Sleep Deprived
Posted on 04 Sep 2023 @ 7:52pm by Ensign Marcello Wiser & Lieutenant Commander Alwyn Llwyd (*) & Loukianos Melanthio MD-Ph.D
Edited on on 22 Apr 2024 @ 8:50pm
Mission:
M4 - Falling Out
Location: Obsidian Command, medical bay
Timeline: M4 D2 Evening
2063 words - 4.1 OF Standard Post Measure
It was probably a good thing that his wife wasn’t on station, if she were, she might be quite cross at his lack of time at home of late. Since the return of the Pathfinder, Doctor Llwyd had found himself eyeball deep in patients in addition to the regular rotation of patients that came from a station that was effectively a city floating in space. He had critical patients, patients with recent major surgery, others on the mend, a budding outbreak of the Tarkellian Flu, six broken arms from a game of hoverball that went bad and a partridge in a pear tree. All the things you’d expect to have in a Hospital in any major city in the Federation. Except that they were free floating in space, in relatively hostile territory.
Alwyn knew he couldn’t push himself too much farther. There was only so much that caffeine and a zeal to help could really do. The human body simply needed rest to rejuvenate and operate at peak efficiency. He knew that the longer he went, the higher the likelihood that he would start making simple, stupid mistakes. Now that he was nearing his fifteenth hour on shift, he knew he should really start winding it down and handing off the work to the next attending Physician or to one of the Nurses until a Physician was needed.
This wasn’t 20th century medicine. Doctors in Starfleet were highly trained and there really was no replacement for them, but the nursing corps that supported them were also extensively trained. They might not have been able to manage major surgery, but they were an invaluable part of any Infirmary or Sick Bay and could be trusted with the run of it should the Physician’s be unavailable or incapacitated.
“No, I demand to to speak with the CMO- The person operating this Infirmary!” An Ensign was pushing his way past the nurses station, looking around for signage for the leading physician. “I want answers!”
“Somebody, call security—”
Standing by the far bio bed with Nurse Wellby, Doctor Llwyd watched the Ensign pushing through with clinical detachment, or maybe it was complete exhaustion, the line between the two was very thin at the moment. He blew out slowly. “Put an isolation field around him. Hem him in,” he ordered to Wellby tiredly.
“Right,” she nodded, moving to the console on the wall. She went quickly about it as Llwyd watched then Ensign march angrily down the infirmary, Nurses calling after him, before slamming face first into a forcefield and then staggering backwards into the one that had come to life behind him, enveloping him where he stood.
The young man turned about in a circle, glaring at everyone he could make eye contact with. “This is uncalled for!”
Rubbing at his temple, Doctor Llwyd walked calmly towards the makeshift cell and sighed again, “What exactly is it you're looking to accomplish here?” he asked.
“I want to speak with the Chief Medical Officer. I’m not waiting for an appointment.” His eyes were red, and he looked disheveled. He’d already been sent away on three other occasions.
Wiping his eyes with exhaustion and frustration Alwyn shrugged, “What is it you want to speak with me about? Keep in mind, you probably have less than two minutes before Security gets here,” he replied.
The Ensign swallowed, somewhat self-conscious of what he must look like. “It’s Ensign Jup, Sir. I can’t get his status. No one will let me see him since they transferred him from the Pathfinder. I don’t have clearance. You have clearance. Is he going to be okay?”
Alwyn scratched the side of his head, “You’re risking charges and reprimand to get the status of a fellow officer?” he asked, hardly believing the question. “As… opposed to asking your commanding officer for that information? Or Ensign Jup’s?”
“I’ve been asking. All the official channels. Everyone’s tied up with more important things.” He was choked up. “No one cares. No one cares what happens to Jup.” Even Saaba and Tilmer had told him to back off and that had just riled him up worse. They hadn’t been there. They hadn’t seen half of Jup’s face melted off. “I got him back, I got him to the ship, to the Pathfinder, he was critical. He was in stasis. They said maybe something could be done on the station. I gotta know. Please.” He hadn’t slept in a week, and he looked it.
Llwyd stared impassively back at the man then casually reached for his tricorder and began to scan him through the restraining field. He arched an eyebrow curiously as he read the readings, sharing them with Nurse Wellby who had joined him warily.
“...oh,” she weighed in. “Should I?” she asked. Alwyn nodded and so she turned and walked back to the terminal she’d been working at before.
However, as predicted, Security was running into the Infirmary in force - six of them in total. They spotted the trouble and came immediately towards the contained officer.
“Gentlemen. Lady,” Doctor Llwyd waved to security as they approached, “Thank you for coming so quickly, but the situation has changed slightly. If you’ll bear with me a moment,” he said, turning back to the man in the glass. “Ensign Wiser. When was the last time you slept?” he asked, realizing the hypocrisy of the question the moment it left his lips. He could see clearly the answer had to be ‘for quite some time’ based on his readings, but he had to ask anyway.
The question made his lip curl. Why were they asking about him? “I don’t know, whenever,” he said impatiently. He’d been to his quarters, he’d laid down fitfully. He’d lost track of time.
“You’re exhausted, Mr. Wiser. Clinically, that is,” Llwyd said, gesturing to the tricorder. “So what’s happening now, this,” he said, gesturing to the containment field he was in. “Is the result of that exhaustion taking hold. You’re not making rational decisions,” he explained evenly, his normal gentle bedside manner combined with his own exhaustion resulting in him talking slowly and almost in a whisper. “And you won’t until you can rest.”
A new man came trotting into the Infirmary now, turning three of the security towards him and he raised his hands, “Whoa, whoa!” Doctor Melanthio reacted warily.
“He’s with me,” Llwyd called out, waving the man over.
“Thank you,” Doctor Melanthio said, hurrying over to Llwyd, observing the man in the box. “Was he violent?” he asked Alwyn as he came over and accepted the tricorder her offered.
“What?” Wiser was frustrated by what felt to him like bizarre responses. And now another Doctor. “Are you Jup’s doctor?”
“No, I’m Doctor Melanthio,” the new man said distractedly, reading the tricorder once more. “I believe you have read my name before? I have inquired with you a few times as to an appointment,” he smiled patiently. “I think, perhaps, it’s no longer a matter of arranging something that suits your schedule,” he explained.
Wiser quieted, but scowled. It seemed he wasn’t going to get his question answered this time either.
“Now. If Doctor Llwyd concurs, we can forget this little incident here if you will accompany me back to my office. Perhaps you would be willing to provide a light sleep aide for Mr. Wiser this evening?” he added, looking to Doctor Alwyn.
He nodded, looking to Wellby and muttering a quick order. She went to make the hypo.
“Of course, if you’d rather, you can go with these fine officers,” Melanthio continued, gesturing to the security personnel. “I will leave the choice up to you.”
“It isn’t much of a choice.” Wiser’s shoulders settled. “It’s not me that needs help, doc.” He looked around at all the staff beyond the field. Somewhere else there had to be more of them, attending to Jup. There had to be.
“I beg to differ,” Melanthio smiled patiently. “Let’s discuss this elsewhere, though. This is hardly a space conducive for therapy,” he said, gesturing the way he’d come from. “Come back to my office. We will have a few words, perhaps a cup of tea, and then if necessary I will help you sleep,” he said taking the hypo Llwyd had offered him. “When you return to my office tomorrow morning, to report on your good nights sleep, and continue our conversations, I will be happy to share with you whatever information you came here to discover. But only if you take your therapy seriously. Only if you do your part,” he offered calmly.
Doctor Llwyd just looked on impassively, waiting to see how this worked out. Naturally he could have given the young man a full rundown on how Jup was doing but that wasn’t how this worked. Technically, he shouldn’t be giving out medical information like that to anyone, but in dire instances like these he could be convinced to let a little bit out to appease the family and friends. Of course he’d had instances like this in the past many times over, he just never had the tools he had here to contain them. He’d dealt with angry spouses, loved ones, even enemy combatants in a field hospital trying to off one another in their beds. Compared to his experience, this was like minding preschoolers. But still. Even a hapless Ensign could cause a lot of damage. To others or to himself.
Overtired though he was, the logic still didn’t stack up to Wiser. He paced his cell a couple of times. They could tell him what he wanted to know and then he wouldn’t feel so… helpless, angry. The whole thing to his mind was the fault of the system in the first place. And now they were going to make him jump through hoops, pretending they’d talk to him later. Spitefully he wanted to tell them he’d take the overnight in the brig. But he knew that wasn’t going to make a whit of difference to any doctors’ egos. “Whatever, fine,” he said to Melanthio.
“Very well,” Melanthio said, now turning to the lead Security officer. “Lieutenant. I appreciate your team being here so promptly. But as you have seen, Ensign Wiser has agreed to come with me. I am certain that he understands his continued tenure in Starfleet and the dismissal of any charges this may have brought forth depends on his willingness to submit to any medical therapies myself and Doctor Llwyd deem necessary,” he said, talking both to the security officer and of course to Wiser right behind him.
The tall, tanned skin man eyed the man in the glass and then the Doctor and sighed. “Alright, Doc. But me and O’Shea will escort you to your office. Just in case.”
“Fair enough,” Melanthio nodded, turning back to Wiser. “Are you ready, Mr. Wiser?”
The infantile treatment was burning him up. He held back a sarcastic remark about needing to get his hat first and instead stared daggers at this Doc. He didn’t even carry a fleet rank. Station civilian personnel. “I’m ready.”
“Anything else, Alwyn?” Melanthio asked.
“No,” Llwyd replied, waving for Wellby to go on and deactivate the cage holding the young man in.
Doctor Melanthio gestured to the door, “This way.”
Ensign Wiser straightened the hem of his jacket as if it could do anything for his dignity as he followed Melanthio, aware of the flanking security officers, but not looking directly at either. Saaba’s words to him earlier to calm down before she had to put him in an armlock and make him chill were no longer informal admonishments from a friend. And heaven help him when Max found out about this.
They were keeping Jup’s condition quiet for some reason, he just knew it. There wasn’t anyone wearing senior pips who didn’t close them out on the lower decks. And now he had yet another power charade to contend with. “Let’s get this over with,” he muttered to himself.
