2237-09-18 - Too Far Gone

After the attack on Cap City, the work is far from over for the medical staff. Some are putting in more hours than others... to the detriment of their own health.

Date: 2237-09-18

Location: Agyros Infirmary Lounge

Related Scenes: None

Plot: None

Scene Number: 1414

Jump to End

Since the assault on Caprica City, most of the medical staff -- if no all -- has been working doubles. Or a least very long hours. Sarita was in surgery until her hands began to shake. Then she was on rounds. She's been pulled off of those, too, because a nurse noticed she could no longer read the notations in patient files. The doctor has made it as far as the lounge, at this point. She looks, like many others, not all there. Her lab coat has a few strains on it. Many unmentionable from patients, but at least one from coffee. Her hair is barely contained in a bun, loose strands falling by her face.

She stands now, before a coffee pot, thermos in one hand and the other half-extended towards the pot itself, simply staring at it. The Canceronian is frozen as if in tableau and if one didn't know any better... they might think she's fallen asleep on her feet. Perhaps she has.

Aidan steps into the lounge, taking a quick breather from his own gauntlet. Sarita is eyed thoughtfully, when he realizes she appears to have fallen asleep. The other Doctor's steps become softer. For the moment, at least, he's going to try not to wake her. Probably while he decides what to do.

Maybe she's not wholly asleep. As one nears, it can be heard that the woman is mumbling. She's going through the surgeries she did today. As if she were talking into a recorder and taking notes, except... there's no recorder present. It's not abnormal for a surgeon to do such at the end of their shift, no, but Sarita has forgotten that very vital component... the recorder. One pocket of her labcoat sits heavy enough to be holding one, yes, but she must have only thought she took it out. Nor could she ever be speaking loud enough for it to catch her words even if she had.

Eventually, Aidan apparently decides he's not going to do anything. Instead, he's going to pour himself some coffee and remark sarcasticly "If you keep doing such an outstanding impression of a coatstand, I'm going to hang my white coat on you."

That brings her back: "No, I'm fine. We're short-handed, I don't need to-" But it's Aidan, not any member of the senior staff telling her to return to her BOQ housing and get some sleep. Sarita blinks a few times, eyes watery. She waits until the other doctor is done with the carafe before taking it to pour some for herself. She has to bite into her lower lip, but she keeps her hands steady enough. "Doctor Kinsinger. I didn't see you there."

"Of course you didn't." Aidan agrees as he sips his coffee. "I could have been an entire battallion of cylons and you wouldn't have seen me there." Pause. "Which means you wouldn't have seen an artery before knicking it. Go home before you kill someone." Blunt and imperious. Her lucky day.

"I've been out of surgery since-" Sarita looks to the clock on the wall, but either can't parse the numbers or recall how long it's actually been. "...for a while," she finishes, blinking a few times. "Finishes rounds. They sent me home, but... I figure some rest and I can get back to it, yes?"

Aidan shakes his head at that. "No." He pauses for just long enough that it seems like that might be his whole response. Then he continues. "Sometimes, but clearly not in your case. You can't even string a sentence together in a coherent fashion."

In this case, Sarita has already used her 'rest a minute' opportunity to keep going. Her second wind is gone. The woman sets the thermos down and braces a hand on the counter. She lets out a slow breath. Just standing still is allowing the weariness to catch up to her. "Frakkin' cylons," she mutters. "Bombing the city like that." She blinks a few times, rapidly at first, but then more slowly. "Just don't want the place to be short-handed."

"Yes. I am incredulous that our enemies are still trying to kill us." Aidan 'agrees' with Sarita, before frowning again. "Well, having to fix your mistakes and keep you awake and upright would leave us negative-handed. Your team spirit is commendable but you've clearly done all you can and then some."

There's a slow intake of breath and Sarita closes her eyes. Her other hand comes to rest on the counter and she leans heavily on both arms. A quiver starts its way at her elbows and ends at her shoulders, leaving both shoulder blades briefly visible through her lab coat. "I might need to sleep here," she admits quietly in that Virgan-touched accent of hers. "I'm... not sure I could find my way back to BOQ."

"Well, then I suggest you do that." Aidan seems entirely unperturbed at the thought. "You'd hardly be the first or the last person to sleep in the break lounge. There's couches here for a reason. It's certainly not that we get time to sit down."

"Sit?" Sarita scoffs faintly as she steps away from the counter, abandoning her thermos for now. Chances are, she's forgotten it's even there. "Sure we do. On those little stools during a post-op or exam." There's a distant, dreamy sort of smile as she says it. The woman starts her way towards one of the sofas, struggling a bit with her coat as she goes. Like she's forgotten somewhat how sleeves work.

"Uh huh." Aidan seems to believe this is more sleepy rambling, especially given the expression on her face. "I wouldn't even bother, unless you plan on turning it into a blanket. Just lay down. You'll probably go to sleep instantly."

"Always feel like I'm gonna... get tangled up in it," Sarita mumbles, but she gives up once she has just one sleeve off. The woman crumples onto the nearest sofa, landing on one hip and lilting over sideways. Her face lands onto the cushion and her eyes close. She's not immediately asleep, no, but she'll be there fairly soon.

Aidan finishes his coffee. Once he's satisfied that Sarita is not going to wander off and attempt to help, he puts the empty mug down and returns to work without a backward glance.


Back to Scenes