Preparation by Rachael Sabotini (Blood Challenge)
Challenge: Blood
Title: Preparation
Author: Rachael Sabotini
Summary: People get careless under stress
Gen, 390 words
Many thanks to elynross for the very last minute beta. No money made, no harm intended. All mistakes are my own. I just had to write something before the challenge passed.
Preparation
Carson stripped off his operating gown, ignoring the blood stains. They ignored so much now, so many tiny details that no one had time to follow up on. A lot of small injuries had to be treated as people got careless under stress; this one was simply a deep cut from a kitchen knife that slipped, leaving Anderson with twelve stitches.
Not that Carson had any right to complain. Dr. Heightmeyer had a busy schedule, as well, what with the Wraith and all, and anxiety disorders ran rampant throughout Atlantis; Dr. McKay wasn't the only one living solely on power bars.
He would have supplied everyone with anti-depressants if he thought it would help, but most of them took too long to kick in, and they just didn't have the time. He might even have prescribed some for himself, truth be told, but it wasn't his preferred method of self-medication.
Some days he felt the absence of a rich, peaty malt just a bit too much, and he was glad there were no substitutes here in Atlantis.
No, Dr. Heightmeyer had the unenviable chore of keeping the group on-task and making sure there weren't any derailments, while McKay and Zelenka kept the city running, and Major Sheppard and Dr. Weir made plans for the city's evacuation.
Carson did as best he could, making sure there were bandages, a good supply of blood, antibiotics, and all the herbal remedies he'd had time to investigate to be certain they would help -- blood coagulators and thinners, herbs that sped healing and reduced the risk of infection, those that sped the heart and slowed it.
He also re-checked all of the Ancient equipment he had access to, making sure everything was on and ready to be used. The machines whispered to him as he touched them, telling him what they could do -- this one could be used as a dialysis machine if someone's kidneys failed, while that one said that it could grow new tissue if given some sample cells -- each one almost eager to be put into use. He didn't worry about this equipment the way he had the chair or the jumper; these machines felt like extensions of his own body, and they were desperate to be used, desperate for his touch.
Carson knew they would be needed soon enough.
Title: Preparation
Author: Rachael Sabotini
Summary: People get careless under stress
Gen, 390 words
Many thanks to elynross for the very last minute beta. No money made, no harm intended. All mistakes are my own. I just had to write something before the challenge passed.
Preparation
Carson stripped off his operating gown, ignoring the blood stains. They ignored so much now, so many tiny details that no one had time to follow up on. A lot of small injuries had to be treated as people got careless under stress; this one was simply a deep cut from a kitchen knife that slipped, leaving Anderson with twelve stitches.
Not that Carson had any right to complain. Dr. Heightmeyer had a busy schedule, as well, what with the Wraith and all, and anxiety disorders ran rampant throughout Atlantis; Dr. McKay wasn't the only one living solely on power bars.
He would have supplied everyone with anti-depressants if he thought it would help, but most of them took too long to kick in, and they just didn't have the time. He might even have prescribed some for himself, truth be told, but it wasn't his preferred method of self-medication.
Some days he felt the absence of a rich, peaty malt just a bit too much, and he was glad there were no substitutes here in Atlantis.
No, Dr. Heightmeyer had the unenviable chore of keeping the group on-task and making sure there weren't any derailments, while McKay and Zelenka kept the city running, and Major Sheppard and Dr. Weir made plans for the city's evacuation.
Carson did as best he could, making sure there were bandages, a good supply of blood, antibiotics, and all the herbal remedies he'd had time to investigate to be certain they would help -- blood coagulators and thinners, herbs that sped healing and reduced the risk of infection, those that sped the heart and slowed it.
He also re-checked all of the Ancient equipment he had access to, making sure everything was on and ready to be used. The machines whispered to him as he touched them, telling him what they could do -- this one could be used as a dialysis machine if someone's kidneys failed, while that one said that it could grow new tissue if given some sample cells -- each one almost eager to be put into use. He didn't worry about this equipment the way he had the chair or the jumper; these machines felt like extensions of his own body, and they were desperate to be used, desperate for his touch.
Carson knew they would be needed soon enough.