Chapter Seven: Drastic Treatment
When the team of medics arrived moments later, Bashir supervised as they loaded Trystmar onto the stretcher, and walked beside him back to the infirmary.
There Trystmar was transferred to a biobed, and Bashir quickly activated the entire array of monitoring equipment. He removed the mask of the portable respirator, replacing it with a nasal breathing tube, more as a precaution than because Trystmar currently needed the additional oxygen.
"So hot…." Trystmar murmured, moving his head restlessly as Bashir deftly inserted an iv line.
Bashir rested a hand on Trystmar's forehead. "I wish I could reduce your fever for you," he said regretfully. "But fever is part of your body's immune response, and that needs to be as strong as possible for this to work; I can only bring your temperature down medically if it reaches dangerous levels." He activated a cool gel pack and laid it on Trystmar's forehead. "That should make you a little more comfortable, and I can give you something to help you rest." He injected the hypospray, and Trystmar sighed and drifted into a fitful sleep.
oOo
The next day Bashir stood in his office staring at the readouts from the monitoring equipment, frowning deeply in thought. All the signs indicated it was time to take the blood that would provide the serum to treat Shan, and yet he wondered if Trystmar was strong enough to stand it. He still required regular medication for a recurring cardiac arrhythmia; would his heart be able to stand the strain of blood loss?
And yet if he did not take the blood, or if he delayed too long, there was no point to any of this, and he had caused Trystmar's suffering for nothing. Perhaps if he transfused fresh blood simultaneously, the shock would not be too great…
His mind made up, Bashir turned and strode purposefully from the room to begin giving orders to his medical team.
He showed no sign in his manner of his indecision and doubts; to his nurse Enorra he seemed as confident in his treatment as ever. And so, while she thought silently that it seemed a bit drastic, she didn't question the doctor's orders. She knew nothing of this syndrome, little indeed about Trill, and trusted simply that Bashir would give the correct and appropriate treatment.
oOo
Bashir stood at Trystmar's bedside holding the syringe of serum he had developed from Trystmar's blood, simply staring at it and thinking.
He hesitated longer over injecting it than he had over injecting live virus into Trystmar; not because the danger was greater, but because he was at last fully admitting to himself how great the danger was. The virus was all through the symbiont, but it caused no illness or immune response because it was no threat. To inject Trystmar's white blood cells and antibodies would hopefully jumpstart an immune response — but despite being joined they were still foreign to Shan; was it an immune response he could survive?
It was not too late to abort the treatment; to tell Trystmar when he recovered that it had been too dangerous and the next hosts would have to be vaccinated.
But that would mean all Trystmar's suffering had been for nothing, and Bashir was still certain he could effect a full cure.
Trystmar was already sedated; setting his jaw, Bashir inserted the needle deep into his abdomen, into the umbilical that supplied Shan with nutrients from Trystmar's body, and pressed the plunger down.
Next chapter coming next week!
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