Bedside Buddies

Western Weyr - Infirmary
This long, rectangular cavern smells faintly of antiseptic and strongly of pleasant medicinal herbs. The general atmosphere is one of bustling but orderly quiet and strict cleanliness. The back of the room is dominated by a small hearth for heat and medicinal preparations and by swinging double doors that lead to a small DragonHealing bay, an emergency surgery for human patients, the main storage, and the staff area where Healers can eat, shower, change, and the like during their longer shifts. The front of the room is a waiting and reception area where patients and staff can check in to receive treatment and begin work, respectively. The east wall of the room features examination, birthing, recovery and outpatient treatment rooms while the opposite wall is curtained off to provide privacy and bed-space for patients requiring overnight care.
Western can certainly handle most of the routine and sometimes urgent treatment needs of its residents here. It lacks some of the equipment available at the main Healer Hall. Once they are stabilized, patients requiring specialized or ongoing care are surely transferred there.


It's been several days now since the costume party, and therefore several days since Zi'on was stabbed in the back with an arrow. He's stable enough now where there's no immediate threat of him bleeding to death and he's been sewn up as best they can do. Now he's been sent off to the ward where they keep people who are on the mend or still under observation. He's of course not free to wander about the halls or do as he likes, he's still confined to the bed most of the time for fear he might move wrong or fall and tear open the wound again. So here he is propped up in bed a weird way to keep him from putting pressure on his back. It's no secret that Zi'on is not a model patient in the slightest. He's at least given up on doing a ton of work while he's in bed, but the worst part for the staff is getting him to eat anything good for him. He's in pain! Which means all he wants to eat are puddings and pastries. "Hello! Nurse. Nurse!" Sigh. Sniffle. "I'm hungry…"

Qiana wasn't at the costume party herself, having felt a little ill that day, but now she'll be getting in her socialization time with the Weyrleader whether she wants to or not. Only a few hours ago was the woman brought in from her tumble, and the mess started. Black and blue somewhat liberally, a broken wrist and the beginnings of a miscarriage later. If Zi'on was awake for that or not, Qiana couldn't tell. And frankly her state of mind is fuzzy at best at the moment. In order to give her a moment's rest instead of panic, the Healers gave her fellis, and she's just now starting to wake up from it with a low groan. Between Zi'on's calling and a groan, an apprentice peeks their head around, before scooting off for somebody else.

Zi'on may have been awake for that, but it wasn't likely they took care of Qiana in the section where they are now, so he is unaware of the complications brought on by the tumble. Of course when Qiana was wheeled in he was a bit distressed, knowing her and seeing her knocked out like that. The only information he's been given thus far is that she took a bad tumble off a runner. The weyrleader's calls for food will likely go unheeded, since he refused to eat what they tried to serve him for lunch, instead conned an apprentice out of her dessert instead. Which had filled him up for about half an hour. "Shard it." He mumbles, laying back suddenly in a defeated sort of way. Which hurts, and he grunts and winces. "Ow…" He'll have to tell Kiena to bring him something from the caverns when she comes round after work, if he doesn't run into Ziri before that. Zi'on looks over at Qiana, to see if she's actually waking up or just groaning in her sleep.

Qiana is most definitely awake now. There's enough of the fellis still in her system to keep the majority of pain at bay, but the broken (and casted) left wrist gets lifted first to look at it, and then she lowers that back down, only to cover her face with her right hand. At least by some stroke of luck she didn't break the wrist on her dominant hand. Only a few moments are spent like that, as if she's trying to adjust her eyes to the light before she takes it away, and looks around without sitting up. Sitting up would bypass any amount of pain inhibitors in her system. Her eyes lock onto Zi'on. There. Something to concentrate on besides herself. "Don' do tha' if it hurts." Yup. Fellis is definitely still in her system, if her speech is sounding slightly slurred. Apparently she heard the 'ow'.

Rorn will be glad she didn't break her dominant hand! Maybe. The other broken bits he might not be thrilled about though. Zi'on looks mostly normal. The bandages on his back are out of sight, and if it weren't known that he was stabbed, one might think he came in to have a kidney removed for some other reason. "I can't help it. I never know which way to move to sit how I want without hurting myself." He takes in a deep breath, which also hurts, though he's less vocal about it this time. "I heard you took a spill off a runner. They can be tricksty. I guess you won't be riding for a bit then. I think Rorn was here earlier, but I was half asleep. They've cut down my fellis dosage during the day now, so I guess I can't just sleep all the time." Ramble ramble.

"Fros'bite." Qiana manages to say as her eyes that were a moment ago locked on Zi'on track back up to the ceiling. If the Weyrleader is being observant, he'd be able to see the extra moisture gathering in her eyes, which she tries to blink away rapidly. "S'umbled or somethin'. Went o'er his neck." And under the main mass of his body. The blinking grows quicker yet at the mention of Rorn's name, and her good hand raises to start wiping away the tears that are starting to leak from her eyes, sniffling. Really? All this reaction for falling off a runner? "C-can't keep y' on it. T-t-too addic'ive." Her voice is low and hoarse, the voice of someone just barely managing to keep from sobbing. Wonder what's eating at her.

Zi'on blinks. "Frostbite?" Then he realizes that she's not indicating that her injuries were caused by frostbite. "Oh. That's your runner. I got it." It's hard for Zi'on to turn to see Qiana, but he can at least tell she's wiping her eyes. He frowns. It's not like he can do much comforting from the area that is his bed way over here. "What's all this then. Did something happen to Rorn, too? Or is this about your runner? Maybe it's the fellis. Or this room. It's probably the room. I bet you would feel better if you had some puddin'." Puddin is comfort in food form. "I guess not," he says about the fellis. "They give me some at night to help me sleep. Or at least they said they would. But after tomorrow I don't think I'll get any during the day. Unless they are complications."

Qiana can only seem to shake her head repeatedly as Zi'on asks his questions. It also takes her about five tries, but she finally gets out the word "No." Likely in reference to that barrage of questions. And by the time he's done she's crying. And not just silent tears, but the sort of sobbing that usually makes strangers look the other way in discomfort. The Healer on Duty was already on her way by this point in time, but nothing to quicken a Healer's footsteps like a bawling patient. "What's going on ba-" is all the Healer gets out before she realizes which patient is crying. And since Zi is /such/ the model patient, he of course gets shot a glare-glance before the Healer is perching on the edge of Qi's cot.

Zi'on is not very sensitive. Or maybe it's more that he never knows what to say in situations like this, where the other person clearly is uncomfortable talking about whatever it is. So he just rambles on and on to avoid an uncomfortable silence. At the sobbing though Zi'on realizes he's not going to get any answers and just pouts. It's at himself really. "Sorry, Qiana…" Is all he manages to eek out before the healer comes in with the glares. "What? I didn't do anything! I just mentioned S'rorn." He sighs. "We both need some pudding now I think." He pouts at the healer.

Qiana isn't so bruised that she's immobile. With someone sitting on her bed, she's started to shift so that her good hand is gripping the side of the Healer's shirt, while her legs are starting to tuck up and her head finding the Healer's lap for a bit of unknown-person comfort. And all the healer can really do is gently stroke Qiana's head. Someone's going to have a damp lap. "You wouldn't know, I guess." At least the Healer isn't so stuck up she can't apologize. "Her fall was a bit more traumatic than just bumps and bruises and a broken wrist." Qiana doesn't seem to be registering much of what anyone is saying in the room for the moment. "It's not my place to say what, but I can't give her any more fellis right now, either. Too soon after the last dosage." There's a heavy sigh from the healer as she continues to stroke the back of Qiana's head, who's at least managed to move from the sobbing to a more sedated form of crying.

Zi'on can at least move his arms and legs. It's just getting up that's so painful and still not such a good idea. Hopefully the healer's lap is damp from the tears and not something else, though. "Apparently I don't know." He blinks. "Maybe it's none of my business…" Or maybe he'll ask S'rorn when the brownrider returns to check on his weyrmate. Which might be after the next dose of fellis is this is the sort of state she's in right now. Zi'on just gives a long sigh. "Maybe I ought to have let that pirate finish the job." Though if Straws was looking to outright murder the weyrleader he'd gone and done a poor job of it really. "Maybe I should send for her weyrmate?"

With Qiana finally settled into the quiet mode of crying and not nearly as volatile as a few moments ago, the Healer seperates herself from the hurt woman, and pulls the blankets back up around her. "Maybe. He might be able to get her back to sleep, though I think she's almost there now." Crying is an exhausting event after all, especially the sobbing variety. The remark about letting Straws finish the job gets two quirked eyebrows from the Healer. "And why would you want him to do that?"

Zi'on is silent for a long moment as messages get passed around. "I think he's asleep. Apparently he was up all night or something." Dragon messages tend to not always be the most reliable. Zi'on wouldn't know about the crying bit. He doesn't cry very often. He motions to his back the best he can when the healer asks him about Straws. "To put me out of my misery. Also to keep Qiana from having to deal with me. My weyrmate, too. Faranth. I've been too loopy to even really talk to her these past few days."

The Healer merely shakes her head, as she heads over to a cupboard, pulling out one of their commonly used tea mixtures, and starting to brew it in a single-serving cup. "If everything goes well, I imagine it'll just be a few more days and we'll allow you restricted bedrest in your own weyr, if that's what your after." The healer's face is serious in a solemn way. "Don't worry about her too much. She's in good hands with us, and she isn't in any immediate danger." And indeed Qiana has quieted down further, reduced to the occasional sniffle. "What you need to worry about, Weyrleader, is not aggravating your wound and reopening it. Keeping it clean too, so it doesn't get infected." Though he's probably being helped with that one right now. "Your reduced amounts of fellis will help with the 'loopy'ness." She manages to comment with a small smirk, as she takes the tea leaves out of steamy water, heading back to Qiana and setting it on a rolling table within easy reach. "I want you to drink this carefully. It's hot, but it will help you relax, alright?" And to that there's a weary nod from Qiana.

Zi'on watches the healer as she goes about her healery business. "It is. Really I am eager to get back to work, for obvious reasons." Mainly to figure out how in the heck Straws escaped and who he ran off with to where. "Working here isn't really possible, unless you don't mind this person and that person milling in and out. I don't think your staff much like running messages for me, either." There's a nod about Qiana, then about himself. "I'll have Ziri make a weyr call once a day, maybe in the evening, and I'll have Kiena dress it in the morning. Hopefully it won't reopen if I'm careful." He grins about the loopyness. "Good." The bronzer relaxes a little. "Anyone know any good songs? I need something to keep myself occupied."

"If it was just you in here, I wouldn't mind so much if there were people coming and going." The healer responds, though her gaze switches back to Qiana as the woman inches herself into a reclined position, her movements tender, to sip at that cup of tea. "However, you're not the only one here, and some of the other people need their space and quiet." Between sips of tea, Qiana is taking deeper breaths in and out, trying to control the rest of her tears, though by now her face is flushed from the exertion of the crying. "Our apprentices are not your errand runners, correct sir. They're here to learn and serve as healers." Finally Qiana is also rejoining the 'conversation', or what there is of it. "I d-don't thin' I've ever heard you sing." There's a small pause as she inhales and exhales again. "N-not sure I want to."

Zi'on nods to the healer. "That's why it's better if I'm at home. I don't need much space or quiet. Well, at least not much quiet. Unfortunately for your staff if the weyr is falling to bits around us you all may end up my errand runners." Especially if S'rorn is in a similar emotional state to Qiana. They may have to expedite the induction of a new wingsecond if the current one isn't living up to the title. "Hey now. There's no need to be rude." He says to Qiana with a pout. "I can sing just fine, thank you. There was a time when I was going to be a harper, you know. Up until my da squashed that idea."

Qiana isn't entirely familiar with Zi's family history, but neither is her brain working at full capacity right now. "Mebbe it was 'cause you couldn' sing." Is she trying to be humorous? Who knows. But that tea is just about gone, and her breathing has evened out considerably. The Healer merely sits down in the chair available to her, making notes on the paperwork that's undoubtedly for Qiana. "Well, it won't be the first time our apprentices get hi-jacked for weyr duties. It probably won't be the last, either." And who knows what S'rorn's emotional state is, or what he might have gleamed from the original set of healers who were with Qiana.

Zi'on laughs. "No. It wasn't because of that. I don't know if my father ever heard me sing his whole life. It was because he thinks harpers are fruity if you catch my drift. And he wanted me to stand. Or maybe he's a psychic, I dunno." Rorn was probably passed out from being up all night worrying then going home to try and drink himself calm. Not all of us get special tea! Not that Zi'on has any clue about any of this. For all he knows Qiana and Rorn got into some massive fight and she went all wild on her runner and that's why she went flying off.

After finishing her 'special' tea, Qiana puts the cup back on that rolling cart, only to sink back down into a laying position with a groan and a hand over her stomach, trying to get back into a comfortable position. "Mmm. Who knows." Is Qi's non-committed response. It seems like she's drifting back off into the land of the sleeping. And by the look of the Healer, that's exactly what was wanted. "Your singing will have to wait a little while, but if there's something you want to read, we can have someone fetch it." The healer states, moving the tray away from the bed and claiming the cup.

Zi'on shakes his head to the healer. "No. That's fine. I'll have my weyrmate or maybe Enka bring it. I am hungry though, so if someone could fetch me something to eat that isn't horrid that would be good. If they have any stew in the kitchens, I can probably keep that down, maybe?" He hopes at least. There was always a possibility that his organs weren't quite ready for real food yet. "Otherwise, I think I might take a nap myself. Maybe Qiana will want to talk more when she wakes up again."

The healer smiles at Zi'on's request. Haha, victory! A request for real food instead of pudding. "I'll see what we can't do for you that will taste good and be gentle enough on your system." And maybe, just maybe, there'll be a small bowl of pudding on the tray when it comes, too. His last comment gets a mixed look from the healer with pursed lips. "Doubtful. Maybe, but doubtful. It'd be better if someone could get her weyrmate or family in here." And with the cup still in hand, the Healer heads towards the door. "Give me a few minutes and your lunch should be along."

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