Ready"
By: Dr. James McIntyre
, Doctor
, [NPC]
Maxine Lucinda Tapert, Computer Specialist, [PC]
Stardate: 58208.13 0800
He narrowed his choices down. From what he knew of Schatchy syndrome, it was not unlike Iresine Syndrome where instead of the electropathic residue that was characteristic of that malady, Maxine was faced with the carbonizing of the tissue matter surrounding her electrodes.
The ability to regenerate of nervous tissue of this type, even in this day and age was still was still only marginally successful.
There were two treatment options that appealed to McIntyre. The first treatment would likely have longer lasting results and be more permanent. It would require a full surgical unit and Doctor Dane would have to make the decision.
The second treatment would help reduce the damage and improve the efficiency of her implants. Aside from the fact that the day was also Friday the 13th, customarily a day regarded as a day of bad luck by humans who lived on earth a long time ago, this treatment would allow her to resume her normal activities immediately.
She could schedule the other procedure at a future date.
He nodded confidently. That AI program, despite is silliness, was very efficient at sorting and categorizing the material. He smiled as he approached Maxine's bio bed.
He began a tricorder scan on his sleeping patient.
Maxine's eyes suddenly snapped open and she looked up at McIntyre. A frown marred her forehead as a slight disorientation took hold of her and she tried to remember where she was. She started to say hello, but it came out as more of a soft grunt of acknowledgment.
"Good morning," he replied.
That answered one question. "'ow long 'ave I been 'ere?" she finally managed to ask.
"About 12 hours. How do you feel?"
"'orrible," she answered. "Like I've been trampled by a 'erd of Targs."
"Well," smiled McIntyre as he clicked off the tricorder's scanner and studied the results, "you are going to be alright. Do you remember anything from the night before?"
Maxine blinked. "I... Uhh... A little..." she admitted after thinking about it for several moments. Straining to think about it rather. "It makes my 'ead 'urt to think about it," she added. "
"Don't push it. Just tell me the last thing you remember."
"A cat and a naked pixie," she told him. "I think. I might 'ave dreamed it...." she hoped. "What's wrong with me?"
"You have the early stages of a condition known as Schatchy syndrome. I'm Sure you have heard of it as it only happens to implant users."
Max frowned. "Aye... I've 'eard of it. Can you fix it?"
"Well, manage it at least," said McIntyre, "Didn't your Doctor tell you that the implants required a maintenance schedule?"
"But... I've kept up the maintenance. Dr. Dane checked out my implant when I came onboard..." Max told him.
"Even so," said McIntyre, "we're okay so long as you don't start hallucinating."
"Doc... I saw a naked pixie and a kitty cat...." she reminded him.
McIntyre raised an eyebrow, "hmmm... there is that," he nodded as he considered that the other possible occupants could have been Krystal and the felinoid patient asleep at the other end.
"We won't worry about that right now, if you are are ready, we can get started."
"Aye." Max didn't even try to nod. "As ready as m'gonna be," she told him. "Will it 'urt?" she asked. "Or make the 'eadache worse?"
"No, it should help immediately."
"Thank goodness," Max breathed a sigh of relief. "Let's do it then.."
"Okay, come with me," said McIntyre.