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Post by DeusExMachina on Feb 19, 2010 15:08:30 GMT -5
Why were things not in alphabetical order? Was it too much to ask for? There were dozens of jars of herbs in every medicine cabinet in every infirmary on the face of Pern, Tamejiv knew, so it stood to reason that they would be organized in such a way as to make them quickly accessible.
That he had been working on this since three o'clock in the morning and it was now well into the morning hours failed to bother him. The cabinet first had to be completely emptied so the shelves could be scrubbed. That was a given. He had been given a key earlier in the day when he officially checked in to announce himself for duty, had been given a tour of the surroundings and found them decidedly lacking. An infirmary should be a place of order and cleanliness; not to say that this one was untidy, but bedpans belonged in one place, sheets in another, bandages in a third... This was not difficult.
It had given him a way to occupy his mind as the late night crept into early morning, that horrible twilight time when he knew he needed to sleep but it still eluded him. Now Tamejiv stood with the cupboard doors flung open, with the jars all arranged on a few folding tables meant to be drawn up to a bedside, putting them back. One. By. One. Labels forward. Alphabetized.
It was really lucky there were no medical emergencies at the moment.
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Post by LyricalBlue on Feb 21, 2010 22:23:34 GMT -5
It was a rather pregnant and rather disgruntled greenrider that wandered into the Infirmary that morning. At a little over four moons pregnant, she was still not enjoying this process. The tiny woman paused just in the entrance and looked around. There was supposed to be a new Master Healer and Estess was looking for anything that would promise relief from the overwhelming morning sickness that struck her nearly every morning.
A hand drifted over her stomach absently as the dark haired woman glanced around, trying to catch sight of said Healer. She said "Hello" tentatively as she glanced around. Where was he? Oh if only he could think of something, several of the creche nannies had recommended things, but so far all their concoctions had only made things worse. Estess was fairly sure that she never wanted to smell klah again, unfortunately it permeated the Weyr Hall every morning. So, instead of facing breakfast, she was hoping that this new Healer would have a solution. Well that, and she was overwhelmingly curious.
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Post by DeusExMachina on Feb 24, 2010 11:38:06 GMT -5
Pregnant.
Awesome.
The dry response could almost be read on Tamejiv's face when he looked up from the endless sorting he was doing to find the owner of that tentative 'hello.' At four months, he might not have been able to immediately pin her ailment, but the placement of her hand and a long career in reading body language gave it away pretty quickly. His lips pulled askew, unhappy and showing it, before he stepped away from the cupboard, reaching for a clean towel to quickly scrub his fingers.
"Good morning," he summoned casually, approaching her the way one might approach a snake - caaaaaarefully, at arm's length. "What can I do for you?" His eyes, dark and direct, pinned on her abdomen during that question, as if he might be able to help her bypass admitting the very basic part of her condition and move directly into the 'what specifically is wrong' part of the interview.
Generally speaking, his bedside manner sucked. It was true.
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Post by LyricalBlue on Mar 1, 2010 13:30:39 GMT -5
Well, he was... odd. But then, what Healer wasn't? They always had been a breed of their own, entirely aside from good Weyrfolk. Oh course, Phaedon was a bit more normal, having the best of both worlds. Estess decided quickly that it was a shame that this man did not have the same luxury. If he stayed her long enough, the place might rub off on him. Yes, there was hope for him yet.
Estess bobbed her head shortly, not really inclined to bow or towards any other formalities. It was far too early and she was far too sour to be really nice just about now.
"Estess of Green Zhatiath. I've got... a bit of a stomach complaint. I was wondering if you could suggest anything that would actually work." Her wistful look clearly indicated that the nannies of the Weyr had already tried just about everything they could think of. Shard that Ev'os anyway, getting her pregnant and then having the nerve to Impress Bronze. Well there was a man she would never see again.
"They've made me try anything they could think of and none of it works." Her voice trailed off, she really would like to be able to enjoy breakfast once more. Foolish child, it was too bad that it was far too late for a quick trip between. That really would have solved everything, ah well. At least if she was laid up, it wasn't for some foolish practice injury and as the nannies constantly reminded her, the Weyr was in need of children.
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