E is for Empathic Concerns
Title: Empathic Concern
Author: Neiths-Arrow
Pairing: None
Rating: PG13
Genre: angst, hurt-comfort
Spoilers: Up to Season 7
Summary: Janet from the perspective of an unknown junior officer.
Author's Notes: Written for sg_fignewton's Gen Fic Day - aka Alphabet Soup. This story has not been through the beta process, so I apologize for any glaring mistakes.
As she walked into the room, her eyes were drawn to the monitor. Despite the fact that knowing wouldn't make a difference, she noted that his heart rate was still rapid. A quick scan of his body showed that his skin color had an unhealthy blue tinge. The young patient's chest expanded and contracted with effort. Coupled with quick respirations, it was a classic symptom of a body starved for oxygen.
During SG-2's last mission, the lieutenant had inhaled a benzene-like gas from an alien plant that he had been studying. The gas had already destroyed a large portion of the oxygen-carrying red-blood cells and had damaged much of his bone marrow - the only mechanism that created new cells. The alien chemical created a permanent bond with hemoglobin, so the destruction continued unabated. Until it worked its way out of his system, the residual gas would continue to destroy red blood cells. Even though the destruction rate was slowing, the descent wasn't fast enough. As quickly as they transfused healthy cells, they were being destroyed. It was a battle to keep ahead of the disease. Though they were slowly gaining an advantage, the longer the battle raged, the weaker the young officer became. With less oxygen-carrying hemoglobin, the respiratory system attempted to build up the level of oxygen by increasing his respiration. The heart was pumping at a rapid rate to deliver the precious gas to starved cells as quickly as possible. In an effort to protect the brain, the body was starting to sacrifice non-essential parts by reducing blood flow to those areas.
And there was nothing they could do about it but wait. She had tried. Dr. Janet Fraiser was not under the mistaken impression that she could win every battle, but she was damned if she was going to stand by and do nothing. So they had increased his available oxygen, transfused fresh blood, placed him in a hyperbaric chamber, injected oxygen-sparing nutrient and drugs, and tried every experimental treatment at their disposal. She thought they had gained an edge, but the readings indicated otherwise. They had exhausted every avenue to help the young airman and it wasn't quite enough. It amounted to a battle of time - a battle that he was losing every minute that passed. All they could do now was to make him comfortable and wait. But she didn't do waiting very well; she was a woman of action.
Lieutenant Rossi shifted uncomfortably on the bed. His eyelids popped open as he swallowed convulsively and then gasped for air. She caught a quick flash of panic before he got his emotions under control. Fraiser turned her full attention to him and pushed her frustration down. Her feelings wouldn't do him any good. If he had any chance, it would lie with his ability to endure. So she approached and smiled gently. "Well, hello there! It's good to see that you've joined us, Lieutenant."
He attempted a smile, then gasped, "Ross. Name's. Ross." His breathy response made it sound like he was in the middle of running the last leg of a marathon.
Janet smiled. Her mentor had once told her, "You're treating the individual, my dear, not the officer." He had explained that providing treatment to the critically ill transcended rank and station. In order to kick in the body's natural healing abilities, it was important to get to the inner self and that self was not called Lieutenant.
Janet kept her features soft. "You keep hanging in there Ross."
He smiled at the use of his nickname. It made him feel like less of an object and more of a person. Ever since coming back from the planet, he had been carted from one room to the next and had had multiple medical procedures done. He could tell that they were doing everything they could, but it didn’t ease his fears. He didn’t like being out of control. To have the CMO treating him personally and calling him by name gave him a sense of relief. He had heard good things about this doctor, but now he was experiencing it for himself. He looked up at her with complete trust.
Janet’s heart broke at the look in his eye. She only wished she could do more. She leaned over and gently laid the back of her hand against his forehead. She could feel the heat generated by his efforts, even though his body wasn't releasing water through his pores; it was holding onto the precious oxygen that made up water molecules. She made a mental note to make sure his electrolyte balance wasn't off. A sharp alarm startled them both. She looked up to see that his oxygen saturation level had dipped. But, thankfully, they came back up.
"Keeps. Doing it." His expression was worried and he looked with question into her eyes.
His youth reminded her of Cassie. Janet fought a wave of emotion. Not now. Definitely not now. She could break down later. The last thing he needed was the discouragement of seeing his doctor break down. She forced a gentle smile. "Well, we can take care of that." She turned off the alarm. No matter what the level said, there was nothing they could do about it. His body was taking in all the oxygen that it could. He didn't need the extra jolts from the alarm; his adrenal system was already overtaxed.
She studied his face and saw the fear. It was time to engage the compassionate part of her job. Sometimes, all you could do was listen. And other times, all you could do was to sit by someone's side and provide comforting touches. They called it 'empathic concern' in her medical class. Basically, it meant to put yourself in the patient's shoes and then follow your heart. Right now, her heart told her that he sorely needed human contact.
She lost eye contact briefly as she pulled a chair to his bedside. She reached over with a wet towel to cool his brow. It wouldn't be long now. This battle had already been waging for two days already. He would either make it or his body would shut down. It couldn't keep this up for much longer. She would wait with him. He deserved that. His death would not be a pleasant one. Slow suffocation from internal sources was equally as arduous as if from a physical obstruction. He didn’t deserve this.
Janet offered her hand. He grasped it fiercely. There was no need for words. He had not moved his eyes from her face since he had awakened. "Doc." His breathing stuttered. It took a lot out of him to admit, "Scared." His hand was shaking in her grasp - from either fatigue or emotion,.
"Sh! Its okay." She leaned over and stroked his hair. He looked impossibly young. Had she been that age when she first enlisted? He had closed his eyes and seemed to take in her mothering care like a desiccated sponge absorbing water. His breathing smoothed as she continued in a soothing voice. "That's right. Focus on breathing. In. Out. Big breaths." She looked at his O2 sats to see that his level had improved slightly from when she first came into the room. "That's good. You're doing good." Any advantage was better than none.
She put herself in his shoes. He was helpless, surrounded by scary equipment, and he was alone. He was probably scared out of his mind - she knew that she would be. Janet continued in a soft voice. "Major Griff tells me that you're from Minnesota. Did you know that Colonel O'Neill is also from Minnesota?" She had his attention. Like most of the newer recruits, he was in awe of the higher-ranking officers. "He tells me that it's beautiful there." Ross smiled and nodded in agreement. Good. She was on the right track. "Did you have a favorite place to go there?"
He was lost in his memories for a while, but a small smile appeared fleetingly on his face. When he opened his eyes, they were shining slightly with emotion. "Lake. Quiet." The effort to speak had cost him.
She smiled in encouragement. "Ross, I want you to imagine that you're there." He closed his eyes. After a few minutes, he retained the smile. His breathing rate hadn't changed in any noticeable fashion, but his sats were remaining steady. She wasn't happy with the numbers, but they weren't getting worse. He was exhausted, but she didn't dare give him anything to help him sleep. Over the next two hours, she watched his breathing and prompted him to return to the peaceful lake whenever his sats went down. Sometimes she regaled him with lighter stories about personnel at the SGC.
Her vigilance was taking a toll on her. She had been working for almost two days straight with little naps when she could. Janet caught the eye of a passing nurse. Her patient was still. "Ross, I'm going to get a cup of coffee, but I'll be right back. Nurse Adams is going to sit with you until I come back."
She and Adams shared a look of understanding. Adams picked it up immediately and continued in a similar soothing voice. "Hi Ross. I'm the one who usually wakes people up to give them a sleeping pill."
Janet left in the middle of her routine. A little humor never failed to calm down a tense situation. As soon as she entered the hallway, Major Griff and the remaining members of SG-2 shot to their feet. "Doctor Fraiser. How is he?" They looked just as eager as they had earlier in the day.
Dr. Fraiser decided to hold off on nagging them for the moment. "He's holding on. Every minute that he holds on increases his chances of recovery. But I won't lie to you. It also 'decreases' his chances."
Griff looked down. "I should have been there." His face was stern with self reproach.
"Major. You did everything you could have possibly done - you got him back to the SGC." She hoped, for Griff's sake, that the young Lieutenant survived. She didn't think Griff could survive the loss of another person under his command. He took the losses personally and it took its toll. He already looked older than when she had first met him. Her guess was that he would retire rather than risk it again. She had seen it before.
Her voice got more stern. "Now. All of you. I don't want to see you here when I get back. You need to rest."
They looked at her with pleading eyes. "Can we see him?"
The strong sense of team hood was strong at the SGC. From what she had seen, SG-2 had quickly bonded. Maybe it would help the youngest member of the team. Besides, this might be their last chance to say good-bye. She relented, "I'll let you see him briefly. But then you all need to get some rest." They nodded in acquiescence but with a lighter attitude. She escorted them in and then went to get coffee.
When she came back, they were just leaving. Her patient looked relieved. She had made the right call. He seemed to be struggling harder to breath after the brief visit, so she pulled the chair closer to his bed. Her inner sense told her that tonight would be it. Either he would win or the disease would win. In either case, she was there for the long haul. She would wait with him.
Sometime around 3am, Janet fell asleep from sheer exhaustion. She had spent most of the night going between soothing her patient into calmer breathing, cooling his brow, and anxiously reading his monitor. She wasn't sure what woke her the next morning, but her head was resting on the bed. It took her sleepy brain a moment to decipher the clock from her sideways position. "5:58 am" flashed to "5:59 am." She jerked awake to look at her patient. He was deathly quiet. Her eyes flew to his monitor. His oxygen levels, while not perfect, had definitely improved to a level that was closer to normal. His breathing rate had calmed considerably, and he had lost the bluish tinge to his lips. She felt bad about disturbing him, but she needed to make sure he was doing well. She drew the blood herself. Apparently, he wasn't as unaware as she thought because he woke up as she withdrew the needle.
"How are you feeling?" She needed to check his mental status, so she used an open-ended question. She hoped the prolonged time of oxygen deprivation had not damaged his brain function. They would need to do a full series of CT scans to determine that.
He croaked. "Better." He looked at the clock. "You stayed with me." It was a statement of fact tinged with disbelief.
Janet didn't have a chance to brush off her role in his recovery because he was already asleep. She smiled in relief and thanks. They had won this battle.
She called the nurse over to watch over him while she got some rest. She trusted her staff to call her if there was any change in his status.
Janet then went out into the hall to call his teammates. She wasn't surprised to find that Major Griff was still there. He had apparently ordered his team to bed, but didn't feel he needed the same consideration. He frankly looked like crap. She thought for a moment that he probably looked like she felt. His face softened with relief when she released a smile. "It looks like he's going to be okay."
Griff wasn't the reserved type. For a minute, he looked like he was going to shout down the hallway, but he restrained himself lest the other marines witness the display of emotion. "Thanks, Doc." He firmly grasped her hand in gratitude before he went looking for the rest of his team. .
The crisis had passed. Janet felt a wave of fatigue wash over her. She could finally go home to Cassie and to her own bed. It had been an exhausting three days with very little sleep.
~ ~ ~
When Ross came back for his final checkup, she gave him the good news. He was released for full active duty. There was never any doubt in his mind that he would choose to return to the SGC. It was the only family he had. As he was leaving the examination room, he turned back. "Doc." The word hung in the air for a long pause while he searched for what to say. "Thank you." There weren't enough words to express his feelings.
~ ~ ~
Lieutenant Anthony Rossi stood stiffly in a posture of respect while they played Taps. He couldn't believe she was gone. There was always a chance that one of them wouldn't come back, but he never thought that it would or could be her. He had been walking around in a daze since he found out. Wisely, the General had called off all missions while they processed the latest events and dealt with the film crew.
Ross felt alone in his loss. He didn't think anyone else could understand what she did for him that night. She kept him alive just by her presence. He had never told anyone, but he'd been close to giving up - until a little angel in high-heeled pumps made it her job to be there just for him. Her steady voice and gentle touch helped him take in the next breath and the next. After she had fallen asleep, he kept breathing because he didn't want to disappoint her. Then he began to feel his breathing ease until he was able to fall asleep without fearing that he wouldn't wake up again. There was no doubt in his mind that he wouldn't have made it without her kindness and her care. God this loss hurt.
Major Carter was speaking now. Her words were broadcast over the base PA system for those who weren't privileged enough to be in the Gate room. She was listing off the names of other lives that Doctor Fraiser had saved. As he listened to the long list, Ross looked around surreptitiously. He saw his feelings mirrored in the eyes of everyone there. No one moved. No one spoke. There was nothing that could be said. She had made a difference to every single one of them. It didn't make the loss any easier, but he knew that he wasn't alone.
Fin
Back to Janet Alphabet Soup
Author: Neiths-Arrow
Pairing: None
Rating: PG13
Genre: angst, hurt-comfort
Spoilers: Up to Season 7
Summary: Janet from the perspective of an unknown junior officer.
Author's Notes: Written for sg_fignewton's Gen Fic Day - aka Alphabet Soup. This story has not been through the beta process, so I apologize for any glaring mistakes.
As she walked into the room, her eyes were drawn to the monitor. Despite the fact that knowing wouldn't make a difference, she noted that his heart rate was still rapid. A quick scan of his body showed that his skin color had an unhealthy blue tinge. The young patient's chest expanded and contracted with effort. Coupled with quick respirations, it was a classic symptom of a body starved for oxygen.
During SG-2's last mission, the lieutenant had inhaled a benzene-like gas from an alien plant that he had been studying. The gas had already destroyed a large portion of the oxygen-carrying red-blood cells and had damaged much of his bone marrow - the only mechanism that created new cells. The alien chemical created a permanent bond with hemoglobin, so the destruction continued unabated. Until it worked its way out of his system, the residual gas would continue to destroy red blood cells. Even though the destruction rate was slowing, the descent wasn't fast enough. As quickly as they transfused healthy cells, they were being destroyed. It was a battle to keep ahead of the disease. Though they were slowly gaining an advantage, the longer the battle raged, the weaker the young officer became. With less oxygen-carrying hemoglobin, the respiratory system attempted to build up the level of oxygen by increasing his respiration. The heart was pumping at a rapid rate to deliver the precious gas to starved cells as quickly as possible. In an effort to protect the brain, the body was starting to sacrifice non-essential parts by reducing blood flow to those areas.
And there was nothing they could do about it but wait. She had tried. Dr. Janet Fraiser was not under the mistaken impression that she could win every battle, but she was damned if she was going to stand by and do nothing. So they had increased his available oxygen, transfused fresh blood, placed him in a hyperbaric chamber, injected oxygen-sparing nutrient and drugs, and tried every experimental treatment at their disposal. She thought they had gained an edge, but the readings indicated otherwise. They had exhausted every avenue to help the young airman and it wasn't quite enough. It amounted to a battle of time - a battle that he was losing every minute that passed. All they could do now was to make him comfortable and wait. But she didn't do waiting very well; she was a woman of action.
Lieutenant Rossi shifted uncomfortably on the bed. His eyelids popped open as he swallowed convulsively and then gasped for air. She caught a quick flash of panic before he got his emotions under control. Fraiser turned her full attention to him and pushed her frustration down. Her feelings wouldn't do him any good. If he had any chance, it would lie with his ability to endure. So she approached and smiled gently. "Well, hello there! It's good to see that you've joined us, Lieutenant."
He attempted a smile, then gasped, "Ross. Name's. Ross." His breathy response made it sound like he was in the middle of running the last leg of a marathon.
Janet smiled. Her mentor had once told her, "You're treating the individual, my dear, not the officer." He had explained that providing treatment to the critically ill transcended rank and station. In order to kick in the body's natural healing abilities, it was important to get to the inner self and that self was not called Lieutenant.
Janet kept her features soft. "You keep hanging in there Ross."
He smiled at the use of his nickname. It made him feel like less of an object and more of a person. Ever since coming back from the planet, he had been carted from one room to the next and had had multiple medical procedures done. He could tell that they were doing everything they could, but it didn’t ease his fears. He didn’t like being out of control. To have the CMO treating him personally and calling him by name gave him a sense of relief. He had heard good things about this doctor, but now he was experiencing it for himself. He looked up at her with complete trust.
Janet’s heart broke at the look in his eye. She only wished she could do more. She leaned over and gently laid the back of her hand against his forehead. She could feel the heat generated by his efforts, even though his body wasn't releasing water through his pores; it was holding onto the precious oxygen that made up water molecules. She made a mental note to make sure his electrolyte balance wasn't off. A sharp alarm startled them both. She looked up to see that his oxygen saturation level had dipped. But, thankfully, they came back up.
"Keeps. Doing it." His expression was worried and he looked with question into her eyes.
His youth reminded her of Cassie. Janet fought a wave of emotion. Not now. Definitely not now. She could break down later. The last thing he needed was the discouragement of seeing his doctor break down. She forced a gentle smile. "Well, we can take care of that." She turned off the alarm. No matter what the level said, there was nothing they could do about it. His body was taking in all the oxygen that it could. He didn't need the extra jolts from the alarm; his adrenal system was already overtaxed.
She studied his face and saw the fear. It was time to engage the compassionate part of her job. Sometimes, all you could do was listen. And other times, all you could do was to sit by someone's side and provide comforting touches. They called it 'empathic concern' in her medical class. Basically, it meant to put yourself in the patient's shoes and then follow your heart. Right now, her heart told her that he sorely needed human contact.
She lost eye contact briefly as she pulled a chair to his bedside. She reached over with a wet towel to cool his brow. It wouldn't be long now. This battle had already been waging for two days already. He would either make it or his body would shut down. It couldn't keep this up for much longer. She would wait with him. He deserved that. His death would not be a pleasant one. Slow suffocation from internal sources was equally as arduous as if from a physical obstruction. He didn’t deserve this.
Janet offered her hand. He grasped it fiercely. There was no need for words. He had not moved his eyes from her face since he had awakened. "Doc." His breathing stuttered. It took a lot out of him to admit, "Scared." His hand was shaking in her grasp - from either fatigue or emotion,.
"Sh! Its okay." She leaned over and stroked his hair. He looked impossibly young. Had she been that age when she first enlisted? He had closed his eyes and seemed to take in her mothering care like a desiccated sponge absorbing water. His breathing smoothed as she continued in a soothing voice. "That's right. Focus on breathing. In. Out. Big breaths." She looked at his O2 sats to see that his level had improved slightly from when she first came into the room. "That's good. You're doing good." Any advantage was better than none.
She put herself in his shoes. He was helpless, surrounded by scary equipment, and he was alone. He was probably scared out of his mind - she knew that she would be. Janet continued in a soft voice. "Major Griff tells me that you're from Minnesota. Did you know that Colonel O'Neill is also from Minnesota?" She had his attention. Like most of the newer recruits, he was in awe of the higher-ranking officers. "He tells me that it's beautiful there." Ross smiled and nodded in agreement. Good. She was on the right track. "Did you have a favorite place to go there?"
He was lost in his memories for a while, but a small smile appeared fleetingly on his face. When he opened his eyes, they were shining slightly with emotion. "Lake. Quiet." The effort to speak had cost him.
She smiled in encouragement. "Ross, I want you to imagine that you're there." He closed his eyes. After a few minutes, he retained the smile. His breathing rate hadn't changed in any noticeable fashion, but his sats were remaining steady. She wasn't happy with the numbers, but they weren't getting worse. He was exhausted, but she didn't dare give him anything to help him sleep. Over the next two hours, she watched his breathing and prompted him to return to the peaceful lake whenever his sats went down. Sometimes she regaled him with lighter stories about personnel at the SGC.
Her vigilance was taking a toll on her. She had been working for almost two days straight with little naps when she could. Janet caught the eye of a passing nurse. Her patient was still. "Ross, I'm going to get a cup of coffee, but I'll be right back. Nurse Adams is going to sit with you until I come back."
She and Adams shared a look of understanding. Adams picked it up immediately and continued in a similar soothing voice. "Hi Ross. I'm the one who usually wakes people up to give them a sleeping pill."
Janet left in the middle of her routine. A little humor never failed to calm down a tense situation. As soon as she entered the hallway, Major Griff and the remaining members of SG-2 shot to their feet. "Doctor Fraiser. How is he?" They looked just as eager as they had earlier in the day.
Dr. Fraiser decided to hold off on nagging them for the moment. "He's holding on. Every minute that he holds on increases his chances of recovery. But I won't lie to you. It also 'decreases' his chances."
Griff looked down. "I should have been there." His face was stern with self reproach.
"Major. You did everything you could have possibly done - you got him back to the SGC." She hoped, for Griff's sake, that the young Lieutenant survived. She didn't think Griff could survive the loss of another person under his command. He took the losses personally and it took its toll. He already looked older than when she had first met him. Her guess was that he would retire rather than risk it again. She had seen it before.
Her voice got more stern. "Now. All of you. I don't want to see you here when I get back. You need to rest."
They looked at her with pleading eyes. "Can we see him?"
The strong sense of team hood was strong at the SGC. From what she had seen, SG-2 had quickly bonded. Maybe it would help the youngest member of the team. Besides, this might be their last chance to say good-bye. She relented, "I'll let you see him briefly. But then you all need to get some rest." They nodded in acquiescence but with a lighter attitude. She escorted them in and then went to get coffee.
When she came back, they were just leaving. Her patient looked relieved. She had made the right call. He seemed to be struggling harder to breath after the brief visit, so she pulled the chair closer to his bed. Her inner sense told her that tonight would be it. Either he would win or the disease would win. In either case, she was there for the long haul. She would wait with him.
Sometime around 3am, Janet fell asleep from sheer exhaustion. She had spent most of the night going between soothing her patient into calmer breathing, cooling his brow, and anxiously reading his monitor. She wasn't sure what woke her the next morning, but her head was resting on the bed. It took her sleepy brain a moment to decipher the clock from her sideways position. "5:58 am" flashed to "5:59 am." She jerked awake to look at her patient. He was deathly quiet. Her eyes flew to his monitor. His oxygen levels, while not perfect, had definitely improved to a level that was closer to normal. His breathing rate had calmed considerably, and he had lost the bluish tinge to his lips. She felt bad about disturbing him, but she needed to make sure he was doing well. She drew the blood herself. Apparently, he wasn't as unaware as she thought because he woke up as she withdrew the needle.
"How are you feeling?" She needed to check his mental status, so she used an open-ended question. She hoped the prolonged time of oxygen deprivation had not damaged his brain function. They would need to do a full series of CT scans to determine that.
He croaked. "Better." He looked at the clock. "You stayed with me." It was a statement of fact tinged with disbelief.
Janet didn't have a chance to brush off her role in his recovery because he was already asleep. She smiled in relief and thanks. They had won this battle.
She called the nurse over to watch over him while she got some rest. She trusted her staff to call her if there was any change in his status.
Janet then went out into the hall to call his teammates. She wasn't surprised to find that Major Griff was still there. He had apparently ordered his team to bed, but didn't feel he needed the same consideration. He frankly looked like crap. She thought for a moment that he probably looked like she felt. His face softened with relief when she released a smile. "It looks like he's going to be okay."
Griff wasn't the reserved type. For a minute, he looked like he was going to shout down the hallway, but he restrained himself lest the other marines witness the display of emotion. "Thanks, Doc." He firmly grasped her hand in gratitude before he went looking for the rest of his team. .
The crisis had passed. Janet felt a wave of fatigue wash over her. She could finally go home to Cassie and to her own bed. It had been an exhausting three days with very little sleep.
~ ~ ~
When Ross came back for his final checkup, she gave him the good news. He was released for full active duty. There was never any doubt in his mind that he would choose to return to the SGC. It was the only family he had. As he was leaving the examination room, he turned back. "Doc." The word hung in the air for a long pause while he searched for what to say. "Thank you." There weren't enough words to express his feelings.
~ ~ ~
Lieutenant Anthony Rossi stood stiffly in a posture of respect while they played Taps. He couldn't believe she was gone. There was always a chance that one of them wouldn't come back, but he never thought that it would or could be her. He had been walking around in a daze since he found out. Wisely, the General had called off all missions while they processed the latest events and dealt with the film crew.
Ross felt alone in his loss. He didn't think anyone else could understand what she did for him that night. She kept him alive just by her presence. He had never told anyone, but he'd been close to giving up - until a little angel in high-heeled pumps made it her job to be there just for him. Her steady voice and gentle touch helped him take in the next breath and the next. After she had fallen asleep, he kept breathing because he didn't want to disappoint her. Then he began to feel his breathing ease until he was able to fall asleep without fearing that he wouldn't wake up again. There was no doubt in his mind that he wouldn't have made it without her kindness and her care. God this loss hurt.
Major Carter was speaking now. Her words were broadcast over the base PA system for those who weren't privileged enough to be in the Gate room. She was listing off the names of other lives that Doctor Fraiser had saved. As he listened to the long list, Ross looked around surreptitiously. He saw his feelings mirrored in the eyes of everyone there. No one moved. No one spoke. There was nothing that could be said. She had made a difference to every single one of them. It didn't make the loss any easier, but he knew that he wasn't alone.
Fin
Back to Janet Alphabet Soup