When Claire awoke this time, she had to blink a couple of times before believing her eyes. Where had all these people come from? Two nurses and a doctor by the look of them: the doctor and one male nurse talking by the machine, and the other nurse (female) taking various readings from the machines, all looking scarily efficient. She gulped, blinking away sudden tears - shouldn't they be looking after whoever the hell it was they'd shot?!
"Wha-" she coughed weakly, her mouth dry.
The nurse by the machine's looked up sharply, quickly placing her clipboard on the end of the bed before rushing over to the jug of water. Her expression was all business, but there was an undercurrent of urgency in her eyes as she encouraged Claire to take small sips. After everything else that had happened here, that probably freaked Claire out more than the sudden attention.
By the time Claire was settled back against her pillows, Dr Anonymous was glaring at her sternly from the end of the bed. Cowering despite her best intentions, Claire bit her lip and waited for whatever it was he was about to share. For all she knew he wanted to shoot her too.
"You should learn to control your reactions, Miss Littleton," the man stated, finally. "Sedation at this stage of pregnany should only be used as a last resort, and yet you have forced us to take action several times in one day. If you're not careful -"
Her reaction was immediate and indignant. "Hey! You bastards kidna-"
One of the machines - the foetal monitor, she thought - began to beep rapidly, causing one nurse to roll over an ultrasound kit while the other rolled down the bedsheets to expose Claire's abdomen. Worried about what this might mean, Claire's own pulse rose to the point that the sound of the foetal monitor was joined by her own. Oh shit. She desperately tried to remember those irritating ante-natal classes she'd been assigned (skipped, more than not) and did a bunch of breathing exercises in an attempt to calm down.
Dr Bastard approached, smiling tightly as he pulled an oxygen mask into view and over her mouth and nose. "That's the spirit. No drugs, just good old meditation. Anything else could be.. well.. I don't believe that 'fatal' is too strong a phrase."
She stared into his eyes as she breathed in and out, too terrified to do anything else until he placed a hand on her head and turned her gaze towards the ultrasound.
"See that, Miss Littleton? That is your child. We do not wish to harm either of your, however circumstances have not been kind." He tut-tutted at Claire's whimper of protest, patting her head patronisingly before moving back to the foot of the bed. "I do not need you to like me, Miss Littleton, merely to listen. Your attitude towards this pregnancy has never been wholehearted, something that has not changed despite an intensely traumatic plane crash. Not only that, but your diet over the last two weeks has been poor at best, your medical supervision primitive, your emotional state precarious.. To be frank both you and the child are lucky to be as healthy as you are, although I do use the word 'healthy' loosely."
"Wha-" Claire swallowed when his eyes flicked back to hers, as disapproving as ever. She desperately wanted to hug her middle, reassure the baby the only way she knew how, but all this medical equipment prevented it. "What do you mean? Am.. are.. we're not dying or anything, right?"
He cant his head as if trying to decide. "Not presently, no. However I must inform you that we have detected signs of foetal distress, which does not bode well."
"Like what?"
"When was the last time you felt the foetus move?"
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timeasmymeasure
[Claire] Laying blame (1)
Date: 2006-07-11 12:23 am (UTC)"Wha-" she coughed weakly, her mouth dry.
The nurse by the machine's looked up sharply, quickly placing her clipboard on the end of the bed before rushing over to the jug of water. Her expression was all business, but there was an undercurrent of urgency in her eyes as she encouraged Claire to take small sips. After everything else that had happened here, that probably freaked Claire out more than the sudden attention.
By the time Claire was settled back against her pillows, Dr Anonymous was glaring at her sternly from the end of the bed. Cowering despite her best intentions, Claire bit her lip and waited for whatever it was he was about to share. For all she knew he wanted to shoot her too.
"You should learn to control your reactions, Miss Littleton," the man stated, finally. "Sedation at this stage of pregnany should only be used as a last resort, and yet you have forced us to take action several times in one day. If you're not careful -"
Her reaction was immediate and indignant. "Hey! You bastards kidna-"
One of the machines - the foetal monitor, she thought - began to beep rapidly, causing one nurse to roll over an ultrasound kit while the other rolled down the bedsheets to expose Claire's abdomen. Worried about what this might mean, Claire's own pulse rose to the point that the sound of the foetal monitor was joined by her own. Oh shit. She desperately tried to remember those irritating ante-natal classes she'd been assigned (skipped, more than not) and did a bunch of breathing exercises in an attempt to calm down.
Dr Bastard approached, smiling tightly as he pulled an oxygen mask into view and over her mouth and nose. "That's the spirit. No drugs, just good old meditation. Anything else could be.. well.. I don't believe that 'fatal' is too strong a phrase."
She stared into his eyes as she breathed in and out, too terrified to do anything else until he placed a hand on her head and turned her gaze towards the ultrasound.
"See that, Miss Littleton? That is your child. We do not wish to harm either of your, however circumstances have not been kind." He tut-tutted at Claire's whimper of protest, patting her head patronisingly before moving back to the foot of the bed. "I do not need you to like me, Miss Littleton, merely to listen. Your attitude towards this pregnancy has never been wholehearted, something that has not changed despite an intensely traumatic plane crash. Not only that, but your diet over the last two weeks has been poor at best, your medical supervision primitive, your emotional state precarious.. To be frank both you and the child are lucky to be as healthy as you are, although I do use the word 'healthy' loosely."
"Wha-" Claire swallowed when his eyes flicked back to hers, as disapproving as ever. She desperately wanted to hug her middle, reassure the baby the only way she knew how, but all this medical equipment prevented it. "What do you mean? Am.. are.. we're not dying or anything, right?"
He cant his head as if trying to decide. "Not presently, no. However I must inform you that we have detected signs of foetal distress, which does not bode well."
"Like what?"
"When was the last time you felt the foetus move?"