Repairing Gill's Calf (Day 2 - Morning)

OOC: Part 2 of a Joint Post from Turk, Largehobbit, Wandering Wolf, and Sail

Lyen swallowed, her mask bobbing. “Thank you Dorian,” she began, stepping up to the scan of Gill’s leg. She felt very much like a jackrabbit caught outside its hole, with all those faces staring back at her. Breathing a silent prayer for her own anxiety, Ly cleared her throat.

“The patient is a fifteen year old male who suffered an animal bite to his right leg, specifically his calf. We operated immediately in order to clean the wound. There was a considerable amount of badly torn or dying tissue, which I removed to create a clean edge.” Lyen reached out to the holographic image, attempting to wrangle it as Dorian had. It was no ‘three-D’ scan but rather an image of Gill’s leg post-op. The capture responded, turning easily in her hand, highlighting the circumference of the wound. “We then moved deeper, into the muscle where Yeva removed unhealthy tissue and I followed behind resetting the healthy tissue. Finally, after Dorian placed the Biomesh, I bonded it to the site. We finished by applying Rheumone evenly to the surface, to speed up the tissue recovery.”

She smiled beneath her mask as the details came easily from memory. “Afterwards, we continued to reapply the Rheumone for seven days while keeping the patient’s leg elevated.” Ly took a step backward, beckoning toward the hospital’s dermatologist, “Doctor Tenshi, I believe you will be taking it from here.”

Tenshi replied, “Thank you Miss Giu. Now, Mr. Gill, I understand this may be uncomfortable, but I assure you we’ll take good care of you afterward.” Gill lay on his stomach and grunted in reply, to which Dr. Tenshi simply nodded and stepped into the surgical field. He spoke now to the members of the theater, “I’ll be applying a hypoallergenic tissue graft to the corium layer. There it will bond and heal alongside the patient’s natural epidermis without risk of rejection.” His hands accepted a pair of graspers from his assistant with which he transported the skin graft into the field. A pair of needle drivers were next to anchor the graft into place on one side, then to pivot the rest into position. “Now the hard work is finished,” he announced, eyeing the onlookers with a grin. His assistant replaced his tool with a bonder and he made easy work of adhering the graph to the surrounding tissue.

Tenshi set his tools aside and leaned forward over the sterile field. The graft had melted into shape perfectly, but the surgeon was waiting for the telltale sign of a graft gone well. “Now, Sister Gui,” he called, still craned over Gill’s leg. “Would you be so kind as to tell us what one would expect from a successful graft?”

Lyen, cocked her head to Dorian, eyebrows in a wide arch, but the words came on their own, “Well, we’d want to make sure blood flow is restored to the area--to the new tissue placed over the wound.”

“Just so,” Tenshi reclined from the table as the monitors depicted a growing pinkness that spread throughout the graft in growing speed. A wave of murmurs swept the theater above, as students and clinicians nodded to each other. Tenshi pivoted to nod to Lyen, mirth visible in the creases around his eyes. “Thank you for your astute observations, and for a quick answer to my pop quiz.” Subtle laughter echoed in the wings as Lyen nodded back to Tenshi and to the theater.

“That...went...well!” Dorian peeled his mask off before delivering a grateful hug to the nun. Both Roose and Gill had been wheeled back into the recovery room. As Adler and Giu hovered, the nursing staff cared for each with the crisp professionalism of a modern day medical team.

“Mistah Gill,” Dorian proclaimed, “yah a free man, now. Yah’ll walk outta here. If yah know what’s good fah yah, Ah suggest yah walk right up tah Miss Serena an’ ask her out on a date.”

“A date?” Gill flushed that familiar beetroot red that adorned his features every time the girl was mentioned. Especially since their recent midnight liaison.

“A date,” the medic stifled a chuckle. “Ah’m certain all tha women on board would offah sage advice on how tah do that.”

“The medic stopped at Roose’s bed. “Sistah Lyen will see yah back tah tha boat. Tahnight Ah’ll have a special reserve bourbon, an’ Ah’ll be lookin’ fah someone tah have a drink an’ swap some stories. Sound like somethin’ yah might conjure doin’?”

Roose had a smile grow on his face faster than anything in a while. He didn't know if it was the clean soft sheets or the lack of pain he currently felt, but the offer of some fine bourbon certainly improved his mood. "Well I could give it my best, no promises on you getring much of a drink when I'm through though." He joked (only partly).

With their patients close to official release, Lyen and Dorian stripped out of their surgical garb. “Sistah,” the medic said as he pitched his scrubs into the bin, “could yah see them both back onboard? Ah’ve got a couple errands tah run.”

Her gaze leveled with his, returning a grin which had held since they’d left the OR. “Of course, we’ll meet you there.” Her hands were busy accepting medicines and treatment pamphlets from the hospital staff.

“Ah owe yah,” he nodded gratefully on his way out. “See yah in awhile.”

Gill leaned in to Adler with a sudden crease to his brow, “Do we.. do we have to pay for this?” he asked in a conspiratorial tone.

“It’s all covered,” the Doc whispered. “But yah still owe me fah that favah tha othah night...dohn mah?”

WIth a nod of understanding Gill allowed himself a small smile. Most likely considering the prospect of a date with the young lady Sereena.

As he headed into the street, Dorian placed his cortex to his ear. “Dorian Adler here….yes, that’s me. Ah’m due fah a fittin’...Ah might be a few minutes late. Just got out of surgery...yes….yes…..Ah’m on mah way. See yah in five minutes.”

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