One Step Forward Then Fall Back (Part 1)

Duty and Personal Logs from the Daystrom Crew

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One Step Forward Then Fall Back (Part 1)

Postby Cdr Gail Ranau » Sat Feb 10, 2007 10:08 pm

“How can someone so perky be such a sadist at the same time?” Gail scoffed at the retreating back of her physical therapist, stumbling a little as she adjusted to the new pace set for her on her treadmill. T3 (or better known as Terrible Tiffany Tanner - Gail’s nickname for the perky blond devil in a blue tunic) either had selective hearing problems or was too busy checking on another victim to notice Gail’s snarl of discontent. She glanced down at the chuckling man leaning against the support arm of her treadmill. “You can be replaced, you know?” Gail swung her attention to her much-amused attending physician to comment on his lack of moral support. “I know the XO. She and I are like this.” Gail crossed her fingers together….her middle fingers.

Dr Justin Paine appraised Tiffany’s assets for a moment then glanced up at his friend and patient. “Go ahead. But you know the Major isn’t going let you get away with half that crap you try to pull with me.” He watched XO exhale heavily to push the damp strands of hair out of her face. “How you feeling anyway?”

Gail reached for the support arm to steady herself, flashing an embarrassed grin as she did so. “Sometimes I feel like I’m at 150% and at other times…I feel like I should retire to the old folks home at ripe ol' age of thirty-four.”  She swiped at her forehead to head off the sweat bead threatening her right eye. “And we’re not talkin’ days here, try over a span of hours.” She gingerly lifted her hands from the support bar. She seemed surprised that she’d stayed steady on her feet this time. “My hand/eye…oh heck, no, let’s say…my head/body coordination sucks sometimes, I have selective-memory disorder, and there are times when I feel like I’ve got a freight train running through my brain via those tunnels we call ears.”

“You’re actually doing remarkably well, Gail. But you know that this is going to take some time to make a complete—“

“I knooooooooow that,” the Commander interrupted Paine. “I’m no dummy. I’m just frustrated. And lemme tell ya, T3 ain’t helpin’ my morale."

"Awh, she looks so sweet and perky. Tiff has been very friendly in sickbay. Everybody just loves her. You're just annoyed she's making you work so hard after Dr Vorst. She can't possibly as bad as you think." Justin turned to admire the new Physical Therapist's assets again.

"Darlin' ya ain't her patient. You don't know the hell she's puttin' us through. And this is hell that I'm getting rather tired of..." Gail punched the button her treadmill, stopping the forward motion. "Very sick." She leaned heavily on the support bar, taking large calming breaths.

"You okay?" Justin reached out to steady Gail with a hand on her arm, watching her close her eyes. "You're not going to pass out on me, are you?" He fidgeted for a moment, then moved to help her down, glancing around for Tanner. Gail shook him off.

"I'm fine. I just can't think, talk and walk at the same time. It's a skill I'm still trying to re-master. I'll be all right in a moment." She brought her head up. A smile flickered for a moment on her face before fading, never really reaching her eyes.

"If you feel like you're gonna get sick..."

"I'm not that kinda sick," Gail sighed, staring off into space over Tiffany's head.

"So what's wrong?" Justin's whole body tensed as he waited for his friend to pass out.

Gail's attention was rooted in the wall across the room for a moment, then she tossed her head as if shaking off a thought. She turned her gaze back to Dr Paine, "Confidentially speaking?" She waited until Justin nodded his head. "In lieu of the vacancy in the counselor position, you know anyone in Med that can talk to my husband?"

"Uh," Justin looked uncomfortable for a moment. "I don't know ma'am." Gail thwapped him over the head with her sweaty towel. "Ow, quit that." He glanced up at Commander Ranau. The light was back in her eyes, but she had a clearly annoyed expression on her face. "I'm guessing you need a Counselor and we don't have one at the moment?"

"Duh."

"What about the Major?"

"The Major is a Marine." Gail gave him a knowing look. "She's my last hope. If'n Plan B, C and D don't work...then I'm going to Plan M 'Suck it up, Son,' talk. Anybody else?"

"Dr Moonflower?"

"Yeah, he might work," Gail stood there again, chewing on her thumbnail, apparently lost in thought. "I'll go talk to him after shift." She tossed her head again, then punched the button on the treadmill. The track started moving, Gail carefully keeping pace with the machine. "Thanks."

"No problem. But I didn't do anything?"

"You listened. I appreciate that. Honestly. I'm glad that someone is."

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Not real--"

She was interrupted by T3's pesky appearance. "Hello campers! Time to switch speeds." Tiffany Tanner punched buttons on Gail's treadmill as the Commander watched.

Gail was doing well to keep pace, until the machine lurched into a higher speed. Gail missed a step, fell to one knee, then shot backwards into someone tall, muscular and solid. The back of her head smacked into something hard with a distinctive crunch while arms of steel grabbed her from behind. She glanced down to see a drop of blood splatter on her forearm. Her first thought was, Oh gawd, I'm bleeding. Again!Then she glanced up to see who'd grabbed her. Jor-El Ranau's angry and fear-filled face, complete with blood gushing nose, stared back down at her. Oh gawd, this isn't good. Gail smiled meekly up at her husband.

"Uh....Hi sugah. How's your day?"
"Humor bridges the gap between the perfection we seek and the imperfections we are stuck with."

Image
Cdr Gail Ranau
 
Posts: 32
Joined: Tue Aug 31, 2004 9:40 pm
Location: USS Daystrom

Postby Cdr Gail Ranau » Tue Oct 16, 2007 10:30 pm

Part 2 delayed, sorry folks.
"Humor bridges the gap between the perfection we seek and the imperfections we are stuck with."

Image
Cdr Gail Ranau
 
Posts: 32
Joined: Tue Aug 31, 2004 9:40 pm
Location: USS Daystrom


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