saveourearth | We shall rebuild [mingle]

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We shall rebuild [mingle]

Date: 2/1/19
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With the festive season well and truly over, and most wallets smarting from the festivities, Mossgate has, as usual, been extremely quiet through January. The last of the sales are still lingering in the stores, hoping to entice any shoppers who aren't desperately holding out for that first January pay day at the end of the month, and the seafront is empty of all but the hardiest dog walkers, wrapped up against the cold winter winds. At least the evenings are finally starting to ever so slowly get a little bit lighter, but that's small compensation for the otherwise grey and dull month.

It seems as though it will drag on this way all the way through to February, but on the afternoon of the 20th Mossgate is shaken awake. Literally. A 4.5 magnitude earthquake hits the town just after 3:15PM, with the epicentre located at the mouth of the Moss River. The shaking lasts for a couple of seconds, and sends a couple of chimney stacks flying, but there's very little real damage done around town. As earthquakes are extremely rare in the UK, most people are unsure what is happening, and most report it to the media as assuming that a bomb had gone off, or a lorry gone past, or something similar.

Almost immediately the internet lights up with the usual British response to such events, and it's headline news on the local papers and TV for the next few days. Initially they cover the event and the clean up, and then the social media response to it.

However, those who have numbers will not just be subjected to the initial scare and then the following ridicule. As the shaking fades, an unsettled feeling starts to rise; subtly at first, but increasing as the days go by. They are left feeling anxious and uneasy, but also curious and excited. In particular, they will find themselves drawn to the earthquake and the information about it, perhaps checking the news or social media about it more than they usually would, or easier to draw into conversations about it. Whatever they can find just doesn't seem to be enough, and they're drawn to discuss it and the other unusual events (such as the appearance of the poppies in November, or the strange gifts over Christmas) of late more, and to find out more about them. It can be ignored, but as any niggling annoyance it won't disappear if it is.

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"...So this was done by a blade?" It's a bit of a stab in the dark, but if it caused this big a cut wound a blade is as good a guess as any. Probably wasn't a club, at least.

She starts getting to work, first of all clearing and cleaning the area around the wound. She's not warning that it might hurt, because that tends to make people hurt more. At least, aided by her new seeing ability, she can determine that nothing is infected yet. Good.

"Can you describe the weapon more?"

“Bladed edge, yes,” he specifies without releasing more detail as he looks away from both the doctor and his leg as he wraps his arms over his chest. The less he answers, the less he has to think about the weapons now sitting in the shed, so even prompted to describe them, he keeps it short, “A pair of fingerless gauntlets. The outer edges are sharp, but otherwise they look like armor.”

The cleaning stings enough to make him flinch, but Benjiro makes every effort to stay still and quiet about the pain as she works. It had hurt washing it out at the river’s edge, so the pain now had been anticipated.

“Do you think it’d be reasonable to blame this on a rock?” he asks as he tries to shift focus to covering for the Echo.

"...Not really, no. The cut is way to clean. Do you think someone will look at it?" She keeps working, which is slow going because she's being very thorough. But if he's been walking around with this for a while, and since he can't just go to any doctor about it, she'd rather give it the best care that she can now than have him have to come back later.

"Also if it gets infected, please make an appointment with me immediately. We can't risk it getting to a stage where you need a specialist." She doubts that it would, but she can't appeal to common sense and against pride enough when it comes to medical matters.

“I don’t plan to show it to anyone, but I’d rather be ready with an explanation,” because things happen that he cannot control. His leg is kept immobile as she continues to work on cleaning it out thoroughly, and he glances for a moment at the wound. Voice softer, he considers an alternative, “Maybe from the edge of a metal shelf at work... A damaged one.” That should suffice in shifting blame hopefully.

Warned to watch for infection, he looks to Mary Ann as he readily agrees, “I will. I should look for redness, swelling, localized heat, a fever, and drainage with an increase of amount or changes in color or viscosity. Is that correct?” Basic first aid and care were things he learned when he took charge of his sister’s well-being.

"Good plan.

...Could also have been broken glass in the water, people are that kind of irresponsible, after all. Though then you have to explain why you were in the water.

And yes, all of those. But also and perhaps most readily noticeable because we don't look at our legs all that often - thrumming pain. The kind that feels like someone is playing drums inside you. I'd watch out for any kind of pain down there, but that one is a fairly good sign that there's an infection happening."

“That would be a good alternative,” he says as he considers the unsettlingly plausible excuse for use at work where, if he blamed the shelf, he would be asked to identify the culprit edge and fill out an incident report for something that did not happen. Different stories to different parties that do not communicate could be utilized if absolutely necessary. Being prepared is what matters right now.

Warned against an additional sign of infection, he nods his head faintly, “I will be mindful for it. Thank you.” Hopefully he can keep the healing site clean and avoid any infection at all.

Waiting until Mary Ann has finished cleaning the wound thoroughly, Benjiro asks her, “…how many stitches do you think it needs?”

"Only a few. We can use the regular thread that is supposed to dissolve by itself, or we can use the old-fashioned one that doesn't.

You'd usually use the dissolving one, but in your case..." She's not sure if that would work right.

Head lifted to look to her, Benjiro fills in the blank quite readily, “I understand. Better to use the inert thread and clip the knots to pull later.” That much he should be able to do for himself if Mary Ann is otherwise occupied. Should she want to see him back for it, he will make no objections.

Brows furrowing mildly as he reclines his head, he asks, “...do you think I should avoid taking medications?” He is lucky in that he has no prescriptions he needs regularly.

"...I wish I could say something else, but I think using any form of medication on you right now wouldn't be advisable.

Your body just may not do the same thing with it any more that a regular human body would." And without that tested, it's like playing Russian roulette. "This includes painkillers."

It makes logical sense, and when Mary Ann points out the inclusion of pain killers, he immediately relates the use of numbing agents that might normally be employed to reduce discomfort with stitches.

The teenager breathes a little deeper before he lets out a groan of dread and covers his face with both hands. He has no way to refute the concern, and he will have to endure it. Rubbing at his face he voices his consent, “Okay. ...we can call it a historical experience.” The stab at humor is weak but he is trying. Now, the care of the wound is all the more important knowing oral antibiotic treatment might not be safe if it does become infected.

His remark makes him blink, trying to follow his train of thought, and then she slowly nods.

She just meant it in general, because they are the most commonly taken (and cheapest available) medication out there. But there's not going to be any local anaesthesia either.

"Do you want to distract yourself while I do this? Play on your phone or something?"

The only thing that had kept Benjiro from taking over the counter analgesics earlier was a concern of further damaging his wound with too much activity as a result until it could be treated.

Actively using his phone might not turn out well if he flinches and ends up squeezing it too hard, but it still might be of use, “I would prefer it. Will the sound bother you if I listen to a video?”

Edited 2019-05-29 18:29 (UTC)

"Not at all, go ahead." She briefly grins. "I have five children, I've long gotten used to keeping a steady hand while there's all kinds of chatter and sounds around."

“I can’t even imagine. One sister was distracting enough sometimes,” especially when they were both younger and Benjiro was still figuring out how to cook.

Benjiro fishes out his phone and taps it to open a video, setting the device up next to his head with the sound set in the low to midrange. He crosses his arms over his chest, and attempts to put his full focus on the analysis of the video topic even as a mild nausea rises in anticipation of pain.

The pain will be surprisingly little and brief, but it will still be there, undoubtedly.

Mary Ann has a quick, steady hand, and while she's no surgeon she has done stitches before at various occasions. This is far from a good situations, but it's also not the worst that it could be.

For all the anticipation, the skilled hand guiding the needle and thread makes the process tolerable. Benjiro still flinches each time the tip pierces the skin, but his arms slacken somewhat as he maintains a still position as the patient. Listening with his focus on the video, he concentrates on the phone next to him rather than his leg.

Enough so that when the doctor is finished, he doesn’t realize it immediately.

She leaves him there for a bit, or rather, as long as she needs to put away her utensils.

Giving the feeling of the sewn up wound a bit to settle before he notices everything as well as giving him the chance of coming back to it at his own pace.

If he doesn't notice her moving around, she'll speak up after a bit. "We're done. Make sure to keep the area clean - disinfectant will do a good job, if you get something on it - for the next couple of hours, so it can settle." They can't be careful enough with this. Not if they can't send him on to the next doctor or ply him with antibiotics if something happens.

The sound of her footsteps and movements away from him does draw his attention back, and he reaches to tap the phone to stop the video. Pocketing his phone, he pushes up on one hand to lean and look around at the side of his calf. With muscle no longer exposed, it looks much better despite the soreness left from the process of stitching it up.

He looks to Mary Ann as she provides instructions, and he nods as he sits himself up further with careful movement to bring both legs down over the edge of the table. “Okay. Would it be okay to wrap it up for the next day or two then?” If nothing else it might make sure he doesn’t snag the stitches on anything by accident.

She watches him move. "Ideally, you would put as little strain as possible on it for the next three days. Try to uncover it entirely and put it up so that it's about level with your hips.

But you can cover it to move around. Just don't tighten whatever you use as a cover too much, you don't want to apply unnecessary pressure."

That exposure and limited use of the muscles under the stitches might prove tricky around his great aunts. Still, he understands her instructions and nods to show it, “Okay. I’ll do that as much as I can.”

Flexing his hip to raise his now stitched leg, he methodically works to bring the cloth of his pants back down into the normal position to cover it. He has to drive back to the house after all. Once covered, he stands with less weight on that leg and offers a small bow to the doctor with a smile, “Thank you again. For everything.”

"No problem."

And then something occurs to her. Better doublecheck before she says something to the wrong persons... "...You are going to tell your aunts about the injury, right?"

Straightening, he looks off to the side as his lips thin briefly with hesitation. Gaze returning to Mary Ann, he answers her with his voice quieter, "I'd rather not." The less he has to lie to them outright, the better for his peace of mind.

She looks at him for a long moment, and then sighs. "All right. I will make sure to not mention it to them, then." Otherwise she would probably have asked how he's healing when she sees them next.

He recognizes the constraint his preference places on her, and it’s a relief when she agrees, “Thank you... I don’t want to worry them.”

At least in being neighbors she should have opportunities to ask him directly.

"They'll worry more if they can feel you hiding something from them."

But it's not her decision to make, and she won't intervene and make it for him.

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warped_replica - 2019-07-06 22:23 (UTC) - Expand

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catted - 2019-07-07 06:20 (UTC) - Expand

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