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Give a Guy a Hand? - Alt Timeline - TAG Any Medical -

Posted March 9, 2019, 7:18 p.m. by Lieutenant Junior Grade Micah Glass (Doctor) (D Grisham)

Posted by Ensign Oliver Pierce (Engineer) in Give a Guy a Hand? - Alt Timeline - TAG Any Medical -

Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Micah Glass (Doctor) in Give a Guy a Hand? - Alt Timeline - TAG Any Medical -

Posted by Ensign Oliver Pierce (Engineer) in Give a Guy a Hand? - Alt Timeline - TAG Any Medical -
Posted by… suppressed (4) by the Post Ghost! 👻
“AGH! Ffff… ok! Ok. Ow.” Oliver gritted his teeth and tried to stifle a yelp of pain. He was hunched over his desk in his tiny quarters with his sleeves rolled up and his right arm laid out bare before him. His mechanical right hand sat palm up on the desk twitching as a thin bit of metal, the remnants of a now very broken tool, rose out of the mechanical base of his wrist. He breathed hard, regretting doing self-maintenance tired, and slowly extended his left hand to pull out the broken tool.

I wish I didn’t do that! He thought as the attempt both proved the tool was quite stuck in there, and set off a fresh wave of pain. Though mechanical, the prosthetic was very much so connected to the nerves in his forearm, and he was deeply regretting opting for this appendage that primitive compared to modern bio-synthetic limbs. He thought for a moment about calling Reno, or Sural, or anyone from Engineering for help, but eventually thought better of it. Engineers tended not to have a delicate touch, and alone just barely grazing the broken metal rising from his wrist was nearly as painful as losing the hand in the first place.

“Ok,” Oliver said aloud, “You’re fine. You just need to get to sick bay, and talk them through fixing your hand.” He sat in silence for a moment just looking at the mess he’d made of his artificial limb. Through gritted teeth, he managed to berate himself, “Get up. Now.

Oilver stood and began the long trek to sick bay from his quarters on deck 45.

When he finally arrived, he walked as confidently as he could through the door and spoke up and, without properly thinking of the pun, “Hello? Can anyone lend a hand?”

Oliver Pierce, Eng.

Micah looked up from a console where she’d been charting on the morning’s activities. “I’m sure I can.” As she crossed the open floor toward him, her brows raised with surprise. “Well, I might have to rephrase that. I’m Lt Glass and a doctor, but you might need an engineer instead.”

Despite the fact that the affected limb was not organic, she found herself reaching out to take the mechanical hand in her own. While waiting for the officer to respond, she carefully rolled the arm, from the elbow, a few degrees to the left and right to get a better look at what was sticking up out of it.

—Glass

“N-no, Doctor,” Oliver managed as he pointed to the gold trim on his uniform and tried to force a smile, “I’m afraid I know too many engineers to think that’s a good idea.” While he was normally rather nervous around people, and would normally follow their advice, he really didn’t want someone to try to disassemble his hand while forgetting there was a person attached. That sort of thinking is what got him into this mess in the first place.

While looking at the hand, Micah would see Oliver’s normal, human flesh abruptly end just before the wrist. As it stood, a thick base plate sat abutting the arm to connect the nerves in his forearm to the various mechanical elements that served to emulate the full range of movement of a normal hand. Currently, a small hatch, extending from the base plate to the bottom of Oliver’s palm, was hanging open, revealing a mess of interconnected cords and wires, alongside an array of multi-colored lights.

“This is really quite fascinating.” She said, eyes greedily taking in details of the prosthetic and how is was attached to the Ensign.

Sticking out of that mess was a long, thin piece of metal once belonging to a micro-spanner. The object had a sharp point facing up, as it had broken from its handle, and was currently wedged between two sturdy, taut metal wires.

Oliver reached into his into his tool belt and gingerly grabbed a series of tools. “This is going to be a two handed job, and I know this isn’t exactly your job, but if it wouldn’t be too much of an imposition, could I walk you through getting this think out of my wrist?”

Oliver Pierce, Eng

“Really? Sure, I’d be happy to help.” Micah led him over to a biobed with its nearby taller bedside tray. “Which one of these will work better to stabilize your arm?” She was always up for a new experience, medical or something else. Part of her natural charm and likability was a willingness to try anything at least once. “I don’t recognize you, Ensign. Can I get a name so I can call up your medical files?”

—Glass

“Oliver Pierce… er, Ensign. Ensign Pi- Ensign Oliver Pierce.” He finally managed, closing his eyes and nodding to get the words out. Oliver was a nervous wreck a great deal of the time, and he was really regretting not being able to handle this on his own. The doctor had something of a reassuring presence, however, and she didn’t seem annoyed at his predicament, so he did his best to calm himself. “And you? You’re, uh, name?”

“Micah Glass.” Ensign Pierce appeared quite nervous to her, but then again, his discomfort could be attributed to pain, couldn’t it? She did a micro-second review of what she’d read on prosthetics and nodded. Pain could be contributing a great deal to his distress.

Once he got her name he handed her two tools. One was long and thin, not unlike the piece of metal protruding from Oliver’s hand, though ending in a circle with exposed copper, and possessing a small button the pommel. The other was large and a pincer-like appendage at the end. He then placed his elbow on the biobed to provide the best angle for the doctor to work. “Ok, this is gonna be real simple,” Oliver said, more to himself than to Dr. Glass, “That thin one there is a tool called a discharger. I need you to touch it to that blinking green light atop that tiny box at the left of my palm,” Oliver pointed using his left hand, “and press the button on the end. Then you’re going to want to use that second one, the mini-pinch, to twist the little dial next to the light to the left. That’s going to reduce the amount of…” He blinked for a minute as his vision blurred a bit from the pain, “Whoa… Ok. Feedback. That’s going to reduce the amount of feedback coming from that local nerve box.” He forced a smile, “This will make everything feel less like we’re doing open-hand surgery on a conscious patient.”

She took the small devices, one in each hand, and found the most comfortable way to hold them that would allow her access to the affected area of the artificial hand.

“Meanwhile,” He continued, “I’ll be making sure you aren’t dealing with any undue movements.” Without explanation, Oliver reached into his tool belt and produced a new micro-spanner. He then placed it onto a small dial near the base plate of his hand, and turned what he knew to be the paralytic inducer. As long as he held this knob in place, his arm couldn’t move anything in his hand, and all the fingers & artificial muscles locked in place so that the hand wouldn’t move every time he felt a jolt of pain.

Oliver Pierce, Eng

Following his instructions, Micah did as she’d been instructed and inserted the first tool until it made contact with the blinking, green light. It took three tries for her to press the button successfully on the end of the shaft, but the attempts were made in only a few seconds. The unfamiliar build of the tools was an obstacle, but her hands were very adaptive so she was able to turn down the dial with the mini-pinch on the first try.

“Okay…does that feel better?”

—Glass

Oliver breath out as the sensation of pain went from an open wound to a dull throb. “Much, thank you,” He gave a genuine smile, “You’re natural. A natu- You’re learning quick, I mean.” While the several passes she took at the discharger didn’t do him any favors, it was the mini-pinch he was worried about, which locked in the amount of feedback he got from the nerve box. If she had taken multiple stabs at that, it would have been much more painful, so Dr. Glass’s quick learning was very appreciated.

Micah smiled back at him. She found the situation extremely interesting.

He took a deep breath, “Now. On to step two.” Oliver took his hand off the paralytic inducer for a moment to hand the doctor a pair of simple, old, worn-out pliers, before reapplying the inducer, “So here’s where the process gets real down and dirty.” He said, bracing himself, “Now you don’t need the micro-pinch anymore, but you’re going to need to hold onto the discharger for later. Right now, do you see those wires?” He loosened his pinky finger from his own tool and pointed vaguely to the four thick wires that ran the length of the inner working visible from his open hand-panel, two of which were currently crossed tight against each other, squeezing between them the shaft of what used to be Oliver’s micro-spanner.

She leaned in a little more to get a better look. “Yes, I see them.” Her gaze then shifted to Oliver, knowing there were more instructions coming.

“Those run to my fingers.” He said plainly, “But the ones that go to my middle and ring finger are all twisted, which is putting tension on that metal sticking out of my hand.” Oliver took a second, trying to think of a tactful way to say what he needed to, “Now I need you to take those pliers, grip the two wires above the cross on the fingers’ side, and then… just… sorta… yank them hard as you can toward my wrist.” Clearly he failed.

“That’ll relieve the tension on the micro-spanner shaft right now, and will let you get to what’s underneath those wires. Don’t worry,” He tried giving a reassuring smile, which likely failed horribly, “This will just put some tension in the parts of the wire further of my fingers, and I’m almost mostly sure it can take it.”

Oliver Pierce, Eng

Micah bit her lip as she looked at the pliers, then nodded. “Okay, I want to make sure I have this straight. I use the pliers to get hold of the two twisted wires on the finger side. Once I do that, I’m supposed to give a hard yank toward your wrist?” She looked at the small, open hatch on his palm. “What if I pull too hard? Can I make the situation worse?”

He looked nervous and she didn’t blame him. “When you say you’re almost sure you can take it, that means there’s pain? Can I administer something from the ship’s pharmacy to help decrease what you might feel?” She didn’t know the first thing about his prosthetic, but it was somehow connected to nerve tissue and that meant he could feel sensations.

—Micah


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