Medical anomalies, human conditions [Mira, McCoy; closed]
There was no excuse. For Mira, there was no explanation for what had just happened. One moment she was glancing over notes she'd been working on to help perfect the fuel for the rockets, and thinking about what a primitive technology it was (but a necessary primitive precaution), and then the next she was surrounded by a group of science division officers.
Rockets were rarely used, what with warp and impulse travel, but they were kept in case of emergency to help escape planetary orbit- a useful tool that could be needed in future missions. The only advantage was how easily available the materials were to help fuel them. They were just so... basic. Give her Pergium, or even some electro-plasma and she could do so much more. So, she started working on her methods to advance the process.
The hydrogen fluoride container sat safely on the counter she was leaning against. Working diligently, she focused on her notes, blocking out the usual buzzing and beeps of the laboratory. Okay, maybe she was a tiny bit distracted by the results from the basic metabolic panel she ran earlier- switching back and forth, she was multitasking. Other scientists filtered in and out of her work space, taking what they needed without interrupting her. She turned to the side; it wasn't even an abrupt or exaggerated movement. Her elbow went back, tipping a large beaker over- which she knew was not there a moment ago. She would soon figure out that it was only filled with water. The problem with that was, the beaker not only turned over, but it knocked into the hydrogen fluoride container. Any chemist would know that when the gas comes in contact with water it creates hydrofluoric acid.
The compound spilled across the counter, splashing onto her left wrist and forearm. Eyes and heads instantly turned at the commotion. Science officers nearby stopped to gather around her, voicing concern.
"I'm fine," Mira assured everyone, feeling smothered. She was already boxed in.
"Lieutenant Romaine, you should go to Sickbay right away," a panicked voice spoke up.
"No," she answered a little too quickly, "It's fine, really. Hydrofluoric is a weak acid. I'll just go wash it off."
"Yeah, but how concentrated was it?" another science officer asked.
Mira hesitated. She knew that there had been a standard amount of hydrogen fluoride in the container, but was unaware of how much water was in the beaker. It seemed large enough to dilute most of the acidity. "Low, I'm assuming," she finally said. "It's not burning, so I'll be fine."
"Maybe you should just have them check, in case," a female officer urged.
She groaned. Her attention was on the mess she'd created, not the mild contact on her skin- actually she was trying to forget what had just happened. It was an embarrassing accident. "I can take care of it myself. Let's just focus on getting this cleaned up, okay?"
One of the scientists that spoke earlier chimed in again, "What's the matter, Romaine? Are you afraid of the doctors or something?"
Mira let out an airy laugh, shaking her head. "No. Just a doctor." That very thought occurred to her the moment the infirmary was mentioned. She envisioned a certain Chief Medical Officer's face when she entered his department with an injury, and it wasn't a look of concern.
"I'm contacting the medical bay," the female officer said, ignoring the lieutenant's firm protests. She moved toward the communicator panel and spoke into it, "Chemistry Lab to Sickbay, we're sending Lieutenant Romaine down there. Be sure she arrives."
"Looks like I have little choice in the matter then," Mira muttered to herself. Grudgingly, she stepped away from the group and exited the laboratory.
It didn't take long to reach the medbay. Just as she arrived, and the doors slid behind her, a slight stinging sensation pricked at her wrist. Now it burned. Her first instinct was to rub it, but she refrained from touching it until someone took a look at it. Hopefully a nurse would be enough, and she could be in and out before McCoy found her.
Rockets were rarely used, what with warp and impulse travel, but they were kept in case of emergency to help escape planetary orbit- a useful tool that could be needed in future missions. The only advantage was how easily available the materials were to help fuel them. They were just so... basic. Give her Pergium, or even some electro-plasma and she could do so much more. So, she started working on her methods to advance the process.
The hydrogen fluoride container sat safely on the counter she was leaning against. Working diligently, she focused on her notes, blocking out the usual buzzing and beeps of the laboratory. Okay, maybe she was a tiny bit distracted by the results from the basic metabolic panel she ran earlier- switching back and forth, she was multitasking. Other scientists filtered in and out of her work space, taking what they needed without interrupting her. She turned to the side; it wasn't even an abrupt or exaggerated movement. Her elbow went back, tipping a large beaker over- which she knew was not there a moment ago. She would soon figure out that it was only filled with water. The problem with that was, the beaker not only turned over, but it knocked into the hydrogen fluoride container. Any chemist would know that when the gas comes in contact with water it creates hydrofluoric acid.
The compound spilled across the counter, splashing onto her left wrist and forearm. Eyes and heads instantly turned at the commotion. Science officers nearby stopped to gather around her, voicing concern.
"I'm fine," Mira assured everyone, feeling smothered. She was already boxed in.
"Lieutenant Romaine, you should go to Sickbay right away," a panicked voice spoke up.
"No," she answered a little too quickly, "It's fine, really. Hydrofluoric is a weak acid. I'll just go wash it off."
"Yeah, but how concentrated was it?" another science officer asked.
Mira hesitated. She knew that there had been a standard amount of hydrogen fluoride in the container, but was unaware of how much water was in the beaker. It seemed large enough to dilute most of the acidity. "Low, I'm assuming," she finally said. "It's not burning, so I'll be fine."
"Maybe you should just have them check, in case," a female officer urged.
She groaned. Her attention was on the mess she'd created, not the mild contact on her skin- actually she was trying to forget what had just happened. It was an embarrassing accident. "I can take care of it myself. Let's just focus on getting this cleaned up, okay?"
One of the scientists that spoke earlier chimed in again, "What's the matter, Romaine? Are you afraid of the doctors or something?"
Mira let out an airy laugh, shaking her head. "No. Just a doctor." That very thought occurred to her the moment the infirmary was mentioned. She envisioned a certain Chief Medical Officer's face when she entered his department with an injury, and it wasn't a look of concern.
"I'm contacting the medical bay," the female officer said, ignoring the lieutenant's firm protests. She moved toward the communicator panel and spoke into it, "Chemistry Lab to Sickbay, we're sending Lieutenant Romaine down there. Be sure she arrives."
"Looks like I have little choice in the matter then," Mira muttered to herself. Grudgingly, she stepped away from the group and exited the laboratory.
It didn't take long to reach the medbay. Just as she arrived, and the doors slid behind her, a slight stinging sensation pricked at her wrist. Now it burned. Her first instinct was to rub it, but she refrained from touching it until someone took a look at it. Hopefully a nurse would be enough, and she could be in and out before McCoy found her.