GBOS: The Hurt Locker
Apr. 22nd, 2010 11:50 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsHank and Laurie join in the fight to save as many of the injured as possible.
Doctor Jane Watts was ageless. Her raw, wind burned and gaunt features looked the same as they had three years prior in her clinic in Afghanistan. Save for a little more gray in her sun bleached brown hair, she could have simply stepped from 2007 into now. The lines of weariness around her eyes were also no different, and she waved them inside one of the few UN hospital tents. "As you can see, Dr. McCoy, we've been a little overwhelmed. If you'd like to join the line, our scrub facilities are over there." She pointed, before heading to her own end of the operating room to prepare for her own shift in surgery.
Hank frowned, his initial disagreements with Charles sending both the team and the New Mutants over to this war-torn region quickly dissolving as he took stock of the situation around the camp. The triage center was as clean as it could be for being in the middle of a war zone, which impressed the blue doctor to no end. "If you don't mind, I'll be asking my intern to assist with whatever operations I'll be performing," he stated as fact rather than question as he moved toward the mobile sink.
Laurie felt fidgety, her memories of a place much like this coming back to haunt her as she followed Dr. McCoy to the sink to wash her hands, before helping him into gloves and doctors scrubs. She had her own, the Hank in turned helped her with and then they were ready for their first patient of the day.
She wondered just how bad the injuries would be, and whether they would have to chose between those they could help, and those they could merely make comfortable.
It was two badly crushed legs. The interpreter explained that the woman had been sleeping when the earthquake hit, and part of her wall had collapsed in on her. They had been quickly bandaged, but in moving her, the bones were shifted under the skin, out of position, and telltale streaks of red on her skin hinted that septicemia had set in.
With a quick moment in which he mentally readied himself, Hank put on his surgical mask, "Do we have an anesthesiologist here?!" the doctor bellowed out across the tent. Turning to Laurie, "Her bones are crushed, how would you proceed?" It was possibly the most inappropriate time for a quiz, but he needed to keep her mind to task and the first time in a battlefield hospital could make that a difficult job.
"Amputation," Laurie noted, calculating the time they had for surgery, the extent of the injury and the fact that sepsis had already sent in. "And then a course of broad spectrum intravenous anti-biotics."
The anesthesiologist approached them and waited for instructions, "We're going to have to remove both legs from the articilatio genus down by the looks of it. Very good call," Hank nodded and made room for the doctor who would administer something for the pain. "General anesthesia, enough to put her out, we'll probably need to be conservative in our dosing- which I'd rather not do, but we are in a war zone." He looked to his young protégé, "Are you ready for this?"
"Never," Laurie answered honestly, but she straightened her shoulders anyhow and got ready to assist. "But that doesn't matter, let's just do this."
Hank steadied himself and picked up a scalpel once the woman was properly sedated. There would likely be many more amputations done today, many more lived irrevocably changed forever. Making a mental note to invent cheep and affordable robotic limbs when he was finished with this war, the blue doc made his first incision, cutting just below the knee. "Alright, let's proceed," he paused and looked around, then continued, sounding a bit dejected, "we've got a long day ahead of us."
Doctor Jane Watts was ageless. Her raw, wind burned and gaunt features looked the same as they had three years prior in her clinic in Afghanistan. Save for a little more gray in her sun bleached brown hair, she could have simply stepped from 2007 into now. The lines of weariness around her eyes were also no different, and she waved them inside one of the few UN hospital tents. "As you can see, Dr. McCoy, we've been a little overwhelmed. If you'd like to join the line, our scrub facilities are over there." She pointed, before heading to her own end of the operating room to prepare for her own shift in surgery.
Hank frowned, his initial disagreements with Charles sending both the team and the New Mutants over to this war-torn region quickly dissolving as he took stock of the situation around the camp. The triage center was as clean as it could be for being in the middle of a war zone, which impressed the blue doctor to no end. "If you don't mind, I'll be asking my intern to assist with whatever operations I'll be performing," he stated as fact rather than question as he moved toward the mobile sink.
Laurie felt fidgety, her memories of a place much like this coming back to haunt her as she followed Dr. McCoy to the sink to wash her hands, before helping him into gloves and doctors scrubs. She had her own, the Hank in turned helped her with and then they were ready for their first patient of the day.
She wondered just how bad the injuries would be, and whether they would have to chose between those they could help, and those they could merely make comfortable.
It was two badly crushed legs. The interpreter explained that the woman had been sleeping when the earthquake hit, and part of her wall had collapsed in on her. They had been quickly bandaged, but in moving her, the bones were shifted under the skin, out of position, and telltale streaks of red on her skin hinted that septicemia had set in.
With a quick moment in which he mentally readied himself, Hank put on his surgical mask, "Do we have an anesthesiologist here?!" the doctor bellowed out across the tent. Turning to Laurie, "Her bones are crushed, how would you proceed?" It was possibly the most inappropriate time for a quiz, but he needed to keep her mind to task and the first time in a battlefield hospital could make that a difficult job.
"Amputation," Laurie noted, calculating the time they had for surgery, the extent of the injury and the fact that sepsis had already sent in. "And then a course of broad spectrum intravenous anti-biotics."
The anesthesiologist approached them and waited for instructions, "We're going to have to remove both legs from the articilatio genus down by the looks of it. Very good call," Hank nodded and made room for the doctor who would administer something for the pain. "General anesthesia, enough to put her out, we'll probably need to be conservative in our dosing- which I'd rather not do, but we are in a war zone." He looked to his young protégé, "Are you ready for this?"
"Never," Laurie answered honestly, but she straightened her shoulders anyhow and got ready to assist. "But that doesn't matter, let's just do this."
Hank steadied himself and picked up a scalpel once the woman was properly sedated. There would likely be many more amputations done today, many more lived irrevocably changed forever. Making a mental note to invent cheep and affordable robotic limbs when he was finished with this war, the blue doc made his first incision, cutting just below the knee. "Alright, let's proceed," he paused and looked around, then continued, sounding a bit dejected, "we've got a long day ahead of us."
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