[ this is above his paygrade actually. knocks her out with the b*ble-- no. ]
Well, someone's getting fired today. Unless they get back in the theatre in the next few seconds that is.
[ ANAESTHESIOLOGIST.
he'll whip out some gauze to stem any bloodflow for the moment and make Signifiant Eyes at this Sheila who isn't Sheila and he definitely doesn't know.
Open - what the fuck, is this your murder attempt? Are you trying to kill me? Yuri!
[ probably predictably, sh eis incredibly distraught by this. sheila seems to be in agreement - she starts to sit up once they're staunching the bleeding, but the nurses who were murmuring to each other stop. they come scurrying back - two grab sheila's wrists and pull her down, and another one says, in a heated whisper. ]
Dr. Leclerc, the patient did this before. The last time we tried, she started hallucinating - her husband said it's a phobia. [ says one nurse. the other one shakes her head, holding sheila's wrist down. ] She consented to the operation and warned us it'd be like this.
[ sheila looks pissed, as she fights against being held down. someone is hurrying to the operating theater - yuri will recognize the anesthesiologist, moving as fast as he fucking can, though he's still down the hall. ]
I would say it's incredibly poor form and poor medicine to be aware of this and not adjust anything to lower the patient's risk of burning off the anaesthetic entirely.
[ he pinches his nose slightly. ]
Did you get written consent? Please tell me you got written consent for this, not just hearsay from the patient and her husband.
[ one of the nurses nods, and produces a paper, waving it in yuri's face. seeing as how sheila is struggling still, he doesn't get a ton of time to read it, but it does look like a form of written consent. ]
See?
[ sheila thrashes against the hold. ] Yuri - Yuri, this is fucked up, are you trying to - why the hell are you playing doctor?! I didn't sign that! This isn't even real!
[ the anesthesiologist comes running in, breathless, and bows his head. ] I am so sorry - so sorry, I'm here. Let's get her back under, doctor, I gave that intern a talking to. I'll take care of the rest.
[ you know this guy - the head of the department. he's got green hair, and he was probably asleep... you'll just have to dock his pay for it, considering. not unusual behavior, but also, how unprofessional. seriously.
the flurry of activity and chaos has the operating theater audience murmuring to each other, too. yuri, your reputation is on the line here. ]
[ help i've been sat here doing the math lady meme for ages
he'd said it himself, hadn't he? "there's a life at the end of your scalpel", "if you forget that, then why are you a surgeon in the first place? ]
The patient is clearly distressed, and I wonder why. [ that's not a legit question, that's sarcasm, tired green haired man. ] Consent form. Now.
And at least give her something for any pain and to calm her, for godsakes. I shouldn't have to be rechecking paperwork and basic medical protocols that should be done properly before surgery while in the operating theatre.
yuri is clear and concise and sharp with his scolding. the tired green haired man - dr. von hevring - waves him off, coming over with the anesthetic and giving a few orders. ]
Yes, Dr. Leclerc. [ say all the nurses.
sheila gasps as she's pushed down, and the anesthesia mask is pulled over her face. she says his name, over and over. Yuri! Yuri no! -
but then, the machines turn on.
the tension in the room feels like it's in slow motion, and yuri feels... calm, as sheila falls back asleep.
good. crisis averted. the audience in the operating theatre, utterly compelled by the drama, relaxes all at once in relief. it's just yuri and his surgical knife once more. ]
[ good that the peanut gallery is enjoy the show. yuri doesn't feel like he's having a good time. there's a consent form, signed and written and that should be all that's needed.
but it feels off. and wrong. hallucinations? so heavy and real they bypass anaesthesia?
he's never seen it before. there's a patient on the end of this -- a patient who doesn't want this surgery, knows his name and calls him in such a familiar way, but there's a chart, and health issue and a duty as a surgeon to help. to protect and heal. ]
Make sure she's fully under. I will not put her through the distress of waking up to a knife to the skin again, thank you very much.
[ sheila stares at yuri, and her expression is - terrified. terrified, and betrayed, her hands desperately clasping at the air. but, the anesthesia takes - she takes one last breath, sharp, high pitched, and then, her eyes roll back in her head, and she's unconscious.
the nurses all breathe a sigh of relief. they're impressed, by yuri's command of the room, by his presence.
yuri picks up the knife once he's sure he's out, and continues his work. as he presses the knife into the incision he originally started, and thinks eight inches, a clear line, his hand wavers.
what is he doing? does he know how to do this? has he ever done surgery?
what about the station?
what about eight weeks of memories, of eating cake and judging people who ate a different one entirely - about having a friend in your life with no expectations, no rules, someone who never judged you for who you were or the lies you told?
the knife sinks in. yuri's cut is unsteady. five, six inches. a little further - just straight down this line, right? to the left?
his hand sways, to the left - and the knife cuts in a little too deep. blood spurts out in an arterial burst, splatters across yuri's face and the heart monitor that was screaming fast, then calm, goes from easy, steady beeping to a high pitched shriek, and then -
weren't we just in the hotel?
- and then it flatlines.
sheila hammond is dead.
right on the operating table, by a fake surgeon. a liar. yuri's knees start to buckle - he'll feel dizzy, dizzy, and sick, and wrong, and he gets enough time to react as the nurses stare on (unhelping, just watching) - and perhaps that's all he gets. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
guestservices) wrote2022-07-03 06:13 pm
no subject
yuri does immediately stop and gives the anaesthetist a flat, and deeply unimpressed look. ]
Why in the hell is my patient gasping, and jerking on the gurney?
[ he will not be carving right now, hang in there sheila-not-sheila. ]
no subject
however, his patient grabs his wrist, her other hand flying up to her chest, and she gasps - ] Yuri, what the fuck!
no subject
Well, someone's getting fired today. Unless they get back in the theatre in the next few seconds that is.
[ ANAESTHESIOLOGIST.
he'll whip out some gauze to stem any bloodflow for the moment and make Signifiant Eyes at this Sheila who isn't Sheila and he definitely doesn't know.
what the fuck is right, ma'am. ]
no subject
What kind of -- what the hell are you doing, are you trying to play a game, or something?! Ow!
[ the nurses start murmuring to each other. so does the audience. ]
no subject
You're supposed to be unconscious, having open heart surgery. Although seeing as the anaesthesiologist has apparently gone missing...
[ he may need to stitch her up and see if they can't get the fuck out of this room? ]
no subject
[ probably predictably, sh eis incredibly distraught by this. sheila seems to be in agreement - she starts to sit up once they're staunching the bleeding, but the nurses who were murmuring to each other stop. they come scurrying back - two grab sheila's wrists and pull her down, and another one says, in a heated whisper. ]
Dr. Leclerc, the patient did this before. The last time we tried, she started hallucinating - her husband said it's a phobia. [ says one nurse. the other one shakes her head, holding sheila's wrist down. ] She consented to the operation and warned us it'd be like this.
[ sheila looks pissed, as she fights against being held down. someone is hurrying to the operating theater - yuri will recognize the anesthesiologist, moving as fast as he fucking can, though he's still down the hall. ]
no subject
...
I would say it's incredibly poor form and poor medicine to be aware of this and not adjust anything to lower the patient's risk of burning off the anaesthetic entirely.
[ he pinches his nose slightly. ]
Did you get written consent? Please tell me you got written consent for this, not just hearsay from the patient and her husband.
no subject
See?
[ sheila thrashes against the hold. ] Yuri - Yuri, this is fucked up, are you trying to - why the hell are you playing doctor?! I didn't sign that! This isn't even real!
[ the anesthesiologist comes running in, breathless, and bows his head. ] I am so sorry - so sorry, I'm here. Let's get her back under, doctor, I gave that intern a talking to. I'll take care of the rest.
[ you know this guy - the head of the department. he's got green hair, and he was probably asleep... you'll just have to dock his pay for it, considering. not unusual behavior, but also, how unprofessional. seriously.
the flurry of activity and chaos has the operating theater audience murmuring to each other, too. yuri, your reputation is on the line here. ]
no subject
he'd said it himself, hadn't he? "there's a life at the end of your scalpel", "if you forget that, then why are you a surgeon in the first place? ]
The patient is clearly distressed, and I wonder why. [ that's not a legit question, that's sarcasm, tired green haired man. ] Consent form. Now.
And at least give her something for any pain and to calm her, for godsakes. I shouldn't have to be rechecking paperwork and basic medical protocols that should be done properly before surgery while in the operating theatre.
no subject
anyway.
yuri is clear and concise and sharp with his scolding. the tired green haired man - dr. von hevring - waves him off, coming over with the anesthetic and giving a few orders. ]
Yes, Dr. Leclerc. [ say all the nurses.
sheila gasps as she's pushed down, and the anesthesia mask is pulled over her face. she says his name, over and over. Yuri! Yuri no! -
but then, the machines turn on.
the tension in the room feels like it's in slow motion, and yuri feels... calm, as sheila falls back asleep.
good. crisis averted. the audience in the operating theatre, utterly compelled by the drama, relaxes all at once in relief. it's just yuri and his surgical knife once more. ]
no subject
but it feels off. and wrong. hallucinations? so heavy and real they bypass anaesthesia?
he's never seen it before. there's a patient on the end of this -- a patient who doesn't want this surgery, knows his name and calls him in such a familiar way, but there's a chart, and health issue and a duty as a surgeon to help. to protect and heal. ]
Make sure she's fully under. I will not put her through the distress of waking up to a knife to the skin again, thank you very much.
no subject
the nurses all breathe a sigh of relief. they're impressed, by yuri's command of the room, by his presence.
yuri picks up the knife once he's sure he's out, and continues his work. as he presses the knife into the incision he originally started, and thinks eight inches, a clear line, his hand wavers.
what is he doing? does he know how to do this? has he ever done surgery?
what about the station?
what about eight weeks of memories, of eating cake and judging people who ate a different one entirely - about having a friend in your life with no expectations, no rules, someone who never judged you for who you were or the lies you told?
the knife sinks in. yuri's cut is unsteady. five, six inches. a little further - just straight down this line, right? to the left?
his hand sways, to the left - and the knife cuts in a little too deep. blood spurts out in an arterial burst, splatters across yuri's face and the heart monitor that was screaming fast, then calm, goes from easy, steady beeping to a high pitched shriek, and then -
weren't we just in the hotel?
- and then it flatlines.
sheila hammond is dead.
right on the operating table, by a fake surgeon. a liar. yuri's knees start to buckle - he'll feel dizzy, dizzy, and sick, and wrong, and he gets enough time to react as the nurses stare on (unhelping, just watching) - and perhaps that's all he gets. ]