Disarmed

Posted on Tue 10th Jul, 2018 @ 11:52pm by Lieutenant Commander Lanis Dhuro MD & Lieutenant Colonel Brooklyn Wellington
Edited on on Tue 10th Jul, 2018 @ 11:54pm

946 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Oblivion
Location: Starbase Vanguard Infirmary
Timeline: MD-3, 0900 hours

Wellington stared at the ceiling of her Infirmary room, attempting to ignore the pain from her lost arm. Although the arm and stub had been numbed to help with the pain, it felt as if she could still feel her fingers and wrist. A glance down immediately showed that it was simply her imagination as she looked back to the ceiling. She had never cared much for hospitals and she was restricted to her bed, making it worse. She was still sore all over from her ordeal and surgery. She felt angry, a part of her wishing she hadn't survived the dogfight. She wouldn't be able to continue flying with one arm--it was a thought that scared and angered her the most.

A knock sounded at her door, and then the tall, elderly surgeon who'd introduced himself to her as Dr. Dhuro slid the door ajar slightly and poked his head in. "Colonel," he said briskly, looking from her to the screen showing her bio-sign readings as he did so, "may I have a word?"

"What do you want, doctor?" she replied bitterly, keeping her eyes on the ceiling.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you," Lanis said. He shut the door and walked to her bedside. "You are clearly one who doesn't avoid what pisses you off, so don't avoid me."

He set down the PADD he'd brought with him and moved to the right side of her bed. "I need to take a look at the wound site on your arm," he said.

"What pisses me off can't be avoided," she snapped, lifting her injured arm slightly for indication. "Being in this hospital pisses me off, this injury pisses me off, my family pisses me off, being alive pisses me off, Doctor!" she now glared at him.

"That being alive thing has pissed me off a time or two, as well," Lanis agreed. He pulled a small medical scanner from his thigh pocket and ran it over the dressing-covered stump of Wellington's arm. "You have good circulation," he said. "Are you still experiencing phantom pain?"

"Yes, and it's driving me crazy!" Wellington snapped again but she took several deep breaths afterwards, feeling weakened at expending so much energy into expressing her anger and frustration. "Besides, why does it even matter if I feel anything or not?"

"Phantom pain will make it possible for you to use a prosthetic forearm," Lanis said. "There are several options, and that's what I came here to discuss with you."

Wellington sighed. "Fine. What are the options?" She only hoped this would allow her to continue to fly, yet the thought of having an artificial arm freaked her out.

"The first is the option of leaving your arm as is," Lanis said. "It's not unheard-of, and some people prefer that to having, as they put it, 'some clunky thing' on their limb. If you opt for a prosthetic device, there are detachable ones--meaning they fit onto the stump of your arm and can be removed at night and for showering. Those have limited dexterity, sensation, and strength, but your body will never reject them. There are also biosynthetic ones, in which a titanium skeleton forearm would be grafted into your existing bones, onto which synthetic muscles, nerve connections, and skin would be fitted or grown. The advantages of a grafted prosthesis are that it's always there, and it will feel like your arm. It will have strength, dexterity, and sensory sensitivity comparable to that of the forearm you were born with. You'll stop feeling the phantom pain because your biological nerves will be grafted to synthetic nerves, which will carry your brain's signals to your fingertips. The disadvantage is that a fraction of one percent of patients have an immune reaction to it and reject it."

Lanis activated his PADD and unfolded its case stand. He slid his fingers over the screen and then set it on Brooklyn's tray table for her to look at. "I don't expect you to make this sort of decision on the spur of the moment," he said. "Take a look at these, see how they operate, and take some time to decide what you're willing to live with and risk."

Wellington took the PaDD and looked at the options. "Without an arm, I might as well be dead...I won't be able to fly again," she commented, automatically throwing that idea out. She looked at the other two options. "So I can either become part Borg or a test tube arm," she sighed. "Let's go for the biosynthetic arm," she said after a minute.

Despite his advice about caution and taking time, Lanis nodded and accepted Wellington's decision without protest. They were both used to making swift decisions and committing to them; to pretend otherwise would be grossly disrespectful to her.

"Very well. I'll write the orders and get the process started. We'll run some tests--neural conductivity, and so on." Lanis retrieved his PADD and folded it back into its case. "We'll use the scan of your right arm from your most recent physical as our guide and work from there. We'll need a couple of days to replicate the component parts from the scans. Your surgery will happen as soon as I can juggle the OR schedule to fit you in. It will take a good eight hours, possibly longer, so warn your friends to bring a good book with them when they show up that day."

"Great," she sighed impatiently. "I'm on a waiting list for an arm," Wellington complained as she rolled over in the bed, turning her back to Lanis as tears finally flowed down, wetting her pillow.

 

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