2021-12-08 - Welcome to town, doc; I need stitches

Tuesday afternoon. It is, fortunately, not a notoriously busy time for the emergency room. Meaning Garrett hasn't had to wait long to be the only person sitting there, clearly next to be seen. Dark skin just slightly ashen, a puffy, charcoal gray coat on, what brings him in is clear; his leg is propped up on the chair across from him, several towels wrapped tightly around the calf, the previously-white fabric of the ones closest to his leg dark red. The bleeding looks to be mostly controlled; there's no blood dripping on the floor, and the red doesn't seem to be spreading.

"Garrett," a nurse calls for him, and he rises, limping heavily enough that the nurse immediately helps him make his way further into the hospital to be seen by a doctor.

Tuesday afternoon and Dr. Abraham Valentine has already been hard at work. Garrett is not his first patient and certainly won't be the last today, but as soon as Garrett is escorted into a hospital room, Dr. Valentine is not far behind. Yes, he's pulling an ER shift because they could use some help today. But He keeps things simple.

"Afternoon, Mr. Marcus. I'm Dr. Abraham Valentine." he wasn't rushed in, so he doesn't move with urgency. He notices that the bleeding has been effectively stopped, thoug hhe keeps an eye on it. "I see you've hurt yourself pretty badly, do you recall what happened?" Making sure he didn't fall and hit his head too or something. Even though he can see the obvious problem, part of medicine is to check for the hidden ones that may influence other injuries.

He seems friendly enough, even if he just gets straight to the point.

"Just Garrett, doctor," the man corrects as he hoists himself onto the exam table, glancing from the leg to the doctor. "Oh, was moving an old desk that must've been more rotten than it seemed because it broke and I don't know if it was a nail or a chunk of wood or what got me pretty good in the leg," he answers. "I just rinsed it off and wrapped it best I could, I didn't stop to look too close at what cut me."

"Very well, Garrett-" Abraham allows himself to be corrected. "Well, you seem to have managed to knick yourself good from what I'm seeing." That being, the extent of red on his leg. Here's hoping he didn't get himself through an artery. "Do you feel tingling in your spine or your feet?"

Garrett twists his torso this way and that a little, then wiggles his toes a little, shaking his head. "No, nothing like that," he answers in the controlled tone of someone doing their best to sound casual when they are very obviously concerned, slightly wide eyes mostly fixed on the injured leg.

"Good news and bad news."

Abraham tells Garrett after he's done thoroughly investigating the wound, including parting the bandages just a -tad-, not enough to pull them off or relieve the squeezed pressure, but just enough to really look at it.

"You're walking days are still ahead of you, and if you don't stab yourself with anything, you'll be fine." which must be a relief that he's not going to lose a leg or something. "We can make sure the leg won't get infected." Abraham straightens out as he stands. "What is your profession, Garrett?" he looks him in the eyes.

The wound underneath is jagged and uneven, but not deep enough to have dug into the muscle. Ugly, but probably not entirely demanding of a surgeon.

"Well, that sure beats amputation," Garrett says, and while his smile is slightly forced, it manages to reach his eyes. "I'll be a park ranger up at Olympic once the new year rolls around. Right now just helping a friend renovate the old Bauer Building downtown."

Abraham nods ever so softly. "Its not a deep wound, you'll probably need stitches. However, considering your limp and considerable pain, take the next few days to rest up. Best not to irritate your wound more than it already is." Abraham offers. "Meantime, we'll give you some pain medication and a checkup in a week or so. Sound good to you?"

Abraham lays out the game plan, so to speak. Thankfully, if Abraham was only in this for the surgery, he wouldn't be that great of a doctor. He's a doctor to help people, even with the stuff that wouldn't really demand his attention.

Garrett does not seem at all surprised by the need for stitches, giving a small, not particularly enthusiastic nod. "So put off starting the yoga for a bit," he says with faint amusement. The pain meds get a rather firm head shake, though. "I'll just take some Tylenol or something if it's too bad. It's mostly only when I'm trying to put weight on it that it hurts, and since I shouldn't be doing much of that, it should be fine," he insists.

Well, depsite being a doctor, Garrett does have the right to refuse medication and further help, so Abraham just gives him a light nod. "Indeed." He chuckles, before he nods. "Alright. In that case, we'll clean you up and get you on your way home soon. I'll be the one giving you the stitches, so you can blame me if I do it wrong." It was intended to be a joke.

There's a small nod from Garrett, a hint of relief that there wasn't any further pressure for pain meds. "Sounds good," he says of getting him stitched up and on his way. "Suppose you'll want my leg up here?" he assumes, shifting on the table, closing his eyes as he slowly swings one leg, then slowly lifts the injured one, to a height someone could actually work at. "So. How long have you been a doctor here?" he asks, still in forced-casual.

Sure enough, one of the nurses brings in some stitches. He probably told her to do it before hand, but Abraham nods. "that'd be correct." He informs Garrett as he pulls up a chair and raises it so he can focus on the leg as he gets his tools ready. "Not too long. I moved down here not long ago for family reasons, but I used to work at the Inova Fairfax hospital up north. Suppose I'm pretty good at my job." He informs him as he slowly gets to work.

"Deep breath" he warns, before He applies an alcohol swab after he removes the bandages, the wrapping having done its work, in order to disinfect it. You can never be certain and to assume is to make an ass of yourself.

Afterwards he gets to work on the stitching. To be honest, Garrett probably won't even feel him slowly knitting flesh together to allow it to heal correctly. He seems to go slowly, but his work is that of precision to cause the least discomfort, while also leaving as little room as possible for the stitching to pop open.

"What about you, have you lived in Gray Harbor long?"

Garrett nods, but doesn't pry, into the family issues that forced the move. He takes the deep breath as instructed, eyes focused int he ceiling as the wound is cleaned, lips pressed into a tight line. That breath is let out slowly as the cleaning, the worst of the ordeal, is done, and he actually watches with an admittedly morbid fascination as the flesh is stitched back together.

"Oh, I just got back to town a couple weeks ago. And am clearly off to a splendid start," he answers. "And was only here for maybe half a year before I left, so... not particularly long, no."

Abraham believes in doign the worst things first. Rip off the band-aid right?

But he keeps his focus on the stitching, not once looking at Garrett and therefore not noticing him watching in his fascination.

That last bit does make him smile though. "Life happens in mysterious ways. Especially where furniture accidents may occur." humor lines his words before he continues. "Then we are alike in that sense. Though you've been in town a bit longer than I have. My first shift here was only maybe a week ago. Making steady progress on that note." He seems to already be starting to wrap up, but there is a short ways left to go.

"Are there any spots in particular you would recommend for eating places? I realize my working long hours is leaving me with an apetite I can't ignore much longer. And it would make my breaks less boring."

"That it does," Garrett can't help but agree, though his dry tone suggests he's not quite as amused by that assessment of how things shake out as he was maybe meant to be. Garrett thinks a few moments regarding food, 'hmmm'ing quietly.

"My main go-to when Dita and I don't feel like cooking is pizza," he admits. "But there's a Thai place a couple doors down from Dance Evolution in the strip mall, if you know where that is? Tried that the other day and it was pretty good, I thought."

Abraham smirks a little bit as he finishes up the stitching and snips off the last line. "And done." Abraham checks to make sure the stitches are firmly in -and they are-. His attention shifts -finally- fully to Garrett. "Thai place? I'll have to check it out. I've had a brief time to look around a little bit just to be aware of my environment, but I haven't looked into things too deeply, unlike your scratch here." But he backs away from the table.

"But thanks for the help. Remember, don't do any strenuous activity or hard labor, or you'll break the stitches. Other than that, you should be able to operate relatively normally."

Garrett gives the stitches a vaguely impressed nod. He is not an expert by any means, but they look like. they're doing their job and don't have him in excruciating pain, so that's a five star job as far as he's concerned.

"Yeah, Thai place," he confirms. "I don't remember what it's called, but it's the only one in the strip mall, can't miss it." He tentatively flexes his calf, stopping the moment he feels the skin stretching against the stitches a bit. "Take it easy a few days. I can probably manage that," he repeats back, nodding. "And no worries. Probably see you around," Garrett says with a polite nod. He swings his legs back around and /almost/ hops down without thinking, instead making sure his weight is in the good leg before walking, still with a limp but not so bad as when he first arrived. "Not bad. You should go pro," he tells the doctor with a grin.

Abraham doesn't seem to be the type to get proud over his work, but the compliment to his efforts does earn a bit of a smile. "Well, if you see me here you're probably not doing what I asked you to." He jokes. "But the feeling's mutual, Garret." But he watches as he walks with a limp still, but noticeably improved.

"Isn't that the truth." He smirks. "But, take care. You can schedule a check up with the front desk if you feel like, but otherwise, let us know if the injury gets worse or you start feeling tingly in your ligaments." He opens the door for the fellow and lets him walk out unaided, should he wish.

"Well... yeah. Hopefully next time we meet it's somewhere else," Garrett agrees with a small laugh, nodding. He nods about the follow-up appointment, but the brief eyeroll makes it clear he's probably not coming back unless something goes very, very sideways with his injury. "Until next time, doc," he says with a nod, limping out. It's clear he should probably ask for help, but youthful pride doesn't often go hand in hand with common sense.

Abraham nods lightly to Garret. "Till next time." Of course, Abraham shadows him as he walks, though with a gesture he calls for the nurses, who offer to help Garret. Youthful pride be damned. But, Abraham's job here is done as he moves on to the next patient.

He still has quite the day ahead of him.