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Lt Commander Foster - Critcal

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I was trying to think of a clever text to describe how much I love this scene, but instead I'll just stand over here, hold up my 'I ❤️ Foster'-sign, and let y'all read the sim :)




((ISS Koh’la’Shamuu))

Wyn Foster hated brain damage cases.

Hated them.

Haaaaa-aaaaa-ated them.

He had done too many brain surgeries, and too many of them had long lasting unintended consequences.  Because brains were fragile.  Brains were delicate.  Brains, even when you saved the person, could be irreparably damaged.

Foster: Life support is almost in place… once it is he needs to get directly into surgery.  And I need to work on draining the intercranial hematoma and fixing the skull fracture before he suffers irreversible brain damage.

Maybe the only good thing here was that he didn’t know this kid at all.  So if he saved the kid’s life but his brain was damaged, Wyn would never be the wiser.

Zumagi: ?

Foster: Life support will be a whole lot more effective if the rib fracture is removed from the lung and that is stabilized.  Forcefields can hold the flail chest in place until the brain is fixed.

He looked over towards Ivin hoping that he could manage the rib alone.  He was a competent trauma surgeon, he had proven that already in the case of Praetor Taron.

Trovek: If you say that's the best call, I trust your judgement. 

He tipped two antennae down towards her in recognition.

Foster: OK, going quiet.  I have to get a pool of blood out of a skull before we get a stroke situation.

He said it almost casually.  Almost.  All of his words had an underlying bite that said exactly how much he did not like this situation.

Zumagi: ?

He pulled up the surgical hood with an automatic locked in series of movements, bringing the scanners into position and his tools into the same array that he always had them.  He was a creature of habit and he had trained himself to do certain things on autopilot so he could reserve the main amount of his brainpower for critical decision making during surgery

Trovek: Doctor Zumagi, while Doctor Foster gets John Doe into the surgical suite, I need your help here. 

Zumagi: ?

Trovek: Give me an assessment on Jane while I figure out what exactly the little guy is. 

He tried not to listen as he focused on making a primary micro-incision where the first tool could be inserted to draw off the pooling blood, disintegrating the dead cells at the cellular level.  That was the least invasive way to remove the blood without damaging the tissue.

Ok, technically an intercranial micro-transport was the least invasive way.  If it was calibrated properly.  If it worked.  But if it wasn’t and if it didn’t it could destroy large parts of the brain and Wyn didn’t trust it.  A micro-incision was a smaller opening than the skull fracture he would have to fix next and a good tradeoff in terms of safety.

Especially on an armored medical ship that was docked in a hostile zone. 

Zumagi: ?

Trovek: ::calling out to Foster:: Update?

He paused and it took longer than was truly comfortable for him to speak, but since he had his head down and his hands in the middle of a procedure, he hoped that would be forgiven.

Foster: Hematoma is drained.  ::He said it with a grim sort of satisfaction that he accomplished the first task.:: The intercranial swelling is markedly improving with the reduction of the pressure from the hematoma.  Skull pieces are in place and I’m applying an osteo-regenerator.

There was a bit of silence and Wyn continued working as Arys turned back towards Zumagi.

Trovek: Let me see those readings. 

Zumagi: ?

Trovek: That's good. It's something we can work with. 

Zumagi: ?

Meanwhile Wyn adjusted the tool to fit one of the cracked skull pieces into a better position and then with the same technology that drew off the pooled blood, he drew off the tiny shards of bone fragment acting like shrapnel and dissolved them into a harmless organic goo that was easily drained off.  

Harmless Organic Goo was going to be his Andorian Blues cover band.

And for a moment he almost chuckled.  But he didn’t because this was serious and his brain was stupid.

And the sull looked like a tightly fitting jigsaw puzzle he fitted the osto-regenerator cap onto the young man, and let the device do its magic, accelerating the healing process to allow the broken bones to fuse together correctly and reset.

He withdrew his tool and let the regenerator also work on the tiny incision. 

Trovek: Foster, as soon as you are done there, I need you. 

He drew in a breath and did not make an off-color joke, even if he wanted to.  Fortunately he was not yet so tired as to let his mouth run freely.

Foster: One moment, I need to lock in life support.  ::He finished up with the young man and waved Zumagi over to work on the broken ribs.:: All yours, Zumagi.

He almost said Ivin.  But he was understanding that first names got him in trouble, so last names it was.  Which was funny.  He hated being called ‘Doc’ but didn’t mind being called Foster or Wyn in any given situation.

Oh, but he hated Shar’Wyn.  At least the sound of it.  Especially when pronounced correctly.

He turned and moved towards Doctor Trovek and her sedated patient.

Foster: What’s going on?

Trovek: ::shaking her head:: It's difficult to say for sure, he's tiny. But those genetic markers :: she jutted her chin towards the diagnostic screen:: look Kriosian? Valtese? 

He drew a breath in through his teeth and doublechecked the genetic markers.

Focusing in on a specific pairing he tapped the screen and then found what he was looking for.  A small receptor that could develop into empathic ability.

Foster: Kriosian.  It has the metamorph receptor.

Not that the child was a metamorph, or was likely to be one.  Not in the slightest.  It was merely that the one receptor was the main physological difference between the Kriosian and the Valtese.  The Kriosians all genetically had the potential (however small) to develop into a metamorph.  The Valtese simply didn’t.

Trovek: ?

Foster: I agree.  The mother has lost a lot of blood and the child is already a drain on the mother’s physical resources.  Now they’re both in a downward spiral.

The mother was in worsening condition and the unborn child was draining the reserves of strength the Mother had, trying desperately to stay alive itself.

A bitter and vicious cycle.

Trovek: ?

Foster: We can do an infusion, but with the mother’s condition I’m not sure if that’s too little, too late.

They had to stabilize the mother and prevent the child from draining her life away from her as she tried to stabilize.  Or they would lose one – or both.

And for a moment Wyn paused and started to feel the chill down his spine that they may have to make a difficult decision.  They might not be able to save both.  They may well have to choose one over the other.

Trovek: ?

Foster: That is possible.  ::He drew in a breath:: You’re the expert here.  I can do the surgical work, but your call is the call to go with.

Trovek: ?



Lt Commander Shar’Wyn Foster
Chief Surgeon

StarBase 118 Ops


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