The Doctor Is In
The Doctor Is In
Summary: Zaharis is still recovering in Sickbay. Melia drops by and gains a teacher. Craven then takes a turn with some unexpected news.
Date: 74 ACH
Related Logs: Professional Interest, Boarded

Recovery Ward Genesis - Deck 13
74 ACH 23817 Souls

This is a large room holding over twenty bed stations for patients to recover after having treatment severe enough that they cannot immediately return to duty. Each station has various connections for medical equipment, a bed with collapsible railings, fold out table, adjustable positions and a privacy curtain.

Melia comes in from Sickbay.
Melia has arrived.

It's morning in the recovery ward, and someone is seemingly trying to dampen her normal bounciness in an effort to make sure none of the patients are disturbed. She darts, albiet at a slower pace, from spot to spot, taking care of the little things that nurses need taken care of. Not necessarily scut work, but she's all about giving them time to handle the more important details - in exchange for being allowed to watch. Now it's time to hit Zaharis' area. Looks like a cup of fresh water - straw included - is in order.

Fifth day. Zaharis is in bed, gauze covering over the burns on his back, shoulder and the left side of his face just recently changed. His rolling table is right by his bed and there's a laptop open and on beside it, the tray lowered a bit. His left elbow is resting against the mattress, and he has his fingers against the touchpad, scrolling through something on the screen. His right shoulder's still in its protective brace, held steady while it repairs itself from being dislocated.

Ah, he's awake! "Morning, Major," Mellie chirps quietly - not ready to put the water down on the table so near the laptop. "Water delivery time ahead of the nurse coming over with lunchtime meds."

Zaharis pushes down on the enter key with his ring finger, then lets his hand relax, curling beside the touchpad. "P-…" Frog in throat. He coughs, clearing his throat. "Sorry. PO, that's what I meant." His eyes move, looking at water. Looking at hands. Are they carrying anything else? Things he can look at, read, smell, besides these walls and his own bandages. "Water sounds good."

There is a book tucked under one arm, carefully - mostly hidden from the nurses. "Sip," she says, holding the cup out, straw toward him. "Careful, it's fairly cold." Her eyes crinkle at the corners, smile warm as she studies him.

Zaharis looks at the straw and smirks. "I can hold it, it's okay." He shifts his left arm, opening up his fingers for the cup. Still slow, still stiff. Still painful.

Oh, she clearly wants to say something, wants to push the issue, but she doesn't. The cup is held a little closer to his fingers and she remains silent until he's holding it. "I found something you might enjoy reading. There were no medical journals to be had where I was looking, but a book of fables fell into my hands." Fell, right. There's likely a Marine searching his bunk going WTF?

Zaharis closes his hand around the cup. He takes two small sips from the straw and lets the cup rest against his chest. "Fables?"

"Stories," she says quietly. "Fairy tales with messages behind them." Her nose crinkles cutely. "The types of stories my mother used to tell, the ones that had "meaning" behind them, cautionary tales, some of them." The book gets untucked and she quirks a brow slightly. "In the drawer?"

Zaharis smirks. "Yes, I know what a fable is." He tilts his chin towards the book. "I was just surprised anyone had a book of them up here. On the table is fine. I can't get into the drawer quite yet."

"You'd be surprised at what people have," Mellie says with a wry grin. Onto the table it gets tucked, avoiding the laptop. "How about I put a string on the drawer for you and leave it dangling over the rail? That'll let you pull the drawer open and it can be nudged shut."

Zaharis hehs. "No, it's a matter of my shoulder. I can't make that motion with it yet, pulling like that. But I should be able to soon with all this therapy. The table's fine, I can reach it there." He sounds satisfied with the compromise. "How have you been?"

Melia starts to bustle a little around the bed, tidying, fixing the covers over his feet - something, anything, to keep busy. "Keeping out of trouble," she replies, her stock answer, complete with grin. "No assassination attempts this week, no attempted murders, no trippings, hittings or heartbreaks. I count it as a good week so far." A week that's only just begun. "Is there anything I can get for you? Anything you need or want? How're YOU doing, sir?"

"I'm okay," Zaharis says. The answer isn't stock. He had to take a few seconds to figure if he believed it enough to say it. "You know, as okay as okay gets with burns. This high-calorie soft foods diet I'm sure is the envy of every pregnant woman that ever was. Never thought I'd get sick of ice cream and pudding and all that in just two days."

"Mmmm, pudding," Mellie says with an impish smile. "I'll see if maybe they can fix you some savory ice cream instead," she teases. "I can only imagine that eel pudding with red algae ice cream would be a very interesting taste sensation." The blankets get tucked around his feet before she's coming up along the other side. "Is there anything I can bring by? Sickbay seems to have dropped right back into normal again - though everyone's worried about you."

"Sula had enough real ice cream that I think we'll be okay," Zaharis lifts the cup to take another sip of water. "No, I'm alright. Sickbay being normal is the best thing that could be happening to it. And to me." He glances at his laptop and what he was scrolling through. "I'd been looking through all this old data I had. Someone's syllabus of college chemistry from an old training course. I don't know, might help keep me sane if I had someone to test out teaching it to while I'm lying here."

Mellie quirks a brow at him, head tilting to the side. "Well, I know of one or two people who might be interested in chemistry lessons," she murmurs. "Assuming the teacher wasn't over-extending himself and feeling up to it." There's a wry little smile on her lips. "Shall I make arrangements?"

"The teacher," Zaharis answers, with a tired smile, "Is bored shitless and is really using the student for the selfish purposes of having something to concentrate on other than pain. So if the student doesn't mind being used in such horrible fashion then I'd say yeah…arrangements would be just fine."

A hip cocks against the side of his bed, gently, and arms fold over her abdomen. "Is this where I run off to grab a pen and paper, or will I have the chance to look over the lesson at a later date," she asks, eyes twinkling a little. "As for the student, well, she's more than happy to be used so horribly."

"This is where I forward this first part to you," Zaharis sets the cup on his table and brushes his fingers over his laptop's touchpad. "It's a brushup on the math that we're going to need. Scientific notation, significant figures, and dimensional analysis. Stuff you did in high school but everyone could stand to review. There's a couple problems to solve. Read it over, do the problems, bring them back so I can see. Then we can get into the fun stuff." Hard to tell if that was wry or if he really is enough of a nerd that it is fun.

Melia glances at the laptop screen for the first time, then makes a quiet sound in the back of her throat. It's not quite distress. "I'll get to it as soon as I'm off duty this evening and will have the, ah, homework back to you in the morning." If she's a little paler, it must be an illusion. She is, however, grinning.

"It's easier than it looks," Zaharis says, pulling his hand back and resting it down on his chest. "Nothing worse than high school math, I promise. If you get stuck just bring it in and we'll work through it."

"Maths really weren't my strong suit," she admits, tilting her head to study the screen. "I was more interested in other subjects, but I'm looking forward to trying it again." Yes, there is the excitement in her voice. "To be honest, I really AM looking forward to it. I didn't think I would be."

"It can be intimidating." The gauze on Zaharis' face moves when he smiles. "But I've always believed it's not the material itself that's the problem, it's how it's presented. And our own attitudes. I think that if you really are looking foward to it, and excited about it, you'll shock yourself at how simple it is."

Melia laughs quietly, dipping her head. "I've heard stories about different chemistry experiments that can be conducted to help illustrate principles. I, ah, found a little vinegar and baking soda for when we get to that section." For a moment, she nibbles on her lower lip.

"Classic," Zaharis replies. "Did you know that's actually deceptively simple? That there are two reactions happening in quick succession?"

She leans in a bit to peer at the screen again, then cocks her head to the side. "Really? It seems…more complicated than that. I've only seen it once, and it…well, to a ten year old, it seemed like magic."

"Well, I'll tell you a secret," Zaharis chuckles under his breath. "Sometimes I'm still fascinated by it, and I'm 36."

Melia blinks at him for a moment, then grins, laughing softly. "Oh, good. It's not just me," she says, eyes twinkling. "So, when I reach that chapter and experiment, you wouldn't mind being around when I did it?"

Zaharis replies, "I wouldn't mind. I should be on my feet before we even finish classification of matter. After all, someone's going to have to explain to command why there's a medic building a vinegar-baking soda volcano in the mess hall."

Melia's face probably wouldn't have lit up anymore if he told her they were putting down on a planet with the 13th Tribe. "Really? Truly? I can make the volcano?" Yep, she's thrilled, he absolutely made her day.

"If you keep up with your homework," Zaharis raps the back of his knuckles against his laptop frame. "I might be able to arrange it."

Melia laughs softly and dips her head. "That's good incentive," she replies, nodding so hard her curls bounce. "I promise to turn the homework in tomorrow. That gives me tonight to study it and make sure it's right."

"Perfect." Zaharis smiles a little. "Don't rush. Not like you don't know where to find me if you need to ask anything."

"Captive audience," she teases him gently. "You look like you could do with closing your eyes for a few minutes before the nursing staff pokes and prods you awake again. Is there anything I can get you before I head off?"

"No, I'm alright." Zaharis clears his throat quietly. "The nurses don't let me get away with silly things like…'wanting something'." A slight smile, his eyes drifting partway closed. Despite the smile, he's still pale, swollen, and the tension in his body betrays plenty of pain. "Thank you."

Mellie can't help herself. Against regs or not, she reaches out to touch an unbandage part of his hand or arm, probably right side. The touch is very light, very gentle. "Get some rest," the medic says softly. "I'll come back later this evening and we can work on homework." She can't keep the worry out of her voice, but it's tempered.

"Good, I'll look forward to it." Zaharis either doesn't notice she's touching him or doesn't object to it. His eyes stay closed. "Try and have some fun with it."

"I will," she says with a soft laugh. Then she, and the touch, are gone.

Craven comes in from Sickbay.
Craven has arrived.

Melia is off to one side, making beds.

The entryway to the Recovery Ward opens, allowing Craven to make his way into view. There's no clipboard in his hand this time, and he's clad in his off-duties, signifing he's obviously here for something of a personal nature.

Zaharis is also in his off-duties, if you want to call a hospital gown and gazue that. Unlike usually, where you have to run all over Sickbay to find the CMO, these days he's pretty easy to pin down.

Moving along the rows of beds, Craven slows only as he begins to near Zaharis' bed. There's a quick glance towards his chart, a faint cringe as he realizes he's arrived after all the therapy and then he's looking towards the CMO, "You awake, boss?"

Zaharis opens his eyes, his head slowly rolling on the pillow towards the sound of the voice. "Yeah. What's up."

Slipping a bit closer, Craven's drawing the curtain closed just a touch, willing to get as little privacy as it offers. "Need to run something by you, see if I've missed something. Got a few minutes?"

"Sure." Zaharis moves his left arm, gesturing to the rolling table that's been pushed off to the side. "Hand me my water cup and I've got as many minutes as you need."

Melia makes herself scarce, down at the far end of the recovery ward. She's changing beds, being nurse's aid, and basically staying out of hte way.

There's a soft laugh and Craven's reaching over to grab the cup so that if can be offered to Zaharis, "Alright, thanks." He pauses, taking a short breath before continuing, "Back when I was a PO, I was involved with a fellow enlisted. It was serious enough, in it's own right. Then, my commission came and we were sorta at an impass, so we put things on hold. Stopped seeing each other, personally. She was looking into her commission, but has since decided against it." He stops then, hands slipping down into his pockets, "So, we were left with two choices. Go our seperate ways or get married. Decided on the latter and wanted to make sure I could get your signature or what not, if it's required, on any forms."

Zaharis sips carefully through his straw while Craven talks. When he's done, the CMO lets the cup rest against his chest. "Understood. That's not a problem. There's a form that you need to get from the Navy offices. Just tell the nurse down there that it's form H-913. Proof of disclosure and records and blah blah blah. I need to sign that for you. And that's it, really."

There's a visible sigh of relief from Craven and he's giving another quick nod of his head before a smile plays across his lips, "Oh, wow. Perfect, Doc. I'll make sure I grab the form from up there and I'll bring it back down a little later to have signed. I thought there might have been more to it." He's pausing, "How ya doing in here, anyways? Going stir crazy yet?"

"Not much from me, no." Zaharis says. "After it gets filed with JAG they'll do some followup on it…but all I need to have is a record that you disclosed it, so." He pauses and takes a sip of water. "I do though, require a personal, signed statement that if my Lieutenant intends to have an open wedding, he will not do so until his CMO can attend."

"Sounds good. I'll make sure the paperwork gets all started then, so that we've dotted our I's and crossed our T's." There's a pause and then he's laughing softly, "We're really not sure if we're going to do something private and then have a little gathering afterwards. Or whether we want something public. Either way, though, I'll see to it that you're out of sickbay in time for it." A pause and he's canting his head to the side, "Noticed you had some therapy today. How's that going?" Even off work, he's on work.

"Thanks." Zaharis takes another sip of water. If anything he knows to stay hydrated. At the question of the therapy, he gives Craven a tired smile. "It's going. I'm not a Marine…I'm not going to say it doesn't hurt like absolute hell. But I won't lose any mobility that they can tell right now." He falls quiet for a few beats. "I haven't had the chance to see my face. I would like to."

Craven's giving a quick nod of his head, "Good. Good. I was wondering how your mobility was going to fare, but hadn't had a chance to look into it." There's a pause, a slight quirk of a brow and he's giving a nod of his head, "I can get you one of the portable mirrors if you want. Just keep in mind that we can do more work with the burns there, including scraping and grafts."

Zaharis still has gauze over the facial burn, protecting it from any pressing into the pillow or his own attempts to scratch the itchy skin. Or maybe from anyone staring. "Mirror would be good, thanks. And yes, I know…we'll see when the time comes." The words come casually enough, even if his eyes flicker away from Craven. "What are they saying about a release date? Can't be much longer until outpatient…I'll be walking on my own tonight, they said."

Slipping out from behind the curtain, it takes Craven only a moment to grab one of the mirrors from the shelves on the far wall and then he's moving back to Zaharis' bed. The mirror is extended and he's offering a soft laugh, "Going to be a couple more days. Those burns are still a cause for concern. But .." His arms lift upwards, coming to cross over his chest, "once you've been cleared by the therapist to walk, I see no reason why you can't meander the halls and take some time in the lounge or at the mass. Obviously, you'll be restricted to the Genesis and still off duty."

Zaharis nods, and smiles ruefully. "Restricted, huh. And here I was hoping I could see that pyramid game." He takes the mirror, glancing at it. His gauzed face looks back at him, and after a moment of considering, he puts the mirror down at his side. Not yet.

"Pyramid game? That might be pushing it. Tell you what, let's see how things are tomorrow. If all's well and good, and I'm satisified with your progress and recovery, I'll see what we can do to get you out of here, so you can see the game. Just .. don't tell my boss. He's liable to have a fit over that." There's a flash of a smile and then Craven's watching as the mirror is looked into and then settled without removing the gauze, "I'll leave the mirror here, for when you want to look. Just remember, it always looks worse then it is."

"I won't rat you out." Zaharis smirks. "It's fine, if I can't then I can't." No comment about the mirror and how things look. His eyes flicker to Quill and Rhea. "How are they doing?"

Looking over towards Quill and Rhea's bed, Craven gives a quick nod of his head, "Both are doing exceptionally well, actually. I'm going to be doing a final evaluation on them and see about getting them discharged and turned over to light duties. The Major's going to be the rougher one, with a through and through to her stomach. She'll need to take it easy for a bit. As for the Lieutenant, he's healing nicely. His burns weren't as extensive or as critical as yours."

Zaharis nods slowly. "Quill was upset about possibility of scarring," he confides in Craven, quietly. "I couldn't tell him much, not having seen his chart or his burns."

"2nd degree burns of his back and sides. Possibility of scarring is there, but with some scraping and grafts, we should be able to reduce it or even make sure that there is none." Craven offers with a slight nod of his head, "Need to talk to him about that once he's been discharged."

Zaharis nods slightly. "We have some pressure garments up here if he needs them. I couldn't say." He lets his head rest back, looking over the two beds again. It is indeed frustrating not being able to help. "At least we took those small precautions."

Craven's giving a nod of his head, "I'll keep that in mind. We're more or less going to need to see how his body takes to healing the burns naturally. Hope that it's good enough to do so without the scarring." His arms uncross and he's letting his hands slip back into his pockets, "And you're going to have mountains of paperwork to deal with, when we put you on light duty, by the way."

"Thank the gods," Zaharis replies, turning his attention back to Craven. He smirks. "If I haven't gone batshit crazy by then, it'll be a welcome change."

There's a quick grin and Craven is giving a slight shake of his head, "Oh, I wouldn't be so sure that it's going to be a welcome change. I figure after the first four or five hours of signing things, you'll be ready to hurt someone."

Zaharis smirks. "As many years as I've been doing this, takes more than a marathon signing session to wipe me out." He takes a sip from his blue bendy straw. "Is there a damage report somewhere on what happened?"

A laugh now and Craven is giving a quick nod, "Well, good enough. Because there was no why I was signing all of those, on your behalf." The mention of the damage report has him shrugging his shoulders slightly, "No idea. I imagine there's one on your desk, but I havn't had time to sort through anything not labelled as urgent. I'll see if I can't find it though, and bring it in for you."

"Thank you. I'm quite sure there's going to be some looking into of what happened. I need to start getting ready." Zaharis doesn't sound happy about this, but you do what you gotta go.

"No problem." There's a smile then and Craven is casting a look over his shoulders, "Suppose I should let you get your rest. I need to go change and get ready for my shift, anyways. Which means, you'll unfortunatelly be seeing more of me."

Zaharis hehs. "You did good that night, Craven. You know…the thing about being a supervisor is that it's your job to train people to be able to function without you. Looking at you? I know I've done my job."

Lifting a hand, Craven ticks two fingers off from his brow before giving a smile, "Thanks Doc." There's a pause and the smile works into a grin, "As much as I enjoyed it, let's try to not make a habit of it. Want me to bring anything else when I come on shift?"

"Just as much information as you can," Zaharis smiles faintly, though it doesn't reach his eyes.

Craven turns after giving one final nod, "Will do, Boss. I'll scrounge up what I can and bring it down so that you have something to read. See you soon enough." And with that, he's beginning to head off back to the Sickbay Proper.

Zaharis goes back to his water and his pet ceiling cracks. The mirror stays facedown on the bed.

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