Most Infectious

[Amaris]

5th Ashan 718

- common / murnasian

They had not been among the other green cloaks, arriving much later. For once, they could not blame their tardiness on the inability to move or lethargy, but rather their predominant source of income. The councilor had a fair amount of work already that they had begun to neglect in the last legs of the previous season. They could not say they were proud of that in any way, but it was a good sign - they hoped - for them to make it out the door and not turn back after a bit or two. Wringing their hands nervously as they climbed up the steps of the Order, they had considered turning right around. It would have saved everyone a fair amount of trouble, in hindsight.

There were memories that were still fresh, blood laced with terror. If they blinked, they might still be able to see it. No; it was now morphed into the image of survivors of the incident at the docks, holding on just barely. Like that man had been. They shoved the image of him as far back as they could in their mind - which wasn't very far. He was there just beyond their focus as they began to clean their hands and sterilize the tools. Glancing at one woman in particular, shaking with chills and mumbling something through her fever, they imagined that this might have been where the man would end up. That they might have been able to get him to the Order after initially caring for him if they had done their duty.

Steps quick and thoughts abuzz, Amaris crossed to the woman. Obviously something was amiss; an infection from her wounds not seen to quickly enough, perhaps. The room, though full of green specks as they moved past them and flitted between patients, was occupied with more people than they had ever seen from a single event. Maybe it was because they were not often here, but they wondered how anyone could keep up the hope. But that wasn't a thought they ought to be focusing on.

Instead, they looked back to the woman, doing first a cursory examination before tentatively checking her wounds for which one might have been infected. It was the smell that hit them first before they saw it, and the puss leaking out onto the cot underneath. They sucked in a breath, not entirely sure of how to proceed. From what they could understand, the rate of infection to the woman's leg was already quite severe, but...Lifting their gaze again, they searched the room for Faith or another more senior member of the Order.[/font][/style2]

[Faith Augustin]

Faith was exhausted. She hadn't slept at this point in five trials and she was nearly at her maximum ability to function. However, she had snatched catnaps here and there and she had to keep going. Earlier in the trial - or was it yesterday - she'd spoken to all the green cloaks about the dangers of infection but here, now, they were really seeing those dangers set in. Now that people had survived the immediate effects, there were all sorts of issues which were going to crop up. Faith wished more than anything that she could be everywhere at once, but she gave thanks to Moseke, Yvithia, Famula, Vri and all the Immortals who cared that the Videnese had helped. The University here and the Academy there had some of the best minds in medicine and Faith was more relieved, and grateful than she could say.

Even Argus Hamilton-Smith was here and she had to admit, he was good. Good enough that he'd saved a number of lives and limbs. Faith had just been working on a young child - a boy about six or seven arcs who had sustained severe chest wounds. That had made things difficult as the child had been having significant difficult breathing, but she had persevered and done so probably against her own advice, in truth. Before being a mother, Faith had found it hardest when they'd unsuccessfully treated children, but since the birth of the twins, she had found it next to impossible to walk away from a child. So, she had poured as much healing from her Moseke mark into the boy as she could and then, finally, he had breathed easily and she'd been able to leave his wounds to the others.

Because there was a man in room six, apparently, who was in a bad way. Room six, bed five. Faith made her way there, grabbing a bottle of the antiseptic water as she moved between rooms, pouring it on to a cloth and then her hands. Room six, bed five. Right next to Amaris, who was working on bed four. "Hello, my name's Faith," she said to the man, but he was unconscious. Touching her hand to the man's forehead, Faith frowned. He was burning up. There was an infection somewhere. Without preamble, or concern for his dignity, she pulled the sheets off him and started to examine him. Here, too, it was a leg. "I've got a stage three infection here!" Faith called, and then looked at Amaris and gave a slight, tight lipped smile. "How's she?" Looking at the woman Amaris was looking at, Faith craned her neck and sighed slightly. "Make that two of them. Please bring kits and draw the curtains," she said and began to tie a tourniquet around the man's leg, just above the knee. Looking at Amaris as green cloaks fluttered around, Faith was a sea of calm. "Together?"

What she meant by that, she didn't say. Were they amputating limbs in unison or trying to save them? First, she needed to know if Amaris was with her.

[Amaris]

- common / murnasian

The mixed blood was more than delighted to have a more familiar face to ask questions. They watched as she checked the infection with furrowed brows. They should have been able to do this by now, but of course they'd hindered their own studies. Amaris would admit to that. They had stunted themselves with their own problems and now they needed to burden Faith with shouldering their inexperience. The relief they had previously felt was washed away by the conclusion that they had managed to make themselves a burden rather be of help. That was, it would seem, their curse: to forever be a hinderance. They didn't need a voice prattling on in their head for that much to have been made clear in the last few fortnight or so.

Swallowing, they listened to the woman call out instructions with baited breath. If they felt nothing more than a deep sense of inadequacy, there would also be envy. Envy of Faith and how calm she appeared. They'd only been here a few bits and, while not entirely visible, they were a mess. 'Together?' They locked eyes with her a moment before letting their gaze drop back down. Together - what? They weren't quite sure, but they knew enough to trust Faith and whatever it was that she had planned. Looking back to her, Amaris nodded. "Together." In the back of their mind, they could only hope that they wouldn't slow the more experienced healer. Shoving their sleeves up their arms, they awaited Faith's next directives and would do as told eagerly.

[Faith Augustin]

Together, Amaris agreed and Faith nodded. "Alright, well get the tourniquet on, because we're going to need it either way." They had to get this infection down, Faith knew. "What I'm going to do here is drain as much of the pus and infected fluid as I can, in to then pack the wound with medicine. It might. We won't know until we open them and then, it's a judgement call." Faith looked up at Amaris and she smiled just slightly.

Since the beginning of this, Faith had done her best to save each person and, sometimes, that had meant amputating limbs. That happened more than she'd like, especially now that they were so damnably busy after the collapse at the docks. She spared a glance to Amaris, but mostly she had to be focused on what she was doing and trust that Amaris would do the same. "Make sure it's as tight as you can make it," she said and she spoke as she worked. "Have you ever drained an infection as large as this? It's difficult," that was fine, Amaris could do it Faith was sure and she was here if she was needed. "The nurse will put a bowl under the bed, and we'll use the scalpels to cut a fine one-inch incision." She glanced at Amaris, "You need not to panic. There will be a lot, and the smell will be bad. We have to get it out of the body, though. Alright."

Once they were set up, and Faith had talked through the contents of the kit the nurse put on both beds. There were no strange instruments there, but one thing that Faith knew was that a wasted few trill searching for something after they'd cut could make the difference between life and death. "Alright. All ready? Your aim is to cut, ensuring that you miss arteries and so on. Hit as few blood vessels as possible, this is about releasing the infection. On three. One, two, three."

Faith had been a slave for eighteen arcs of her life and she had been in situations of systematic abuse which had meant that she had lived in environments which were not fit for a mortal being to live in. Yet, this process never failed to make her want to vomit. She didn't, but she swallowed hard as she cut and the pus and gunk literally poured out. With cloth underneath the cut, she squeezed until as much of it was out as she could get, the smell assaulting her senses. Even the nurse assisting Faith turned his head to one side, provoking a hissed "Focus on what you are doing!" from the usually placid and even-tempered young woman.

"Once it's stopped flowing, we squeeze. When no more comes out having pressure applied, we swab. And then, we pack it." Once they had done that, Faith said, they would mark the affected area, concentric circles of very red and hot, red or hot, pink or warm. Then they'd keep constant observations. "If it gets worse or doesn't start getting better within three breaks, we amputate." Faith said. She looked at Amaris, just a glance.

"You alright over there?"