Fried Chicken
Fried Chicken and Purple Elephants
Summary: Desusa is… awakened. D'Artanion threats the injured
Date: 16 BCH
Related Logs: None
Players:
Zaharis..D'Artanion..Rooster..Desusa..

Setting: Genesis's Sickbay/ Recovery Ward

Several days have passed
since the Pandor Incident and activity in sick bay has slowed from mass coordinated near hysteria to a dull roar. Most of the patients have been moved to Recovery or the morgue. More sent to the morgue than anyone would have wished, but some things just are what they are. D'Artanion has spent all of her time up here where she can lend a hand and look out for the Marines. She was even granted a cot in one of the closets so she did not have to haul her ass down to Marine-land and back up to Navy-territory. Still, it has been a bit of a stint and all the doctors and nurses are showing signs of wear around the edges. D'Artanion comes out of a closet, as refreshed as three or so hours can make a body. Then again, she is a Marine and a medic. She is more accustomed to crappy sleep schedules than some.

Heralded by the sound of marching, Rooster peels off from a pair of marines on patrol and steps through into the sickbay, the note from Dart clutched in his hand. Even dressed in full duty gear, the big Gunny still manages to look ragged around the edges, the marines also having drilled themselves silly over the past few days, "Reporting for doctoring," he says as he snaps to attention, "I mean, uhh.. if you've got time there, I know you're busy." ll around.

The marine captain is still fast asleep. Probably drugged-up to his nostrils on morpha. Purple elephants dancing all around.

D'Artanion has a fondness for purple elephants, at least in proper doses and occasions. She pauses to glance at the door as someone enters and grins when she sees who it is. This is the only time a medic gets to order around a superior and it never gets old. Ever. Luckily for Rooster, the woman is a kind soul, most of the time, "Hey, Gunny. Drop the gear over by the wall there and come take a seat. I need to check Desusa's vitals and send Captain Gaelan another report. Oh, also? Shed the shirt. I'll get the equipment I'll need in just a sec."

Doing as hes told, Rooster grabs a seat, slings down his kitbag and unbuttons his shirt, life in the marines having long since killed any modesty the man may have had. The shirt gets folded, placed on top of the bag and Rooster sits there, half naked, waiting for his turn, "Right you are, Sarge."

Desusa remains perfectly still, and even though, the place smells like a second-rate, fried chicken joint, he still breathes easy.

D'Artanion nods and turns to take readings from Desusa's machines. Yup. The man is still alive and doing fine. She takes a moment to check his pupil reaction and all that good stuff. Poor guy, being poked and prodded by someone he's never met… Ah well. Such is the life of the wounded. Making a few notes, she leaves his bedside and walks to a counter. Setting her handheld down, she does the glove-change shimmy, ending up with one used pair in the receptical and a clean pair on. "Okay, Gunny. Let's see the shoulder. With luck, this won't take but a minute. We'll see."

Leaning forward to let D'Artanion at his shoulder (which, thankfully just seems to be a quick fix job, muscle strain that hasn't quite healed properly), Rooster finds himself peering over at the bedridden Desusa, "The Captain there pulling through all right?" he asks after a few moments, "Messy business where we found him."

Emerging from the long corridors to the critical care unit is Zaharis, scribbling his pen over the bottom of someone's chart. He stretches his arm over a gurney being wheeled by, handing off the medication order to one of their nurses. His path starts him through the recovery ward and the long rows of beds still bearing Marine in various shades of pain and drugged-up states.

Beep. Beep. That monitor thingie attacked to Desusa's body starts 'beep', cause that what it does. One sleepy eye slowly cracks open and then the other. BBBRAAAIIINNNSSSS! "Uh… please… no more…spinning the bed," begs Desusa.

D'Artanion glances over at the Captain and chuckles, the sound warm and low. "He's a brick wall, Rooster. He'll be just fine." There is a hint of relief in the medic's tone. She looks back to the half nekked man sitting on the chair in front of her. "K. Hold still." She begins by running her fingers over the man's shoulder, prodding a bit here and there, "Tell me where it hurts, please." As Desusa speaks, she glances over briefly, "Heya, Cap. Welcome back to the land of the semi-conscious." Then, her attention shifts entirely to the job at hand.

"Excellent-ow-it'd have been a shame-" Rooster says, in between grimacing at the prodding, holding stock still, "One of the control consoles fell on him, hardly a heroic way out." he explains, grinning. When Zaharis appears and Desusa stirs, the Gunny shoots the former a "Doc." and stops talking about the latter, after all, its not a sergeant's place to comment.

Zaharis rounds closer to Desusa's bed after checking on those up from him. The CMO raises a dark eyebrow at the clump of Marines, especially at one being sitting and half-nekkid. "What's going on here?"

After doing his part as a DJ turn-table, Desusa brings a hand over his face and rubs it slowly, "Where the hades am I?" He cranes his head up slowly to get a better look, Zaharis is the first he studies. Lucky bastard. "Doctor, yes?"

D'Artanion tries not to wince in sympathy when the Gunny winces, and is mostly successful. When she finishes the examination of the joint, she steps back and nods to the man, "Please rotate your arm slowly and tell me when it starts to bother you." As Zaharis speaks, she glances back, a quick smile given the man, "Hey, Doc. Rooster's got a shoulder that needed attention. Said I'd give it a once over to see if it needs someone with more training or experience to handle it." She flickers a glance at Desusa, but won't comment as this is Navy-territory and she already gave the man a welcome back, even if he didn't hear it. Turning back to Rooster, she winces and speaks softly, "No kidding… Glad he's as resiliant as he is."

"Yes, ma'am," Rooster says, with not just the slightest edge of sarcasm, and rotates his arm, getting it almost all the way around before stopping, "There." Then, flicking a salute at Zaharis with the other hand, "Ordered medical check-up, Sir, they're worried about my shoulder," he adds, confirming Dart's explanation, "Didn't want to get in the way of the proper wounded."

Zaharis smirks at Desusa, glancing down at the blue scrubs he's wearing and then back at the man. "You think?" He sets a hand on Desusa's bedrail, nodding. "Captain Jesse Zaharis, chief medical officer. You're on the Battlestar Genesis, in Sickbay. You took a damn good knock to the head two days ago and have been in and out. We've been waiting for you to come round." He looks back at Rooster, finally seeing the man's face. "Ah, Cox. Well and good." He looks at D'artanion and nods. "Went through intake, got a chart set up for him?"

Desusa listens to Z's detail of his status and nods. "Thanks for the debrief, Captain Zaharis." He then tries to sit up and manages to do so with a few grunts o' pain. "Gods, I never liked the after taste of morpha." He then looks back to where D and R and nesting a nods to them, "Morning or evening. SS and Gunny," greets Desusa. Yes. The captain's eyes always go for the pips on military people. It's a habit.

D'Artanion nods to Zaharis' query, though she does not take her eyes off of Rooster's movement, "Had one've your folk handle that part, Cap since I don't have the authority to do it." She lifts the chart sitting next to Rooster and sort of waves it, then nods and flips it open, "I don't think it's rotator cuff. The pain on rotation is in the wrong place. That leaves ligament damage or muscle strain that you are not taking care of. My assessment is the latter." Turning, she smiles at Zaharis, "Would you please take a look, Doc? If you have the time?" A hint of mischief touches the woman's gaze and she nods to Desusa, "Afternoon, Cap."

"Take it slow, Cap," Zaharis tells Desusa. He pulls a small penlight from his Genesis-emblazoned front pocket. "You've got two busted ribs and had yourself a nice concussion. Look at me?" Click, penlight on. "Describe how you're feeling for me, would you? Any headache, nausea, dizziness?" A slight nod goes to D'artanion at the Rooster issue. "Sure, Sarge."

Nodding along with the medic, Rooster is a good patient, pretending to understand what the hell is being said, but waiting for the "this is what you should do" part. "Hello, Sir," he replies to Desusa, "Are you feeling up to chatting to my CO? I'm sure he has questions about the-" and then Rooster stops whilst Zaharis fires in with more important medical questions.

Desusa ahhs at D'Artanion before opening his eyes wide for Zaharis to do his thing. "My taste buds are in suffering, Captain, but aside from the slight pain on my chest from the dented ribs, I feel no other pain." Marine here. Hear me play macho and stuff. "I am feeling perfectly fine for a chat, Gunnery Sergeant. fill free to work my schedule, since I don’t think I am leaving this gurney any time soon."

D'Artanion just barely stifles a grin at Rooster's nodding. She does recognize that look and understands it. She crosses her arms before her and turns to lean a hip on a nearby counter as she watches Zaharis go through his routine, "Thanks." As Rooster is given a new and different duty, she grins up at him, but makes no comment lest the joy be spread around. As Zaharis asks his questions, D'Artanion's attention returns to the pair yonder. The answers are noted and a brow rises slowly. Speaking softly to Rooster, she nods toward Desusa, "Told you. The man's a brick wall."

Zaharis flickers the penlight from Desusa's left eye to right and back, watching the man's pupils. "You know…when the doctor doesn't buy your answers following a severe head injury, it just forces us to do lengthy tests on our own. Tends to extend your stay." Click and off goes the penlight, tucked away. He slides Desusa's chart off the side of the bed, glancing at it. "What's the last thing you remember before waking up here, Cap?"

"Right you are, Sir, I'll pass the message on," Rooster says to Desusa, before looking back at D'Artanion, "He's a marine, its whats to be expected. Feel sort of guilty whining about the shoulder, now." he replies to the staff sergeant in the same hushed tone.
:smiles a bit and nods to Z, "The nurse there," points to a random medical gal, "said I was complaining about dizziness and shortness of breath a while back, but maybe she just like my bald head stuck in here, Captain." There. The CMO got his confession. Darn doctors. He then spies a nearby glass filled with cold water and reaches out for it with a slight groan, "Am I cleared for this, Captain," he askes politely at Z. For a marine, the Cappy has a somewhat soft voice. Maybe too much screaming at recruits has worn it down.

Desusa smiles a bit and nods to Z, "The nurse there," points to a random medical gal, "said I was complaining about dizziness and shortness of breath a while back, but maybe she just like my bald head stuck in here, Captain." There. The CMO got his confession. Darn doctors. He then spies a nearby glass filled with cold water and reaches out for it with a slight groan, "Am I cleared for this, Captain," he asks politely at Z. For a marine, the Cappy has a somewhat soft voice. Maybe too much screaming at recruits has worn it down.

D'Artanion chuckles softly, the sound kept low. She shakes her head at Rooster, her voice still quiet, "Nah. Better to get it fixed early. Crap like that can get worse over time otherwise. Don't wanna lose the use'f the arm when it's critical." She flickers Rooster a smile, though it is a hair strained. "Especially if the fix's easy. It's a personal beef of mine when people leave things until something small turns into something major. Always have a bit more respect for folk who recognize that their body's important and pain's a warning that things aren't working the way they should. You? Did good on that score." A nod and she turns back to watch Zaharis with Desusa. Always looking to learn, this one.

"Last thing i recall, was handing Mayor Dally the rotation roster for marine detail in CIC," Desusa adds to Zaharis query, he takes a small whiff of the water. not cleared for it yet.

Zaharis smiles at Desusa and nods to the water glass. "Go ahead, so long as you're not nauseous. If you throw it back up? It is -on-." His stylus scribbles across the chart, recording Desusa's answer to the memory question to the letter. "Little dizziness is to be expected. If you're still feeling it in an hour or two, you need to let us know. Shortness of breath's likely the ribs, but we'll be watching it. You're lucky, no skull fractures. You should be out of here very soon."

Not bothering to correct D'Artanion, Rooster nods and looks down for a half second, "Right, well, I'll come see you if there’s anything else, eh?" he says with a light chuckle, "I'd best dash back to duty soon though, left my lads drilling.. by now they'll be trading smokes and porn."

Desusa nods to Zaharis, "I will. And I am happy that the gods where gracious enought ot give me a hard head, Captain." The marine does show those pearly whites of his before taking a measured drink of water. Ahhh. He looks back to the marine duo and directs a question their way, "Do any of you know if the galley here serves hamburgers?" Yes. That's the sort of questions all marines should be asking themselves this days. It's in the manual. "i might have issues having one brought over from the Pandora." He assumes it's still floating around nearby.

D'Artanion does not need correcting. In her opinion, anyway. "Hold up there, Gunny. Doc said he'd check the shoulder and you've already been checked in. As of that moment, only one of the navy docs can release you for duty. Sorry. Might's well relax'n make the best of it." She nods over toward Desusa, "You can bring 'em word about the Cap there. That'll be good news to spread around. We need all of that we can get." She turns as the Captain's query registers, "Dunno, Cap, but I'll go check if you're cleared for solid. Gunny's kinda stuck for now."

With a mock sigh, Rooster sits back in the chair, getting comfy, "Suppose I'm stuck then," he says, before smiling and looking around, ever the good and patient uhh, patient.

Zaharis slides Desusa's chart away after a few more notes. He steps over towards Rooster and D'art, glancing at the man's shoulder. "Give me your hand, Gunny. I'm going to move your arm around a little, just like Sarge did. Speak up when it hurts." His dark eyes go back to Desusa. These are always the moments any medical staff dislikes. "Captain," he starts carefully but formally. They're military, they can take it. "You and your boys are over here because there was an incident on the Pandora. Explosions. I've got the incident down here. I think you need to take a look at it."

Desusa brings a hand up slowly and shakes his head at D, "No need to check right now, Staff Sergeant. I just wanted to know if it's on the mess's rotations, that's all." He smiles a bit more, "I tend to believe that a ship's food supply is measured by the type of burgers it serves. Silly quirk o'mine, Sergeant." He looks back to Z and stares at the man for a bit, trying to recollect the events of two days ago. He nods. "Well, I just had a DRAIDS monitor slammed into me, Captain. Guess my nuggin' falls into relapses." He runs his eyes a bit and shakes his head. Then, he looks back towards Rooster, "Who's your CO, Gunnery Sergeant?"

D'Artanion chuckles at Rooster and nods as she pushes from the counter where she was leaning. This is more to get out of Zaharis' way than anything else. She drifts a bit over toward Desusa's bed rather than head for the cafeteria. The man has not yet been cleared for solid foods, so the medic does not head off to procure some. She glances at the monitors hooked to the man, and while she tries not to show her proprietary feelings, she can't help it. "A'right, Captain. I'll check inna bit." When Desusa queries Rooster, the woman falls silent, and turns to once more watch Zaharis at work.

"Sir, yes Sir," Rooster replies, offering his hand to Zaharis and doing just as the doctor ordered, seems to be only a few degrees of motion giving him hassle, hardly anything, really, "Captain Gaelan, Sir. He will be around to give you a debriefing also, Sir, once he knows you're up." the Gunny adds to Desusa.

"Not a ligament tear," Zaharis says finally, after testing the range of motion of Rooster's arm. "Sarge nailed it - looks like you just strained it, Gunny. Going to pack you off with some mild painkiller, cold pack, and an ace bandage to hold it there. Ice it 20 minutes every hour while you're awake today. No using the arm till tomorrow morning, or you're just going to screw yourself for later. And you don't want to do that, trust me." He looks back at Desusa. "Nah, you're fine. Listen, I need to get back to things, but I'll get you over something to fill in the gaps in the meantime, alright? Take it easy tonight." He looks at D'art then, making a quick note on Rooster's chart and handing it to her. "Pass that on to a nurse, they'll get Cox his stuff. He's clear to go."

Desusa nods to Rooster and rubs his chin, "Gaelan, eh?" He smirks evilly and shakes his head. "Alright, be sure to let him no am up, Gunny." He then loo over to D and shoots a question her way, "Think you can scrounge up a list of casualties, Sergeant? I want to know how bad my company was hit." Zaha's words seemed to have kicked Desusa's marine instinct to get back on the saddle as quick as possible. He nods to the CMO and gives him a thumbs up, "Fully cooperational here, Captain."

D'Artanion nods as her diagnosis is confirmed. "Sure thing, Doc. Thank you." Taking the chart from him, she starts scouting for a nurse when Desusa speaks to her. Her gaze lowers to the man and she nods, "Yes, sir, Captain. I am sure I can scare one up." Her glance lifts to Zaharis for permission, however. It is still Navy territory.

Zaharis just nods to D'art. "Go ahead, Sarge." Man should know how many he's lost. And with that he's out, back to work.

Rooster stands and shoots off two quick salutes, "Thank you, Doc," and "Right away, Sir!" and, grabbing up his shirt and slipping it on, prepares to head back to duty. "Remember I owe you a workout, D'Artanion," he says with a smile to the other sergeant, before dashing off.

Desusa is pleased to know the CMO cleared the list too, "I'll just rest here for a bit, Sergeant." He lays back down and as soon as his head hits the pillow, he's out.

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