Transfer of Care
Posted on 25 Aug 2023 @ 10:58am by Commander Calliope Zahn & Lieutenant Commander Alwyn Llwyd (*)
Edited on on 06 Feb 2024 @ 10:12pm
Mission:
M4 - Falling Out
Location: Obsidian Command, medical bay
Timeline: m4 D1 afternoon
2430 words - 4.9 OF Standard Post Measure
When she had left aboard the Pathfinder, Calliope had been thankful that Minka had seen fit not to raise an objection over the check ins she would be missing. Although she still mostly checked in with the nursing staff, rather than directly with Minka, Calliope had noticed that she had become less militant about her care. Calliope attributed some of it to her own diligence with her protocols and even the supplemental self healing she’d pursued on her own.
The thing everyone seemed to think somehow was that a Vamiraxil addiction was something like any other addict looking for a fix. She’d stopped trying to explain the addiction aspect of it lately, when she even found the need to talk about it with people she trusted. Trying to explain that it was different in a nuanced way just seemed to her to come across to others as if she were making more excuses, as she had for her ethical misconduct in getting the drug. But Dr. Walker, if no one else, had the compassion to comprehend that it was born out of the anxiety of her unintended effect on others, and from a deeper fear of repeating a disturbing pattern in her adolescence. The shot had become a comfort, like putting on a shirt and thinking yourself decent and ready for going out— Because she herself was the drug.
She was thinking more intently about it now than usual, as she sat in the waiting area in sickbay. In truth over the past couple of weeks , she’d been less and less consumed by the condition or the treatments, with so much more at hand and having rebuilt her strength. Reflecting on that fact she felt sure she was regaining the perspective Walker said she would need to have to work on the situational anxiety- her fear that others wouldn’t be able to control themselves around her, which was clearly not as terrible in reality as it was in her psyche. She was supposed to start trusting others to adjust and manage their own feelings.
She knew there had been real effects in the past couple of weeks. She hadn’t been able to work one-on-one with Ensign Wiser. His fawning around her in some instances drove his ethic to prepare his team, and in others made conversation potentially problematic. She’d told Corvus to guide him. It was probably better for everyone that she had. Then there was Gunnarsen. She wasn’t sure, but she had worried that her pheromones under such high pressure had contributed to the conditions leading to his fainting. Steiner had gone out of his way to take a counter-agent. It made sense that the Marshals had a protocol for men in the field handling situations with cloying Orions, as much as she hated the bald stereotype. But she couldn’t expect that kind of accommodation as the norm.
“Commander?” a nurse interrupted. “Ma’am, I have a biosuite ready for you,” she smiled, waving for her to follow. Beatrice wasn’t sure the details, but she knew enough that whatever Command Zahn was going through required a private suite for her consultation. It wasn’t something quick to be scanned out on the main floor.
“Oh. Okay.” Calliope got up to follow. Most of her check ins had been simple affairs with the nursing staff. But she imagined maybe Mazur wanted to have new scans and labs and make sure nothing had reverted in the time she’d been away. She left behind the main infirmary with its open clinic design and followed to the suite behind it with rows of glossy translucent exam room partitions, able to be transitioned for privacy. The nurse set her up in one and took the essential vitals from the scanner on the exam bed where Calliope had seated herself. Months ago, it was a chore to get up and down from a bed at a fixed height. But she had enough lift in her arms from swimming and weights that she didn’t remember it ever being a strain.
When the nurse left, Calliope exhaled and checked the time. She had the rest of the tour to give to the Korin when their mobility sled was finished. And then her date with Lance.
“Exam room five is ready for you,” Nurse Jackdall smiled politely as the Doctor approached.
“Thank you,” Alwyn replied, knocking thrice on the partition door and then letting himself in. His patient here had no reason to be in a state of undress or distress, but knocking was polite. He stepped through to find a familiar face waiting for him and smiled. “Hello, Commander. Good to see you,” he said, walking to the display screen on one side of the room and activating it before turning back to her. “How are you feeling?”
“Confused,” Calliope said with a tilt of her head. As much as she appreciated Alwyn, and having reached something of a clearer understanding after the series of events he’d set in motion to expose her for the Vamiraxil, she still hadn’t intended to see him as a patient as long as it could be helped. “You’re not Doctor Mazur.”
Alwyn looked blankly back at Calliope, half shaking his head. “Commander…” he began quietly, not sure how she could possibly not know but clearly by her demeanor did not. “You are… aware that Doctor Mazur is not here anymore?”
It always had been something of a special arrangement, Mazur taking on the Medical department for the station when she was part of the Marine detachment and pregnant besides. Not that anyone who pointed it out would have been allowed to live it down. “Did she start her maternity leave early?”
“No, Calliope,” Alwyn replied gently, “Doctor Mazur has died… complications of childbirth,” he explained solemnly. It was never easy to break that news to anyone. While Zahn may not have been family she had gone through a particularly personal struggle. That connected a doctor and patient in ways that weren’t easily quantified. Whether she liked Doctor Mazur or not, they shared a connection. Of sorts.
“Oh.” It took a moment for the idea to even sink in, her expression falling in gradations. While miscarriage was sadly not uncommon, she had never known anyone in modern care to have died in childbirth. She would have thought Mazur, of any woman she knew, to be immune to… anything. Calliope’s thoughts went to her young children and to Ptolemy. “The… the baby too?”
“Doctor Mazur passed away after giving birth by cesarean,” Alwny clarified. “The child is in intensive care at the moment, but all indicators are that he will be fine. If his improvement continues as it has, he’ll be out of the ward within a few days.
Calliope nodded a little numbly. It wasn’t all tragedy. She promised to take a detour past the neonatal viewing window and find out if she could get a glimpse of the baby.
“I’m… sorry to be the one that informs you of this. I would have thought you would have been debriefed on your return,” he added sadly.
“No, I… I’m not on the senior staff.” It occurred to Calliope that if Alwyn was established as the CMO, he had likely been the senior medical officer who would have attended to Minka. “I wasn’t updated on… staff changes.”
“I. Well. Unfortunately those are decisions beyond my control,” Doctor Llwyd sighed, “What I can control, is your care as for the foreseeable future I have been assigned as the acting Chief Medical Officer. And, seeing as I participated in your original care, I’m likely the best suited to continue it,” he said, trying to sound more chipper and less somber. He didn’t know Minka all that well, but she struck him as the type that would have been disappointed to know anyone was moping about over her. Especially a Physician.
Calliope didn’t verbally object, although subconsciously she folded her arms in something of a defensive self-hug.
“If you would prefer, I can send for Doctor Wagner,” Alwyn offered.
Calliope considered for a moment. Dr. Wagner had served well aboard the Pathfinder, and she wouldn’t mind seeing her in general, as she had taken her vitals and talked on the trip. But Alwyn was right, he’d had a part in her case since the day it had all gone south. She knew she could trust him, even if her gut feelings weren’t completely healed about the way in which he’d exposed her situation.
“It’s alright. I just… Mazur had wanted an answer from me on, something about my treatment.” It had seemed already problematic in her mind, but considering what had happened to Minka, the whole thing was freshly loaded.
“What was that?” Alwyn asked, having already consulted the comprehensive notes on this particular patient.
“Before the second stage, I was supposed to… tell her what I felt about the fertility side of the hormone treatments.”
“I see,” he replied gently. “And what are your thoughts?”
“My husband has been avoiding the discussion. I’m going to go ahead and guess… he doesn’t want to become parents. So. I don’t think I need that aspect of the treatment.”
“There are preventative measures to prevent a pregnancy readily available,” Llwyd replied as evenly as he could. It was a hard topic to discuss, really no matter the situation. “But being physically able is something that will become harder and harder to treat the longer you go without treatment,” he explained patiently. “In other words. It would be better for your overall well being to address the fertility aspects while simultaneously preventing unwanted pregnancies. Left the other way around may close the door on that option forever.”
Calliope nodded. She understood and had practiced all of that. But it was the first time she’d ever heard anyone advocate that she might want to become a mother. Besides her own mother. “I don’t think he’s ever going to choose to be a father.” Calliope said, more about her husband than herself. “I think it might change him if he did. His family… they’re old money on earth. They want him to have heirs to the titles.” She turned her rings, sliding them back and forth over her knuckle, looking down at the old heirloom Lance had gotten from his begrudging family for the proposal. “Just not with me so much. I guess…. I guess I knew all of that going in. But I was twenty-something. I didn’t… care then.”
“Respectfully, Calliope. The question wasn’t what your husband would want,” he replied simply and calmly. “The question is what do you want for your own well-being.”
Calliope bit her lip. The set of possible futures between her and Lance was narrowing. She knew she couldn’t live with him sacrificing his calling and trailing her around the fleet. And if he took up his old job opening, either they’d move back to Sol together, or they would try to carry on as they always had, long distance. Then there was the dimmest outlook for the marriage, a road that she kept trying not to look too far down. Now she found herself looking directly at the two pronged path running separate ways into the dark unknown.
“I think… I think I’d like to keep my options open.”
Alwyn smiled patiently back. He always enjoyed seeing people making sound decisions based on their wants and needs, not those of others. He wasn’t a counselor by any means but he liked to think he wouldn’t have done so poorly at it.
“The second round— It’s not going to knock me on my ass again? I mean, I still have the triathlon I’ve been training for.”
“It packs less of a wallop as you progress,” Alwyn nodded. “But if you’re serious about this triathlon, you should find a qualified physician to assist you with your training. Maybe that can apply the odd hypo here and there, as effects pop up,” He smirked playfully.
“Better pack some analgesic for your old knees, while you’re at it. Send me your running schedule. I’m booked today giving tours, but I can probably meet with you tomorrow on the track.”
“Good. That will give you the afternoon to deal with the after-effects of today’s treatment,” Alwyn agreed. “I’ll schedule your treatments around our running schedule to give you some extra time to get used to things,” he smiled, now turning to the equipment that the nurses had already laid out for him. He’d taken the liberty of assuming Calliope would make the call he was hoping she would. “So we’re going to start with a hormonal boost. These aren’t the good ones though,” he warned, “This may cause emotional outbursts for the next few hours. The ‘I’m thirteen and the boy I liked doesn’t like me’ kind of emotional outbursts,” he smirked. “Probably best not to make any life altering decisions between now and dinner time.”
“Oh, well, after dinner then.” She sighed, leaning back and settling. “Lance has some big evening plans for us. I’ll try to keep it together until then.”
“I could be wrong,” He said, approaching with the hypo. He pointed to his hip and gestured at her so she could move accordingly to let him give her the dose. “But better to be warned then suddenly burst into tears for no reason,” he said, administering the dose with a pop-hiss from his device. “What’s for dinner?” he asked.
“Fancy fare.” Calliope had her thumb hitched into her waistband and rubbed the hypo site. They were always cold, she felt. “Lance has a reservation at the Grotto. I think he’s sick of hitting up replimats, diners, and food carts with me.”
“You’ll have to tell me how it is. It’s too fancy for me to fly solo. But, I managed to convince my wife to take a two week leave to come and stay with me here. I’m going to need to knock her off her socks. Show her what life here is really like,” he smiled. “Hopefully this play is the one to do it? You’ll have to report back on that.”
“I’ll take notes.”
