Cura Te Ipsum
Jul. 10th, 2011 04:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stringertheoryTitle: Cura Te Ipsum
Rating: PG
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Characters: Samantha Carter, Janet Fraiser
Word Count: 1403
Categories: friendship, drama, humor
Spoilers/Warnings: Late S1/Early S2. No spoilers.
Summary: Written for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
sg1friendathon: "Sam, Janet. Sam asks Janet for training in medical procedures."
The sound of movement out in the infirmary pulled Janet from her reports.
She rubbed at her aching eyes and glanced at the clock, biting back an oath at the hour. It was nearly one in the morning, and Janet had been up to her chin in paperwork since before seven, working to finish the week's neglected administrative duties. She frowned at the shuffling coming from the other room. Other than herself and a nurse, the infirmary was unusually empty that night. Their one patient had been released earlier that evening and Nurse Jacobs had left for the commissary not ten minutes ago, so there shouldn't have been anyone else around.
As the noise continued—the sound of jars being pushed around on shelves, Janet thought—she rose from her chair. Kneading at a twinge in her lower back, she trudged from the office into the infirmary proper. She pulled up short at the sight that greeted her.
Samantha Carter, not long released from the doctor's care herself, was inspecting the insides of the infirmary cabinets as if memorizing their contents. As Janet watched, Sam picked up a vial, read its label, then carefully replaced it on the shelf. She had a small frown on her face, similar to the one Janet had seen her wear when grappling with a project that wasn't cooperating. Eyeing the brace on Sam's left wrist and wondering at the situation, Janet headed toward her.
“Sam?”
At her call, Sam started slightly and turned toward her.
“Are you okay?” Janet asked as she drew near. “Do you need something? Pain reliever, anything...?”
“No,” Sam said quickly, shaking her head. “No, I'm fine. I just—” She cut herself off and partially turned away, running her fingers along the edge of one of the cabinet shelves.
“Just what?” Janet asked gently, trying to suss out the reason for Sam's odd behavior.
Seemingly steeling her resolve, Sam took a deep breath and met Janet's eyes again. Whatever was on her mind, it was clearly important. Janet couldn't remember ever seeing her so solemn before. Her expression was that of determination—jaw set, chin stuck out, gaze steady.
“Will you teach me?” she asked.
“Teach you?” Janet responded, bemused.
Sam nodded. “Medical procedures. I know basic field first aid, but... I think I should know more.”
She subconsciously toyed with the straps of her brace, and Janet better understood her reasons for requesting tutelage.
SG-1 had had a particularly rough encounter with a Jaffa patrol just a few days before and had only managed to escape by the skin of their teeth. From what Janet had been told of the events, they had been very lucky, none more so than Colonel O'Neill. The relatively minor wound he had received would almost certainly have been fatal had it been just a few centimeters to the right. Thankfully, instead of bleeding to death before the team could make it back through the gate, he would merely have to deal with some soreness and a couple of weeks in therapy. He had given Janet a moment of chilling horror, though, until the wound was cleaned and she could see the damage was less severe than it appeared.
And the rest of SG-1 had been about the same. Sam and Daniel had both been deathly pale as they followed the colonel's gurney into the infirmary, and a flicker of concern could even be discerned in Teal'c's typically stoic expression. While nurses saw to their injuries, the team had grouped together around the cot closest to where Janet was treating the colonel. When Janet had informed them that his wound was mostly superficial, they had released a collective breath of relief.
Apparently, the event had left a lasting impression.
“What would you like to know?” Janet asked with a small smile.
Sam shrugged. “Advanced first aid, triage, and hazmat protocol and procedure, basic medical care for if and when we find ourselves injured and away from help,” she cringed almost imperceptibly, “field surgery --”
Janet held up her hands. “Whoa, Sam. Let's not get ahead of ourselves, okay?” She eyed Sam knowingly. “This last mission really got to you, huh?” she asked quietly.
Sam nodded and lowered herself onto a cot with a sigh.
“We were surrounded,” she said. “I don't know if it was an ambush or just lucky timing on the part of the Jaffa and really bad timing on our part, but they came up on us before we even realized they were there.” She motioned to her injured arm. “Most of our injuries were from the scramble over a low ridge to some cover, and we were able to take out a good portion of the patrol pretty quickly. At that point we knew we'd get out, though it would be a fight. Then the colonel went down.” Her eyes grew distant. “There was so much blood.”
Janet put a hand on her shoulder in sympathy. Sam didn't seem to notice.
“For a second, I just stared at him. I already had his field dressing in one hand but once I really looked at the damage...” She shook her head slightly in disgust. “All the training I'd had, all the experience in the field, and I froze. I think some part of me was so sure he was a dead man that it didn't see the point in trying to save him. 'Fat lot of a good a field dressing will do, Carter,'” she said in a bitter imitation of her own voice.
“But you got past it and did what you were taught to do,” Janet said reassuringly, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “Stemming the blood loss kept it from being worse than it was.”
“That's just it, Janet, what if it had been as bad as I expected?” she asked, a hint of desperation in her tone. “We never would have made it back here in time. Colonel O'Neill would have died on that planet, and all we could have done was watch.”
“So you want another set of weapons,” Janet said knowingly.
Sam gave her a half smile. “We seem to keep running into things that require them,” she pointed out.
Janet chuckled at that. “SG-1 does seem to find more opportunities for injuries than anyone else,” she agreed, “but I suppose that comes from being a first contact team.”
“I think 'wounded in the field' is going to be a trend with us,” Sam admitted. She turned to Janet, expression desperate and determined. “I just want to be able to keep us all alive until we can get home.”
Janet appraised her for a moment, eyes narrowed. “Given your history, it probably wouldn't be a bad idea for at least one of you to know some more advanced field techniques.” She frowned. “All of you, really, but we'll start with you.”
Sam smiled, seemingly relieved. “What do I need to do?”
Janet contemplated the question. The best method for learning was hands-on experience, but you couldn't exactly schedule injuries. Actually, you could, but finding volunteers was difficult. Thankfully, a less complicated solution was near at hand.
“You have tomorrow off, right?”
Sam nodded. “We aren't scheduled to go off-world again until next Thursday. I was planning to get some research done, though.”
“And you will,” Janet assured her. “Be here at 1500 tomorrow.”
“What's happening at 1500?” Sam asked curiously.
“SG-2 is scheduled to return at 1530,” Janet advised. “I'm sure we'll have something to work with then.”
Sam smiled. “That routine, huh?”
“They're almost as bad as you guys,” Janet said. “Plus, the planet they're visiting already defeated SG-5, so I'm expecting at least one injured party, if not more.” She motioned for Sam to get up and began shooing her toward the door. “Until then, madam, I expect you to go home and get some sleep.”
“Yes, ma'am,” Sam said, a laugh in her voice.
Janet left her at the infirmary door and started back to her office. Sam's voice stopped her.
“Janet?”
“Hmm?”
“Thanks.”
Janet tossed her a smile. “You're welcome.”
Rating: PG
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Characters: Samantha Carter, Janet Fraiser
Word Count: 1403
Categories: friendship, drama, humor
Spoilers/Warnings: Late S1/Early S2. No spoilers.
Summary: Written for the
sg1friendathon: "Sam, Janet. Sam asks Janet for training in medical procedures."The sound of movement out in the infirmary pulled Janet from her reports.
She rubbed at her aching eyes and glanced at the clock, biting back an oath at the hour. It was nearly one in the morning, and Janet had been up to her chin in paperwork since before seven, working to finish the week's neglected administrative duties. She frowned at the shuffling coming from the other room. Other than herself and a nurse, the infirmary was unusually empty that night. Their one patient had been released earlier that evening and Nurse Jacobs had left for the commissary not ten minutes ago, so there shouldn't have been anyone else around.
As the noise continued—the sound of jars being pushed around on shelves, Janet thought—she rose from her chair. Kneading at a twinge in her lower back, she trudged from the office into the infirmary proper. She pulled up short at the sight that greeted her.
Samantha Carter, not long released from the doctor's care herself, was inspecting the insides of the infirmary cabinets as if memorizing their contents. As Janet watched, Sam picked up a vial, read its label, then carefully replaced it on the shelf. She had a small frown on her face, similar to the one Janet had seen her wear when grappling with a project that wasn't cooperating. Eyeing the brace on Sam's left wrist and wondering at the situation, Janet headed toward her.
“Sam?”
At her call, Sam started slightly and turned toward her.
“Are you okay?” Janet asked as she drew near. “Do you need something? Pain reliever, anything...?”
“No,” Sam said quickly, shaking her head. “No, I'm fine. I just—” She cut herself off and partially turned away, running her fingers along the edge of one of the cabinet shelves.
“Just what?” Janet asked gently, trying to suss out the reason for Sam's odd behavior.
Seemingly steeling her resolve, Sam took a deep breath and met Janet's eyes again. Whatever was on her mind, it was clearly important. Janet couldn't remember ever seeing her so solemn before. Her expression was that of determination—jaw set, chin stuck out, gaze steady.
“Will you teach me?” she asked.
“Teach you?” Janet responded, bemused.
Sam nodded. “Medical procedures. I know basic field first aid, but... I think I should know more.”
She subconsciously toyed with the straps of her brace, and Janet better understood her reasons for requesting tutelage.
SG-1 had had a particularly rough encounter with a Jaffa patrol just a few days before and had only managed to escape by the skin of their teeth. From what Janet had been told of the events, they had been very lucky, none more so than Colonel O'Neill. The relatively minor wound he had received would almost certainly have been fatal had it been just a few centimeters to the right. Thankfully, instead of bleeding to death before the team could make it back through the gate, he would merely have to deal with some soreness and a couple of weeks in therapy. He had given Janet a moment of chilling horror, though, until the wound was cleaned and she could see the damage was less severe than it appeared.
And the rest of SG-1 had been about the same. Sam and Daniel had both been deathly pale as they followed the colonel's gurney into the infirmary, and a flicker of concern could even be discerned in Teal'c's typically stoic expression. While nurses saw to their injuries, the team had grouped together around the cot closest to where Janet was treating the colonel. When Janet had informed them that his wound was mostly superficial, they had released a collective breath of relief.
Apparently, the event had left a lasting impression.
“What would you like to know?” Janet asked with a small smile.
Sam shrugged. “Advanced first aid, triage, and hazmat protocol and procedure, basic medical care for if and when we find ourselves injured and away from help,” she cringed almost imperceptibly, “field surgery --”
Janet held up her hands. “Whoa, Sam. Let's not get ahead of ourselves, okay?” She eyed Sam knowingly. “This last mission really got to you, huh?” she asked quietly.
Sam nodded and lowered herself onto a cot with a sigh.
“We were surrounded,” she said. “I don't know if it was an ambush or just lucky timing on the part of the Jaffa and really bad timing on our part, but they came up on us before we even realized they were there.” She motioned to her injured arm. “Most of our injuries were from the scramble over a low ridge to some cover, and we were able to take out a good portion of the patrol pretty quickly. At that point we knew we'd get out, though it would be a fight. Then the colonel went down.” Her eyes grew distant. “There was so much blood.”
Janet put a hand on her shoulder in sympathy. Sam didn't seem to notice.
“For a second, I just stared at him. I already had his field dressing in one hand but once I really looked at the damage...” She shook her head slightly in disgust. “All the training I'd had, all the experience in the field, and I froze. I think some part of me was so sure he was a dead man that it didn't see the point in trying to save him. 'Fat lot of a good a field dressing will do, Carter,'” she said in a bitter imitation of her own voice.
“But you got past it and did what you were taught to do,” Janet said reassuringly, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “Stemming the blood loss kept it from being worse than it was.”
“That's just it, Janet, what if it had been as bad as I expected?” she asked, a hint of desperation in her tone. “We never would have made it back here in time. Colonel O'Neill would have died on that planet, and all we could have done was watch.”
“So you want another set of weapons,” Janet said knowingly.
Sam gave her a half smile. “We seem to keep running into things that require them,” she pointed out.
Janet chuckled at that. “SG-1 does seem to find more opportunities for injuries than anyone else,” she agreed, “but I suppose that comes from being a first contact team.”
“I think 'wounded in the field' is going to be a trend with us,” Sam admitted. She turned to Janet, expression desperate and determined. “I just want to be able to keep us all alive until we can get home.”
Janet appraised her for a moment, eyes narrowed. “Given your history, it probably wouldn't be a bad idea for at least one of you to know some more advanced field techniques.” She frowned. “All of you, really, but we'll start with you.”
Sam smiled, seemingly relieved. “What do I need to do?”
Janet contemplated the question. The best method for learning was hands-on experience, but you couldn't exactly schedule injuries. Actually, you could, but finding volunteers was difficult. Thankfully, a less complicated solution was near at hand.
“You have tomorrow off, right?”
Sam nodded. “We aren't scheduled to go off-world again until next Thursday. I was planning to get some research done, though.”
“And you will,” Janet assured her. “Be here at 1500 tomorrow.”
“What's happening at 1500?” Sam asked curiously.
“SG-2 is scheduled to return at 1530,” Janet advised. “I'm sure we'll have something to work with then.”
Sam smiled. “That routine, huh?”
“They're almost as bad as you guys,” Janet said. “Plus, the planet they're visiting already defeated SG-5, so I'm expecting at least one injured party, if not more.” She motioned for Sam to get up and began shooing her toward the door. “Until then, madam, I expect you to go home and get some sleep.”
“Yes, ma'am,” Sam said, a laugh in her voice.
Janet left her at the infirmary door and started back to her office. Sam's voice stopped her.
“Janet?”
“Hmm?”
“Thanks.”
Janet tossed her a smile. “You're welcome.”