A Gentle Exam

Posted on Sun Apr 28th, 2024 @ 6:02pm by

1,582 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Opening Moves
Location: Sickbay | Deck 4 | USS Thunderbird
Timeline: MD022-1000

Lorut Vila made her way to the Medical labs. Unfortunately, it was time for the woman to have her annual checkup, and she wasn't exactly glad about it. She hated medical. She knew that most people did but she hated it for different reasons. She had a lot of unresolved trauma around doctors, due to the "medical experimental treatments" she'd underwent at the Labor camps, and so she always put it off as long as possible.

Charlie sat in her office, taking a quick break from setting up sickbay and conducting the occasional physical. Most of her staff had yet to report, but she had a couple of nurses on hand helping her with the set up, inventory, and the steady stream of first aid needed for minor injuries occuring while prepping the ship for launch - mostly from engineering. She finished her glass of water and heard the main doors swish open, so she stepped out to greet the new arrival.

"Welcome, I'm Dr. Hart. What brings you to sickbay?"

Vila raised an eyebrow. "If you'd read your files, Doctor, you'd find that I am overdue for my annual exam," she said. "My transfer occurred too quickly for me to complete it on my previous posting," she said.

The doctor's expression stayed pleasant and inviting. This wasn't the first cranky patient she'd ever encountered, and experience had shown her that cantankerous behavior usually masked a very real concern. She had read her files, enough to recognize that the Bajoran before her was the ship's Chief Science Officer.

"Well then you've come to the right place, Lieutenant Lorut. Or is it Major? Forgive me, I've never served with a Bajoran before, let alone a transfer officer. I'm not entirely sure what honorifics are appropriate." As she spoke, Charlie recalled that Lorut's file had mentioned medical trauma. She could not remember the specifics, but that certainly earned a pass for any attitude. The strength it had probably taken this woman to voluntarily walk into sickbay was commendable.

Vila nodded. "Lieutenant, technically," she said. "I am no longer a Resistance member," she said. "The Exchange is through the FOP, not Bajor specifically," she explained. She had calmed down a little.

"Noted," Charlie said, leading her around the corner into sickbay proper and gesturing towards the primary biobed in the center of the room, along with the row of six biobeds lining the far wall. "Please take a seat wherever you're comfortable, except for number 5. The display interface keeps resetting mid exam, I need to get an engineer in here to take a look."

Vila nodded, and sat straight up on the closest biobed. "I understand," she said.

Retrieving a medical tricorder, Charlie brought up Vorut's medical file on the biobed monitor for a quick review. "For starters, Lieutenant, how have you been feeling?"

"Generally fine," she said. "Nothing of note to report," she said, a bit stiffly.

"Good. Any major stressors at the moment... you know, aside from getting a starship ready for launch?" Charlie asked as she scrolled through the file. Yep, Cardassian experimentation certainly qualified as medical trauma. And Orkett's disease, she'd only been passingly familiar but had taken time to do some reading when she'd seen it mentioned in Lorut's file. They would get to the Orkett's but only after the basics.

"My ex-husband just got remarried and I had to hear about it second-hand, but otherwise, no. Nothing of major note," she said. She was playing her cards closely still. "The regular stresses, I suppose," she said.

"That stinks," Charlie commiserated, knowing she would be devastated if she heard Eric was engaged. True, they'd never been married, but it would still hurt. She turned towards Lorut, removed the probe from the medical tricorder and slowly brought it up to the Bajoran's brow to begin her scan. "What do you like to do to relax, take your mind off of things?"

Vila didn't flinch. "I don't relax," she said. "My body has been in flight or fight mode since I was eight years old," she said. "Relaxing means capture and death," she said, almost robotically. It was true, at any rate. She was always tense and rarely slept. "But my hobbies include cooking and reading when I have the time," she said. Her job kept her busy, though.

Charlie's heart broke at the answer to her question, but her years of experience helped her keep her expression neutral. Sympathy could quickly be taken for pity, and if that happened, then tentative doctor-patient trust that was possibly beginning to form would be lost. "I cannot cook. Like even the basics. I have no idea why I'm so terrible, my granny was whiz in the kitchen, and my brother Connor is a chef. I suppose my talents lie elsewhere."

Vila nodded. "It takes patience. I had to learn because my mother couldn't be bothered, and if I wanted to eat things not from a replicator, I needed to learn. Later, my ex-husband was also useless in the kitchen, so it helped," she said. "We all have different talents. I can teach you sometime, maybe," she said.

The offer caught Charlie's attention and she looked up from her scan. "I think I need to take you up on that offer, perhaps sooner rather than later. I don't know if you've heard, but Captain Gray informed me that there would be a monthly dinner for department heads, and that each of us would be expected to cook the meal when it's our turn. Not replicate - cook." She shook her head and returned her focus to the body scan. "The last time I attempted to cook, everyone made it through exactly one bite. Then we threw it away and went out to eat."

Vila cocked an eyebrow. "I wasn't informed, no," she said. "And yes, that's often the case. I find that most of the officers are far too busy...but cooking is a lot of chemistry, after all," she said.

"Huh. I've never heard it compared to chemistry, but chemistry I can handle. Maybe I won't be a lost cause after all." Charlie reviewed the readings from the tricorder then set it aside. "So, other then some understandble indications of tension, everything appears to fine. There is a slightly deeper scan I would like to run, given your medical history..." She made a couple of quick notes to Vorut's chart. "I see where your Orkett's is in remission. With your permission, I'd like to conduct a bone marrow scan to confirm this, and hopefully obtain a steady baseline for future reference. This scan is non-invasive, but it will take about five minutes. You would need to lie down while I conducted the scan. Do I have your permission?"

Vila stiffened for a moment. This was the part she had been worrying about. Finally, though, she nodded yes. She knew she needed to address it, unless it completely destroyed her organs and killed her. She had some minor liver damage already from it (or the Springwine she sometimes drank to excess), so no need to hurry things along.
"Yes," she said. "Can I...keep my shirt on?" she asked.

"Of course," the doctor assured. "Let me know when you're comfortable and we'll begin."

Vila nodded, sighing in relief. She wasn't ready to explain the scars and marks she bore. "I am ready," she said, lying back. "You can start now," she said, still stiff but trying to relax into the biobed. She breathed in deeply, trying to calm down.

"Very good." Charlie approached the bedside and slowly lifted the scanner into Vila's line of vision so she could see the tool being used. It had the appearance of a small ceramic bowl being held upside down above her. A handstrap secured the crown of the device in the palm of the doctor's right hand. "Here in a moment, I'll be bringing this device to approximately 25 centimeters above your body so that I can trace your skeletal structure. This will take about five minutes or so, so if you have any good stories to tell, now is the time."

Vila tried to nod. "Alright," she said, simply. She was grateful that Dr. Hart was explaining each step. It helped her to feel more at ease. "What would you like to know?" She said. Vila didn't have many "good" stories. All of hers were pretty dark. A lot of terrible things had happened to her. "Do you play baseball?" She ventured. She might try to start a baseball club here; Bajor had been introduced to the game by the FOP and Starfleet, and she had loved it.

Charlie imagined the she could feel the staggering heat of a summer afternoon game. "I do. My brothers both played, so of course I had to learn. I like to think I made a damn good shortstop."

Vila smiled. "Me, too," she said. "Play, I mean," she said. "I might start a league here on the Thunderbird," she said. "Would you be interested in joining?" She asked. "I really miss it," she said. "How is it going?" She asked, about the scan.

"I would love to join, and I like to bat 3rd, thank you very much." Charlie grinned as she moved down the Bajoran's torso. "As far as the scan, so far, so good, but we still have a bit to go. Plenty of time for you to tell me just how you learned about the game..."

 

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