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Side Sim [Primary Medical Suite]: Medical Check-In

Posted May 24, 2022, 9:26 p.m. by Lieutenant Drake Marshall (Surgical Chief/ Emergency Medicine) (Sam Pennington)

Posted by Ensign Caelian Weir (Engineer) in Side Sim [Primary Medical Suite]: Medical Check-In

Posted by Lieutenant Drake Marshall (Surgical Chief/ Emergency Medicine) in Side Sim [Primary Medical Suite]: Medical Check-In

Posted by Ensign Caelian Weir (Engineer) in Side Sim [Primary Medical Suite]: Medical Check-In
Posted by… suppressed (6) by the Post Ghost! 👻



—SNIP—

Drake watched from a distance for a moment as the irritatingly young EMH attempted to offer assistance to the newbie. “Nothing about this ship is standard.” He said from where he stood, near the nurse’s station. He walked over to the pair of them and said, first to the EMH “You’re relieved Doogie. We’ll call if we need you.” Then to Caelian “Don’t mind him, he works just like any other EMH. Don’t know why he looks like a kid, and at this point I prefer not to ask. So, Ensign Weir, Engineer, is it?” Most of the time, the doctor was consulting a PaDD, as though too engrossed to fully engage with Caelian.

-Dr Drake Marshall

He watched the hologram evaporate, noting that it somehow managed to look smug as it did so. Caelian shrugged, assuming it was just a trick of the light or his imagination. He did not seem put off by the doctor’s apparent disregard for his presence; as an engineer with a lot on his mind, Caelian was often possessing of the same habit. As long as he gets the diagnoses right, he mused to himself.

“Yes, sir,” he replied with an affable grin. “Just arrived from Starbase 187. Thought I might get the green light from you before I settled in. Is there any particular place I need to stand?”
—Caelian Weir, Engineer—

Drake hadn’t really considered that they were still standing in the receiving area. “Yeah. Right. Have a seat on biobed…” he looked around. “Sixteen. Right over there.” As they walked in that direction, Drake rummaged through his lab coat pocket and retrieved a medical tricorder.

As the arrived he finally looked up from his PaDD. “So. Ensign Caelian Weir. I just read your medical history. Aside from your vision troubles when you were younger, seems like you’re a relatively healthy person. Anything you’d like to add to that record, particularly from encounters on the Ark Angel, Viking, or at 187?” He gestured to the biobed. “Have a seat.”

-Dr Drake Marshall

Nodding, the engineer moved his belongings to where the doctor indicated, taking a seat with a particularly pensive expression. He hadn’t thought about the Ark Angel in quite some time, and when he did Caelian was more concerned with Hope than himself. There hadn’t been any updates from Starfleet on her situation in just as long, but he tried to believe she was in good hands; he wasn’t sure his conscience could handle her ending up as a prisoner to scientific experimentation, considering what she’d been through to end up in his neck of the universe. Maybe he’d track her down when he got some leave.

Or when I get carted off to another starship, he thought almost bitterly. Let’s hope not.

“Other than the slight nausea from the radiation treatments and a bit of stiffness that make crawling into jefferies tubes interesting, I think the worst is behind me.” Caelian chuckled, lifting his left arm to demonstrate. He could feel the nanofilament rehabilitation sleeve tighten beneath his uniform, preventing his elbow from fully extending. He grinned through the wince. “But for having nearly been blown into space, I can’t complain.”

It was an understatement in its own right. While he could deal with the aches and pains that came with his injuries, Caelian knew it would take his mind longer to heal from the catastrophe that had been the Viking. Oh, there had been nothing wrong with the ship itself, he knew; it was more the series of explosions that had shredded her hull like so much formaggio that had been the issue. He’d been lucky, and so it was more that he wouldn’t complain in appreciation for that luck.

He gave the doctor a long-suffering half-smile. “Though I guess if something else pops up, I’m in the right place, eh?”
—Caelian Weir, Engineer—

“Nowhere better to get mortally wounded, than where there’s always an expert surgeon a few decks away.” Drake chuckled. “If you’d like a prescription for the nausea, I can give you something that’ll take care of that anytime it crops up. Otherwise it seems like you’re in physical therapy and rather accustomed to it. While I can say any doctor here would be happy to evaluate your condition, and look for a new treatment plan… if what you have is working for you, sometimes that’s better than reopening the whole thing.” He’d had more than one patient refuse additional treatment in favor of just getting on with life. People had different priorities sometimes.

-Dr Drake Marshall

Caelian could only give a wry chuckle at the mention of being “mortally wounded.” He’d only been posted to two other ships previously, and both had nearly met their end. He’d had enough mortal wounds to last him a lifetime, and not all scars were so easy to heal. Shrugging inwardly, he considered the doctor’s words for a moment.

“What with my, uh, vision issues,” he chuckled again, “I’ve learned how to cope with low-grade nausea. I’m just looking forward to getting back to work, though I’m guessing it’ll still be a bit before I’m crawling through the bowels of the Ogawa. As long as nothing looks out-of-place to you, that’s all I need to know. Professional experience, and all.”
—Caelian Weir, Engineer—

“It’s up to you.” Drake said. “I’ll just write up a quick report for your file… Ensign Weir has been through a lot in a brief career, but he is, in my opinion, within all fitness guidelines established for service. He is hereby medically cleared.” He stuffed his PaDD in his pocket. “That’s that then. You’re free to go. If you have any troubles, just come back.”

-Dr Drake Marshall


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