Fitch peeled the rest of the thigh dressing off, and produced a roll of soft cotton and clean dressing from his bag. He whistled an off key sailors tune as he spread some salve on the wound, covered it with the new dressing, and wrapped the whole upper thigh with the roll of cloth. "Keep that clean, if you wish to bathe later, let me know and I"ll make sure the water is fresh and replace the dressing again afterwards. Now, how's that shoulder feel?"
Cerryn responded with a shrug that sent new twinges of pain through her shoulder.
Captain Fitch eyed the puckered scar tissue where Randir had healed her. "Yeah, I can see that it'll hurt for a while, but... Your companion is a talented healer, I know of few pure healers who could have tended that one as thoroughly as he seems to have, even without the shadow wound." His eyes closed as he ran his fingers across the scar. "I did a little reading last night, found a reference to shadow knives in an old text. According to that text, You're probably the first person who has survived such a deep wound from one, I'd say that had your friend not done whatever he did, you wouldn't have lasted the night."
The above section was part of what I worked on (and reworked some of) earlier this week. I actually managed to put together a couple of thousand words during breaks at work this week. Some of it feels pretty good, some is easily recognized as low-grade dreck from work. I believe I've commented before on how I can tell what's written at work, and what's written when I'm at home and actually "in the writing mode". It may be getting harder to tell th difference. (or I'm getting less perceptive). We'll see...
Speaking of we'll see, my opthamalogist has recognized that my left eye is developing a cataract. I hadn't noticed any problems until she pointed it out, now I realize that for the last couple of months, at times I felt like I was looking through a dirty window with my left eye. I'd put it aside as side effects of allergies. I've spoken with the regional flight surgeon, and have come to the nervous decision to deal with it as soon as practical. The surgery, considered routine, gives me the willies...
It gives me the willies because of something I faced 23ish years ago. I'd been working at Denver Instruments, where I worked on soldering parts to electronic instrument circuit boards all day. One Friday after work, I took my paycheck to the bank, where they were laying new carpet. My eyes started burning shortly after getting home from work. Apparently (as explained by the ER doctor later that day), the fumes that my contact lenses absorbed every day from work interacted with the carpet cement fumes to create an acid of some sort, that etched my eyes under my contacts. I spent the next 4 or 5 days with patches on my eyes, completely dependant on my girlfriend for everything, waiting to find out about any permament damage. Not having any vision for that time (and the corresponding worry) has made me very sensitive about my eyes. (I still remember listening to the superbowl on tv that weekend as Craig Morton and the broncos got slaughtered. Needless to say, I'm a bit nervous about having the cataract surgery (as described by the opthamalogist, they make a hole in the side of your lens, stick an instrument in, and scramble/liquify your lens with ultrasonic waves. They then replace it with a permament contact lens-like implant that will give me perfect vision in that eye.) I was okay until he mentioned "they make a hole in the side of your lens. <<<Shudder>>>
Anyway, I've another doc visit next week, to further examine the problem and discuss options. In the meantime, as Red Green would say,
"Keep your stick on the ice"...
Jim
Cerryn responded with a shrug that sent new twinges of pain through her shoulder.
Captain Fitch eyed the puckered scar tissue where Randir had healed her. "Yeah, I can see that it'll hurt for a while, but... Your companion is a talented healer, I know of few pure healers who could have tended that one as thoroughly as he seems to have, even without the shadow wound." His eyes closed as he ran his fingers across the scar. "I did a little reading last night, found a reference to shadow knives in an old text. According to that text, You're probably the first person who has survived such a deep wound from one, I'd say that had your friend not done whatever he did, you wouldn't have lasted the night."
The above section was part of what I worked on (and reworked some of) earlier this week. I actually managed to put together a couple of thousand words during breaks at work this week. Some of it feels pretty good, some is easily recognized as low-grade dreck from work. I believe I've commented before on how I can tell what's written at work, and what's written when I'm at home and actually "in the writing mode". It may be getting harder to tell th difference. (or I'm getting less perceptive). We'll see...
Speaking of we'll see, my opthamalogist has recognized that my left eye is developing a cataract. I hadn't noticed any problems until she pointed it out, now I realize that for the last couple of months, at times I felt like I was looking through a dirty window with my left eye. I'd put it aside as side effects of allergies. I've spoken with the regional flight surgeon, and have come to the nervous decision to deal with it as soon as practical. The surgery, considered routine, gives me the willies...
It gives me the willies because of something I faced 23ish years ago. I'd been working at Denver Instruments, where I worked on soldering parts to electronic instrument circuit boards all day. One Friday after work, I took my paycheck to the bank, where they were laying new carpet. My eyes started burning shortly after getting home from work. Apparently (as explained by the ER doctor later that day), the fumes that my contact lenses absorbed every day from work interacted with the carpet cement fumes to create an acid of some sort, that etched my eyes under my contacts. I spent the next 4 or 5 days with patches on my eyes, completely dependant on my girlfriend for everything, waiting to find out about any permament damage. Not having any vision for that time (and the corresponding worry) has made me very sensitive about my eyes. (I still remember listening to the superbowl on tv that weekend as Craig Morton and the broncos got slaughtered. Needless to say, I'm a bit nervous about having the cataract surgery (as described by the opthamalogist, they make a hole in the side of your lens, stick an instrument in, and scramble/liquify your lens with ultrasonic waves. They then replace it with a permament contact lens-like implant that will give me perfect vision in that eye.) I was okay until he mentioned "they make a hole in the side of your lens. <<<Shudder>>>
Anyway, I've another doc visit next week, to further examine the problem and discuss options. In the meantime, as Red Green would say,
"Keep your stick on the ice"...
Jim
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