Never posted this incredibly silly procedural drama TV poster pastiche I did for my D&D game! For some reason the city guard have decided to take these chucklefucks on as consultants, and they have already caused multiple Yackety Sax Occurrences.
From left to right: Gummi (cleric, does not know what bones are and is too afraid to ask), Thrumm Deepglow (circle of spores druid, solves most problems with wolves), Conch (fighter, just broke up with his long-distance bird boyfriend), Dorothée (eldritch knight fighter/sorcerer, no one knows she's an exiled princess), Shenzi (baby rogue, possessed by the spirit of a dragon and on the run from a chaos god about it), Ash (monk, big shounen protagonist energy), Scam (rogue, together with Ash just ran an absolutely ludicrous con on Fantasy Joe Exotic), Eris (college of spirits bard, tracked the rest of us down to help her solve a mystery and got Involved in our Shit)
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PHI (Protected Health Information)
No. 13 CAN’T MAKE AN OMELETTE WITHOUT BREAKING A FEW LEGS
Fracture | Dislocation | “Are you here to break me out?”
TW: implied child abuse, semi graphic description of a broken bone, bad caretaker, medical whump
Taglist: @teamwhump @pepperonyscience
There were many things to enjoy about family medicine, and many more perks that came from working exclusively with obscenely rich families. All in all, it was a fulfilling and lucrative career.
As Dr. Pinkerton examined the x-ray of her current patient’s arm, she sighed because today (tonight) was simply not her day (or night).
Behind her, her patient shifted uncomfortably, the motion accompanied by the sound of the sanitary paper crumpling and tearing.
“Sorry, remind me,” Dr. Pinkerton said, “how’d he manage to do this to himself?”
The father chuckled slightly. “He fell off his bike,” he explained.
Her gaze flicked to the timestamp on the x-ray. Radiology had performed them at 11:52. “So late at night?”
“Oh no, he just did his best to hide it, but he did it in the morning. He thought that he could just wrap it with a towel and be fine.”
“It must have been quite tender.” An understatement. Every person in the room was keenly aware of that. “Why didn’t you get help sooner?”
His gaze bore into her and she held off turning around for another minute by moving the focus of the x-ray again. The fracture in the radius curved along the bone, a classic spiral bifurcating the bone. A few inches closer to the wrist, the distal head of the radius bulged with bone callus. Another bulge on the proximal end of the ulna. She switched views once more, focusing again on the dark curl running through the bone instead of anything else.
“That’s my son for you,” the father boasted. “He’d do just about anything to avoid going to a hospital.”
She finally turned around, arms crossed.
The father had a steadying hand on his son's shoulder, squeezing periodically to comfort him and to stave off pained tears. The son had his shoulders curled forward, if only slightly, and the muscle in his jaw bounced at each touch, but he kept his eyes locked on his x-ray. She still felt his gaze crawling on her.
“Well, do anything but act a fool,” the father added with another laugh. The son offered a tight smile on cue.
The silence dragged slightly. The son’s smile disappeared, and he turned his eyes to the side, exhaustion weighing his lids down.
“You need to be more careful on your bike,” Dr. Pinkerton said at last. “You’re very lucky it wasn’t another compound break.”
The boy said stiffly, “Yes ma’am.” He still didn’t look at her. The father kept his hand on his shoulder for another second then ruffled his hair with enough force to turn his head and bend his neck.
Uncrossing her arms, Dr. Pinkerton sighed. “We’ll have to surgically stabilize the bone or else risk malunion.”
Her gaze dropped back to the boy and the ginger way he held his left arm to himself. Bone tented in the flesh. It was bruised and angry red in some places.
“So that means it could heal wrong without it, I assume?” At her nod, he continued, “How long will the surgery take? A day? A few hours?”
“It’s good that it wasn’t his leg that broke, so he can be in and out in a day, yes.”
“And general anesthesia. Is that necessary for a procedure like this? He never reacts well to sedatives.”
“It would be recommended,” Dr. Pinkerton said carefully. “Though I trust you as his guardian will weigh the side effects of the medication against pain management. Many people prefer a local anesthetic in cases where general anesthesia is not tolerable.”
Without hesitation, the father just said, “Let’s go with that then.”
The son remained silent.
“After surgery, NSAIDs are not recommended as they can inhibit healing. I’ll send a script over for acetaminophen with codeine. Same pharmacy?”
“As always. Thank you doc. You’ve been quite helpful. My son is a regular clutz. You’re worth your weight in gold.”
The father’s smile had her returning one of her own, an instinctual reaction from some long dormant animal behavior, and she turned to type the orders into her patient’s chart.
Her gaze skimmed through the medical history, scrolling past it too quickly to read, and she finalized the orders.
“Let’s get you all ready for surgery,” Dr. Pinkerton announced, and this time, the father didn’t answer for his son.
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