(2530-01-29) Doctors be Doctoring
Summary: Jude and Finn go on lunch break together
RL Date: 29 Jan 2020
Related: none
jude finnegan 

Liberty Square

Liberty Square sits at the heart of Eavesdown, serving as link between the rather scruffy part of the town and the finer residential area to the east. The square itself is rectangular with a pretty fountain in the middle of it. Walkways lined by benches run towards the fountain, the grass between them is shaded by large trees. On the sidewalks surrounding the square vendors hawk food, drinks and little merchandise. The square is flanked by some rather impressive buildings including the Town Hall, a four-storey building crowned by a clock tower. One side of the facade is covered by a large billboard alternately showing news from around the Verse, traffic and weather alerts and commercials.


A few days have passed and Jude is back on the day shift at the clinic for two days a week. Which brings him back into Finn's company and the suggestion was made to find cheap lunch among the hawker stalls in Liberty Square. Fried noodles being about all that Jude can generally afford. But mindful that he isn't alone, he slows down on approaching the square and looks at his shorter companion. "What kind of food do you like?" He's wearing hospital scrubs over his street clothes and his black leatherjacket over the scrubs to protect himself from the cold.

Finn has one her street clothes, having changed out of her hospital ugly stuff, as they truly are BRIGHT WHITE and make her stand out in a crowd. She has a black wool frock coat with a shiny silver zipper and a red hat pulled down over her ears. "Whatever," she says into the wind, so the sound is swallowed and distant. "I normally just grab and Oaty Bar, or something." Her step slows as her eyes light on the clock tower billboard, taking in the latest news dispassionately. "That can't be good."

Jude only casts a passing glance at the billboard. "Feds being dicks again?", he takes a wild guess and heads for his favourite cheap noodle stall, greasy thick noodles with some bits of alibi vegetables thrown in and a can of sugary fizzy drink all for one credit. Lunch time special. "The Mexican van is good too, but I don't dare asking what's in their burritos.", he muses while they wait in line for the food, "What's your favourite food?"

A moment more to finish reading and Finn answers, "From one perspective. Or the miners, if you're a Fed. It all depends on which side of the conflict you're on, I guess." She follows him, reads over the menu sign, but doesn't order. "I'm supposed to have a favorite food?" A beat to think about this and she adds, "I have least favorite foods. I avoid meat most of the time, unless I know where it's sourced. I don't dislike it on principle, but I have a policy of not eating anything that's capable of becoming your best friend or that's likely to poison you if it starts to ferment. Plants have adopted a more forgiving policy on those scores." She moves along to the neighboring cart and picks up a bag of some processed, puffed plant snack - like Funyuns or Bugles but with a Mandarin name scrawled on them. To wash it down, she chooses a carton of 100% natural orange juice, which is natural in that it is orange, and is juice, but probably never saw an orange tree in its life. "You have a favorite food?" It's a obligation question - a return on his advance to meet social expectations of conversation.

"Well, I'm definitely not on the side of the fucking Feds.", Jude bursts out, then realizes that saying so to a Coreworlder may not be the wisest idea. Awkward silence follows until he distracts with the talk of food. "I kinda like everything.", he admits with the general appetite of a young man in his final growth spurt, trying to fill that bony frame with some content. "And well, you know, growing up on a farm, you learn to like the animals just well enough to not be upset when they end up on your plate. I'm rather fond of a good steak, me. And my Mom makes an awesome meat pie." Of course Mommy's cooking is the best, making him look wistful for a long moment. At least the arrival of his greasy noodles cheer him up again. "Oh and I like that spicy fried shit. Indian. Whozit."

"My mom specialized on things that could be made in a casserole dish. I'm not sure I learned to distinguish types of foods until I went to University. It was like, 'Oh, green casserole, today. Or red, with flecks of white in it.' Then, I was too busy to care about what I ate. It's a lot of work, med school." Without a pause to switch topics back to less comfortable ones, "You don't have to, you know? Be on their side. Your opinions are the sum of your experiences. Opinions should not be weighed on a scale of right or wrong, but rather looked at as way of understanding where someone's been and what knowledge or information they've been given or not given. I think. Anyway. Unless they act on them in reckless ways that do damage to themselves or others." Finnegan finds a planter that doubles as a bench to roost upon while she opens her puffed soy snacks.

"My Mom got kinda good at it once we moved to Kerry. But I was basically raised on cookies the first years." He begins munching on his noodles while he listens to that rather impressive speech tinged with a heavy dose of philosophy and sociology, both of which goes way over his head. "Well, they've never done sod all for us on Kerry, you know. Fucking Feds. Take our food, but don't give us a proper cortex connection, schools, anything. So fuck them." It's as eloquent as he gets. With a side of sulk.

"Compose a song about it?" Finn throws his own advice back at him. "Being angry about it can get you in trouble, or killed. Being angry about it on a small scale might get you noticed for a few minutes, but music…music and art.. music, art, and literature, those are the ways to get your message to the whole 'Verse. Or, play it safe and keep your mouth shut." There's something behind what she's saying. There's something dark in there, like guilt, or shame. "But in the end, it might not matter."

"They've thrown singers in jail before, especially during the war.", Jude points out and scratches the back of his head. "We sang shit about the Alliance back home on Kerry, where it was fun. But round here with the Feds always listening… I don't think I got it in me, you know? Being the great revolutionary. Although I admire them. Like this guy. He was a big deal on Earth that was apparently." He sets the container of noodles down, so he can push one sleeve up to reveal a tattoo of Che Guevara. Yes, that one. Vaguely recognizable.

"Yeah, but my point is, I bet I know the words to those same songs. You lived it, but I HEARD about it," Finnegan tells him. "Who is that? Hitler?" It's not that she's uneducated, but this tattoo icon identification, or even historical figures from ancient history are not her specialty. "I've heard about Abraham Lincoln. He did some neat things."

Jude frowns. "No. His name was Che. He and his mates were only a gang of rebels but they brought down the biggest regime of their time and built their own utopia where all people lived equally and happily." Well, history can get distorted along the centuries. "Hitler was a bit of a shit, I think. But I never cared much for history. All that stupid stuff like when did we terraform what planet and who ran things, like who cares? Anyway, if you wanna hear some songs about shit life on the Rim, I'm sure I can provide.", he offers with a smirk.

"It's taboo, but it doesn't mean I don't like them. Think of it this way - I could hate you, just for saying the stuff you did. For thinking a guy who overthrew the government was good. For being a radical. But what would be the point in that? Hating you for believing you deserved more and were given less. It's probably true. Utopias only really work in small numbers, and even then they're normally overrun by someone who wants everything, or wants everyone. I think that's what Hitler did. And Abraham Lincoln." Yeah, history is not Finnegan's forte. "Otherwise, why would the Alliance even care what the people on the Rim want to do? An alliance is a group working together, not a single party controlling all the other members of the so-called alliance. I think. It's not a greek or latin stem, but I still think that's right."

"Well, you shouldn't hate me. I'm a cool guy, not a radical. I don't wanna build an utopia. People would get on my tits anyway. And trust me, the Alliance doesn't give a shit what we do on the Rim, as long as we make their monthly quota of steaks for the posh gits in the Core. I just wanna be… eeeeeh…" There's a drawn-out sigh while he tries to pick up the last noodles with his plastic fork. "Be useful somehow, y'know? MAke a difference."

"Yeah." Finn draws out the word. "Yeah, I know." She crunches a puffy soy hoop, her lips curling into an unconscious frown. She looks away to the clock tower, again. The sign board, again. Curious as to what's there now, or just turning away from emotion? "Good luck with that."

Maybe Jude gets a sense that the doctor is a bit restless or emotional. But he's a young guy. Feelings are The Devil. Ugh. So he just stands around awkwardly. Luckily a little girl chooses just this moment to take a tumble off a high slide in the kiddie play area and faceplant into the lawn. Cue bawling and worried mothers crowding around. Jude gives Finn a look. They're on lunch break after all…

Finn gives him a shrug, a nod that's more a movement of eyes than head, and walks toward the play area, discarding her bag and drink box into a trash receptacle on the way. She gestures to Jude as an afterthought. "Can we help? He's a nurse."

"Trainee.", Jude hisses at Finn to remind her that his abilities are restricted to serving breakfast and putting band-aids on. The little girl is bawling like a banshee, though on first sight she only sees to have a fresh scratches. "My haaaaand!", she bawls and holds a limp paw out to the young woman who's presumably her mother. Who gives Jude a rather doubtful look, then turns her attention on Finn.

Finnegan rolls her eyes at Jude. Parents don't like the word trainee. Parents don't trust trainees. "So let's train you." To the gathered mothers and other onlookers, "He passed first-aid with flying colors, and I won't let him do anything that will harm her." She absently pulls her name badge out so they can see she's a qualified doctor. "No, don't let her sit up. Stay still, Baby, for just a moment, Okay? That's a good girl." Glancing over at the slide, she mentally measures the distance fallen, while her fingers recreate the fall in the air to determine the angle of impact on the child's neck.

The mothers, gathering like curious vultures around the expected carnage, seem reassured by the ID badge and the doctor. Much better than a trainee nurse. A male one as that. Jude seems willing to be taught though and squats down beside Finn and the girl. Who tries to sit up of course and get hugged by Mommy. "Now now, come on, Mindy, you'll be okay, listen to the doctor." "It huuuuurts!", Mindy wails and the mother inspects the blossoming dark-red bruising of the skin. "Is it broken, Doc?"

"Check for neck and back injury first, and figure out where she actually hurts. When working on kids, sometimes they can't identify or pinpoint the actual location of pain, or will just answer what they think you want to hear, so keep your tone calm and reassuring and don't get frustrated if she doesn't know," Finnegan instructs. To the mother, "If it is, we'll get it good as new in no time. Right Mindy? I can tell you're a brave girl and you want to help Nurse Jude, so do your best for me to answer all the questions he has, alright? You can do that, can't you?" Meanwhile, she fishes out her PDA to call for assistance, should they determine it's more than just the shock of falling. The blossoming bruise makes her think they need backup.

"He doesn't look like a Nurse.", Mindy informs Finn earnestly, which makes Jude's heckles rise. "I AM a nurse. And I have little sisters just around your age." Which helps exactly no one right now. Mindy sniffles and waits for the Doc to actually do her job. "Miss, it huuuurts. My hand hurts…" The bruise is spreading nicely over the lower arm. The assembled vultures cluck together and decide it's probably a fracture. "You know, Harriet's niece, she fell off a horse once, broke her arm. HEaled badly, could never be properly used again.", one of them shares with the others. "Nooo!", Mindy's mother protests.

"What does a nurse look like?" Finnegan asks. "To me, a nurse looks like the person who took nurse training." But if they're going to insist she do ALL the work, fine. On her knees, she moves around to where the child's head is, reaching into her coat and under her sweater to withdraw a penlight. Every doctor always carries a penlight, right? This allows her to examine the pupils and ears for immediate signs of concussion. "Besides your hand, does it hurt anywhere else? Connelly," because it's work, and work requires last names, "Can you get ice from one of the vendors for her hand?" Back to the little girl, "You're doing great, but I need you to try not to move for just a minute more, okay?" After she's ascertained there is no head trauma, she gently massages the muscles of the child's face to see if she gets a pain response, checks the nose, looks up into the nose as best she can without an otoscope, and asks her, "Do you feel any tickly feelings anywhere in your body?"

Jude actually seems relieved to be bossed about and hurries off to find ice. The circle of mothers is muttering now, watching, trying to answer the other kids' questions about what happened, what the lady doc is doing and if Mindy will die. The latter doesn't seem to be the case. Apart from the hand hurting. The child considers the question for a moment, then nods earnestly at Finn. "I gotta pee."
<Public> Fine mutters at internet and code.

If some of the people there find the girl's statement to be funny, Finnegan finds it reassuring. Firstly, the kid can feel things down there. Secondly, she can control the muscles enough to hold the urine. Both of these are great signs. "Can you hold it a little longer for me, do you think?" She determines that neck and back injury are unlikely with a few more pokes and prods, then warns the little girl, "This might hurt, ok. I want you to tell me if it's a big hurt, a medium hurt, or a little hurt." She moves on to examining the injured arm, keeping it still with gentle pressure in places that are not all red and damaged while she tenderly touches the area of bruising and examines the fingers, particularly the tips, of the child's hand.

For a moment Mindy does the trying-to-be-brave thing, but then she wails enough to shatter windows in the vicinity when Finn hits the actual injured spot and her mother rages. "Don't hurt my child!" Jude chooses just this moment to reappear with a large pink Slurpee plastic cup, filled to the brim with ice cubes. "What's happening?", he wants to know. "Big hurt.", Mindy whines.

Finnegan is still looking at Mindy, but explains calmly to the mother, "It's likely fractured, but it will need a scan to be sure so that the doctors at the hospital know best how to set it so that it WILL HEAL PROPERLY." She hates crowds and she really hates stupid, busybody parents spreading propaganda about poorly healed breaks. "Connelly, good. Need to find something to wrap that in. Anybody got a towel, a shirt, something they're not using that we can use to make an ice pack? Go ahead and call for a pick-up. I think it would be best to transport to keep it immobilized. "We don't love big hurts, Mindy, but we can make them feel better with the ice pack, and then you get a little trip to the hospital, where I know for a fact that they have grape and cherry slushy pops for girls who have been as brave as you are being."

A bunch of colourful kiddie jackets are promptly offered as well as the more sensible offer of a large scarf one mother sacrifices. Jude actively helps getting the hand packaged in ice cubes (which makes Mindy yelp again) and by then a sleek little hospital shuttle, probably "loaned" from Persephone City at some point arrives. Both the prospect of oversugared drinks and a ride in that sleek little thing brighten Mindy considerably. "I'm so glad you were there.", the mother turns to Finnegan, placing a paw on the doctor's shoulder, "She'll be fine, won't she?"

It takes everything in Finn's power not to flinch at being touched like that by a stranger. "She will," Finnegan reassures the mother. "But she might not know it for a short while. Once they get her to the clinic, we can get her something for the pain. If it's a clean break, it's just a matter of letting it heal. If not, we'll let you know your options. Remember, kids heal fast. Thank you for listening and encouraging her to listen." Not that the mom really did anything of the kind, but she didn't actively interfere, so…. "Good work, Connelly." Back to heating up trays for you!

Ah, at least Nurse Jude will have something exciting to tell back at school in Persephone City. Everyone troops back to the clinic in the shuttle, so that Mindy's fracture can be taken care of. The X-ray will reveal that it's a clean one, so she can get a nice cast, which everyone in her class can sign and draw pictures on.

True to her word, Finnegan makes sure that there are pain killers and slushy pops involved. Stickers, also. They might not be the most desired cartoon characters, but they're stickers, so yay! She also asks if she can be the first person to sign the cast and, if allowed, will draw a terrible picture of band-aid and sign it Dr. Hill. After all is said and done, she goes to the locker room and sits, muttering about how there's been over 200,000 years of human existence and we still can't make safe playground equipment.

Kids like taking risks! Jude may have his own story to share how he climbed around the barnyard and fell on his arse from seven feet, bruising mostly his ego. "That was quite something.", he smiles happily at Finn, once he returns from leading Mindy and her mother to the exit. Of course he signed the cast too with a rather elaborate rock star autograph. Could be worth a fortune some day!

"Did you ever break anything?" Finnegan asks. "I fractured a thumb, once. And I fell down the stairs, but that was only a sprain." She holds her head in her hands, takes a deep breath and adds, "Well, you did your little bit of good for today. So goal accomplished, right? Back to work, I guess." It's amazing how long one person can run on soy puffs and artificial orange juice. "I think I need coffee."

"I was once thrown by a young horse and got thrown into a post that left a big gash in my leg.", Jude explains and smirks at the memory, "Since there's sod all back home, my Dad got my Mom's sewing kit out to stop the bleeding, then put me on a cart for the three-hour journey to the nearest place that passes for a town." He grins mischievously at the doc, "I'd show you the scar but I don't drop my pants for women I barely know."

"Hope he's a good seamstress," Finnegan actually grins at the thought. "I wouldn't let my father within 100 feet of me with a needle. Mom either. Maybe I should start carrying around a basic field-dressing kit. This is two times in two days that sky has fallen in Eavesdown. I wonder if the 'Verse is trying to tell me something."

"It was… well it isn't exactly pretty but beats bleeding to death, right? One guy at school actually says they can do stuff to make the scar almost disappear. But I didn't even dare asking what it would cost and well… I look stupid in shorts anyway. And yea, you should always be prepared for emergencies around here." "JUDE CONNELLY, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" It's Head Nurse Wu, descending on him like a black dragon from Chinese mythology, "Your lunch break was over half an hour ago!" The young man pulls his head in like a turtle fleeing into its house. "Guess I should go.", he tells Finn, making a face at her with his back turned to Wu.

"Guess so," Finnegan wrinkles her nose, then tells Wu over his shoulder, "He was assisting me, Nurse. Thank you, Connelly." And off she goes to find her coffee mug and refuel for the next emergency. Or ingrown toenail.

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