Title: The Wish
Author: Anna
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine. *sob*
Category: Short! Drabble-ish. ^_^ Because I feel like it.
Author's Notes: Just a shortstop. Fun, it's not the usual angst. McCoy point-of-view. Enjoy!
The Wish
Personal Log: Stardate, oh forget it. It's not important.
He's been sick all week. Blamed stubborn man that he is, he won't come down for five minutes to sick bay and let me look at him. I could probably get rid of the whole problem with one shot. But no. It's the usual every time I talk to him! Not now, Doctor, I'm busy. Can it wait, Doctor? I'll handle it later, Doctor McCoy. Ugh. That man is going to work himself into an early grave.
He's looking greener than usual. If he doesn't do something about it, I'm going to demand Jim order him to sickbay. And if I'm feeling particularly evil, I'll have Jim order him to three days bed rest. Ha! Wonders of wonders, it would be the miracle of all time to get that green- blooded Vulcan to actually take a break. It's been worse the last two weeks because of the new planet we came across. He's been cataloging, recording, scanning, and re-scanning into all hours of the night. He doesn't get enough sleep, he's not eating right, and as his physician he's driving me crazy!
They put me on this ship to do a job, and I do the very best I can. I'm only human, for pity's sake! It's not my fault all the head crewmen of the Enterprise have stubborn personalities! But, to be perfectly honest, I'm really worried about him. It's not like Vulcans catch a cold like humans do. They just don't have the immunities to fight what he's got. Or at least fight what I think he's got. It's hard to diagnose a patient several decks away from you. I know I've been accused of spending more time on the deck than I do down here in sickbay. They're right whoever said it. The bridge crew does their job up there, and that's where most of my job has to be done. On this ship, the patient doesn't come to you; you go to the patient. Of course, nobody in Starfleet warned the medical students about making house calls all the time. Or would those be considered deck calls?
I just don't know what I'm going to do with him. He'll just get ticked –and don't think he doesn't, he may act like he doesn't, but he does- if I order him down here and he'll drop dead if I don't. Jim's like that to. Wait until death asks you to waltz before you do anything about it. And reckless! Both of them thrive on recklessness I swear it!
Well, there you go. What did I tell you? I just got the call from Jim sounding slightly frantic on the planet. Spock collapsed on the away mission. You can't say I didn't warn him. Just once I wish that man –either one- would listen to me. They'll beam back up, rush him hear, I'll clear it up in half an hour and it'll be something I could have prevented all along. He'll get better, and life will be calm for awhile. And then it will all start again. One of them will get sick and drive me up the wall trying to do something about it.
I guess I really wouldn't have it any other way.
End log.
Author: Anna
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine. *sob*
Category: Short! Drabble-ish. ^_^ Because I feel like it.
Author's Notes: Just a shortstop. Fun, it's not the usual angst. McCoy point-of-view. Enjoy!
The Wish
Personal Log: Stardate, oh forget it. It's not important.
He's been sick all week. Blamed stubborn man that he is, he won't come down for five minutes to sick bay and let me look at him. I could probably get rid of the whole problem with one shot. But no. It's the usual every time I talk to him! Not now, Doctor, I'm busy. Can it wait, Doctor? I'll handle it later, Doctor McCoy. Ugh. That man is going to work himself into an early grave.
He's looking greener than usual. If he doesn't do something about it, I'm going to demand Jim order him to sickbay. And if I'm feeling particularly evil, I'll have Jim order him to three days bed rest. Ha! Wonders of wonders, it would be the miracle of all time to get that green- blooded Vulcan to actually take a break. It's been worse the last two weeks because of the new planet we came across. He's been cataloging, recording, scanning, and re-scanning into all hours of the night. He doesn't get enough sleep, he's not eating right, and as his physician he's driving me crazy!
They put me on this ship to do a job, and I do the very best I can. I'm only human, for pity's sake! It's not my fault all the head crewmen of the Enterprise have stubborn personalities! But, to be perfectly honest, I'm really worried about him. It's not like Vulcans catch a cold like humans do. They just don't have the immunities to fight what he's got. Or at least fight what I think he's got. It's hard to diagnose a patient several decks away from you. I know I've been accused of spending more time on the deck than I do down here in sickbay. They're right whoever said it. The bridge crew does their job up there, and that's where most of my job has to be done. On this ship, the patient doesn't come to you; you go to the patient. Of course, nobody in Starfleet warned the medical students about making house calls all the time. Or would those be considered deck calls?
I just don't know what I'm going to do with him. He'll just get ticked –and don't think he doesn't, he may act like he doesn't, but he does- if I order him down here and he'll drop dead if I don't. Jim's like that to. Wait until death asks you to waltz before you do anything about it. And reckless! Both of them thrive on recklessness I swear it!
Well, there you go. What did I tell you? I just got the call from Jim sounding slightly frantic on the planet. Spock collapsed on the away mission. You can't say I didn't warn him. Just once I wish that man –either one- would listen to me. They'll beam back up, rush him hear, I'll clear it up in half an hour and it'll be something I could have prevented all along. He'll get better, and life will be calm for awhile. And then it will all start again. One of them will get sick and drive me up the wall trying to do something about it.
I guess I really wouldn't have it any other way.
End log.