[Sickbay] [Closed--Sorry!]
Sam closed out of the last of the files and slumped back in the remarkably uncomfortable chair. His whole body was stiff from so much time seated at the terminal just entering data and checking over records. What Doctor McCoy had left him with was a backlog of several months of medical files. It surprised him that no bureaucrat from Starfleet command had seen fit to harass them about it. The files seemed to suggest that the ship was also populated by hypochondriacs if the repetition of names was to be believed.
The chair was comfortable if he slumped over like this, but Sam needed to get out of Sickbay and go somewhere with comfortable chairs, possibly even a couch. It was a dream he was capable of achieving for once.
He gathered the padds he had been working on and wandered back towards the doctor’s office. Sam punched in the code and entered McCoy’s office to return the padds and get the hell out of Sickbay.
The chair was comfortable if he slumped over like this, but Sam needed to get out of Sickbay and go somewhere with comfortable chairs, possibly even a couch. It was a dream he was capable of achieving for once.
He gathered the padds he had been working on and wandered back towards the doctor’s office. Sam punched in the code and entered McCoy’s office to return the padds and get the hell out of Sickbay.