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All's Fair In Love and War, Part 14/?

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  • Luvofcourfeyrac@aol.com
    A little excitement finally reached the little hospital where Marie was still stationed. For almost a month they had had nothing but minor patients heading in
    Message 1 of 1 , Dec 27, 2000
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      A little excitement finally reached the little hospital where
      Marie was still stationed. For almost a month they had had nothing
      but minor patients heading in and out of the place. Now, they were
      informed that in a matter of moments, truckloads of men coming from
      an earlier attack would arrive. The surge that followed the news was
      excitement, anxiousness, and apprehension all at once.Marie promised
      herself she wouldn't get more involved than she needed to. Say a
      kind
      word, smile a little, and move on. No names, no questions, no nothing.
      The promise was broken sooner than she'd expected. After
      they'd
      finally settled everyone into suitable beds, she began to make her
      rounds. A young man, no more than nineteen was alone, head tossing
      and turning, just coming back from unconsiousness. She took up a
      basin of water and a cloth and sat beside the bed. After a short
      scan, she realized it was his leg that was injured, and quickly set
      to cutting his pant leg to look at it.
      It was a mess. Blood covered it in a thick layer of red that made
      Marie turn away momentarily. The sight was all too familiar to her,
      and despite the fact that her career involved seeing such things, it
      made her stomach turn. Upon turning back, she found that there were
      other problems besides the initial bullet wound she had discovered.
      The most distinct problem was the smell...a putrid, almost gaseous
      smell that did nothing to ease the already growing discomfort in her
      stomach.
      After cleaning the blood from his leg she began to check for other
      symptoms. An idea formed in the back of her mind, but it was one she
      did not wish to pay attention to. Not at the present time anyway.
      Peeling off a glove, she closed her eyes to get her mind in order
      enough to concentrate on what she was doing. After she was
      comfortable, she touched his bare leg, and was startled by the cold
      she felt in it. A sharp gasp from her patient made her remove her
      hand and look up. Forcing a fake smile, she moved forward in her
      chair to look at him. "Hey there. Welcome back."
      "Back...?"
      "How you feelin'?"
      "Hot..." It was not the answer she wanted to hear, but
      somehow,
      she expected it. All other signs pointed to her worst fears.
      "Ah reckon you would be. Ah'm gonna put this cloth on your
      forehead...it'll help with tha fever." After doing so, she
      quickly
      comforted him as best she could, promising to return as soon as she
      could. Convinced he would be all right for the moment, she went to
      seek out a doctor.

      "Dr.McCoy, may Ah speak with you a moment?"
      "Of course." She knew he saw the startled, unhappy look on
      her
      features, because his lips quickly turned into a frown and his
      eyebrows curved downward. "What's the matter?"
      "There's a young man, just come in from tha last attack.
      Bullet
      wound."
      "Just below the knee. Yes, I saw him earlier. What of him?"
      "There's a pungent smell accompanying the wound...his leg
      is ice
      cold...and he's suffering from a high fever." Marie watched
      as his
      frown grew deeper and his eyes squinted some in frustration.
      "Gangrene?"
      "What else could it be?" It was distressing to her. She
      didn't
      even know the boy, and already her heart went out to him. He was too
      young to have to handle something like this. She tried to remember
      the promise she made to herself as she lead the doctor back to him.
      She stood by his side, trying to talk to him, comfort him, and most
      of all block him from seeing the worry spreading over the
      doctor's
      face.
      "What is it?"
      "Nothin' kid...you just rest."
      "Tell me."
      "Shhh..." Since he couldn't see the doctor,
      Marie's best guess was
      that she wasn't hiding her emotions as well as she thought
      she'd
      been. What could she do? Tell him? Certainly not. Not right away,
      anyway. After hearing the doctor clear his throat, she turned from
      the boy and followed him out of sight.
      "Gangrene?"
      "Most definitely."
      "What can we do about it?"
      "There's only one thing to do about it. Though I hate the
      thought
      of it...we'll have to amputate. There's no other way. If we
      hesitate
      and attempt a different cure, it will only develop into a worse case
      and cause more trouble. If we act now, however, he'll be able to
      keep
      more of the leg."
      "But doctor...he's so young..."
      "There's no other way."
      "Yes sir." With that, she left, slipping into her room, to
      write
      Logan a response. She needed someone to talk to, and since it
      couldn't be in person, a letter would have to do.


      Logan,
      We had a large transfer of patients today. With them came a young
      man...no more than nineteen. I reminded myself, after you left, that
      I couldn't get involved in any more lives. I couldn't care. I
      wouldn't care. Is that terrible of me? To disregard them as men,
      and
      to think of them as no more than cases? The man over in bed three
      with the eye problem...or the boy over in bed seven with the flu...It
      seems so wrong to me. How do you help someone if you aren't
      willing
      to care in the process? But how do you care without ending up hurt?
      Is there some kind of in between?

      He had a bullet wound, just below the knee. Bad. I knew from the
      minute I stripped away the pantleg and smelled it. The cold and the
      fever only confirmed it. Gangrene. And there's nothing any of us
      can
      do here. There have been techniques put into practice to try and help
      it...but none seem to work. The only sure fire cure is amputation. I
      know it's the only way, Logan, but I hate it all the same.
      He's too
      young to have to live with only one leg! He has barely begun to live
      as it is...

      It's just not fair. I know what you're thinking. "Marie,
      life ain't
      fair." All I want to know is...why not?

      Keep writing Logan, it's all I've got left.
      Love always,
      Marie



      TBC...(sniff. I'm so mean...)
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