2007-04-17: Just A Flesh Wound


Bekah_icon.gif Samantha_icon.gif Viola_icon.gif


After the Yankee Stadium massacre, Bekah and Samantha treat Viola at Mt. Sinai

April 17th, 2007:

Just a Flesh Wound

Mount Sinai

A call came in to the nurse's station letting them know that there was an officer coming in with a gunshot wound to the leg. And when they get there they get the added surprise of Bekah moving along with the gurney. She's gaining dark circles under her eyes, but she's still moving. The doc is dressed in jeans and a Red Sox shirt splattered liberally with blood, and a bit of what might be brains. "Which trauma room?" She calls towards the nurse's station.

"Trauma Three!" When they knew it was inbound, Sam kicked things into high gear. "Somebody want to present? Give me a BP, condition, nice shirt, Dr. Morgan." Now she's moving along with the gurney, too. "I'm Dr. Applebaum, do you know where you are?" As they wheel into three, they prepare to shift her onto the table. "One…two…three."

On the gurney, Viola is lying back and trying to keep her attention /off/ of the wound to her leg. It's bleeding. And it hurts. What one would expect from a wound by a rifle. "Lieutenant Viola Everard Holcombe," she replies after a deep breath. Everyone's moving fast and, well, she's got pain killers and there's not much else she can do other than clench onto the side of her gurney. "Wait until this is all over till you call my husband," she says in between deep breaths.

Bekah let's the medic with her give the stats as she helps to shift the woman. "Hey, I heard the Sox were in town. Had to represent." Bekah states as she adds. "She's had fluids and pain medicine only. The bullet wound went straight through. From an assualt rifle, I believe." Though from the fact that Bekah has to put a hand to the gurney to keep from swaying it's likely not as bad as it was. Healing multiple people has taken it out of her. Bekah seems to be planning to stick around as the medic takes off with the gurney, letting Sam take the lead in ordering people around. She's the one actually on shift, after all.

Samantha gives Bekah an assuaging look - she reckons if Bekah had any juice left, she would have done something right now. "Are we expecting more traumas coming in?" she asks of her contemporary, while the nurses start scissoring their way through the pants on Viola's leg and wiping away blood for Sam to inspect it. "Angle looks good - yeah, it went clean through…can you feel this, Lieutenant?" She carefully touches the bottom of Viola's foot after the shoe's been worked off, to check for nerve damage.

Bekah shakes her head. "I don't think so. I think they went elsewhere. We came here because I was riding along." And she trusts her own hospital more than the others in town. Bekah is definately low on juice at the moment, but she's holding up. "Mass suicide at Yankee stadium. Only one survived to the paramedics." And that explains the brain and blood splatter on the poor Red Sox shirt. Bekah moves to hang a unit of O-Negative blood. And hey, she's looking half steady on her feed. Any major damage the wound might have done has been healed, leaving what is still a pretty good bullet hole.

"Yes. Police issue," Viola adds to Bekah's assessment of what she was injured with. While she may not be able to help with what's wrong with her, she sure can tell what she was hit with. Wincing mostly out of anticipation rather than what Samantha does actually hurting her, she nods. "Yes. I can." She knows the kind of wound that a rifle should leave in her leg, so she's going to take it to be the pain killers for it not actually hurting more than it should. "What's the damage?" she asks, wanting to know straight away. No need to dance around the subject.

"Good news is, no nerve damage." Samantha addresses one of the nurses. "Get her bagged on saline and yes two units of blood, thank you Dr. Morgan, push 5 cc's of morphine for now. You're very lucky lieutenant, it passed through the meat of your muscle without hitting bone or nerve. We're going to need to clean out the wound, insure there was no muscle or arterial damage, and let's do an X-ray just to make sure nothing got chipped. Lieutenant, if you want to give a contact number to Melissa here, she'll call your husband. This guy was either an excellent shot or a really crap one."

"Good. That is good." Viola studies the wound without fascination or squeamishness. It's just a wound and she's curious about it. "Well, I'm gonna go with excellent, being one of us. But that doesn't make me feel much better. Something was messed /up/ about that. Police don't just turn on each other and shoot innocents and other officers." She's frowning as she looks at her leg. "It shouldn't be that neat," she replies off-handedly. While she's not exactly an expert, the wound /does/ look weird to her. "Sure." Rattling off her number to Melissa, she adds, "And make sure you tell him /not/ to bring any flowers. Last thing I need are some frou-frou daisies making me feel like some invalid."

Bekah winces at Samantha's last statement. She's not commenting on it yet though. "You're welcome Dr. Applebaum." She's being professional for once even. Miracles do happen. Like Viola's leg. "Maybe he was just a really good shot. That whole thing had something off about it. People generally don't line up to jump off of the stadium, even when the Sox beat the Yanks." She shivers. Even for her, mass casualties aren't fun to watch.

"That whole thing sounds crazy." Samantha says as they wait for x-ray. "Mass suicide and cops shooting cops? It all sounds very unkosher. What happened, exactly?"

"I can't talk about it," Viola tells Samantha after a pause. "If it's not an ongoing investigation, it will be now. I'm sure you'll see it in the papers." Adjusting on the bed, she winces as her jostles her leg. The deep breaths are coming less and less frequently as the pain killer takes even greater affect and she gets used to the pain. "But I'm sure Doctor Morgan will fill you in once we're done here. Nothing wrong with colleagues talking amongst themselves."

Bekah nods her head. "Talk to me before you watch the news, Sam." And possibly see a picture of Namir in handcuffs. She says softly to the other woman before she look over to Viola. "The stiller you can stay, the less you're going to jar the wound. Is the morphine starting to take effect?"

Samantha furrows her brow as she looks over at Bekah, and then nods slowly. "Okay." she says, but really, her mind is more about the doctor stuff now then whatever might be needed to talk about later. "Once we get the x-rays back, we'll be able to determine if we want to admit you for an overnight or just send you home. Either way, you're looking at a minimum of of three weeks or as many as six with physical therapy before you're up to being on the street. Once we stitch you up, we'll need you back here to get them out in a week and we'll see how you are then. And this is all providing we don't see any fragmentation."

Viola tries to not move much, but Viola is not one to be idle. Just the thought of having to stay still makes her want to move more. Then, she squints at Bekah. "You have a rainbow aura. So. Yes. I think it is." The pain is fading away slowly and the morphine /is/ feeling nice. Laying back and not moving is starting feel like a very good idea. The news of three to six week sin physical therapy does /not/ sound good to her, though. "Mmph," she replies to that. Which is a morphine shortened version of 'we shall see about that'.

Samantha seems pleased that Viola's so rational. Police officers can be DAMN stubborn. "Let's wheel her over to curtain two and give her some privacy to sleep." she suggests. "You'll be notified as soon as your husband's here and I can review those x-rays." And with that, off she is wheeled.

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