Medical Melancholy

Posted on Wed Aug 17th, 2022 @ 11:27am by Captain Abigail Laurens & Lieutenant Commander Calvin Morgan

Word had been passed along that the Ichiko's operation was completed and her first officer was resting peacefully, still heavily sedated, but peacefully. The strike teams were preparing to leave, but before they did Abigail wanted to take a moment to speak with her medical officer. Taking a bottle of water, she headed to the desk he was working at, pausing in the distance for a moment to watch him.

She sighed softly. The weight of the situation was wearing heavily on the entire crew, but it seemed her Chief Medical Officer was feeling it more than most. The stresses were being worn clearly on his face as he examined the PaDD in his hand.

Approaching softly, she set the bottle of water on the table in front of him and leaned against the edge of the table, a hand resting on his forearm gently for a moment. "You doing okay?" she asked softly, her voice full of genuine concern. "I mean really?"

Calvin looked up to see the owner of the voice, looked down to mark his spot in the PADD before looking up again. When he did, his face was brighter yet his eyes still bore the pain. "Me?" He asked rhetorically, and checked his pulse at his wrist. "Yup I'm still ticking along. Nothing a few stiff drinks wouldn't fix." He tried to smile, but watched her face and sighed. He motioned to a chair near his desk. "I'm alright," He said with a little more seriousness.

Shifting to the seat, Abigail leaned forward toward him. "How did the surgery with Commander Gail go? I heard it was... difficult..." Difficult definitely wasn't the description she had heard, but it was definitely the most politely and socially acceptable.

"The Commander is resting comfortably. I have calls out to their Buoy Network. Well, I have someone working on that for me. I believe she is in the best shape possible for what we can do. When I get her back to the ship I'll run some more scans." He paused for a moment. "Sometimes there is only so much we can do, and the Commander is at that point right now."

"I'm sure she will be very grateful for your dedication and commitment to her healthcare," Abigail said reassuringly. "Now, tell me, how are you holding up? What do you need? What can I get for you?"

"Well, my liquor drawer is empty, any leads on fixing that?" Calvin asked. "And to make it through this mission. This one is wearing down the staff more than the last. These things we are fighting, they devastating more than physically."

There was a long moment of silence as Abigail reflected on his statement. He was right. These things were more than physically devastating. The emotional toll on the crew was already high, and they still had a long fight ahead of them if they were going to win. She thought for a moment about the stresses she had seen etched on the faces of not just her crew, but of all the Starfleet personnel on the surface. The stoic determination to follow the orders set forth by the Commanding Officers, the intense hatred for these aliens that spurred them on... but also the intense hurt in each set of eyes as another crewmate fell.

She looked away for a moment, unwilling to meet his eyes. "I can get a request through to Ashe for you," she said quietly. "I'm sure she can have something sent down, for medicinal purposes."

"How are you holding up?" Calvin said. He looked directly at her, waiting for her eyes to meet his again. "Don't bullshit me."

Abigail deliberately avoided eye contact. "I'll be happier if I know my crew are at least coping. I'll arrange for Lieutenant Veznia to come speak with you, if there's anyone in particular that stands out as needing a shoulder to lean on or a friendly voice, let her know. Most of the people we have down here have never experienced true combat, this is an eye opening experience for them." A pause, another soft sigh. He wasn't wrong about wanting that drink... for medicinal purposes of course. "For everyone. Everyone is struggling with what we're dealing with."

The change in flow of the conversation, the spotlight of subject, allowed Calvin's body to ease slightly. "Everyone I've talked too is coping. Those who aren't have found someone to lean on, or another spot they can better handle." He took a breath as he rubbed the stubble on his face. "We'll all get through this together." He took another moment of silence, pondering the words he just spoke. The little voices in his head debating the validity of the statement before he pushed them aside.

"You're operating with your right hand tied behind your back at the moment. The Commander will make a recovery, and I have no doubt she will push herself harder than she should. You and I both know that, just like we know we'd do the same." He paused, awkwardly this time. His thoughts not thought out. "Just remember, we need you after the mission too. Don't be a martyr to the mission."

"After this, I think we're all heading for Tabula Rasa. I think a couple of weeks of shore leave sounds like the medicine everyone needs after this. Rest, relaxation and recovery. Trust me, I have that in my head, I want that time on the beach more than you could possibly know," Abigail responded with a smile.

Calvin chuckled a weary chuckle but with a smile. The doctor checked the time. "Seems it is already time for rounds again." Calvin took a sip of the water that was brought for him. "You'll be the first to know when the Commander wakes," He stated standing up.

Abigail stood up as well, giving a slight nod. "Thank you Commander," she said softly. "I appreciate you."

Without waiting for a response, Abigail turned and headed out of the small room, making her way back through the throng of crew members in search of Captain's Taggart and Bartlett.