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Author Topic: A Pound Of Cure (Cathreine)  (Read 37 times)

A Pound Of Cure (Cathreine)
« on: February 12, 2020, 06:00:09 PM »
September 845
Field Medicine Classroom, Training Corps Barracks & Grounds

Mercedes finally grabbed the wooden spool of thread that'd rolled off the table and proceeded to escape halfway across the classroom. When she stood upright, the majority of the class had either vanished outside into the beautiful weather or gathered around their Instructor of Field Medicine with questions; she had none of her own, as this was only their fifth class and it hadn't yet covered more than she already knew from Julia. She was a little bored in class but willing to bear it.

Idly, she rolled up the loose thread onto its spool as she wandered back to her sunlit table and the rest of her practice supplies that needed clearing away still. Normally she would have cut off the thread that'd touched the floor and discarded it, but this was simple cotton thread rather than the proper waxed, surgical kind -- they hadn't got that far yet and contamination wasn't a concern. Instead when she was done, she plopped the spool back in the small box with its twin, and began collecting everything else together: the needles slotted neatly, in size order, into their cloth envelope; the rolls of thin gauze and fastening pins; the long tweezers. The strange disembodied cloth limbs they'd been practicing sutures on, faded and dirty from so many cadets before them, were strewn everywhere like a child's imitation of a battlefield.

Although her gaze had initially traced the pleasant breeze to one of the open windows and the squirrel perched there on the sill, Mercedes realized, with a quick scan of the room, that it was a mess. She also realized that this had been the case after each class period and that one time she'd gone to the supply room at the back, it'd been awful too. Even the shelves where they stacked their textbooks and crates of practice materials looked like an animal had rooted through it. Surprising, considering the need for order and cleanliness with such a subject matter. While her own home hadn't been the tidiest because of Julia, she did at least know you were supposed to be responsible and take care of your things -- to make everything easier and more efficient if nothing else.  Did no one else care?

I guess I can put in a little extra effort, she thought, closing the box of suture supplies. Gotta put my own stuff away anyhow. Not that I planned on cleaning an entire classroom by myself.

“I’m surrounded by the past and it is demanding something from me.”

~ Anna Akhmatova


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