Who

Amarante

What

Not keen on participating in animal tests, Amarante's wound expertise is useless in the blue goo exploration … until a stroke of "luck" makes it so it isn't so.

When

It is midmorning of the twenty-eighth day of the twelfth month of the twelfth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Infirmary, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 17 Jan 2018 05:00

 

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Her colleagues would either think she was stupid or brilliant, and 'both' seemed the most likely option.


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Infirmary

From the astringent smell of redwort, to the gleam of counter and cabinet, this place positively defines the concept of antiseptic cleanliness. Despite the yawning exit to the Dragonhealer Courtyard, the floors remain scrupulously swept of sand and particulate matter. Back behind the counter where the healers usually are, are shelves full of bottles and jars, as well as cupboards hiding away more delicate items that shouldn't be exposed to too much sand. Beyond the counter, there is the Desk, where patients are checked in and taken to one of the examination areas by a healer. The windows are usually kept open for the flow of air, but there is both shutters to shut out dust storms, and curtains for other occasions.


While the pediatricians were the first to really make anything of the blue goo-stuff due to their first patient being a child, Amarante had actually been the first healer on site. She was the first one to see anything, and while she had no proprietary claim and didn't even feel possessive of the case, it was hard not to want to claim something once rumors started going around about what the stuff did.

She was the one who spent all her time studying wounds, after all.

People kept asking her things as if she knew the answer, because it made sense that she would; that was her area. On the other hand, no one had actually come in with logical study parameters. The patients they got because they used the stuff and it went wrong, that wasn't exactly providing steady information. Some of the others were spending time on animal testing; having grown up at Herder Hall, that sort of thing made Amarante uncomfortable and she kept herself associated only by paper. Reading reports, sure, participating not so much.

("You've got better hands with beasts than most of us, why don't you help?" got asked once or twice in her late apprenticeship, and "that's exactly why" was always the answer.)

So because that was all that was safe, Amarante stayed in the periphery of just paying attention until human wounds came into play. Human wounds that were actually wounds, and not allergic reactions brought on by putting strange blue goo on themselves to see what would happen.

Until she got lucky.


It was cold out, which meant that Amarante kept a series of long-sleeved items on when she did things like go out far enough on circuit, whether to Kurkar or Vtol Swamp or somewhere else nearby that sometimes asked for her help — and that meant that when Hyssop spooked and threw her, the fact that she had a horrid gash on her upper arm was covered up by clothing.

Clothing whose torn bits she had to pull out of the wound herself, alone, in the Weyr's infirmary after she got back — but she couldn't have let anyone else help and would have to pretend it wasn't there.

As soon as she'd fallen on the way in to Kurkar, it had been easy enough to figure out what she'd be doing once she left. Knowing enough people who she'd helped with illnesses in the past few Turns since the Hold's discovery and founding, she was able to get some of that glowing blue stuff as close to straight from the source as anyone could.

It was possible-to-likely that most of what the Bazaar was selling was adulterated or contaminated, after all.

Numbing her own upper arm at that angle was impossible, so when she carefully applied the stuff to the too-small-to-suture gaping area she cringed and bit her lip so as not to make a sound. Her biphasic sleep and unusual schedule where dawn was the middle of her day made it easier to get away with, but it was still a challenge.

They'd probably write her off with the other crazy patients who tossed it on willy-nilly if her few superiors found out. Her colleagues, they would either think she was stupid or brilliant, and 'both' seemed the most likely option. Crazy, but in a considerate fashion.

Right then, it just kind of burned a little.

But if trying a sterile, careful application on patients wasn't going to be an option for Faranth knew how long, and Amarante wanted nothing to do with animal studies, she'd have been even crazier not to take advantage of the opportunity.

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