... To help you sleep...

Posted on Fri Aug 7th, 2020 @ 2:37pm by Lieutenant Scott Hayes & Captain Michael Meezo

Mission: In The Beginning...
Location: USS Wayfarer
Timeline: Present

:ON:

{Captain’s Ready Room}

The computer spoke aloud, bringing Mike back into the room and away from his thoughts; “The time is 2130 hours.”

The man leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes tiredly. It had been a long day, but a fruitful one. He had met most of his senior staff, and also dozens of other crew members that would be serving on the Wayfarer. His XO had proved to be somewhat of a pain in the ass, but his service record was too impressive to simply ignore. He would give Commander Sito time.

His head throbbed with pain. A mixture of fatigue, stress and caffeine. He finally relented and decided perhaps a trip to sickbay might be in order. He needed a good restful sleep before the Wayfarer’s launch in the morning.

{Sickbay}

Meezo walked into the infirmary and looked around. There didn’t seem to be anyone around, not even a nurse. “Computer, activate EMH programme.” He called out aloud.

The emergency medical hologram appeared in the centre of the room almost immediately. It turned to face the Captain, “Please state the nature of the medical emergency.”

Before Mike could speak, Scott Hayes came out of the CMO’s office. He was obviously burning the midnight oil as it was nearly 2200 hours by now.

"Captain," Scott said, only half surprised before returning to the EMH, "Sorry, you aren't needed, for now, please feel free to deactivate yourself." Scott was rubbing his eyes; it had been a long day of medicals and continuing to pour over records of those who were still to report in. "How can I help you?" he asked, returning his gaze to the Captain, not that he already didn't have half an idea what he could be down for.

“It feels like my brain is going to explode,” the Commanding Officer spoke gesturing towards the side of his head, “it started this morning and its just gotten worse as the day has gone on. I’ll be honest, I was considering taking some Romulan whiskey to help me sleep, but I didn’t want to be fuzzy headed for tomorrow’s launch.” he took a seat on one of the bio-beds, “is there anything you can give me to help me sleep and get rid of the headache?”

"Let me guess, it started around the time all those PADDs started mounting up on your desk that I saw when I came to report in?" Scott gave a wry smile and cocked an eyebrow. "Take a seat on one of the beds and I will be back in a second," he wandered off to collect his medical tricorder, a PADD and one of the 'treatment trollies' he was working on putting together that would sit beside each biobed. "And, yes, Romulan whisky would not be the best idea, you would wake up feeling worse I bet. I'm also going to ignore the fact you have any since you are the Captain and all. Diplomatic reasons to keep such, potent, alcohol on board."

“It was a parting gift from my Commanding Officer on the Lexington,” Mike explained as the CMO went to work, “He told me that a CO of a ship should never be without one in his quarters. Only for diplomatic reasons of course, as you’ve already said.” The corners of his lips turned up to a smile.

Taking the small hand scanner, Scott began to move it around the Captain's head, "Yup, definite tension build-up, particularly around the eyes. I swear, Starfleet could learn a thing from regular pen and paper sometimes. Too much screen time isn't good for anyone." He went to his PADD to take notes and look up the appropriate medications and doses for this particular ailment. "If you wouldn't mind, since you are here, Captain, I can carry out the rest of your medical? Saves you another trip and it will be over in a few seconds." He also went to start preparing to hyposprays from the small trolly he brought over.

Meezo nodded, “Of course, Doc. I know how important it is to keep these things updated.” He took off the top layer of his uniform tunic and lay down properly on the bio-bed. “The CMO on the Lexington was really old-school when it came to medicals,” Mike began to reminisce, “If you didn’t attend when required, she’d chase you down the corridors with a sedative until you agreed to go to sickbay! It wasn’t worth the bother not attending.”

"She and I come from the same school of thought on that one then, although I prefer not to use the sedative, there is something to be said for dragging someone by the collar," he laughed as he picked up both sprays, "This one is for the pain and you should feel almost instant relief and will help ease the other symptoms," Scott nodded to one spray in his hands as it went to the Captain's neck. "This other one," he nodded again, "I am going to trust to give to you and return it when you are done. It is quite a potent sleep aide and quite fast-acting. I don't think you want to sleep in sickbay, so take it when you go back to your quarters, that as the doctor, I order you to go to when we are done. It should provide a full eight hours of deep sleep."

Mike felt the tension in his head already easing, and the anxiety he had carried around all day was fading away quickly.

Scott then returned to his hand scanner, "Now for the rest, it will be over shortly. But no other causes for concern just now? Any family history I should be made aware of?"

“My father once suffered with Klingon flu, and my maternal grandmother died of Darney’s Disease.” Mike frowned, trying his best to remember if there was anything else worth mentioning. “But otherwise I think I’m fine.”

"To which my scans would agree," Scott smiled, "a picture of health Captain, well other than what we discussed." He put his scanner away to allow the Captain to sit up, "Ship launches are always stressful times, especially for those in command, but promise me," he was waving the hypospray in his hands, "you will do something for yourself over the next few days. A stressed-out Captain is no good for anyone. And, as nice as this has been, and I say this kindly and with respect, I don't want to see you back here for a while." Scott offered over the much-needed sleep aid.

The Captain agreed with a sharp nod, “Who am I to argue with the Chief Medical Officer of the Wayfarer.” he winked and took the sleep-inducing hypospray from Scott’s hand. “Thanks for your help, Doc. See you in the morning during the mission briefing.”

"I shall see you there," Scott replied as he went to put away his own stack of PADDs and consider what he would do for himself that night, it would either be heading to his favourite place, the gym, or his other favourite place, the bar.

:OFF:

Captain Michael Meezo
Commanding Officer
USS Wayfarer, NCC-72113

&

Lt. Scott Hayes
Chief Medical Officer
USS Wayfarer, NCC-72113