What Is It With You People?
Who: Dr. Miranda Bailey
When: Friday, May 5 (about the same time as Where Everybody Knows Your Name)
Where: The Hospital
Invited: Anyone
Status: Complete
The hospital was quiet. Small as it was compared to Seattle Grace, it was mostly empty. Only two overnight patients. One young woman recuperating from an appendectomy and a fisherman who'd cut his hand badly with a gutting knife. The rest of the shift had been dedicated to dealing with assorted minor injuries. It wasn't the crush she'd become inured to back in the day, but for a population of only six thousand or so, they kept busy.
Oh, and fifty-seven year-old Douglas Granger was being given IV antibiotics every 12 hours to fight a particularly stubborn skin infection; a local bug that was proving to be one of Gamma World's most troublesome local organisms. If you had an intact dermis or a strong immune system it wasn't an issue, if you lacked both, any break in the skin risked a rapidly spreading skin infection. Doug Granger had hobbled in yesterday with a foot and ankle swollen and red. It was still swollen and still red, but the swelling had stopped spreading. Another day or two and he'd be good as new.
And the colony's supply of modern drugs would be a little more depleted. Miranda didn't like to think how things would be if they exhausted their supplies without finding replacements. But they'd cross that bridge when they came to it. You couldn't withhold treatment today because of what might happen tomorrow. Not until things were a lot more dire, anyhow.
Dr. Bailey looked up at the sound of voices. She saw movement through the Emergency Department doors, then they were pushed open and a dozen young men and women burst into the room. Bailey put down her pen and stood up. "What is it this time?" she demanded as she moved to meet them.
She recognized the kids--by sight if not by name. They were part of a martial arts class that provided her with a patient about once a month. The instructor, James Wu, was with them. He nodded to Dr. Bailey. "Good evening, Dr. Bailey," he said. He spoke perfectly fluent English but his accent betrayed the fact that it wasn't his native language. "This time," he said, with only the faintest emphasis on the words to indicate that he'd caught her meaning, "I believe it is a broken wrist. Cameron?"
One of the female students, a slender young woman with dark hair stepped out of the crowd. She was wearing jeans and a tank top. Both were stained with grass and dirt. Her arms and face were smudged as well. She held one wrist cradled between her breasts, clasped in the opposite hand. Only the tightness around her eyes betrayed any pain.
"Well, let's take a look," Bailey said to the girl. "Come sit over here." Cameron began to follow--along with all the other students. Bailey turned and glared at them. "Cameron and only Cameron," she said. "You all can wait in the waiting room. That's what it's there for."
"Yes, doctor," James Wu said. He turned his head and gathered up the rest of his students by eye. "We'll wait outside," he said to Bailey. Then, to the students, "Clearly you all need drilling on how to fall." They all moved toward the door again.
As they filed out Bailey led Cameron to an examination area. She asked a few basic questions while she examined Cameron's wrist. It did indeed appear to be broken. Bailey walked Cameron to the x-ray room. Once upon a planet Earth she'd have left Cameron to the x-ray tech. Now she took the x-rays herself and stayed with Cameron until the films were ready. She placed them on the light box and studied them.
"What does it tell you?" Cameron asked. It was the first thing she'd said other than to answer direct questions.
"It says that you have a simple Colles fracture of the wrist--a broken wrist."
"You knew that already."
"I knew it was broken, but not how badly. This," Bailey tapped her finger on the x-ray, "shows that the broken ends of the bone are close together. If they were separated or out of alignment, we'd have to manipulate them back into position. As it is, we just immobilize the wrist with a cast for a few weeks and you'll be fine."
"Six weeks?" Cameron sounded dismayed.
"You'll be getting thrown around again in no time," Bailey said.
When: Friday, May 5 (about the same time as Where Everybody Knows Your Name)
Where: The Hospital
Invited: Anyone
Status: Complete
The hospital was quiet. Small as it was compared to Seattle Grace, it was mostly empty. Only two overnight patients. One young woman recuperating from an appendectomy and a fisherman who'd cut his hand badly with a gutting knife. The rest of the shift had been dedicated to dealing with assorted minor injuries. It wasn't the crush she'd become inured to back in the day, but for a population of only six thousand or so, they kept busy.
Oh, and fifty-seven year-old Douglas Granger was being given IV antibiotics every 12 hours to fight a particularly stubborn skin infection; a local bug that was proving to be one of Gamma World's most troublesome local organisms. If you had an intact dermis or a strong immune system it wasn't an issue, if you lacked both, any break in the skin risked a rapidly spreading skin infection. Doug Granger had hobbled in yesterday with a foot and ankle swollen and red. It was still swollen and still red, but the swelling had stopped spreading. Another day or two and he'd be good as new.
And the colony's supply of modern drugs would be a little more depleted. Miranda didn't like to think how things would be if they exhausted their supplies without finding replacements. But they'd cross that bridge when they came to it. You couldn't withhold treatment today because of what might happen tomorrow. Not until things were a lot more dire, anyhow.
Dr. Bailey looked up at the sound of voices. She saw movement through the Emergency Department doors, then they were pushed open and a dozen young men and women burst into the room. Bailey put down her pen and stood up. "What is it this time?" she demanded as she moved to meet them.
She recognized the kids--by sight if not by name. They were part of a martial arts class that provided her with a patient about once a month. The instructor, James Wu, was with them. He nodded to Dr. Bailey. "Good evening, Dr. Bailey," he said. He spoke perfectly fluent English but his accent betrayed the fact that it wasn't his native language. "This time," he said, with only the faintest emphasis on the words to indicate that he'd caught her meaning, "I believe it is a broken wrist. Cameron?"
One of the female students, a slender young woman with dark hair stepped out of the crowd. She was wearing jeans and a tank top. Both were stained with grass and dirt. Her arms and face were smudged as well. She held one wrist cradled between her breasts, clasped in the opposite hand. Only the tightness around her eyes betrayed any pain.
"Well, let's take a look," Bailey said to the girl. "Come sit over here." Cameron began to follow--along with all the other students. Bailey turned and glared at them. "Cameron and only Cameron," she said. "You all can wait in the waiting room. That's what it's there for."
"Yes, doctor," James Wu said. He turned his head and gathered up the rest of his students by eye. "We'll wait outside," he said to Bailey. Then, to the students, "Clearly you all need drilling on how to fall." They all moved toward the door again.
As they filed out Bailey led Cameron to an examination area. She asked a few basic questions while she examined Cameron's wrist. It did indeed appear to be broken. Bailey walked Cameron to the x-ray room. Once upon a planet Earth she'd have left Cameron to the x-ray tech. Now she took the x-rays herself and stayed with Cameron until the films were ready. She placed them on the light box and studied them.
"What does it tell you?" Cameron asked. It was the first thing she'd said other than to answer direct questions.
"It says that you have a simple Colles fracture of the wrist--a broken wrist."
"You knew that already."
"I knew it was broken, but not how badly. This," Bailey tapped her finger on the x-ray, "shows that the broken ends of the bone are close together. If they were separated or out of alignment, we'd have to manipulate them back into position. As it is, we just immobilize the wrist with a cast for a few weeks and you'll be fine."
"Six weeks?" Cameron sounded dismayed.
"You'll be getting thrown around again in no time," Bailey said.