already working her center of gravity a bit so if she did lose her grip before the lift got there, she’d fall to her back and not forward on her baby. Her breathing was labored now and she knew that moment was coming. She made one last adjustment of her leg and then everything went black.
Her eyelids burned with white light through the skin and she opened them slowly, expecting a brilliantly illuminated space but instead found it a subdued yellowish light. She was on a bio bed in the Exeter’s infirmary, that much was clear, she just didn’t remember how she got there. As she thought about it, she remembered that final moment before everything went black. The lift must have arrived and the medical staff brought her here to treat. She took a deep breath that was much easier than it had been before. Looking to her left, she engaged the controls to make the head of her bed come up so she could sit up slightly. Still, that took a lot of effort, more than it should have.
“You pusssh yourssself too far, Doctor,” a low, brassy voice with a sibilant hiss that hung to the s’s in the statement unnaturally. You could almost hear the growl in the voice, but she knew it to be his softest. His species didn’t lend itself well to warm and cuddly feelings.
Doctor Bolaz emerged from the bay to her right, his large reptilian head lowered as if chastising her silently. The Chief Medical Officer of the Exeter was every bit of three meters tall, close to scraping his head on the ceiling of the Sick Bay as he moved around with only a small bit of space to spare. His large body didn’t make it any easier, nor do the tail that counterbalanced his immense size.
Bolaz was a Pahkwa-thanh, one of the very few in Starfleet but regardless, at least in Minka’s opinion, one of the best Physicians that they had. She’d never met any other of his species but she had read extensively on them as a medical Doctor. Inizec was what their species considered an Alpha, one of the more substantial physical specimens of their kind and one that easily outmatched his peers in size and strength. She knew from her friendship with him though that he’d put that lifestyle on hold to help his people and repay the Federations kindness to the Pahkwa-thanh by serving with them. It hadn’t been easy though; most looked at him (especially humans) and were immediately overwhelmed by an irrational fear. It took quite a bit for most to get over that. It made it only fitting that the ship Captained by a Reman would have an equally as intimidating Chief Medical Officer.
He approached the side of the bed, drawing a tricorder from his coat pocket. Minka knew he wore it to try and disarm his patients from his otherwise menacing appearance but she’d always thought it looked odd on his hulking form.
“How isss your breathing?” He asked. She could feel the rumble in his voice from this distance and it was strangely comforting.
“Still shallow. But better,” she replied.
He nodded, slowly, scanning her with the device, “I am flattered you came to me… but you had a full Infirmary at your disposal. Why come here with your emergency?” He asked, lowering her his head to read the device in his hands.
“I came for a second opinion,” she frowned, “Not the emergency,” she clarified.
“Ah,” he said, stowing the device again. “Opinion on what?”
“I woke up this morning to back pain, significant back pain. I thought I’d just overdone it with Ada. I was excited to see her, so I picked her up and held her a lot last night,” she explained, “And then breathing troubles started around midday and got worse. My first thought was preeclampsia, but I didn’t have any of the other markers. Before I administered any kind of medication, I wanted your opinion.”
Bolaz continued to nod, “It is not preeclampsia,” he declared flatly in a way that brokered no argument.
“… I thought maybe my scans were inconclusive because they were self-administered. You did a full scan?” She asked.
“A full scan, and comprehensive blood work,” she replied, “It is not preeclampsia, or any other Terran complication common to this trimester of your pregnancy,” she explained further.
“Do you have a diagnosis then?” She asked, sitting up a bit, wincing in pain and then relaxing back again.
“Yes,” he answered flatly once more, “Stress,”
She just stared back at him, refusing to believe that. “Irisech, I’m a Marine Corps Doctor. Stress is part of my job, I really don’t th-,”
“You’re also six months pregnant, and thirty percent smaller than the statistical human female wishing to carry their child to term,” he declared sharply, quite possibly the only being in the universe that could cut her off and not fire her up. “Simply put, you are taxing your body beyond its limits. Limits that are compromised by your stress level in addition to your pregnancy,” he explained, “If you do not believe me, you may see the scans yourself,” he declared, moving back a bit to activate the panel on the bulkhead to her right.
All the relevant information came up on the screen from blood panels to brain scans to muscular tension scans. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, he was right. She just wasn’t the kind of person to admit defeat, or admit that the mountain of work she had on her plate was enough to warrant a break. Maybe she was taking on too much. Maybe she could delegate more and limit her activity to situations that absolutely required her expertise. She had the facilities in her office to have patients in there, maybe she needed to do that for the next little while until the baby came.
She stared quietly at the screen for a few minutes letting it all sink in before finally turning to her friend, a pained frown on her face, “How’s the baby?”
“In perfect health,” he replied as brightly as his kind could manage. He offered a smile but with as many sharp teeth as he had it wasn’t quite as reassuring. “Your child is not what you should be worried about,” he said, careful not to say anything about the gender of the child. He’d read in her file that she didn’t wish to know.
“At least there’s that,” she sighed.
“Do I need to order treatment for you, Minka, or can I trust you know what you need to do?” Bolaz asked her, touching her hand reassuringly.
She drew a breath as deep as she could manage, which was well short of normal, just to convince herself that she was indeed suffering from acute stress and anxiety to the point she’d had a panic attack and passed out in the lift. She looked over to him and shook her head.
“There’s no need to make it official,” she replied, “I’ll be limiting my active duties, and confining myself to my office unless absolutely necessary,” she added. “I… would like a mild analgesic if you would’t mind, before I go.”
He nodded and left to go get the hypo, coming back and pressing it to her neck without a word. As he did though, he lowered his head again in what passed for a frown. “I’m afraid I have to file a report… you did cause initiate a medical emergency. If I could, I would keep this between us. But…”
“As much as I don’t want you to, I understand,” she replied, frowning as well but appreciative of the position Bolaz was in. “What time is it?”
“Sixteen-thirty or so,” he replied. “Should I call Ptolemy?”
“No,” she shook her head, “But… would you mind if I… rested here for a little while?” She asked, a slight crack of emotion in her voice. Anyone that knew Minka knew that she didn’t relent, she didn’t back down and she didn’t show weakness. The simple fact she was there broke that all to bits. Not only was it something she didn’t want to admit, it was something she didn’t want anyone else to witness. She knew she couldn’t make it back on her own power at the moment, but maybe in an hour or two, after she’d had a chance to rest, she could. If not. If not, then she’d call Ptolemy.
Bolaz put one hand on her shoulder and with the other he lowered the bed flat again, “How about something to help you sleep?” He asked, producing a second hypo he’d sagely filled when he went for her analgesic, hoping he could convince her to take it. She just nodded and let him give her the injection. He smiled down at her, “Rest well,” he said, and with that he stepped back to pull the curtain around her bio bed. She halfway watched him do it, her eyelids heavy and before he could complete the circuit, all faded to black once more.
