[Infirmary] Foot in the Door (Job Request)

by **Elem Bree** on February 8th, 2012, 4:40 am

Winter, Day 55, AV 511

Another blustery day in the port city, cold winds whipping through the streets and making everyone but the most foolhardy and tough pull their cloaks and coats about themselves. Elem surely had his own cloak pulled up, having left his cottage to rotate window plants. With his sleeping and eating in the dormitories, he had made his cottage fully available to his winter garden, rotating the plants throughout the day to ensure each got its daily amount of sun. Now he found himself walking toward the Infirmary, in hopes of getting a job there.

Mizas were the primary motivator at the time, since his purchases had nearly sapped him. The food at the dormitories made his life much easier, though he felt he could use more money, as most probably did. Only slightly less equal in its importance was the hands on training he would receive for his chosen profession. He had even heard that two years of study in the Infirmary could have him on as staff. It didn't sound so far away.

Shaking off the cold as he entered, he could see a few patients in beds, only one person milling about and overlooking their conditions. Her age and appearance told Elem that it was most likely Mistress Claira, the head of the Infirmary and overseer to all who sought to learn Medicine at the University. Elem approached her, rubbing his hands together behind his back so they wouldn't be completely frozen and unfriendly. "Mistress Claira? I am Elem Bree, a student of the medicinal and herbal arts. I was wondering if I could have a word with you."

The old lady approached him, her own hand extended until the two had disposed of the niceties. " A pleasure, Elem. I did see your name on the Registrar's lists for Winter. I hope you'll be sticking to your studies. Too many find the temptation of Rak'keli and Her divine healing too much to ignore and quit their studies to follow Her. No disrespect, mind you, but I think it is a really chicken way to go." Elem couldn't help but grin. " I have heard of her wonders, surely. But I want to practice medicine and herbalism, not pray to a Goddess." Mistress Claira only nodded.

"Well, Mister Bree, what skills do you bring to my Infirmary?" Elem had known this question would come up, though his butterflies made it nearly impossible to try to guess ahead of time what to say. He noticed that he was being interviewed right there on the spot. His mind was getting fuzzy, so he took a slight breath and closed his eyes, to make the speaking easier, you see. " I have a basic understanding of assisting procedures that I gleaned from books in the Library. I know how to wrap bandages, sterilize instruments, aid in hygiene, that sort of thing." It didn't sound very impressive. That, or Mistress Claira knew how to make a brilliant stone face.

"Splints? Tourniquets? Stitches?", the healer asked. Elem opened his eyes, seeing her own kind but firm eyes looking back at him. "Yes, yes and no. I have read about stitches but have never had the opportunity to do one myself." His superior looked him over and then beckoned him with a single finger. "Come with me, Bree."

by **Elem Bree** on February 8th, 2012, 6:50 am

The two walked to the far end of the room, a bed hidden from view behind curtains pulled around a bed. Once they breached the fabric veil, the smell of infection assaulted Elem's nose. His face automatically turned down at the malodorous sensation, but he stood there anyway, knowing it was a smell he would have to get used to. It wasn't something covered in any books he had read. An older man, perhaps in his forties, was lying in the bed, his face pale and sweaty. A girl around Elem's age, dressed in a white surcoat, looked at the two of them, surveying Elem as if he were nothing more than an object for study.

"That will be all, Elia. Let's step outside for a moment. Elem, pull a chair up to Mister Thoms. He is a fisherman who got a little more than he suspected. I will return shortly for your diagnosis." And like that, she was gone. Panic began to sizzle along Elem's neck. He had no idea how long she would be gone, so he didn't hesitate to begin. Looking at the man, it was apparent that he had a grievous wound beneath the pink cloths that were covering his hand and forearm. "Mister Thoms? I am Elem Bree. What happened to you?" The patient's breaths were shallow and warm. He seemed to smack his tongue a bit, which prompted Elem to cradle his head and let him sip some water from a small clay cup and pitcher. The man nodded when he had his fill.

"Thank ye. I was fishin out in ma casinor, droppin crab trap. Winter's best time for em, ya know. Well, I was pullin ma last batch o pods up when ma line got hung on sompin. So, this happens from time ta time. Could be the trap is caught in rocks, could be the line snagged on sompin. Either way, we hav a block an tackle we use fer salvagin that I rigged up to pull the pod up. Worse case, I lose the pods. Or so I thought." He weakly lifted his arm up. Elem nodded, looking around his general area to see if he had anything to use. The basin gave the faintest wisps of heat off, a small bar of soap nearby. He set to washing his hands thoroughly, his nerves easing at the sight of forceps. A candle burned nearby and, to be safe, Elem put the ends of the tool into the flame, holding them there for a few seconds before setting to the task of removing the pus caked bandages. He knew Mistress Claira could return at any moment, but he didn't wish to cause the man too much pain, either.

He stepped closer to the fisherman, bracing the underside of his bicep with his free hand. He pulled the topmost layer of bandaging free, pulling it around the arm, slowly revealing the forearm. "Go on, tell me what happened. If this becomes too painful, let me know." As the forearm came into view, the angry look of puffy skin was the first sight. With each eventual loop of revelation, a long gash showed itself, beginning from the center of the forearm and tracing all the way to the inside of the man's palm. "Well, we were pullin the thing in with the tackle and we could almost see the pods. I could see the pod, it was full o fresh crab. It woulda been enuf ta keep me in tha taverns fer a good week." He became silent as Elem scanned the wound.

by **Elem Bree** on February 8th, 2012, 7:36 am

Elem's head turned back and forth, following the jagged lines of the stitches, which appeared to be...."Fishing line? Did you do this to yourself, Mister Thoms?" The wound had several pockets of infection, various foul smelling pockets oozing along the worse than amateur attempt. Compared to this, he could do any kind of stitching like a professional. Thoms coughed a little and then spoke up. "Ma mate did. I couldn really doit since I past out when it happened." Elem just shook his head, lifting the old bandages and putting them to the side.

"You are lucky to be alive. How long did it take for you to get here when this happened?" Thoms seemed to count the days in his head, his lips moving. His fingers on his good hand tapped out numbers. "Four days. We had ta get the rest o the lines in. When I felt queasy, I slept. When hungry I et." Elem continued to shake his head, sighing. " I hope there is no next time, but if there is, try to get inland. Nothing is worth this." He turned and found that the basin was too cool. He would have to get more hot water. Dumping the used bandages into the basin and lifting it, he stepped through the curtains, only to find Mistress Claira before him.

She motioned to the girl from before, who took the supplies from Elem and whisked them away. "So, you jumped from diagnosis to treatment, did you Bree?" Elem gulped slightly and nodded. " I removed his dressing, which was filthy. I was going to try to clean it up a bit. He has an infection set in from..well, I am not sure what. Could have been the initial accident, could be the conditions on the boat for the four days he left it untreated, could be the fishing line he used to sew it. I would guess that the stitches could be pulled, perhaps an antiseptic tincture applied liberally?" Mistress Claira listened fully and then took a small deep breath. "He'll probably lose the arm. This is a case where we do try to find a healer of Rak'keli, so the man can continue to bring in a bounty, for himself, his family and Zeltiva." Elem believed it could be treated without amputation or magic, but he had no way to prove that, so he remained silent.

Mistress Claira walked with him toward the door. Elem assumed he would not get the job since he had jumped ahead of his instructions. It was in his nature to help others, though. That's why he wasn't a cobbler. " I suspect I will see you in classes soon. I will let you know how it works out then. Good enough, Bree?" Elem nodded and smiled. "Thank you , Mistress Claira. I look forward to hearing from you."

by **Paragon** on February 9th, 2012, 9:55 am

Elem Bree :

Great thread! I enjoyed Elem's diagnosis of the patient, and his questions to find out what had happened. One little grammar thing, nothing major, but just so you're writing is easier to read in future: try to start a new line for each new speaker. That's standard for dialogue. Other than that, you have a job. I need to get the pay confirmed first, but I'll PM you when I have a definite answer. I'll require two "Job" threads showing Elem partaking in his duties for you to qualify for seasonal wages. Unfortunately, wages are owed at the end of this month, so I don't expect majorly long threads - if you have ANY questions or concerns about this grading, don't hesitate to PM me.