Griffen Turner (lovetransferred) wrote in britannia_ny, @ 2009-09-04 10:52:00 |
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Current mood: | busy |
Recovery (Closed for Nate and Griffen)
On the fourteenth hour of a shift, coffee was beginning to resemble ambrosia from the gods - even the horrible, too-bitter hospital coffee. It had caffiene in it, and it tasted bad enough to wake him up for another half hour, so that was what counted.
"Mrs. Tannith, I promise with rest and antibiotics, you'll make a full recovery," he smiled mildly at his latest patient, a poor woman of eighty-seven who had come in with an infection due to not having treated a simple knife cut for too long. She was a sweet old lady - unfortunately, she ended up in this hospital far too often.
Griffen supposed, with advances in medicine, that it was only natural that the population of hospital patients were increasingly older. Depressing, but natural.
Patting Mrs. Tannith on the shoulder, Griffen checked over the other patients in the room, and left, heading towards the next. He was covering the ER recovery wing tonight, as a favor to another doctor - normally, Griffen was in the ER, covered in various bodily fluids and dealing with car crash victims. Still, it was nice to relax a little. There weren't nearly as many people in danger of dying immediately in here.
He rounded the corner into the next room, nose buried in his folder. Bed Six was a Nathan Tarn, two bullets to the shoulder, extensive muscle damage. With physical therapy, he would recover 90% of his former use with that arm.
"Hello, Mr. Tarn, I'm Doctor Turner. I've..." Griffen trailed off as he glanced up from his folder, actually looking at the patient.
Oh.
Well, there was absolutely no reason for that I know him feeling.
Griffen cleared his throat. "How are you feeling? We can adjust your pain medication if you need it."