CMO's Office - [Tag Ensign Haroon]

Posted Aug. 7, 2022, 6:32 p.m. by Cadet George Haroon (Scientist) (Joshua M)

Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Dr. Rahm Vesta (Chief Medical Officer) in CMO’s Office - [Tag Ensign Haroon]

Posted by Cadet George Haroon (Scientist) in CMO’s Office - [Tag Ensign Haroon]

Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Dr. Rahm Vesta (Chief Medical Officer) in CMO’s Office - [Tag Ensign Haroon]
Posted by… suppressed (6) by the Post Ghost! 👻
Dr. Rahm Vesta had spent half the morning performing an emergency double appendectomy on a Klingon apostate and was exhausted, but she’d had a thought in the back of her mind for a couple days. Apparently, just before she came on board, an oncoming Cadet Haroon had an intake appointment with Dr. Baptiste, and she’d yet to meet the man–a member of the Science team.

She frowned. This wouldn’t do. She tapped her communicator.
Cadet Haroon was just sitting down with a cup of water– his favorite drink, he never really knew why– and sighed. It had been a long night, and his experiment still hadn’t worked.
Haroon was on the nightshift yesterday, and he’d spent the whole time perfecting an experiment of his. Except it still returned no results. He’d even stayed on late for the morning. He had planned to go to sleep within an hour.
=^=Cadet Haroon, please report to the CMO’s office in Sickbay=^=, she said. Hopefully he had a little time to introduce himself to Dr. Rahm.
He startled a little. He was not expecting to hear his communicator.

He set down his drink and tapped his communicator.

=^=On my way.=^=

=^=”Acknowledged,”=^= Vesta responded. =^=”The door to my office is closed, but feel free to walk right in.”=^=

So much for getting some beauty sleep. Oh well, he’d had less sleep on numerous occasions.

He took one last sip of water, then made his way out the door, and into a turbolift.

“Deck 4.” The turbolift began whirring, making its way to its destination.
Cadet George Haroon (Science)

Having recieved confirmation from the cadet, Dr. Rahm Vesta took a small mirror from her desk and made sure she looked relatively presentable after her shift in the operating room–an afterthought. She had changed into her usual office attire, but still wore the protective paper cap from surgery. She tore it off and combed her fingers through her graying hair to give it a little more of a normal look.

She’d only finished decorating the office–on one end, her desk and a visitor’s chair backed by three bookcases stuffed with books, a bulging filing cabinet, and a storage shelf with rough gemstones and framed photos amid the functioning and broken PADDs and tricorders, and on the other side behind a screen, her private exam room with a replicator, sink, a rolling stool, and a biobed.

To make the place feel a little more homey, she’d draped Bajoran silks over some of the wall lighting and burnt two candles that smelt like Bajoran rubberwood.

She lit a candle and replicated a jug of water and two glasses, waiting to greet the Cadet.

-CMO Rahm Vesta
The turbolift stopped, and Cadet George Haroon stepped out. He’d been to sickbay before, so he quickly made it there.
He contemplated for a moment if he should activate the door chimes or just open it. He chose the chimes, as he wanted to be polite.
He readjusted his uniform, something that was somewhat of a bad habit of his, and waited to be let in.
Cadet George Haroon (Science)

“Come in,” Dr. Rahm said. She pulled the cadet’s profile and medical history up on a PADD so she could refer to it, if need be.

-CMO Rahm Vesta

The Cadet stepped through the door. He could smell the candles, it was one of his favorite scents. He extended his hand to the doctor.

Cadet George Haroon (Science)

Dr. Rahm Vesta stood and enveloped the cadet’s hands in both of hers patted them, and let them go, a flourish of fabric from her long voluminous dress that was her usual style–which she believed worked to hide her false leg and a little extra weight.

“Ah, you must be George Haroon! Welcome, welcome,” the older woman said warmly. She settled back into her chair and poured herself a glass of ice-cold water from her tin pitcher. “Would you like a glass? I swear, as one gets older, being on the ship really dries me out.”

George smiled. “I would like a glass, thank you.” He sat down in the guest chair and stretched his arms. It had been a long night in the lab, and he hadn’t had time to stretch all day.

Dr. Rahm poured the cadet a glass and set it by the young man.

He took a sip “Thanks.”

She took a rather large gulp of water. “Now, this isn’t a secondary intake or anything–more of an informal ‘getting-to-know-you’ before we’re stuck in a nebula and you don’t even know what I look like!” Vesta laughed.

-CMO Rahm Vesta

George chuckled. “Speaking of, welcome to the ship! I heard you came aboard a couple days ago.” He hoped he might hide the years-old scar on his hand, so his left hand was under his leg. As his medical history indicated, he had broken his hand for a couple months in 2392 and it had left a permanent scar. Although he was unaware that the doctor had pulled up his medical history.

Cadet George Haroon (Science)

“Yes,” Vesta said, tucking her artificial leg under her skirt. “I spend the first couple days getting my room and this office in order and meeting with the outgoing medical ensigns, but I’m seeing patients now. I see in your notes that your intake was with Baptiste–is there anything you didn’tbring up with him that I need to know? If not, just tell me a little about yourself–and I will do the same, that way we’re somewhat aquainted enough for me to feel comfortable giving you medical advice,” she laughed.

-CMO Rahm Vesta

The cadet took a sip. “I’ve been trying to hide it from most people, but I have a scar on my hand. I broke my hand about 6 years ago, I was told there would be a permanent scar.” He took his hand out from under his leg. Cat was out of the bag now anyway.

Cadet George Haroon (Science)

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