"Mnh." Very much yes, very much no. A privilege, but one he'd both worked hard for and paid for dearly.
"I didn't; I was unconscious until it, er, came out." He makes a face and takes a swig of tea, demonstrably washing his mouth out. "Am low." He makes a tapping motion over his throat wrappings, falling into dispassionate reporting-to-Poppy mode. "Puncture. Apparently did some considerable damage to the garments of the unfortunate who found me. I understand they were white, too."
No worries! And if he can't hold back, we have a stratagem to try. :) Or I could see if Q would be willing to move to this thread with his question.