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 Posted: Fri Aug 08, 2008 12:34 pm
However, she wasn't looking for how clean the cut was, but how the skin and muscle was reacting to it. Sure there was some clotted blood (which was good for him in terms that it kept him from bleeding out), but there were also areas that weren't taking the lack of blood very well. Which of course earned a small frown again.
"I'm going to have to cut off some smaller areas.. but afterwards I'll be able to fix the bloodflow to your arm so it doesn't deteriorate, then seal off the area with what skin you have left to prevent infection."
Big words, big words.
"Pretty much, you have very little I need to do for you. You're lucky that the flesh is in good condition. You'll just have to go without some muscle. But you're pretty young and you'll heal up well."
It was a small consolation for him, though she was unaware that his earlier wincing was for the same reason she'd mentioned before with how some of her 'patients' treated her racially.
"Would you like me to just do it now, or would you like more rest first?"
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Posted: Fri Aug 08, 2008 1:04 pm
Big words indeed, and it was practically a small miracle that the hazy-eyed boy had grasped any of it... let alone worked up the strength and gall to respond in a (sort of) timely manner, biting back a dull groan when the mangled stump he'd once called an arm throbbed again with more pain than he'd let on.
s**t, it hurt. It hurt like hell. It hurt worse than he could remember from when she'd done that first tourniquet patch-up on the ship, UGH.
... But at the same time, it wasn't really going to be made any better with 'more rest', either-- and he knew that too. For as much as he wanted desperately NOT to handle that suffering... there was no point in delaying it, huh.
"... S'fine." The default response by now, albeit a little more... strained than previously, still forcing his eyes to stay on the ceiling and NOT see his own pathetic state. "... Just... get it over with... S'pointless to stall... right?..."
All he had to do was make it until the stupid thing was actually stitched up and then it would just get better, right? Right?
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Posted: Fri Aug 08, 2008 1:12 pm
Solomon rose when he answered, moving to the flap of their tent and quickly drawing it shut and tying it from the inside to keep his screams from summoning too much attention.
She was -positive- he'd emit some noise that would not be pleasant to the ears of those who weren't desensitized to them.
Her first 'order' was to use the clean washrag to dap at the area she was getting ready to work on, reopening some of the clotted areas, though with a special gentleness to prevent as much pain on the boy's part as possible, as well as wiping down the surrounding skin.
Which, following this she again went through her bag just to produce a thick swatch of rather nice looking leather, offering it to the boy.
"You are going to -HAVE- to keep this between your teeth. It'll prevent you from biting off your tongue." she warned, giving him a moment to follow her direction, before she picked up her nicely cleaned up kitchen knife...
"Starting."
It was a flat warning that came too seconds later with probably the LEAST pleasant feeling in the world:
Solomon digging the very edge of it into the first piece of 'dead' muscle. Dead muscle didn't feel anything, but OH the muscle around it would.
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Posted: Fri Aug 08, 2008 1:53 pm
... Oh, she was closing the tent flaps, lovely-- probably trying to muffle the inevitable SHRIEKING of the primitive surgery's little victim, who was trying to hide his increasing dread when he was given a piece of leather and told that it would prevent him from biting his TONGUE OFF which sounded absolutely HORRIFYING AND--
Yeah, better to choke on the scrap and just pray she was saying it as a safety precaution, and that this wouldn't be so bad, really, and that he could avoid the horrible screaming and crying and other things that seemed to happen when even fully grown men were put under the knife.
... Ha. Ha ha HA. Yeah right.
No, the dead muscle didn't feel it, but every living cell around the blade edge SURE made up for that by JOYOUS, EXPONENTIAL leaps and bounds. At least that Koshka swordsman had been nice enough to cleave his arm off in a split second, but this was slow and meticulous and dragged out and god dammit now he finally understood what the leather was about because he probably would've broken his TEETH by now otherwise.
... But he didn't scream. His eyes were screwed shut (probably tearing up), every muscle in him was stiff as a board and he was choking back a pathetic whimper and shuddering, but... no outright shrieks or thrashing, which was... convenient, at the very least?
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Posted: Fri Aug 08, 2008 1:59 pm
She took a moment's pause to let him rest, shoving the small pieces she'd been cutting off onto her washrag she'd used to clean up his arm, using her clean hand to pat the boy on the head.
"You're doing extremely well. Thank you for holding still." she praised. "Most full grown men require me to have someone hold them down."
Praise praise, dote.
However, that break only lasted a minute before she resumed her work, carefully shaving off the rest of the dead muscle (and a bit of the inside later of skin, sadly) until she paused, finally setting the knife down and moving on to her -funner- toy.
The needle and thread.
Of course, it probably felt -years- better to have her simply sewing up the muscles so she could complete the circulation in his arm which had been ruined by the significant -lack- of his arm, followed by the skin which, with her trimming, out-sized the muscle on his arm.
Which allowed her to stitch off the exposure -quite- easily. Oh how sad the arm looked, however. All stubby and red from the irritation of having her fix it up. But now it wouldn't need bandaging on a daily basis. That didn't keep her from wrapping it right back up, though.
"How're you feeling?"
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Posted: Fri Aug 08, 2008 2:46 pm
Oh please, please please PLEASE just let it be over quickly he felt like he was ready to just give up and DIE IT HURT SO DAMN BAD--
It was all Everett could do near the end of the procedure to clamp down and hold his breath altogether for fear of screaming out loud, shaking from head to toe but stubbornly refusing to give in. He'd already gone white as a sheet and he couldn't stop trembling but... he had to hold still and be quiet or it would take even longer and he couldn't STAND and more of it!
... But the immediate agony of having his flesh stripped off finally stopped, and when it did, he let out a hacking, wheezy breath of... not quite relief, and was more or less a quivery puddle of sick by the time she'd finished one-- if not a silent one.
'How was he feeling', then? Oh, that was easy.
He felt like s**t. He felt like he could easily pass out or vomit or both (in no particular order), gasping miserably for breath a few seconds with guilty tears in the corners of his eyes before squeaking a... very tight answer.
"... M'f... fine. J... Just..." HackwheezegaspSHUDDERpleasedon'tthrowupstomach. "... F-Fine."
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Posted: Fri Aug 08, 2008 2:58 pm
Solomon smiled at his very forced (she could -so- tell he was playing tough) answer, smoothing a hand over his forehead gingerly. "Well you did -extremely- well. I'm proud." she purred.
Which she followed with a nice clean up. Which consisted of, first of all, tying up her washrag with his FLESH in it (as she was sure he didn't need to see more of himself detached from his body) and tossing it away into the bin she carried for other various things (mostly used bandaging and the like she'd be burning later), then retrieving another (HOW MANY OF THESE THINGS DID SHE HAVE?) to go back to the bin of water, along with the knife, to clean it again.
Somehow she felt the men at the camp wouldn't want it back.
But once that was done, she came back with the rag to carefully wipe down Everett's face again. Oh he looked so pale.
Carefully she again offered him the tray. "Eat some more. It'll help you recover your strength. You'll need it if you'll be staying here."
That was right...... she wasn't keeping him. Huh, why did that make her a little sad?
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Posted: Fri Aug 08, 2008 3:50 pm
Well, it was playing tough or breaking down in a fit of hysterics, which would've really only made the pain WORSE than it already was and Everett didn't want to suffer under ANY circumstances. God only knew he'd had enough of that to last him a good few weeks now, at the very least...
He felt like he really HAD melted on top of the cot, every muscle so spent from exhaustion and tension that they'd all just up and turned to a quivering pile of jello under his skin. Apparently his skin was pretty slick, too, which he only realized when she ran her hand across his forehead and wiped his face off (it was a blessing he hadn't seen her dispose of his... butchered arm parts in between).
And... she'd said she was proud, too. That was actually a vague... comfort sort of, thought he wasn't quite sure how. He'd blame that on delirium.
"But the thought of food was NOT comforting AT ALL at the moment, and if he was possible for the kid to turn any whiter than he already was at the sight of it... yeah, he did. Plus a bit of queer looking green.
"P-Please, no..." Oh, was he even using 'please' and 'thanks' now? Quite a step from the screeching on the ship, but...
"A... Are you... leaving?"
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Posted: Fri Aug 08, 2008 4:02 pm
Solomon took his 'no' with good stride, at least setting the tray back up where he could get to it when he was feeling better, then standing to again pack up her little medical kit, though not her bag.
That at least said if she went out she wouldn't be going too far.
"Leaving? Well, I'm a Koshka. Not everybody outside will be pleased to keep me here forever, doctor or not." she explained, "but I have plans to stay here for at least the week. So I'll be able to check up on you and make sure you're alright before I leave."
Afterall, her patient or not, she'd gotten a face-full of his dislike for Koshka's until she'd stunned him into silence. So while he was compliant now, she couldn't exactly stay and dote on him forever.
"That's when their permanent doctor should arrive to take over my work. I met him once, brilliant older man. Mench too." The 'Mench too' seemed to be what she was really hitting on.
"But for now, I'll have to do what I can. So you rest up. I'm going back to do my rounds on the less agreeable patients." she bid, placing a hand on his shoulder gingerly in an attempt to push him back down to sleep, before making another exit from the tent.
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Posted: Fri Aug 08, 2008 4:51 pm
... 'Mensch too'.
Everett didn't know why those were the words that stuck out at him like a cactus needle right through the thumb (or the stump), and had he possessed the strength to spare for it, he might've even cringed in response, but... why?
After all, he hated Koshka too, didn't he? They were... 'dirty fleabags' and 'no good little shits' and '******** murderous animals' that stormed through neutral settlements to slit throats and pilfer loot and violate women and then burn everything to the ground once they'd finished with people still alive inside...
He was confused and exhausted; the exhaustion... just showed a little more right then, frowning weakly when she left and all he could do was... watch her back disappearing from the corner of his blurred vision.
And again with the questions, like... 'what now?' for example.
... s**t, if only he could've stayed awake long enough to find out the answer-- but it wasn't in the cards, apparently, because his body had already decided that no, it was a good time to pass out for the evening now, and it wasn't listening to him anymore.
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Posted: Fri Aug 08, 2008 5:01 pm
She watched as exhaustion took over the little boy, stroking a hand over his hair fondly. Lord, he was so cute when his face wasn't all scrunched up in pain. It was a very sad thing, really.
But she knew better to stay near someone who'd be wanting her gone when they were well and recovered and amongst their own.
Solomon took a moment to lay the blanket out over the child to keep him from getting too cold, as it was still a tad chilly in the tent, before she turned, picking her little bag of doctorly tricks and untying the flap, making her escape out into the encampment without further disturbing her little patient.
Which, fortunately, it was too cold outside for the others of the encampment to yell for her when she was needed, allowing for quiet movement...
Far into the night.
Even when, many hours later, the doctor came back, looking rather tired, a tad ruffled, but overall she was content to collapse in her chair, allowing her temporary ward to sleep away the night in the cot by her side.
'What an adorable child. Just like a puppy.'
.::END::.
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