ph_logs | Please state the nature of your medical emergency [Oct/Nov TL]

It takes River nearly eight days to show up during normal clinic hours. She's had time to brace for accusations and recriminations, but she's decided already that if First Aid doesn't know she killed him, well.

She's not about to bring it up. That was. Bad. Dredging it up can only make it worse, right?

And if this is truly a surgeon, a learned healer...she has some things he needs to know. She steps in out of the Autumn afternoon and carefully gets her ears out of her hood before lowering it.

In the absence of patients or anything in the clinic that needs cleaning -- in fact every fixture in the building is dust-free and sparkling, thank you -- First Aid had been lounging on his cinderblock chair in the corner of the reception room, doing some reading. Still such a novelty to just sit and read a book without straining the magnification on his optics or using a scalpel to turn the pages...

He's caught up in the story when he hears the door open, so it's in a half-distracted tone that he looks up and says, "Hello, what can I do for -- oh. Oh my goodness!"

He hurriedly fumbles the book to the side and stands up, approaching River anxiously. Her arms...Humanoids aren't supposed to be that hot, not unless they're actively on fire or running a dangerous fever...and even then, it wouldn't be concentrated in her arms!

"Miss, are you okay?" he asks, scanning her from head to toe. "I don't mean to alarm you, but I'm getting some strange readings on my sensors here. Please tell me what kind of assistance I can provide." Because genuinely? He has no clue.

"...I get the feeling I'm gonna learn a lot of fun new words in this conversation," River not-answers, with a friendly smile. Her ears bob, and then kinda.

Swivel.

In the general direction of First Aid, even as she holds up a hand in the universal 'give me a moment' gesture so she can shed her cloak and hang it up. Up closer we have some obvious signs of a fighter and laborer; swordsman's callouses on her hands, scars near her collarbone where someone trying to kill her did not succeed. With her cloak hung, River starts rolling up her sleeves, revealing a complex mesh of identical sigils carved into her arms, dug in deep with precise cuts.

Each glows like coals; if First Aid's clinic is lit by flame rather than electricity, they're brighter whenever the firelight is directly on them.

"...So I had some things to bring up, in the event of emergency treatment," River offers. "River la Croix, at your service. I run Infernal Arms and Armor as the resident smith."

"Oh dear," is all First Aid can think to say as he stares at the symbols carved into her arms.

"First Aid," he says, nodding his head slightly. "Although I suspect you already knew that. Just to be clear, Ms la Croix, did you come in solely to discuss our future interactions, or are you in fact in need to medical treatment right now? Because I'm quite happy to speak with you, but...to be honest, I've never seen anything quite like this before."

He laughs, quietly and a little unsteadily. "I'll admit, it's somewhat alarming."

"You can relax, healer. I'm in no danger." She does offer her arm out for a better look, though. "I came to settle some things for the future and also because I...am not used to the way healing is done around here. Figure education is the best tonic for worry, yeah?"

"Oh, indeed." With a pause to give her a chance to pull away or tell him to stop, First Aid reaches out to gently take her arm, letting his sensor-packed medic's hands take over the job of testing the temperature of her tissues, the depth of the cuts, presence of scar tissue...

"Are you in any pain?" he asks her gently.

"Not from this," River sorta-answers. "These are summoning sigils, mostly complete; think of them as...ammunition. As long as they're active like this, I'm fine. It's when I expend one that I've got a problem. I'd been hoping to ask about potentially using your clinic as a place to redo the work when that happens, reduce the amount of bleeding I do in people's fuckin' houses and maybe spare Eddie the trouble of watching me cut myself. Nobody likes that. I don't even like that."

So uh, First Aid, while we've got the sensors on though.

Your patient here has signs of elevated and extended stress, the kind one might associate with chronic pain or migraines. She's also got signs of malnutrition but there's good news here in that she's well on her way to recovery. You Do Not Have A Second Jean Situation.

Well thank fucking Primus for that, at least.

"Why don't we sit down, get comfortable while we talk?" First Aid suggests. "Would you like some tea?" Too bad, you're getting some anyway.

While it steeps, he sits down across from her and says thoughtfully, "I think I can set up some kind of biohazard zone for you, keep the mess contained. I can also provide you with anesthetic, if that won't interfere with the...ritual? Is that the right word?"

He's trying not to stare at the sigils with transparent distaste. "What happens when you expend one?"

"...The urge to flippantly expend one is so strong right now," River admits, after she gets comfortable. "It reverts to being an open, untreated wound. They're uh..." She visibly does math in her head. "Coming up on a year old now, my time? You can imagine the problem. I've been using whiskey to numb the pain when I re-up them but if you've got something better I'll take it...that said."

One sleeve up further. The sigils stop just below River's shoulder. "The big thing I came here to stress is that in the event of an amputation, you really, really really, absolutely need to not cut the sigils. Slice at the shoulder above them or the wrist below them but if that's not feasible just fuckin' kill me."

This is all completely terrible, thanks!

"...Noted," First Aid says quietly. "I appreciate the warning. And thank you for not setting one off in here. I just mopped." That's a(n attempt at) a joke.

"Is there any risk of infection when a sigil is expended? What other support can I provide?"

"Good question! Probably yes but to date I've gotten them going again before I've needed to worry about that. I'm deeeeecently sure most diseases can't survive the heat in my arms." River girl how are you surviving it. "Though...when you talk about painkillers, infection prevention...how's that work for you? Like I said, I uh." Her ears droop; she's embarrassed. "I come from a real different paradigm of healing."

How is she surviving it?? First Aid would really like to know!

"For infection prevention, thoroughly cleaning and flushing the wound daily, and dressing it with fresh bandages," First Aid says promptly. "I can also help with that, if it's too difficult or painful for you. For pain prevention, we have a very small store of a drug made from cocoa leaves, which Dr. Winterbottom has given me permission to dispense sparingly. I think if she were to see this, she'd agree that the situation certainly calls for it." He clears his vocalizer awkwardly. "However, the drug is highly addictive for humans, and -- I apologize. Do you identify as human, Ms la Croix?"

River blinks a couple times, ears fluttering, and then barks a bitter laugh as the realization hits her. "That depends," she murmurs, looking down and away, "on how racist the elf you ask is. I'm a 'humanized' elf...I can't enter long-time any more, can't spend years moving in a trance like my people are supposed to. Mental problem, spent too long in high stress and now I'm. Stuck."

"I'm afraid I don't know what most of that means," First Aid says as gently as he can. "But I can see it's distressing to you. I'm sorry. I only wanted to ask because, if your metabolism is outside human norms, it may be difficult to prescribe appropriate doses to you when you require medication. There may be some trial and error involved, unfortunately. I don't have any on-board medical data on elves."

"The locals do," River murmurs. "Not the same kind of elves but medicine for them has worked for me so far, provided by Sally Boyle."

Oh thank god. "I've met Sally," First Aid says with a small nod. "And I certainly don't mind working with her. May I ask which medicines she's given you so far?"

"Some manner of birth control, so far," River admits readily. "Again, not the kind I'm used to. This whole place has much more of a...physical paradigm...of healing. Honestly I'd mail some of these medical texts back home if I could."

"Oh?" Finally the penny drops. "Oh, I suppose you must be from a world where magic is used for such things?"

Sheepishly, he explains, "A few of my compatriots back home encountered beings capable of exotic energy manipulation which they called magic, but it pops up so infrequently and under such unusual circumstances that I don't know if anyone's managed to do a formal study on it. Sorry for being so slow on the uptake; I was programmed to use more objective methods." Scalpels, sutures, herbs...anyone can study these things. It hardly takes any special abilities to brew a cup of willow bark tea.

"Yesssss, but magic along with some of these physical techniques." River's expression goes Curious, and she steps herself through it. "The big trouble with solely magical healing is the heal shock; since the patient is essentially being injured in reverse, the pain and sensations can be...intense. Second place is the inherent magical resistance of all living beings, which really either doesn't know or doesn't care that you're trying to help them. A lot of treatment is long-term, low doses of healing magic over time to sneak in past the body, and plenty has to be done by hand to make it easier. Saw a healer have to re-break a bone once...coulda done without that."

First Aid winces sympathetically. "I can see how it might be difficult to follow a treatment plan like that -- for several reasons. And for what it's worth, rebreaking a bone or strut is almost as unpleasant for the healer as it is for the patient."

He's had to do that a couple times, and more unpleasant things when someone had to rely on self-repair alone for too long with a tricky injury. He quickly dismisses the unwelcome memory of cutting a fused hip socket out of a friend's body and tossing it in the parts bin bound for a smelter.

"How have you been adjusting to the town's mode of medicine? Are there any questions you'd like to ask me?"

"Nothing super specific at this time, but I might need uh. Explanations if I'm alive enough to get them, before procedures." River flashes a guilty grin. "It's a scary time, y'know?"

"Of course." First Aid claspes his hands together, giving her an earnest look. "I've been treating soldiers and endangered civilians for twenty years now; I think I've seen just about every way there is to react to an emergency situation. I understand that it will take time to earn your trust, but please believe my sincerity when I say that you don't need to be embarrassed with me. And you don't need to wait until the moment of to ask me questions," he tells her gently. "If you think of anything, you can always make an appointment to talk about it, or send me a letter. Medical education is also part of my functioning."

"Well sure," River agrees, though despite the upcoming thing she's about to point out she does look more at ease. "I'm just being realistic about my ignorance here - I might not understand there's anything to ask until we come up to it, y'know?"

"I understand." First Aid smiles with his voice. "I just want you to know what your options are. And that I'm here to help."

Please state the nature of your medical emergency [Oct/Nov TL]

Wildcard | Early November Visit

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