Training Open The Doctor's In! (And... very inexperienced.)

[FinnianBrightfur]

This is a training thread for Finny!

Background: It would be quite public information that a mangey kit was found aboard the Hide, pilfering apples and thieving officer's dinners. But to everyone's surprise, the captain had mercy on him, and put him to work at the ship's infirmary.

In an entirely unrelated turn of events, there was also a big to-do about fleas on the ship about the time he showed up. However, rumors that Finn brought them onboard were entirely unfounded, and Finn firmly denied all alegations of such uncleanliness.

The ship firmly believed in baptism by fire, and had tasked Finn with record keeping, intake of new patients, and care for minor injuries. The surgeon would supervise, of course... but you might leave worse off than you came in until Finn improves his skills! But at the same time, the more he learns, and the sooner he learns it... the better.

For everyone.

How does this work?

This is meant to be a fun thread of short vignettes, to help flesh out people's characters, and get Finn experience. Expect three or four posts per patient. Feel free to weave the injury into your character's story, if you wish! (Or, just enjoy the one off, and discard the results.) These stories are meant to be fairly trivial to the overall plot, and should be written so they could have plausibly happened at any time. Injuries related to major plots will likely be handled in different threads.

Start by picking a malady. There are many that can occurr at sea -- with accidents and illnesses most prominent. Naval medicine is rather primitive (and painful!) Badly broken limbs are often amputated -- so maybe let's stick with easier things to start with, things that could be taken care of at an urgent care clinic.

If you're looking for an idea, dice rolling can help tell a story.

0 - 25	Laceration / Splinter
26 - 35	Sprain
35 - 45	Blunt Trauma
46 - 60	General Cold or Illness
61 - 70	Fleas or Mange
71 - 80	Food Poisoning
81 - 95	Dehydration
96 - 99	Burn

The number could indicate the severity. A laceration of 0 is just a scratch, but 25 would require stitches, or could be infected.

For the sake of simplicity, let's try to keep it to one patient at a time. Everyone will be seen, and repeat customers won't be turned away! If you have any special ideas, feel free to DM me on Discord!

Once you're ready, simply write a post of your character walking (or being carried) into the infirmary! Describe what's going on, and Finn will get to work patching you back up -- and most importantly, doing paperwork.

Treated Patients: 3
Successfully Treated Patients: 3
Injuries Caused: 1
Hours of Bilge Pumping: 2

Days Since Last Accident: 1

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Swifttail had forgotten just how much he despised being on a boat. The first time he set paw on one back when he was a bright-eyed young kit, invited on a three-day excursion from his village, he had spent most of it hanging over the railing, feeding the fishes. Then came the nine months of shackles and splinters, chained to an oar in the belly of a slaver’s galley, where the constant motion made every day a misery. And even after that, after scraping by on a dinghy out at sea, he had never quite mastered the rhythm of the waves.

The calm days were tolerable. Even the choppy waters of Bully Harbor, when they first set sail, had only left him swaying a bit. But now, on a rolling sea of three-to-five-foot waves, Swifttail was clinging to his guts like a sailor clings to a lifeline in a storm.

By morning, he’d barely managed to crawl out of his hammock before his stomach made it clear that breakfast was not an option. His head spun, the world tilted, and soon enough, he was spending more time hanging over the side of the Hide than at his assigned station. He hardly recalled someone taking pity on him and sending him to the infirmary. Only that the journey below deck had been a nightmare of swaying corridors and reeling vision, and by the time he arrived, he was in a dreadful state. Drool and vomit clung to his front like some wretched badge of misery, his legs barely held him upright, and the only thing keeping him from collapsing onto the nearest cot was sheer stubbornness.

At least, he thought, he’d finally get some relief. He pictured an old sea-rat or a grizzled weasel, the kind of ship’s doctor who’d seen it all and had a stash of bitter elixirs and magic tablets to cure any ailment. Someone who could fix him with a single knowing look before handing him a potion that would settle his insides.

What he did not expect was the twelve-year-old fox todd standing in the middle of the infirmary, blinking up at him like a startled hare.

Swifttail’s stomach twisted again, not just from nausea this time, but from uncertainty about the young fox’s knowledge of healing.

Any other day, with a clearer head, he would have said something. A sharp but gentle remark, a demand to see an actual doctor, some hopefully not too discouraging comment about trusting a child with anything more than peeling potatoes. But as another sickening lurch rocked the ship, his stomach clenched violently, and desperation clawed its way to the front of his mind.

He staggered toward Finn with wild, pleading eyes, his dignity long since lost to the sea.

“Lad, if y’know even the smallest trick t’stop this wretchedness, I swear I’ll owe ya.”

It wasn’t pride speaking now, it was raw, unfiltered desperation. Because if this fox kit had any idea how to end Swifttail’s torment, then at this moment, he might as well have been the finest doctor on the high seas.

 

[FinnianBrightfur]

Finn was rather shocked himself how quickly he had progressed into the good favor of The Hide and it's crew. Most of them, at least. Some beasts were a bit jealous of the new face, given what stowaways should have very well faced as punishment. That, and there was the matter of the fleas...

But here he was, thrust into the infirmary to help care for the crew. It was fitting, really. They were taking care of him, and Finn was eager to return the favor. However, the gargantuan task was quite intimidating. Having someone's life in your paws was a grave matter.

When Swift stumbled down into the infirmary, Finny was busy exploring the various cupboards, drawers, and cabinets that held the surgeon's tools, medicine, and implements. His stomach churned as he looked at the various metal scalpels, blades, forceps, and saws, imagining their grisly usage. Just the thought made him weak at the knees.

But boyish, morbid curiosity got the best of him. No one was around, and perhaps the best way to overcome your fears was to face them directly. Finn reached out for the biggest bonesaw in the cabinet, and held it carefully in his paws. He tweaked the blade with a clawtip and listened to it sing, before gently touching a few teeth to see just how sharp it was.

And that's when Swift came in, and startled him. "GATES ALIVE!" he cried out, whipping the saw behind his back, to hide it from view, and splitting the tip of his finger in the process. "YEOW! Yow, hnnn!!!" he yelped, quickly stuffing the saw back into the cabinet, and plugging his fingertip into his muzzle.

What a great first day.

Finny tasted copper, and pulled his fingertip out of his muzzle. He'd only nicked it, but good gravy. He was technically the second patient on his shift.

"D'djo cut yerself, Finny?" came a stern voice from the other room, the surgeon.

Finn gave a startled glance across the room, and returned to look at Swift with bewilderment. How did the surgeon know what was happening, without even seeing it?

"What did I tell you? If y'don't take care of yerself, how'r you gonna take care of others? Now the patient has to wait!" came the grumpy reply.

"J-just a minute!" pleaded the kit apologetically, nervously rummaging through the cabinets for something to wrap his finger in.

"Finny?" / "Yes?" / "Get the beast a bucket, or you'll have a mess to clean up, too!" / "Aye!" / "I told you, don't let a bad situation get worse, Finn!" / "Aye, sir!"

The foxkit clutched the rag in his paw as he dashed over to fetch Swift a bucket, and quickly passed it to the older fox. "S-sorry! Just one moment!" he blustered, trying his best to give Swift a disarming smile.

"CONFIDENCE, FINNY!" thundered the voice in the other room, pounding a desk for effect. "You want the patient to have CONFIDENCE!" Harsh as it may have sounded, the surgeon knew what he was doing. Chaos was overwhelming, and Finn needed to learn how to handle pressures from all angles if he were to be any good at this. Though Swift would have to suffer a little from the kit's inexperience, he wouldn't be too much worse for the wear.

With a sizeable bandage clumsily tied around his paw, the foxkit rushed back to attend to Swift. "W-what'd you say was wrong with ye?" he asked, putting on his best smile.

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Swifttail graciously received the bucket and sat down on the floor of the infirmary, spitting some of the bile that collected at the back of his throat out of his maw, it hitting the bottom of the pail with a wet smack. His stomach was already quite empty from his violent bouts of sick earlier. He watched as the the young creature put him on hold and began quickly and clumsily bandaging his own paw while an older, gruff voice chided him from the back room. Finn was clearly in over his head, and Swifttail hoped that he had at least enough composure to get him some relief.

When Finn returned, and had asked what ailed him, Swift responded through waves of nausea and bad breath.

"Finny, I'm *hurk* I'm a wrek. Me head keeps spinnin'. The ceaseless waves *gurrgh* t...they'll be the death of me."

With that he spit up more bile into the bucket.

@FinnianBrightfur

 

[FinnianBrightfur]

Did you know Finn had a sympathetic gag reflex? At the gut wrenching noise that came from Swift, Finn's shoulders heaved and he clamped a paw over his muzzle.

"*hurk* Awh no! That's *HURRRRK* -- that's awful!" sympathized the kit.

"Oh how horrible! If only we could DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!" barked the voice from the back office.

"Right! Uh... uh hold on! Ginger?"

"What are you gonna do, make him gnaw on the root?"

Finny held a finger up to Swift for a moment. "I need to run to the galley real quick! I'm gonna get you some ginger beer, ok?"

But before he could dash off, the surgeon stuck his head out the back office. He was an absolutely massive Pine Martin, both in height, and in strength. And while his face was grave and serious, the anger subsided for a brief moment. "Make it two, Finny. And bring some extra root for the seabeast to keep in his pocket if the nausea returns!"

Finn was off like a shot to the galley -- which was on another deck. The surgeon sat watching Swift, burly arms folded across his torso, and a look of consternation on his face. Seemingly, he didn't like having to babysit a kit -- but that wasn't really his decision to make now, was it?

Finn returned in a short while, with two mugs of ginger beer. (Was... was there a little tropical umbrella in one?) Finn handed the mugs off to the patients, before looking back at Swifttail for a moment to study him, and think of anything else he had forgotten. Whenever Finn felt ill like this, he always felt sweaty and hot. OH! Oh that's it!

"Uh... look, can you sit down for... Err. You should sit down for a minute!" Guiding the poor seabeast over to a freshly made hammock, Finn would help him in, before fetching a damp rag of fresh water for his mate's forehead.

The Pine Martin looked on with approval, and slurped noisily from his mug. "Well done, Finn," he said gruffly. The foxkit beamed at Swift, before wilting as the surgeon barked, "PAPERWORK! One for you, and one for 'im!" Oh, that's right... technically he had to document his injury as well...

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Swifttail felt terrible for inciting Finn to also gag, and proceeded to sit there in shame as the silliness of the situation set in. He had joined this crew to be useful, and instead he was sitting below deck, unable to perform his duties, while sickening his other crew beast in the process. What an embarrassment he was.

When Finn returned with the Ginger Beer, he sipped it slowly, lest it came back up, and accepted the additional ginger root from Finn's bloodied bandaged paw. The hastily applied gauze was clearly the work of an amateur. The bubbles of the cool beverage seemed to instantly help clear some of the nausea, though his head was still spinning.

"Uh... look, can you sit down for... Err. You should sit down for a minute!"

Swift stood up shakily, leaving the bucket where it stood, and let himself be guided to the hammock. He sat, then proceeded to lounge back against the pillow. His nausea had subsided quite a bit from his fits of gagging and outright spewing and the hammock, acting as a shock absorber to some of the motion of the ship, was helping the dizziness diminish. The cold rag Finny provided him also was greatly appreciated, grounding him back from the anxiety the motion sickness had caused him.

He felt better, but as the clarity returned to his mind, he noticed something peculiar. He sure did wish he had been given some assistance removing his soiled naval uniform so he wasn't lying there, still covered in his own vomit...

 

[FinnianBrightfur]

Finn settled down to work on paperwork at a nearby desk, and pulled out parchment and a quill to fill out the required information in the ship's log. Of course, there was the date and time of injury, and the cause -- and the assessment. Something he forgot to do in the spur of the moment, which is why he missed the soiled uniform.

"Finn? Didja let him get into the hammock wearing his soiled uniform?"

"No...!" replied Finn uncertainly, before hopping over to the hammock, and looking down at the seasick fox. "...yeeeees?" There was an exasperated sigh from the other room. Finn lingered at the side of the hammock, his eyes pinched together as he studied Swift. There seemed to be more going on than seasickness, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Meanwhile, there were more pressing matters at hand. "Uhm. I think he wants you to take your stuff off..."

Laundry was a sizable task in the infirmary. Finn would help Swift out of his uniform, and back into the hammock -- while collecting his outer garments in a clean bucket to wash. Of course, on the way out of the infirmary, the surgeon would call out from the room. "GATES FINN. Don't leave him like that, give the man a blanket! Do I have to tell y'everything?" Red as a tomato, Finn would quickly come back with a blanket, before dashing off.

He would return about fifteen minutes later with Swift's uniform scrubbed and clean, and would set about hanging it up on a line to dry. Propping the window open to let in the cool evening breeze, he'd watch the hammock with an expression of concern. With the tasks seemingly completed for the patient, Finn drew a chair up next to Swift's bunk, and sat next to him to keep him company. He turned the chair around backwards, folded his arms across the back, and rested his chin there.

"Y'allright?" he asked in a low voice, keeping his conversation just between them. "I mean. You know! You... y'look sad."

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Swifttail's ears perked as the surgeon once again guided Finn along at his task, chiding him for putting Swift to rest without helping him out of his soiled garments. While he did absolutely prefer to be out of the smelly, sticky uniform, he did sympathize for the little scamp. He hadn't remembered to take them off either.

When Finn came over and shyly asked him to remove his outerwear, Swift did so diligently, giving Finn a weak smile to let him know he was doing a good job. It definitely was a thin mask to hide his intense underlying embarrassment, however. Not at the prospect of being in his skivvies, but at his inability to maintain his composure over a little rough seas.

After Finn had left with his soiled garments, before briefly returning with a blanket after another reminder from the surgeon, Swift closed his eyes and rested while the ginger did its work. He only opened them again when he heard a chair being pulled up beside his bunk. He looked over and saw the young todd looking at him with concern.

"Y'allright? I mean. You know! You... y'look sad."

He asked it in a subdued way, making it clear that the conversation was between them only. Swift rubbed his forehead and sighed. Responding in an equally quiet manner.

"Oh Finny, I messed it up bad... To be on a ship of such technological wonder, captained by the Minister of Innovation himself! A...and I can't e...even handle a couple of rough seas..." Swifttail choked back tears welling up in his eyes. "Oh what they must think of me. What HE must think of me!"

Swifttail slumped back further into his pillow.

"I ain't cut out for seafairin." He stated miserably.

 

[FinnianBrightfur]

Finn listened intently to the older fox, his tail swishing idly behind him. This was definitely outside of the job description... And yet, at the same time, part and parcel with his duties.

Now Finn hated crying in public more'n anyone else. But at least he got a pass, being a kit. The older adults, not so much. And watching one suffer like this was difficult to endure.

The foxkit looked off for a moment, and thought back to the patience and gentleness the captain extended to him, and resolved to try and do the same.

"Well, uh... I guess you'n I are the same..." he said, doing the best he could to scrounge together something comforting to say. That was the problem with being a kit. The complexities of your thoughts exceeded your vocabulary.

And finally, the brain cells bumped together. "Both of us are scared of barfing on the job."

Now Finn had meant to express solidarity, and made his remark with all due gravity. But the mental image suddenly seemed ridiculous to him, and he began to laugh uncontrollably.

"Finnian! You must amputate this patient's arm to save their life!" he said, mocking the surgeons voice (while he was still in the room right next door).

"Sir! Yes sir!" he hissed out between stifled giggles, before dramatically tipping his head back. "...blaaaarrrgghhhh!"

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Finn's child logic cut through Swifttail's turmoil like a freshly hewn blade through soft butter, and before he knew it, he was giggling and laughing alongside the fox kit. Imagine! Being sick on an ailing patient! At least out performing his duties on deck, he had the luxury of finding the closest edge and feeding the fishes! Suddenly, it all didn't seem so bad!

Swift was about to build on Finn's levity, joking about him losing his lunch to a puncture wound to the gut, only to feed the poor beast in the process, when a large, dark figure suddenly loomed over the young fox, which really accentuated his small stature. His laughs caught in his throat with an "Urk!" as he looked up to see the looming figure of the largest Pine Marten he had ever seen, and his face had somehow twisted to form an even larger scowl!

 

[FinnianBrightfur]

Finn was caught in uproarious laughter, which he could barely stifle. He giggled and spluttered, right until he felt a weighty paw grab him by the scruff and lift him up off the seat with a menacing grunt.

"Bilge pumps!" he ordered menacingly, melting the grin right off Finny's face. He tossed the kit towards the door, and gave him a kick in the seat of the pants to send him off.

Though, once Finn was out of earshot, a wry grin curled on his face. "Weren't a half bad impression..." But leaning closer, he leered at the fox in the hammock. "You tell 'im I said that and I'm turning you into a rug."

---

Subjective: Patient reported sea sickness.

Objective: Patient barfed vomited all over their shirt.

Assessment: Yep, it was barf vomit.

Plan: Fed patient Ginger Beer, gave Ginger root to keep for later. Gave pt a cool cloth for forehead, discharged after 3 hrs rest.

 

[Morgan Liu]

Morgan swore as she limped into the infirmary. She'd had to lean on the wall for support the whole way, keeping the weight off her right footpaw. Anytime she rested more than a few pounds of pressure on it, she felt such dizzying pain that she might collapse. "Oi, doc," she called, "y' in? Think I messed up m' footpaw somethin' bad."

 

[FinnianBrightfur]

Finn looked extra ridiculous this week -- and was walking around with patches of fur shaved off his arms. For deep enough lacerations, the fur made sutures impossible, and the surgeon wanted him to practice with a straight razor. So there Finny was, with large bare patches on his arms in various states of regrowth. (Because there was no way the surgeon would let him near a patient with a straight razor, yet.) Finn hadn't done too bad, all things considered. Only a few nicks here and there.

Hearing Morgan come 'round the corner, he perked up cheerily. "Morgan!" -- until he remembered... ...maybe seeing your friend coming to the infirmary wasn't the best thing. "Oh, uh... hey Morgan! What happened to your foot?" he asked, watching her limp in.

But then, his spidey senses started tingling. It just seemed like the surgeon was about to yell at him for something. Oh, oh yeah! He probably should go help Morgan, and not just... let her limp! The fox bolted up from his chair, and trotted quickly over to help Morgan take a seat on a nearby chair.

 

[Morgan Liu]

Morgan accepted Finn's help, wincing and hissing as she made her way over to the chair. "Bit of a stupid dare, really," She lamented. "Summa the crew were bettin' we could swing down from the riggin' on a rope an' land just fine on the deck. Looks like I lost."

 

[FinnianBrightfur]

Finn's tail swished agitatedly behind him as he looked down at the ferret's footpaw. It was pretty straightforward what he had to do for patients that barfed... But this had him stumped. In any case, he seemed mildly frustrated at Morgan's wrecklessnss. Distressed, even! Finny cast an anxious glance over his shoulder to Mr. Barrett's office, and called out for him.

"You've got to ask for more details, Finny... If you can't paint a picture of the scene in your mind, you haven't asked enough questions..." came the voice, somewhat less angry than previously. The pine martin lumbered out of the office, and prompted his young assistant with several questions. How high was the fall from, can she put any weight on it, how did it roll or twist, does anything else hurt -- the standard gamut. Given the colder waters available, it was even feasible for Finn to fetch a chilly bucket of seawater for her to rest her paws in.

"The question becomes..." said the pine martin, sitting down, and taking Morgan's footpaw into his lap. "...is there a break? Or is it just a sprain?" The stakes were becoming more and more obvious to the foxkit, and he looked genuinely worried. Broken bones, if they couldn't be set, could potentially require amputation. Finn put on a brave face, and tried to offer a reassuring smile to Morgan.

Mr. Barrett had strong, but gentle paws, and delicately manipulated Morgan's foot as he probed various regions. "Any pain here?" he asked, watching Morgan carefully for a grimace.

 

[Morgan Liu]

Morgan hissed as he wound up pulling her footpaw a bit to the side, adjusting the angle. "Ow! Nah, it doesn't hurt much when you poke it like that, but the moment you try to move it, it becomes something awful."

 

[FinnianBrightfur]

The good doctor furrowed his brow as he carefully and expertly manipulated the limb. No, this wasn't broken, just a nasty sprain.

He turned to the young fox for a teaching moment, but found Finn pale as a sheet, and holding his breath in anticipation. Ah. The little one cared for the ferret.

Turning back to Morgan, he looked her straight in the eyes, and flashed a wicked grin. It was time to avenge himself for the injurious mockery he suffered, and put the foxkit in his place. And with any luck, Morgan would catch on with the game.

"Oh no... This is quite serious. I'm afraid you've broken your posterior pay-us back-us on-us Finny-as..." he said, giving an egregiously apologetic look to the ferret.

Finny went even more pale at this news, his eyes wide as saucers. "Y-you c'n fix it, right?"

 

[Morgan Liu]

Morgan's eyes widened. She didn't know medical terms that much, but she knew that a broken anything meant a long and painful recovery. "'Gates, doc," she swore, "this isn't gonna get me discharged, is it? I just joined the navy! I can't be kicked out now, not for something as stupid as this!"

 

[FinnianBrightfur]

The good doctor frowned at Morgan, and pouted for a moment. She hadn't caught on to his joke? Oh, and it was so clever. Such a tragedy when good wit is wasted.

The surgeon didn't have the heart to go through with his joke now. Tricking a mischievous foxkit was one thing, but tricking a wounded patient who was putting trust in him was another. And he'd just lectured Finny about that...

"No, it's not broken..." he said with a sigh. "But that feeling you have right now? Hold on to it. Because if you keep up at foolish stunts like this, you'll be answering to Finnian here. Finny, some bandages, and a splint if you will..."

The surgeon sat Finn down, and guided him through the simple wrapping procedure. "See how the ankle bends? You must wrap the bandages across the foot, and then around the ankle to keep it secure..."

Finn worked diligently to wrap her ankle -- and beamed up at Morgan when he'd secured the final wrap.

 

[Morgan Liu]

Morgan sighed in clear relief as the joke was made apparent. "Thanks, Doc," she commented, before adding a bit impishly, "though I think your bedside manner needs some work there." She held still as she was bandaged up, then carefully tested it. She still winced, but it wasn't nearly so bad. "How long should I keep off it for?" she inquired, looking between Finn and the doctor.