08-13-2018, 08:44 PM
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//asdfjs youre both too nice
+ hey no your writing is also great listen to ado
Pip would never experience the passage of time or the earning of love across a very long lifespan. He was, by all accounts, painfully human, and in comparison to many of the people out there -they'd had a few at the clinic, desperate enough that keeping their secret was less important than living- however long he lived would be a blink of an eye, any of his capabilities unremarkable. It was- humbling, almost, although Pip was aware even before knowing of the types of people there were that life was incredibly fragile, especially when it belonged to a race known for reckless decisions and harebrained ideas. And conflict. It was best not to forget that part, and despite how some assumed him to be vapidly naïve, he was fully aware of the things people could do to each other. This stranger wouldn't be the first beneath his hands relying on medical attention to wounds inflicted by another party.
Pip was caught between a weariness of it and taking the reality of it in stride. The important part was that he managed, and that he hadn't lost very many patients thus far. More than he would have liked to, but he didn't know if anyone had ever finished a career with zero patients lost on the table.
He would do his best to keep that number from changing today, and at least he would have a bit of help, although he was admittedly wary about the prospect, if only because he didn't want him pushing his abilities too far and taking too much. "If you're certain. Just- be careful. I'd rather not have two patients right now." That wasn't to say he couldn't handle it, as the clinic had only been Pip and his parents, but he preferred to devote his energy to the severely injured stranger. Because of that near single-minded focus, he didn't pay much mind to the woman's comment aimed at the assistant, instead following as the very tall man lowered his partner down on the sidewalk. The man wasn't far from their side, holding their hand, and Pip took a deep breath, aware of how much would be lost if he didn't succeed.
Failure wasn't an option. He wouldn't allow it.
Pip knelt beside them, pulling a small pillow from his satchel and gently situating it beneath their head. Signs of head trauma were clear, and it was very possible they had a concussion; any worse brain damage and they would probably be dead already. Pip snapped on plastic gloves and set about cutting away clothing from the wound on their chest, where he could see, beyond the cut, their ribs were slightly misshapen, with prominent bruising. Likely a puncture. Pip wished he could work in absolutes, know with a hundred percent certainty, but without equipment- he would do what he could. The most important thing was getting them to breathe. It wasn't a simple pneumothorax, not at the moment. "Tension pneumothorax," he muttered to himself, withdrawing the proper needle. He wasn't thrilled to proceed with a needle thoracostomy, but in an emergency, the risks would have to be taken, so, estimating the air build-up, he inserted the needle until the syringe filled with air, decompressing that area of the lung. "I've decompressed the lung of the excess air, so they should be able to breathe fully now. I'll have to monitor for build-up."
Of course, that was only part of the procedure. Shifted from a tension pneumothorax to a simple, he had to use insert a catheter. It would further drain the air, and allow the lung to inflate, so unless there were sudden complications, that was an injury temporarily treated. From there, Pip addressed the gash, retrieving a jar from his bag of cayenne pepper. Not a conventional solution, but it would effectively encourage clotting, and he sprinkled it over the wound, glancing at their face briefly for any changes in consciousness. Biting his cheek, he turned back, finishing the application; when the wound stopped bleeding, he could clean it with saline and stitch it, though until then, he turned to the other injuries. His experienced eye was drawn to their leg, and again, he cut away cloth to evaluate. "Nothing's broken the skin outward." The sight of a bone protrusion wouldn't have caught him off guard, but he was glad that wasn't the case. "I can't say for certain yet, but the leg is likely broken."
[div style="width: 507px; text-align: justify; line-height: 1.1"]+ hey no your writing is also great listen to ado
Pip would never experience the passage of time or the earning of love across a very long lifespan. He was, by all accounts, painfully human, and in comparison to many of the people out there -they'd had a few at the clinic, desperate enough that keeping their secret was less important than living- however long he lived would be a blink of an eye, any of his capabilities unremarkable. It was- humbling, almost, although Pip was aware even before knowing of the types of people there were that life was incredibly fragile, especially when it belonged to a race known for reckless decisions and harebrained ideas. And conflict. It was best not to forget that part, and despite how some assumed him to be vapidly naïve, he was fully aware of the things people could do to each other. This stranger wouldn't be the first beneath his hands relying on medical attention to wounds inflicted by another party.
Pip was caught between a weariness of it and taking the reality of it in stride. The important part was that he managed, and that he hadn't lost very many patients thus far. More than he would have liked to, but he didn't know if anyone had ever finished a career with zero patients lost on the table.
He would do his best to keep that number from changing today, and at least he would have a bit of help, although he was admittedly wary about the prospect, if only because he didn't want him pushing his abilities too far and taking too much. "If you're certain. Just- be careful. I'd rather not have two patients right now." That wasn't to say he couldn't handle it, as the clinic had only been Pip and his parents, but he preferred to devote his energy to the severely injured stranger. Because of that near single-minded focus, he didn't pay much mind to the woman's comment aimed at the assistant, instead following as the very tall man lowered his partner down on the sidewalk. The man wasn't far from their side, holding their hand, and Pip took a deep breath, aware of how much would be lost if he didn't succeed.
Failure wasn't an option. He wouldn't allow it.
Pip knelt beside them, pulling a small pillow from his satchel and gently situating it beneath their head. Signs of head trauma were clear, and it was very possible they had a concussion; any worse brain damage and they would probably be dead already. Pip snapped on plastic gloves and set about cutting away clothing from the wound on their chest, where he could see, beyond the cut, their ribs were slightly misshapen, with prominent bruising. Likely a puncture. Pip wished he could work in absolutes, know with a hundred percent certainty, but without equipment- he would do what he could. The most important thing was getting them to breathe. It wasn't a simple pneumothorax, not at the moment. "Tension pneumothorax," he muttered to himself, withdrawing the proper needle. He wasn't thrilled to proceed with a needle thoracostomy, but in an emergency, the risks would have to be taken, so, estimating the air build-up, he inserted the needle until the syringe filled with air, decompressing that area of the lung. "I've decompressed the lung of the excess air, so they should be able to breathe fully now. I'll have to monitor for build-up."
Of course, that was only part of the procedure. Shifted from a tension pneumothorax to a simple, he had to use insert a catheter. It would further drain the air, and allow the lung to inflate, so unless there were sudden complications, that was an injury temporarily treated. From there, Pip addressed the gash, retrieving a jar from his bag of cayenne pepper. Not a conventional solution, but it would effectively encourage clotting, and he sprinkled it over the wound, glancing at their face briefly for any changes in consciousness. Biting his cheek, he turned back, finishing the application; when the wound stopped bleeding, he could clean it with saline and stitch it, though until then, he turned to the other injuries. His experienced eye was drawn to their leg, and again, he cut away cloth to evaluate. "Nothing's broken the skin outward." The sight of a bone protrusion wouldn't have caught him off guard, but he was glad that wasn't the case. "I can't say for certain yet, but the leg is likely broken."
THEY HAD LIGHTS INSIDE THEIR EYES / INFORMATION / UPDATED 08/11/2018:
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[div style="font-family:impact; font-size:16pt; color:#c2926e; padding:10px; line-height:1"]YOU THOUGHT BY NOW YOU'D BE
SO MUCH BETTER THAN YOU ARE
[div style="font-family:impact; font-size:16pt; color:#c2926e; padding:10px; line-height:1"]YOU THOUGHT BY NOW YOU'D BE
SO MUCH BETTER THAN YOU ARE