Who

Katryana, Alyna

What

Katryana is on hand when Alyna comes into the Infirmary with a bad Threadscore.

Creative profanity
Injuries

When

It is mid-afternoon of the twenty-second day of the fifth month of the fourteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Infirmary, Southern Weyr

OOC Date 04 Jul 2018 04:00

 

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"You know what would be great right now? Some fucking numbweed!"


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Infirmary

Sterile and scoured, the surfaces of the infirmary, well-tended and beloved by the complement of Healers due a weyr of Southern's size. Soothing tissane simmers at the large hearth, while comfortable chairs circle that particular feature in a waiting-room of sorts. Tables of dull-gleaming oldtimer metal lie as examining slabs, neatly lined in rows with pull-curtains enabling full privacy as needed. A low wall separates the southern half of the room from the rest, and those practicing the apothecary's trade can be seen compounding medicines under the watchful eye of the posted Master.


Another day, another (thankfully!) scheduled Threadfall. The infirmary is abuzz with activity, apprentices, and freshly scored 'riders. Numbweed, redwort, and other herbal concoctions hang heavy in the air with the acrid tang of blood and sweat-soaked riding leathers; at very least, the abatement of the summer heat has made it a little less stifling, a little more bearable to be within the walls of the Weyr today. The Fall is well underway and there's been a steady trickle of higher-caliber injuries making their way in, but overall, it's not been too many — good for morale, which has been running low on the heels of some very serious injuries and even losses that have put a fair amount of the Upper Flight's riders out of commission for the time being. Katryana's well at home here, despite the white knot currently on her shoulder, the propriety of her current rank begin forgotten as she helps organize some handy weyrbrats and junior apprentices to restock of some supplies for the triage contingent organized in the main bowl of the Weyr. She loads the arms of one of the boys (far too young to be an apprentice of any rank) with fresh bandages, taking him by the shoulders to reorient him towards the exit and giving a small push, "C'mon, Talusian, nobody's got time for this. Bring these to Journeyman Yoko." Into another kid's arms, she plops a jar of redwort, grabbing his hands and pressing them against the jar to make sure he's got it securely before shooing him with an exasperated, "Go, go, go, this is a Threadfall, not a show." Freed from her tiny charges, the teen whirls to go wash her hands and report back to her (former) Journeyman.

The far off sounds of a dragon in distress ring briefly louder then stop all together. Several minutes pass before the sound of heavy footsteps make their way to the infirmary entrance. Carrying the front of a stretcher, a tall lanky lad of maybe sixteen is doing his best not to jostle the petite blond passenger, because when he does, like accidentally knocking against the doorframe, there's a howl of pain and a string of curses that would make a sailor blush. "Wherry-headed son of an porcine! Get your head out of your ass before operating stretcher!" Propping herself up on her side, more of her is visible as they carry her further into the infirmary. His partner is a kid of about the same age but with a stockier build and he keeps getting distracted by the sight of Alyna's leg. Which is quite the mess, stetched out as she is on her side, the score striping her from hipbone to halfway down her calf is gastly, thickest over her thigh. Her face is red and she's gritting her teeth against the pain. As the pair stop to see where the greenrider should be taken, Alyna flops down against the canvas with a hefty sigh, "You know what would be great right now? Some fucking numbweed!" She manages with pained sarcasm as she bites down on her lower lip and starts to whimper.

Katryana freezes at the dragon's cry, wincing internally. More than likely, they'll be seeing whomever's beast that was in short order. She exchanges a look with her (former) Journeyman and all she gets back from Matrell is expectancy. With practiced efficiency, she's pulling things out of cabinets meant to cope with more serious injuries — a higher concentration redwort wash, mosstea leaves, needlethorn syringes, specially woven cloth to help compress injuries and stop bleeding out — while Journeyman Matrell washes up. "Ah, that would be our patient," Matrell observes dryly as Alyna is jostled against the doorway and Kat races forward, paling slightly at the wreck that is the greenrider's leg. "Careful!" The candidate-previously-known-as-apprentice chides, waving the porting pair to the treatment area they've prepared. "Shells, greenrider, that's a bloody nasty one. Here, nice and lightly, right here…" She winces sympathetically as the tall, lanky one's hands shake slightly while lowering the stretcher onto the metal table and jostle the blonde again, fully prepared for the string of curses forthcoming from the greenrider. Matrell steps up to examine what's visible of the injury impersonally while Katryana grabs some shears to slice open the wherhide riding trousers so they can properly treat the wound.

"Yeah, I don't do things in halves," Alyna replies with a sardonic chuckle, eyes shut tight as she hisses softly when the pair moves her, finally, towards the metal exam table. When the tall one jostles her again on the way down, her strangled cry is accompanied by a hand shooting out in the direction of his…well let's jsut say it's lucky the kid jumped out of the way the second the stretcher was down, or his prospects for future fatherhood may have lowered significantly. "You better fucking get out of her!" She calls as him and the stocky one take off, leaving their stretcher behind. Finally opening he eyes as she feels the steadiness of the table beneath her, she looks over at Katryana with a blink and then a weak smile, "Kat! Fancy meeting you here! What have you been up to?" Cause right now is the time for this kind of conversation. There's something a little delirious in the greenrider's voice as she tries to regulate her ragged breathing.

The fleeing boys are eyed disapprovingly by both candidate-apprentice and Journeyman but that's an issue for another time. The pants and belt are both severed without regard for value, working around the Journeyman who is preparing a syringe of regional anesthesic to pair with the numbweed. "What, have you got another one of these on the other side you aren't showing us?" Katryana questions jokingly, the bedside manner of the two, holding her breath as she gets to the edge of the score. "This is going to really suck; we've got to get the fabric out before we can numb this properly." She puts a steadying hand on the 'rider's leg — really, this wasn't the context she wanted to be touching Alyna like this in. "I know, I can't believe they let me out either. Breathe, Alyna. We'll be able to get this numb in just a moment, but I need you to breath right now." She begins peeling away the fabric from the edge of the burn, gentle but efficient enough to get this over with as soon as possible to not cause unnecessary pain. "I know it hurts, breathe, breathe."

Matrell swabs a cottonball of redwort near Alyna's hip before slipping the needle under the surface near a nerve cluster. "Short acting, but should relieve enough to help us work." And indeed, it makes what Katryana's doing much more bearable. "Well, thank Faranth, it isn't deep. This should heal well enough in time, though you'll be grounded for months, wingrider." He's in his (former) apprentice's wake to heavily apply redwort, dyeing the already angry skin even more red. "This will need debriding." A look at Kat's got her scrambling for fellis and the tools needed to do that nasty bit of work. Numbweed is dabbed on in a thin layer and left for several minutes like that while the Journeyman goes to make sure everything's sanitized and in order.

"The one side is plenty, let me tell you," Alyna says with a giddy giggle as she cradles her head on her crooked arm as the other draps itself over her eyes as she sighs mightily at the healer-turned-candidate's warning. "Just do it," she grits her teeth bravely as Katryana begins her work. But there's a thin sheen of sweat on her brow, and her cries have faded to pained whimpers by the time the sweet numbing bliss of the injection starts to take the edge off. "Oh much better," she relaxes, her body losing some of it's tenseness as she smiles weakly at the Healer's assessment. "See? it's not so bad," it's not readily apparent who she is trying to convinvce, them or herself. The talk of debrieding gets a half-hearted wince as she takes a few deep breaths, "Any chance at all I could get just a wee shot of something before that happens. Whiskey for preference, but I'll take anything," she says, trailing off into giggles again.

"Keep breathing. Almost done…" Katryana continues narrating, having finished one side and switched to the other. "There, all done." Fellis is fetched along with a tincture of red willow bark. She'd grabbed some of their wine typically used mix the foul-tasting medicines into, but whiskey is given a moment of consideration. She opens her mouth to say something, closes it, and looks to Matrell for his approval. "Bleeding's under control; I see no contraindication," he assesses, turning back to clean some of the numbweed from the wound by dousing it with water in order to be able to see what he's doing, "You may continue, Katryana." His touch is more perfunctory than Kat's but also more efficient. She clears her throat and, yeah, the Healers have totally got some nigh-moonshine socked away from occasions where heavy liquor is need. Tincture, fellis, and the strong spirit are mixed together into something burns the teen's nose to breathe. After a moment of thought, she also pours a pity chaser of straight liquor and fetches a cold rag. "This one's medicine and this one's medicine. Willow bark tincture for the pain, enough fellis to make you a bit loopy, and whatever bottom of the barrel things you 'riders like, anyway," she informs, wiping the sheen of sweat from the woman's forehead. "Bottom's up!" She holds the worst of the two to Alyna's lips with an apologetic grin.

Watching Katryana work her craft, Alyna's pale blue eyes are hyper focused on the girl's movements, and not watching what the healer is doing bent over her now thanfully numbed leg. She manages to prop herself up on her elbow in preparation of her drink by the time Katryana is there with the two shots, noding slowly as she lists the ingredients and the probably effects, "Just loopy? Not knocked out? I don't want to be knocked out when D'har gets here, I want him to know there's nothing to worry about." She narrows her eyes briefly on the once-healer apprentice before she shrugs and takes up the medicated shot first and downs it with no more that a soft hiss at the burn. It's immediately followed by the straight chaser, and that one is actually given a lip smack of satisfaction before she sinks back onto the table with a happy sigh after handing the second glass back. "Have I told you that you're my favorite candidate Kat?" she says dreamily through lightly curled lips.

"Shouldn't knock you out, but every body is different. It's a lighter dose than strictly called for, but it's better if you're conscious for this. Your pain is valuable information, though I know it doesn't seem like it in the moment." Katryana glances down the mangled leg, before carrying on. "Journeyman Matrell is going to clean the wound of unhealthy tissue to make sure it heals cleanly. I need you to let us know if you experience any change in sensations while he does this, to make sure we leave all we can." She can't help but blush at the words and sputters for a moment as she takes the small glasses back, hands shaking enough that they clatter against each other. "Ah. No. You haven't." The teen ducks away to put the glasses aside and the worst of the redness of her face has subsided by the time she's back — now with a small stool to sit on! Matrell already acquired one, at some point, but we're not going to focus too much on what he's doing because it's making poor Kat turn a little green and swallow reflexively every time she looks over.

With some nodding of her head, Alyna grasps what Katryana is telling her is going to happen and takes a few deep breaths to steady herself, her pulse steadying with the alcohol fortifying her. Her ice blue eyes still don't leave Katryana though, even with all the talk of what's happening in the area of her leg, "Ok, I can do that," she says in weak affirmation as she swallows through the knot forming in her throat. The blush and shaking hands doesn't escape notice, but the greenrider still has her wits about her enough to pretend like she didn't, gazing up at the ceiling as Katryana is on the way back with her stool. But when she glances over again and notices the girl going green, she can't help a tease, "You'd think you were the one with their leg turned to ground meat, sheesh, you call yourself a healer?" she scoffs with an over-exagerated roll of her eyes.

Distract, distract, distract! Or, as Matrell would put it, 'provide something for the patient to focus on while to procedure is ongoing to minimize stress and risk of injury'. (One can practically hear the apprentices falling asleep in the background of the textbook soliloquy.) "Excellent." Katryana's pulled herself back together, once again prim professionalism and only a little pale from looking at the woman's wounds. "Hey, now, you're the one who did a right number on it!" she shoots back without missing a beat, banter as good of a way as any to keep the greenrider's mind off what's happening. "And it isn't ground meat, thankfully. Large, yes, and it'll take a good amount of time to heal, but the damage seems mostly contained to the hypodermis and above. That's the layer where fat is stored, meaning the Threadscore hasn't penetrated through to the connective tissues and muscles. Prognosis is good, with time." Her eyes dart south to the Journeyman, judging the amount of distraction she's got let to do, which isn't terribly much. Clearing her throat, the teen continues, "Speaking of candidates, it's getting close to that time. I've even heard people placing bets the hatchlings will shell within the next sevenday."

Her eyes dulling slightly as the boozy medicinals kick in, Alyna relaxes futher with a soft sigh, eyelids fluttering sleepily now that the pain is mostly taken care of, only the occasional tweak makes her grimace softly, but other than that, the woman's a trooper. Or just medicated to the eyeballs. "Hey, it's taken over a dozen turns as a rider to get a score this bad, so I'll take it." she sniffs indignantly, words slurred thick and slurred. "Besides," she says with a soft batting of her eyes in the candidate's direction, "Now I can use the whole, 'Hey, do you wanna see my scar?' pick-up line." She laughs at her own little joke before eyes droop closed for a long blink before she forces them open again, "No, can't sleep yet," she mumbles to herself.

Katryana can't help but laugh at how indignant Alyna is, "That's a pretty good track record." She tracks Matrell as he moves away, switching out sharp instruments and salt water solution for more redwort, more numbweed, a poultice of mosstea and lavender to pack the wound and stave off infection, and clean wrappings. "Just wrapping the wound now and you'll be all set. Set enough to get you moved to a bed proper to rest, at any rate, and off of this metal slab. Even with the fellis, I don't know how you're falling asleep." At some point, the other leg of what were priorly Alyna's pants got pulled off, and Katryana makes a note to make sure said bed gets an extra blanket. Any other, perhaps slightly less proper thoughts are shoved off as irrelevant. The batting of lashes doesn't even phase her at this point. "Just rest, Alyna. I'll let D'har know you're okay when he shows up, don't worry about that." A half-hearted, mumbled protest is all Alyna's capable of before sleep claims the injured rider.

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