Disclaimer: I own no recognizable characters. Drinking hydrogen peroxide will, however, make you puke.
Inventory:
Aspirin
Tylenol
Advil
Diphenhydramine
Silver Sulfadiazine
Rubbing Alcohol
Eyewash
Betadine Scrub
Imodium
Latex Gloves, non-powdered
Suture
Telfa pads
Epinephrine
. . . and syringes. He needed to stock up on syringes. Hydrogen peroxide too; it wasn't the greatest to clean a wound, but if someone needed an emetic . . . that was definitely the way to go. As he recalled, he used the last of the bottle on himself when Murdock decided the newest way to flavor a steak was with some pretty green granules of rat poison he'd found.
That was hell. The dry heaves for almost half an hour afterward were the worst. Okay, having to track down Vitamin K and take that faithfully for a month afterward was the worst. Okay, having to get blood work done regularly to make sure he wasn't having anticoagulation issues—that was the worst.
Murdock never used warfarin for seasoning again.
Face sighed. Murdock's medications. That was next on his agenda, and it made his head hurt. He wasn't a doctor! He wasn't a pharmacist! He was a conman, a ladies' man, and a pretty fine soldier. Somehow that translated into him being in charge the emergency medications that the team might need, which of course led into him being in charge of the slew of medications their pilot was on.
That wasn't totally fair. Murdock did a fair job keeping track of what was needed and when he had to take it. When something was off, however, that's when Face had to step in, and with a Physician's Desk Reference and Hannibal's help, try to tweak things to get everything back to as close to normal as possible.
He sighed again and tapped his pencil on the pad of paper in front of him. Below the first list, he added syringes. He turned the page and skimmed through the information there:
Inventory (H.M. Murdock)
Flouxetine Duloxetine Venlafaxine Pregablin Imipramine Clorazepate -
The list of medications on that page swam before his eyes. The names made no sense; there were no sub-groupings of "anti-psychotics", "anti-depressants", "uppers", or anything else that might have made this list any easier for Face to understand. He did understand the notes made beside the medications in his own and occasionally Murdock's cramped writing:
. . . makes me too twitchy
. . . causes auditory hallucinations
. . . complaints of sand in his mouth
. . . like being on a Tilt-a-Whirl. Plus, I yawn too much. Bugs could get in!
. . . vertigo. So not good for a pilot, Faceman!
. . . STOP THIS ONE—HE'S GONE THE WRONG WAY WITH THE ANXIETY
. . . anorexia and nausea. He lost 12 pounds
and so on.
Every medication had its notations beside it. None was perfect. A combination of things worked the best, but occasionally if Murdock didn't take that one with food or was several hours late with that one, the whole system was blown and it could take days to get him back. It could take weeks to get him back; that was particularly unpleasant.
Face rubbed his eyes. He should be grateful that Murdock was willing to take this stuff voluntarily. With his research, he discovered some that needed to be given by injection, and he didn't know if he were up to something like that.
No complaints from Murdock about any sexual dysfunction issues either. Thank heaven for small favors. Murdock was pretty astute when it came to his pills, too; finding a rhombus-shaped blue one in his pile one morning, he held it up curiously and read from it,
"Pfizer. VGR 50. This isn't mine."
In a rare instance of discomposure, Hannibal snatched it away. Its presence was never satisfactorily explained, but it never showed up again.
Small favors? Face could kiss the Pope that he wasn't required to handle the Colonel's meds too.
Which reminded him . . . he flipped back to the first page and entered:
Diazepam
For B.A., of course. They'd summarily dismissed the Xanax because it was a pill, and Klonopin because it was a pill and somehow made B.A. more upset. At least the valium was relatively easy to get, and everyone else including Murdock could take it too if they were in a pinch.
He felt like he could use a tranq right now, having to muddle through this stuff. Once more Face sighed. Anyone finding this booklet would think this team was a bunch of accident-prone, paranoid nuts.
Which was a little true. But Face wouldn't have it any other way. He wrote one last item on the page, for him especially, which he only took on special occasions—like when he had to do inventory.
Unisom
