Mission said:
It was a late night last night. She was up until three in the morning although her shift was supposed to end at five in the afternoon. The girl that was supposed to come in her after was a no show and the little girl she was training today was buzzing off somewhere refilling someone's water pitcher but sadly mistook a urinal for a pitcher. There were worse things to deal with, like the Necrotizing Fasciitis on 687 or the now potentially strangulated hernia on 150. She would need to scrub for surgery... again. She did her usual rounds in a hurry, the usual complaints: my bed has roaches; I think my IV site is infected; why haven't I gotten my spongebath; you aren't really going to be my doctor are you; I think my tent-mate is dead. Same old complaints. It was a terrible shame that everyone was keeling over in a less than graceful manner. There was only one of her and there was a few hundred of them. She was sure that all of the other medics were also doing all that they could although she sometimes wondered. She was not the most social woman in Sunagakure so she did not know for sure but she suspected.
Rounds were done in about 2 hours, some dressings were redone and bunch of oral temperatures taken with the wrong thermometer. For the most part they were going to live for today at least. Everyone but the strangulated hernia that is. The bowel death had turned to sepsis and she was too late to notice. 150 was crashing, her blood pressure range was wild, there was a fever and a rapid heartbeat but the problem was the multisystem organ failure. She tried... there was medicine, jutsus and fluids, but it was too late by the time rounds reached 150.
150 died today. Sad thing was, she did not even know who 150 was, it was simple 150 the strangulated hernia that went septic and went into septic shock. Not Kawamarui Temaru, father of two and loyal ANBU for ten years. He completed 40 missions, saved over 200 lives. He enjoyed gardening and archery and he was a great cook. She never thought about who he was or what he meant to others. It was a problem in medicine, people are dehumanized, given numbers and gowns, stripped of their identities and reduced to diagnoses being their traits.
150 died and perhaps something snapped in her yet again, much like it did when she thought of her cousin and his potential death in the hopefully distant future. She would save her cousin, but she could care less that she could not save him. Sure it damaged her stats but it did not change the fact that he was dead and that was her primary concern. She had turned into a monster and that was never her intent, she was just doing what she had to each and every day like anyone else. Thinking about who these people are... who has time for that? They were just a bunch of people who should have taken better care of themselves, been more careful, or in some way earned their ailment. It goes against the concept of biomedicine but isn't that how everything thinks of that cancer patient who must have smoked or that loose person who contracted a stigmatic ailment. She would do better... be better. She would help these people serve indefinitely.
She continued on with her rounds, moving with a brisk pace and a purpose. nobody else died that day under her watch, a record for her since the collapse.
WC: 608