Check Up

Posted on Mon Mar 15th, 2010 @ 7:52pm by Commander Ian Casey & Commander Basil Hart

1,043 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Preparing The Fleet
Location: Sickbay
Timeline: Current

Ian walked through the corridor as he scanned a PADD with a list of things he needed to accomplish. He noticed that there was an entry about a physical and sighed. He hated physicals. He hated sickbay. He knew it wouldn't go away so he decided to get it over with.

He changed direction and quickly found himself standing outside sickbay. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he stepped through the door and looked around. He noticed a large brass plaque on the bulkhead at eye level. It said, "Anyone wishing to see the doctor except in case of emergency can go straight to Helen Waite." Just beyond and to the right was a desk at which sat a young nurse.The area was full of activity but not as much as he'd expected for a facility as large as the starbase. He stood and watched the activity in the room and waited. He would wait a couple more minutes and if no one said anything to him then he could leave and say that he'd tried reporting for his physical. He nodded as he thought about that plan. It sounded like a good plan.

The young nurse at the desk looked up, and seeing the apprehension, she smiled, and motioned him over. "I'll bet you're here for a physical, aren't you, sir?" She extended a hand. "I'm Helen Waite. Let me get you in the records, Commander, and I'll let the Doctor know you're here. Please take a seat, sir." She smiled pleasantly at him again.

"Thanks, I guess," Ian said as he took a seat. "I knew I shouldn't have waited so long," he said to no one in particular.

"That's OK, commander! You won't be the first to feel that way, and I'm sure you won't be the last." Helen grinned. "Doctor Hart's one of the best, you'll see."

Moments later, a man in the standard issue smock peeked his head around the corner. "Commander Casey, You're up!" Basil's clipped British accent alerted Ian to his upper class roots. "Just pop in to the Exam room, and I'll be with you presently."
With that, he disappeared into another exam room.

"Wonderful," Ian said as he stood up. "Thanks for your help, Helen," he said to the woman as he walked to the Exam room and sat on the bed.

Basil smiled as the commander sat on the bio bed. He reached into an old looking leather bag and pulled out an honest to goodness stethoscope. Putting the appropriate ends in his ears, he placed the cold metal disc against the commander's anterior chest wall. "Breathe normally," he ordered.

"Easy for you to say," Ian replied as he felt the chill of the metal against his skin.

Basil chuckled. "I find that even though there are much more technologically advanced methods of diagnosis, the stethoscope offers a more personal insight into a patient's condition," he said conversationally. "Did you know, that doctors in the 20th century were able to tell a great deal about their patient's health just by listening to them?"

"Is this method faster?" Ian asked. "I have a lot of work to do," he added, hoping that sounded like a believable reason to get out of this exam.

"For example," Basil continued as if he hadn't heard, "Just by listening, I have a good idea of why you want to get out of here. Elevated heart rate and respiration indicate a high level of discomfort with being in sickbay, and dealing with doctors in general. This, added to your obvious ploy to shorten the examination lead me to the conclusion that you are nervous or even scared about this exam." He grinned. "I'll bet your adrenaline levels are through the roof right now, too. A bit light-headed, perhaps?"

He focused on the bio bed readings. "View Halloo! What's this?" He focused in on the Pancreatic tissue. "It looks like your insulin output is off. Your blood sugar is a bit high as well. You may be in the beginning stages of diabetes. Fortunately, that is not nearly as serious as it was in the 20th and 21st centuries. I'll give you an injection which should restore proper balance and function to your pancreas, but you will need to change your diet for a while to make sure that things heal up properly." Basil produced a data rod and handed it to Ian. "Here's a modified diet plan to help. I'll want to keep tabs on you for a while to make sure that this remedy takes. Come and see me in a week, and I'll see if I can't get you back on a more even keel." He quickly prepared a hypo-spray and plunged it into Ian's neck where the medication would immediately circulate through Ian's body, repairing the damaged pancreatic tissue.

"Hey!" Ian exclaimed. "You could have warned me," he added, rubbing his neck. "Is this going to keep me from flying? The last thing this base needs is to lower pilot morale further by having a Commander that's grounded. Not exactly the best way to lead by example. You know what I mean?"

Basil chuckled. "Sorry about that, commander. In answer to your question, it shouldn't keep you from flying, but you need to keep close tabs on that diet change. The last thing you need is to lose consciousness because you had too much sugar before a sortie..."

"So much for my idea about a pre-flight doughnut bar," Ian said with a smile. "Is there anything else I should know about this?"

Basil shrugged. "Just make sure you follow that diet, and the injection should stabilize you in the short term. Right now, you don't need insulin, and I'm optimistic that your pancreas will heal if it's treated right. Please come see me in a week for a follow-up visit, ok?"

"Sure thing, Doc," Ian said as he stood up. "If there's nothing else I really should get down to the hangar bay and start whipping them into shape."

"Very well, then, Commander. Carry on." Basil smiled at Ian as the commander left sickbay.

Commander Ian Casey
Commanding, Air Group
StarBase Typhon

Lieutenant Commander Basil Hart
Chief Medical Officer,
StarBase Typhon

RSS Feed