Dana done got ill
Jan. 7th, 2013 09:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
loloteheThe headache nagged Dana all day. It whined while she walked down the corridor, growled when she sat down or stood up, and barked furiously each time she coughed. It was tenacious, unforgiving, and growing larger by the hour.
The coughs themselves were minor—a slight tickle at the back of the throat. It was more a means to scratch that itch than clear any blockage. That had started soon after she woke up, as a series of simple harrumphs while dressing and eating first-meal. It had graduated to a dry cough by mid-meal and no amount of water was clearing it. The irritation sat, like something ashy just behind the soft-palate, and as delicate as it might be, it could not be shaken free.
An hour before final-meal, Dana felt a tightness in her chest. It gripped under her armpits, like a hand threating to lift her from the ground. She rubbed her eyes, now dry and annoyed, and coughed into her elbow. It was still dry and unproductive.
Rather than go to the mess for final-meal, Dana marched herself to the infirmary. She wasn't hungry and she was tired of the cough. It was not going to leave on its own accord.
They gave her an antihistamine and said it must have something to do with her time on the station at Big-Bear. People out there were always getting ill.
She noted that had been two weeks ago and was told that it might have been a delayed reaction. “Drink plenty of fluids,” they told her. “Try to get some rest.”
What irritated her the most about the entire affair was she was due for a haircut that afternoon. In her time dealing with The Effort, Dana's hair had become unruly. She might have been able to put down an uprising on a colony, but her hair was staging its own revolt. The sides were getting shaggy and her bangs were getting long; she constantly had to brush it out of her face. Dana had been able to tie it back in the interim, but it would only be correct after it had been pruned back into a style more manageable. It tickled her eyes and felt heavy on the back of her neck.
Back in her quarters, Dana fed her axolotls, after washing her hands furiously. Whatever she was going through, she did not want the naked, pink lives she kept in a tank to suffer as well. The axolotls ate their flakes as happily (or unhappily—it was hard to tell) as they always had. Dana tried to imagine them as satisfied, as it was the best she could offer.
Shortly after that, she felt cold.
The temperature in her quarters was still twenty Celsius. The axolotl tank was the correct temperature as well, so Dana figured she was running a slight fever.
She went to the infirmary again, where they gave her a fever-reducer. Again, they told her to rest and drink lots of fluids. They even gave her a powder to add to water for increased vitamin-C intake. They suggested a hot shower.
Dana mixed one of the packets with a glass of water and quickly choked it down. She followed that with a hot shower and a second helping of the vitamin-C powder. It was an hour before she usually retired, but she decided to go to bed early.
Ten hours later, Dana's body was sore and shaking. She stumbled from her bed to her desk, trying to start the day, but could not focus. Her eyes were too irritated for her mylar contacts, so she kept the lights in her quarters low, but the displays were too bright without them. She could not work in this condition.
She notified the infirmary, and let them know what the situation was.
An hour later, she fed her axolotls, after scrubbing her hands. She did not want them to get sick as well.
First-meal period had come and gone, but Dana wasn't hungry. She knew this was an effect of whatever the illness was and checked her in-quarters rations. There were still five of the vitamin-C packets, so she took one with half a protein bar. There was still the mopping-up operation to oversee after the event at Cygnus-16 and the forms to be completed were never-ending.
Thirty minutes later, she vomited it all up.
The room was intolerably cold at this point. The temperature was still correct, so it had to be an effect of the infection, whatever it was. Dana took another shower, very hot, and tried to bundle herself in a blanket. She didn't want to raise the warmth in the room too much, out of fear of harming the axolotls.
The Cygnus-16 event had left thirty families in need of notification. Dana was going through the final manifest, trying to account for the accident when someone from the infirmary came to her quarters.
This was several hours after mid-meal. The Shipping authority doctor (or was it just a nurse? It wasn't anyone she recognized) took a temp-reading and a throat swab. He nodded gravely, said it was a sinus infection, and left several more vitamin-C packets behind. He did not give Dana any more antihistamines or fever reducers.
“It it's an infection,” she asked, “shouldn't there be some antibiotics or antivirals?”
“You'll burn through it,” he said. “It's nothing to worry about.”
Shortly after the doctor left, the shakes started. Dana was sure she was just shivering, but it made it difficult to complete her work. She delegated the remainder to an underling, took another hot shower, and went to bed.
Sleep did not come easily.
The coughs themselves were minor—a slight tickle at the back of the throat. It was more a means to scratch that itch than clear any blockage. That had started soon after she woke up, as a series of simple harrumphs while dressing and eating first-meal. It had graduated to a dry cough by mid-meal and no amount of water was clearing it. The irritation sat, like something ashy just behind the soft-palate, and as delicate as it might be, it could not be shaken free.
An hour before final-meal, Dana felt a tightness in her chest. It gripped under her armpits, like a hand threating to lift her from the ground. She rubbed her eyes, now dry and annoyed, and coughed into her elbow. It was still dry and unproductive.
Rather than go to the mess for final-meal, Dana marched herself to the infirmary. She wasn't hungry and she was tired of the cough. It was not going to leave on its own accord.
They gave her an antihistamine and said it must have something to do with her time on the station at Big-Bear. People out there were always getting ill.
She noted that had been two weeks ago and was told that it might have been a delayed reaction. “Drink plenty of fluids,” they told her. “Try to get some rest.”
What irritated her the most about the entire affair was she was due for a haircut that afternoon. In her time dealing with The Effort, Dana's hair had become unruly. She might have been able to put down an uprising on a colony, but her hair was staging its own revolt. The sides were getting shaggy and her bangs were getting long; she constantly had to brush it out of her face. Dana had been able to tie it back in the interim, but it would only be correct after it had been pruned back into a style more manageable. It tickled her eyes and felt heavy on the back of her neck.
Back in her quarters, Dana fed her axolotls, after washing her hands furiously. Whatever she was going through, she did not want the naked, pink lives she kept in a tank to suffer as well. The axolotls ate their flakes as happily (or unhappily—it was hard to tell) as they always had. Dana tried to imagine them as satisfied, as it was the best she could offer.
Shortly after that, she felt cold.
The temperature in her quarters was still twenty Celsius. The axolotl tank was the correct temperature as well, so Dana figured she was running a slight fever.
She went to the infirmary again, where they gave her a fever-reducer. Again, they told her to rest and drink lots of fluids. They even gave her a powder to add to water for increased vitamin-C intake. They suggested a hot shower.
Dana mixed one of the packets with a glass of water and quickly choked it down. She followed that with a hot shower and a second helping of the vitamin-C powder. It was an hour before she usually retired, but she decided to go to bed early.
Ten hours later, Dana's body was sore and shaking. She stumbled from her bed to her desk, trying to start the day, but could not focus. Her eyes were too irritated for her mylar contacts, so she kept the lights in her quarters low, but the displays were too bright without them. She could not work in this condition.
She notified the infirmary, and let them know what the situation was.
An hour later, she fed her axolotls, after scrubbing her hands. She did not want them to get sick as well.
First-meal period had come and gone, but Dana wasn't hungry. She knew this was an effect of whatever the illness was and checked her in-quarters rations. There were still five of the vitamin-C packets, so she took one with half a protein bar. There was still the mopping-up operation to oversee after the event at Cygnus-16 and the forms to be completed were never-ending.
Thirty minutes later, she vomited it all up.
The room was intolerably cold at this point. The temperature was still correct, so it had to be an effect of the infection, whatever it was. Dana took another shower, very hot, and tried to bundle herself in a blanket. She didn't want to raise the warmth in the room too much, out of fear of harming the axolotls.
The Cygnus-16 event had left thirty families in need of notification. Dana was going through the final manifest, trying to account for the accident when someone from the infirmary came to her quarters.
This was several hours after mid-meal. The Shipping authority doctor (or was it just a nurse? It wasn't anyone she recognized) took a temp-reading and a throat swab. He nodded gravely, said it was a sinus infection, and left several more vitamin-C packets behind. He did not give Dana any more antihistamines or fever reducers.
“It it's an infection,” she asked, “shouldn't there be some antibiotics or antivirals?”
“You'll burn through it,” he said. “It's nothing to worry about.”
Shortly after the doctor left, the shakes started. Dana was sure she was just shivering, but it made it difficult to complete her work. She delegated the remainder to an underling, took another hot shower, and went to bed.
Sleep did not come easily.
