Month 6 Day 16
1217 Hours
Bugalu
Bugalu carried a lunch tray
into sick bay, but slowed and stopped at the sound of raised voices coming from
the patient ward. He recognized both voices, but they were muffled just enough
that he wasn’t sure what they were saying.
Two nurses working at their
station looked up at him. Monroe gave him her usual smile and ‘I’m ready’ look,
but Karu’s greeting was more specific. “Please, go right in, Bugs. Maybe
they’ll stop fighting.”
“Don’t call me that,” he
stated absently. He walked across the lobby, put the tray on the counter. “What
are they fighting about?”
Karu glanced at the wall
that muffled the voices and shrugged. “She wants to be released. He wants her
to sleep. He’s even threatened to sedate her.”
“I was hoping she’d be awake
now, that she might have taken a nap following this morning’s negotiations,”
Bugalu stated, and glanced at the tray he’d brought. “Thought we could eat
together.”
“She had a nap,” Karu confirmed.
“Think it lasted 5 or 6 minutes. They’ve been arguing since. Apparently, the
restraints no longer help.”
“I saw him put the
restraints on her this morning, when we brought her back from the mess hall. I
thought she was joking about escaping, but if he’s been using restraints...” He
shook his head in incomprehension.
“Actually, until today,
she’s been an amenable patient,” Karu stated. “She complained of boredom
yesterday, but that’s understandable. She’s not the kind to sit still. No, the
restraints are to help her sleep.”
“How does being tied to the
bed help anyone sleep?”
“I don’t understand it, but apparently,
every time she falls asleep - for a couple minutes - she has a nightmare -
which she can never remember, afterwards - and wakes up. Violently. MacGregor
didn’t want her falling out of bed, so he put restraints on her. And for 2
days, more or less, she’d get up to 45 minutes of sleep before the nightmare
would wake her.”
“I’ve never known Mac to
have nightmares,” Bugalu muttered.
Karu canted her head to one
side. “Are you that familiar with her sleeping patterns, Bugsy?”
Walked
right into that one, didn’t I? “No,” he denied, and gave
her a lop-sided smile. “But if she had complained of nightmares, her brother
would have told me.”
“Her brother?”
“My roommate at the Academy.
That’s how I met Mac. And please don’t call me Bugsy.”
Karu gave him a small frown.
“Mac calls you that all the time.”
“Mac gives everybody a nickname.
And nobody can get her to stop using it, no matter how much it irritates them.
Least of all me.” He turned his head, realizing the wardroom had fallen silent.
“Sounds like they’re done arguing, so I’ll go in.”
“Maybe he finally sedated
her,” Monroe suggested.
“You know she doesn’t want
that,” Karu told the blond.
Monroe seemed unconcerned. “Since
when does the patient dictate their medical treatment?”
In the patient ward, MacGregor
stood beside Mac’s bed, watching the display board over her head. He glanced
around as Bugalu put the tray of food on the bedside table. “How is it you
always manage to arrive just as she’s fallen asleep?”
“Beats me, doc. But it’s
disappointing. I came to have lunch with her.”
“I thought you had brought a
lot of food. Well, pull up a chair and wait. This will only take a couple
minutes.”
“What do you mean?”
“Her blood pressure’s up,
breathing and heart rate erratic. My guess is she’s already having that blasted
nightmare, whatever it is.”
Bugalu watched her face instead
of the display. “Poor Mac. No more spots, but she looks as bad as I’ve ever
seen her.” He wrapped his hand around hers and bent over. “Wish I could help
you, Mac,” he whispered, and placed a brotherly kiss on her forehead before he
straightened up. Somehow, her face looked more relaxed.
“What did you do?” MacGregor
asked.
“What’s wrong?”
“Her blood pressure, heart
rate, breathing... all headed for normal sleep. That’s what the restraints used to do for her. Course it didn’t
last long, but a 45-minute nap is better than a 4-minute nap. I saw the kiss on
the forehead, but what did you say to her? If you don’t mind telling me.”
“Just that I wished I could
help her,” Bugalu answered. “And - if it makes any difference - I’m still
holding her hand.”
“You were holding her hand
when you brought her down here this morning,” MacGregor remembered.
Bugalu grimaced. “More like
she had a death grip on mine. The idea then was to keep her from punching Tall
Bear.”
“Right. He got a black eye
the last time. And Tall Bear’s the proverbial gentleman. She really doesn’t
trust men, does she?”
“No. Well, relatives, I
guess.”
“Can you stick around? After
you and Tall Bear left this morning, she slept an hour and a half. That’s the
approximate length of a sleep cycle, so if she could just get a half dozen naps
that long, she’d be in a lot better condition.”
“It’s my lunch break. I
can’t stay that long.”
“I’m not suggesting it. You
held her hand for what, less than 10 minutes this morning?”
“Yeah, about that, counting
trying to pry my hand out of her grip.”
“Ten minutes or less, and then
she slept 1 and a half hours. Another 10 minutes now might do the same.” He
looked around and brought over a chair for Bugalu to sit in. “You told her you
wanted to help.”
“Helping Mac is not usually
this simple,” Bugalu told him, and sat down. “Good thing I brought sandwiches. Easier
to eat with one hand. I’ll stay until I have to report back, okay?”
“Sounds great,” MacGregor
replied. “Let me know when you leave. I’d like to compare ratio of hand-holding
to amount of sleep.”
Bugalu grunted. “Now we’re
an experiment?”
“The better to help me
figure out how to help her,” MacGregor replied.
The helmsman smiled and
shook his head. “You’re the doc, Doc.”