Inbox: Pumpkin Hollow

[lovinglefthand]

An In-Character inbox for First Aid, chief clinician and surgeon at the Winterbottom clinic.

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After the Earthquake

[thelatechrisfreeman]

Chris held it together during the disaster. With First Aid out in the field, Chris had to run the clinic. And the locals knew the Winterbottom Clinic best -- even if they distributed themselves fairly evenly between that, the clinic run by Hawkeye, and the clinic run by Dr. Watson -- so the volunteer forces gathered there first for their 'marching orders'.

But, just as Chris feared, a case that needed surgical intervention dropped in their lap when they were the only one qualified to take it. Even knowing that River would much rather have the medical care than go without, even with the bullshit magic benefit of Erik's healing blood... thinking back to that moment fills Chris with dread.

The patients who can disperse back to their homes do so. Those who need to stay for observation begin dropping off into sleep. And Chris... wanders into the back room that Aidie usually uses for his own version of sleep. They wrap themself up in the sheet that Aidie keeps back there, and sit down on the floor, and just... tremble.

[lovinglefthand]

It's some time before First Aid can return to the clinic for longer than a few minutes to pick up more supplies or drop off a new patient, and when things finally slow down he stops by Chris's house first, thinking they've already finished their shift and wanting to check on them. It's concerning when he realizes that all the lights are off and he can't hear anyone inside -- did they go to the Oak & Iron instead? Surely they're not still at the clinic...

Wait, what is he thinking? Of course they're still there -- and they probably need someone to tell them that it's okay to stand down. He hurries back to the clinic as quickly as safety allows.

Even then it takes him a little while to track Chris down to his supply closet, the resting patients requiring him to move slowly and quietly. He cracks open the door and softly calls, "Chris?"

His spark aches when he finally catches sight of that huddled-up form.

[thelatechrisfreeman]

Chris looks up when First Aid opens the door. There's a moment where their expression is nothing but relief that he's here... and then they offer up a little smile that crumbles away quickly.

"I did what I had to," Chris says softly, "and it was the right thing to do. River is going to be okay, and she would want me to operate on her and make sure she could heal right... but I still feel sick about it. It's so stupid. I feel... I don't know."

[lovinglefthand]

"Oh, Chris..." First Aid closes the door gently behind him and sinks down onto the floor next to his adopted sibling, opening his arms for Chris to crawl into. "I'm sorry you had to do that," he says softly. "Although I know you did everything that was needed. It's not stupid at all..."

They're valid, is what he means. They're so valid. He strokes their back slowly, wishing he were an empath so he could just show them how much he trusts him, how proud he is and yet how sorry he is that they were put in that position in the first place.

"I'm sure River will be very grateful the next time she sees you...I know how worried she was that somebody would mishandle her treatment, if she ever got hurt..." He wonders how it happened, but. One thing at a time. Right now, Chris is his first priority.

[thelatechrisfreeman]

Chris does move into First Aid's embrace, curling up close. They reach back to tug their hair out of the ponytail they pulled in into at the start of the crisis, using the now loose hair to hide behind even as they rest a cheek against First Aid's shoulder.

"Erik mentioned a cave-in. I didn't get all the details, but the earthquake must have brought the place down on her, wherever she was."

Chris takes a breath. "I had my assistant clean her arms, but that's all. I remembered about her file, so we focused on her leg. Erik's blood can heal, but her ankle was crushed. I had to open up her leg and find all the bone fragments before his blood would be of any use."

It's just the facts of what had to be done, but First Aid should know how hard it is for Chris to perform anything close to surgery. They've been quite open about the fact that they freeze up in the operating room and struggle to do even a routine procedure that they know all the steps to.

After not being dead (moved from other thread)

[pineapplesalmon]

César did go out to explore the town as Chris suggested. It feels weird to have Chris constantly translate him. (And honestly, he feels awkward, considering he blew up at Chris near the end of their first conversation.)

Eventually, though, he wakes up with a start because of a train whistle. On a bench. Holding a broom?

Not knowing what else to do, and not wanting to delay the inevitable, César immediately makes it back towards the clinic. Even if his hands are shaking. And yes, he's carrying the broom. What? Brooms are useful.

César walks into the clinic with extreme hesitation, but he closes the door quickly to not let the cold air in. For once, his mind is mostly empty. Shock. But Chris said that First Aid would want his side of the story.

"... hello?" César's voice cracks from the cold, still awkwardly carrying the broom; it's clear he walked straight here from coming back, considering the timing.

Sorry, he's basically the older brother of a shonen protag. There are times when the stupidly pushing too far is catching. Like now.

[lovinglefthand]

"Good morning!" First Aid calls from one of the exam rooms where he'd been getting everything ready for the new day. "Just a moment, please!" He bustles out a few seconds later, metal face as blank as every but voice tired yet friendly and warm. "Oh, hello," he says again, peering down at César with some surprise. "Are you a newcomer? Thank you for coming in. Our schedule's a little tight today but I can squeeze you in if you'd like to start a patient file. Can I offer you some tea?"

There's a kettle full of hot water and some tars of tea on a counter in the corner of the room. The poor man looks like he could really use it, he looks so tired and kind of unwell. And why is he carrying a broom?

[pineapplesalmon]

... honestly, it's a relief that First Aid doesn't recognize him. That means he didn't get a good look at his frozen head.

"I'm César. César Salazar. You wanted to hear my side of the story." Literally just came back from the dead and walked here; he adds after a moment. "... I could really use some tea." A pause. "... I didn't eat."

This man might have issues taking care of himself.

[lovinglefthand]

"Oh." Oh geez, that's mortifying. First Aid's shoulders slump slightly; he says, "Of course, Mr. Salazar. Doctor Freeman already prepared a patient file for you...I can get it for you, but first --"

He pours César a cup of tea and offers him a choice between sugar and honey, and one of the fresh-baked muffins Chris had brought in that very morning, before guiding him to one of the chairs and encouraging him to sit down and sip slowly while First Aid fetches the file. While he's gone, a brown and white kitten slinks out from behind Chris Freeman's desk and yawns enormously, stretching until its tiny tail juts up in the air like a little flagpole.

[pineapplesalmon]

"It's okay. I'm glad you couldn't recognize me." Seriously, very glad.

He chooses honey and takes a muffin with a thank you for each. Which he immediately starts eating after he's sat down and before First Aid even leaves the room. But slowly. It's nice to be alive again, and this muffin tastes absolutely amazing.

César notices the little out of the corner of his eye, glances to it, and tries not to smile or look at it directly. Let the kitten come to him.

"This is good!" César raises his voice a bit to be heard, but tries to not scare the little one.

Sending Stone

[graveling]

First Aid's sending stone begins to make noise and light up, indicating a call!

Re: Sending Stone

[lovinglefthand]

[How handy, it's just like an external comm!]

Hello, this is First Aid! How can I help you?

[graveling]

[And now, in perfectly sane conversations to have:]

Is it going to be weird if my bees pollinate you?

[lovinglefthand]

Wha -- what?

[Sorry Angel, First Aid has a little mental catching up to you.]

Is this Angel? You got your bees?

[graveling]

Yes! Or at least, the hives have been built. So I will have bees soon. But I wanted to check in because you’re not normal flowers.

Sorry.

[The apology sounds like reflex.]

clinic phone call

[stonecoldtop]

George contemplates just dropping in to the clinic to get things done as quickly as possible, but on balance he'd rather not risk explaining what he's there for in a waiting room with eavesdroppers. So a call ahead it is.

"First Aid? This is George Elsworth, I'm relatively new here and I've been told you're the one to see for health testing of a sensitive nature."

[lovinglefthand]

"Sensitive?" This is the voice of a doctor who doesn't entirely get what's being said to him, but is game to play along until he figures it out. There are no bad reasons to seek out medical care, after all.

"Well, I'm happy to assure you we take patient confidentiality very seriously, Mr. Elsworth." First Aid reaches for the appointment calendar. "We have a few different afternoon time slots open this week -- I could even see you this evening, if this is a time-sensitive matter. Are you experiencing any concerning symptoms?"

[stonecoldtop]

To keep beating around the bush, or speak more plainly? Perhaps a halfway measure will suffice.

"An afternoon will be fine, thank you, it's not of dire urgency. I wish to verify my clean bill of health before I begin offering my services in town, Erik Osborne referred me to you."

[lovinglefthand]

"Oh!" Perhaps if you listen closely, you might hear that penny rattling around First Aid's metal skull. "I see! Yes, I think I understand now. Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Elsworth! I'm sure Lord Osborne had many colorful things to say about me."

His tone is warm, even fond. It might have been an embarrassing encounter for the both of them, but First Aid really doesn't bear Erik Osborne any ill well. They simply had different ideas about what was necessary to take care of the town.

"So, an afternoon appointment then?" He names a couple dates and time slots in the near future, letting George pick the one most convenient to him. "Do you have any pre-existing conditions or medicinal needs that you'd like me to be aware of?"

cw needle mention

[stonecoldtop]

"Only good things, I assure you." Which is to say: Erik didn't actually say much, but no news is good news and the like.

George picks one of the appointment times, and spends a moment thinking over the question before he answers

"If you plan to do a blood draw you might want to have a few extra needles on hand. I've had problems with them breaking in the past."

Stone and thin metal objects don't exactly mix.

A Consultation

[theresalwaystheview]

Bart, reluctant as he was to continue putting himself in the position to be betrayed again, nevertheless had reached out in the hopes of making some real headway in the treatment plan that he had been going over with his newest patient. After all, he needs a few things that First Aid has that he himself doesn't. Steady, precise hands, the ability to fabricate and test equipment properly, and actual experience with the task at hand.

He had sent a message ahead to let First Aid know that he needed an emergency consult, hoping that warning him ahead of time that he was coming would mean that he wouldn't catch the autobot when he was once again too busy to give him the time that he needed. After all, he could certainly put their interpersonal problems aside for the sake of providing the best care possible.

When he shows up at First Aid's door, he's got his hands gripped tight around the strap of his bag and the hair at his nape pulled into a small ponytail to keep it off of his neck. He waits patiently, silently, teeth worrying at the inside of his lip.

[lovinglefthand]

First Aid, for his own part, is determined to do better by Bart than he has these past few months, and he's putting that determination into action with the same energy he normally puts into his medical practice. He made certain that he'd be free to meet with Bart today, and is in fact waiting for him in the front reception room when he arrives.

Once he's lead Bart back to one of the exam rooms where they can talk privately, he begins by asking, "So what's all this about? You didn't say if you were asking for a consultation for yourself, or on behalf of someone else."

[theresalwaystheview]

"It's a bit of both actually," Bart replies as he follows First Aid back to one of his exam rooms. He's digging into his bag as the door closes behind them, and what he's searching for is soon made clear: a file, neatly labeled with the name Todoroki, Touya that he holds out for First Aid to look over.

Inside there are ample notes about the man in question, as well as myriad side notes concerning treatment regimens to run past others in the medical field that have been doing the work for longer than he has by far. "This man came to me for burn cream," he explains after a moment for First Aid to look it over. "There is far more damage to his body than just cream can manage, and he has given his permission for me to try and start the process of grafting healthy skin to the sites of these scars that cover a good eighty percent of his body. The problem is in the face that the scars cover so much that trying to take donor skin from himself would more or less be degloving him of what he's got left over and over, and I wouldn't wish that on anyone. So I wanted your opinion."

[lovinglefthand]

"Oh my..." First Aid's visor dims slightly in sympathy as he reads the notes. "That poor man, he must be in so much pain -- oh, I just saw your note that he has deadened pain receptors. That's problematic too, but at least he's not suffering...wow."

First Aid takes a moment to think it over. "The greatest impediment to using donor skin grafts would be avoiding a rejection from his immune system," he says slowly. "After that, the risk of infection, but we have enough penicillin to mitigate that. But the immune response...we'll need to loop Sally into this," he says apologetically. "I don't have enough knowledge of chemical synthesis to formulate the necessary drugs. But! If we can get over that hurdle," his visor brightens. "And if we can find some compatible donors, I can certainly help with harvesting the grafts and applying them to your patient. I would recommend that we start with the more recent scars on his face and hands, in order to ease his discomfort. If he's willing I would also like to examine him myself, in order to gauge the depth of his scars and his freedom of movement. If his muscle tissue has been affected we may need to develop an entirely new form of therapy to compensate."

[theresalwaystheview]

"It's extremely problematic, he can't tell me reliably where something has torn or been injured, he would need a full inspection any time he went to see any medical professional, just on the assumption that he may have inadvertently hurt himself just going about his life. My hope is that multiple split-depth grafts might give him at least some functionality back. Dull sensations would be better than none at all."

Bart flips open the notebook that he keeps for work-specific information, and turns to the entries that he'd begun making on Touya's specific situation. He's got sketches of the man's limbs and the scar tissue held there, along with his small, scratchy handwriting on possible treatments and pros and cons for each. "The rejection issue is our biggest hurdle here, yes. When it comes to possible muscular damage, I did do preliminary examinations of his baseline motor skills, but I didn't want to subject him to a whole battery of tests when he only wanted to see me about a topical treatment. I already overstepped my bounds just suggesting a full repair regimen, I wasn't going to suggest more right then. I will send him to you though, so that you can take those readings and return your verdict to me.

"When it comes to the areas that might need to be seen first, I'd suggested to him that smaller stretches with shallower scars might be the most ideal, as something of a test to make sure that he wouldn't be subjected to a whole swath of his back or face being further destroyed because we were careless. He's got people that really care about him, at least. I think they would be willing to help him in the recovery process either way."