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Called on the Doctor and the Doctor Said

Posted on Fri Mar 31st, 2017 @ 9:46pm by Captain Christian Rogers

Mission: S1E2: The Surprise Attack
Location: Medical
Timeline: October 5, 2388; 1200h - MD1

Rogers went back to Marine Country to grab his gear to get it stowed into his quarters while checking in with the OpsO, MXO and the platoon leaders. He was going to set a general company meeting for 1400 hours, which should give the entire company a chance at chow, allow for a good chunk of field day to begin and be the first break and allow for the Docs to...

"Crap," Rogers muttered while speaking with the others. "I'd better go see Medical, get their certifications onboard and set them up to meet with the CMO." He glanced at his chrono, hoping that the CMO wasn't one to keep those 'standard Fleet hours'. After giving quick orders to his Marine command team, he made his way back up to the Fleeter side of the ship and where the Medical Bay could be found.

"Excuse me," he said, as he went up to the desk. "I'm Captain Christian Rogers, I'd like to speak with the CMO?"

Dr. Thysev overheard the request and made her way out of her office to see who was in need of her services. Two patients in thirty minutes, this was shaping up to be a busy assignment and she loved it. She was worried when she had received her transfer that she would have too much free time on her hands. When she arrived at the reception desk she witnessed a human talking to the Ferengi nurse working there. "It's OK Reyga, I'll take him. How can I help you, Marine?"

"Sorry to bother you," Rogers said doing the quick arithmetic to determine rank equivalency. Since a Marine Captain and Fleeter Lieutenant were on the same level, he was able to relax a bit. "But, my command arrived here late and, well, I've got several things that need attention. First, I have four corpsman attached to my command and I need to make sure that they're certified through medical on this ship. Also, I should probably get my own check-in done, when you've got a chance."

Kila smiled warmly at the soldier. "I practically just arrived here myself. I can give you an exam right now and we can schedule appointments for your men after. If you would please head to Exam 1 we can begin."

"Sure, doctor," Rogers said, as he moved toward the indicated area, removing his blouse as he did so. "It's just, I'm not Terran biologically," he said as he set the shirt aside and sat on the bed, waiting for the scans to begin. "I'm Betazoid by birth."

Kila followed him into the room and blushed at her mistake. "I'm sorry Captain Rogers, I meant no disrespect. Computer bring up music file Kila three." Soft music filled the room as she turned to the console closest to the exam bed and pulled up the relevant medical data on her patient. Following a quick study of the records, she grabbed her tricorder and began running scans of the Marine Captain. "Is there any new injuries or illnesses that you would like to add to you records?"

Rogers hesitated a moment as he took a deep breath. "Just the headaches haven't completely gone away. They still spike when my natural Betazoid capabilities are active." He spoke slowly, as if afraid of admitting weakness. "And my swing seems to be losing power, but that could just be because I'm out of practice."

KIla thought over the information she was given. "If you feel that they are becoming a problem I can prescribe medication for temporary relief but I would recommend a full neurological examination. As for your swing, your muscle tissue looks to have no tears, so I prescribe more time in the holodeck," the doctor said with a giggle.

Rogers's head bowed as he heard the 'full neurological examination.' That sounded...bad. "Will that...will I have to be relieved of duty if I get the scan?" he asked. "My command...I don't want to be taken off duty." But, he was also remembering Beihns and how he hid a condition from all of them until it was nearly too late.

Kila looked at him reassuredly. "I would only pull you from duty if I feel that any condition put you or your men's life at risk. How often do you have these headaches and how severe are they?"

Rogers shook his head. "I call them 'headaches' but they're more like...echoes. On my last assignment, I subjected to a Ferengi thoughtmaker," he said the word in Ferenginar only to have the universal translater put it into the nearest Federation Standard translation. "It was connected to another device and keyed to Betazoid physiology. I''m a telepath, Doctor, it's not like I can shut that off! But every stray thought and those ghostly thoughts echo in my head. Yeah, I get headaches from it but..." He shook his head. "But the physical pain isn't so bad. It'' was the moment of their deaths. Each person who died on that ship, the moment of their death was shoved into my brain as if each where a spike. They're getting quieter now, but it's been so long that I'm afraid they're never going to go away!"

He didn't know why he was telling her this. He was keeping it a secret for so long because...he knew what happened to Marines who had mental health issues...medical discharge was the best that could happen. Then what would he do? Where would he go? He'd be considered "mental" so his options were limited and he refused to dishonor the Corps by turning mercenary. But he was also getting beaten down by the months of having the sporadic and debilitating attacks.

The doctor look at her patient sympathetically. "I can give you a sedative that would lower your telepathic abilities but I would advise against it. What I would recommend is counseling sessions paired with the use of a Neurocortical monitor to allow me to see what effect it is having on you.
And if you are concerned about privacy, I can personally council you in here in my office. All your men will think is that you are assisting me. Is that an acceptable solution Captain?"

"Counseling?" he said, making a face and hanging his head. "I didn't realize it was that..." He shook his head. He knew what he wanted to do, which was to immediately reject the idea and offer. He wasn't some weakling that couldn't deal and needed 'counseling'. He could deal quite well but...again...he remembered Captain Beihns, his former CO and the conditions he hid. He also recalled the Marines he'd ordered to undergo counseling for problems they developed - Marines who he served with and had no problem continuing to serve. It wasn't until the word was thrown at him that it became a 'stigma'. But...

"Okay, Doctor, if you feel that's what's needed. I...I don't like the idea of needing counseling but, if I were one of my command and you were telling me this, I'd order it in a minute. Nothing is more important to me than my command and making sure they're okay. I guess that means me as well?"

"Those in command always protect others yet forget taking care of themselves. We can begin whenever you're ready. There is nothing wrong with counseling, remember this is not weakness. Your brain can be injured just like the body and like every injury it just needs rehabbed."

"Yes, Doctor, just...some old ideas die hard, I guess. And I'm ready to start, if it means getting rid of these headaches and echoes. But, also, your order that I need more time in the holodeck batting cages, can I get that as an official prescription? We've only go so many holodecks and it'd be nice to have some time to really get practicing on that swing!"

Kila laughed. "I think I can manage that. Come back tomorrow and we'll begin your first counseling session." She reached for a PADD and imputed a few commands before handing it to the marine. "I have cleared you to have an hour three days a week for the next two weeks for physical rehab and scheduled you for daily 'field medicine training' to begin tomorrow at 1300."

"Ah, shit, there's going to be a test, isn't there?" He asked, trying to smile now that the hard part was over. It was all orders now and, as a Marine, he followed orders. "Thanks, Doctor. Am I good to get back to work now?"

"Yes with lots of essays." Kila quipped without missing a beat. "Yes you are cleared. Have a good day, Marine."

"There's always gotta be essays," Rogers said. "So many essays when I got my degree in underwater basketweaving." He shook his head as he got off the bed and put on his uniform blouse. "See you tomorrow, Doctor," he said as he went to leave medical, not sure how he felt but hoping that soon he'd feel much, much better.


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