Micah Castro Braden // Doctor Watson, I presume (acatalyst) wrote in bellumlogs,
Micah didn't listen to Cole's words, not beyond registering that he was still conscious enough to speak. He irrigated the sutures, slathered every last one with Betadine, and then he wrapped Cole's leg in gauze from knee to shin. He took Cole's pulse - fast, but safe; he took Cole's blood pressure - low, which was normal with the blood loss, but not dangerously so; he took Cole's temperature - also low, again due to the blood loss. He pulled out a prescription pad (obtained in Miami, where it was easier to do without a license), and he wrote a prescription for pain pills and antibiotics, which he handed to Will. "Go get those," he told him, then he looked back at his patient.
"The bite got muscle, not bone, but you still have a good bit of muscle loss," he explained, grabbing a washcloth and starting to wipe the blood from his hands. "Stay off it, elevate it, keep it from getting infected and you might get by with an interesting scar and a limp. The stitches will dissolve within a few weeks. If anything gets red or hot, come see me. I'm in 202. My name's Micah." He smiled. "And keep your ass away from wolves?"
He said the last sentence in jest, but there was a bit of seriousness in his voice. "You can't move tonight. You've got too much blood loss," he told Cole, standing. "Let's help him into bed. The least the wolf can do is handle a house guest for a night. How are the other two?" he asked John, even as he started packing things away, gaze going to all the blood on the floor. "We need to get this place cleaned up. Keep the wolf and the blonde away from the blood with those open wounds."