Author's Note: Well, chapter 2 is now up, sorry that it's taking so long to get these posted. I'll try to post more consistently. So…please read.
Duty & Dignity Chapter 2
The "Lydia" was just recently brought about and the twittering pipes of the boson's mates could be heard from below the gun deck. Days of wallowing in the misery of being helpless and being of no productivity had led Hornblower to near insanity. Along with the pain of his now crippled legs his chest felt as though a constant fire was lit and his rate of breathing was slowly declining. The twitter of pipes and the thought of being on the deck made the confinement of sickbay resemble that of an addict and his absence of whiskey.
The ship had been beaten up pretty good, the water-pumps were at constant work through day and night. Midshipmen were at a low stock due to the recent battle and those that were left took shifts with the bosun's mates and other crewmembers to unceasingly pump the water out of the slowly sinking ship. Two crewmembers were already in sickbay from injuries due to the relentless stress heaped upon their shoulders, literally. Hornblower could hear the necessary supplies for plugging the shot holes being loaded on board, the acrid smell of oakum filled his nostrils.
His chest had been deemed unimportant in the grand scheme of injuries and would only later be seen to once the serious injuries were taken care of. So for the moment his chest lay with a cut from shoulder to lower abdomen to mark the freckled skin. If gangrene set in then measures would be taken, though at that time they would be fruitless. Hornblower's weight had decreased exceedingly since the battle, considering the absence of his legs. Though even the constant pain he was in, it was no worse than that of his comrades'.
The pipes had died down and Hornblower settled to listen for signs of the ship making any turns, which would indicate their new orders, via his ship being of subordinate rank. All he could hear was the setting of an anchor, which was common for a period of stay with a captain when in foul weather; though for the time on a clear day it was slightly unusual. In fact this unnerved Horatio, whose steel clad nerves never frayed from a foul gale to that of his father's death or that of a captain's.
A bought of coughs brought Horatio to a sudden upright position and Clive came rushing toward him. He could not catch his breath and Laurie was showing evident signs of stress on his face when he joined Clive to help initiate respiratory assistance.
"I need a syringe fast. And make it a clean one." Clive yelled adamantly.
Laurie came rushing around to Horatio's left and handed Clive the needle, who hurriedly yelled to Hornblower to lay down and temporarily hold his breath. Clive jabbed the needle straight through the skin and muscle right into his left lung. With a gasp Horatio felt cold air sting his lungs; trying to fill as much space as possible surrounding the needle, which still protruded from his bare chest. A trail of blood followed the puncture site and a wave of pain and nausea passed through his body, though he kept his dignity intact. Clive quickly and as possibly inhumane jerked the syringe from his torso. The heave of his chest at the intake of air had worked its horror on his cut and Laurie sterilized the area as best he could before leaving him in danger of another terrible epidemic.
"We need to transfer Mr. Hornblower, Mr. Chase, and at least a few more to our ship for the time being to treat them. Like it or not our medical knowledge and supplies are vastly superior and your men need the treatment." The "Atropos" medical officer was arguing.
"I find no problem in that as long as the men are returned to us at the next rendezvous or left at Plymouth for other deployment upon the clearance of their health. Do you have any objection Dr. Clive?" The captain asked of the incompetent doctor.
"No sir, though I do wonder if it not best for the men to take extra recovery time here and then assist us in labors, versus the loss of them altogether."
"Your comment is dually noted Dr. Clive, though I do inform you that the officers will be transferred due to the mismanagement of their health status."
"If you don't mind sir I would like to take a look at the patients before their transfer?" The "Atropos" officer asked.
"Very well. Mr. Clive you will lead Mr. Kennedy down to sickbay and inform him of the status of our officers. And on another note I hope to see you again and our officers well."
The captain finished and with that shook hands with the foreign officer and bid him a safe voyage.
As the captain's feet turned on their heels and his coattails whipped the doorway, Dr. Kennedy eyed Dr. Clive for the nuisance he had been during their talk with Captain Morris. An apprehensive chortle from Clive's throat and a hand issued in a westerly way, stated the best direction to sickbay. Kennedy turned in that direction, intent upon not relinquishing an ounce of his self-preservation to talk to the fool who most likely killed savable medical cases. How the moron could not keep a serious chest wound like that of Mr. Hornblower's ahead of a minor burn like that of Mr. Dusge evaded his mind.
They were near sickbay, from the sounds issued around the corner, to his right fiddle music was to be heard, while to his for'rard and left there was silence with the occasionally groan. Rounding the corner into sickbay was always the worst part of his job, for it shows the pain that was taken and how silently and intently the patients deal with it, all in a glance. While taking a swift look, trying to cock himself up for the tasks ahead, he noticed what he thought was Mr. Hornblower, judging by the lacerated chest, doubled over in pain with no one helping the poor man breathe.
He thought quickly; a collapsed lung was likely, maybe an infection finishing him off, no that wouldn't prevent him breathing, unless the idiot doctor's assistant hadn't properly informed him of the condition of Mr. Hornblower. Nearly running, but keeping even strides, Dr. Kennedy quickly made his way to Hornblower's side and immediately noticed an unhealed scar on his chest over the left lung. The scar being so fresh on the pale man's skin indicated the lung had recently collapsed. How the man had went for as long as their discussion with the captain was miraculous, without the necessary tube into his lung there was no way for it to properly inflate and keep its shape. For god's sake the doctor had better have used a clean syringe or the man's life was as good as gone.
"Laurie, get an syringe and a scalpel. Now." Dr. Kennedy urged the insolent young man.
"Why in god's name do you need a scalpel Mr. Kennedy? And can I remind you that for this minute the patient is in my care."
"Gods damn you, you bastard. The patient is in respiratory arrest and you are playing mind games. And may you care to call me Dr., unlike you who deserve no title, considering the petty role you play in saving men of the navy's lives." Kennedy backfired, in turn quieting the doctor for the time.
The scalpel and syringe had arrived and Kennedy grabbed the tools from Laurie and knelt beside Horatio. No scent of gangrene filled his nose and it strangely comforted the doctor to know the patient wasn't in as much pain as possible.
"Mr. Hornblower, your lung has collapsed once again. I will have to do a somewhat invasive procedure to correct this. Unlike the procedure Dr. Clive performed this one will hurt a great deal. I will cut into your lung then insert a tube to re inflate the area that has collapsed, in a few days I will remove the tube. After that your lung will most probably be fine the rest of your life." Hornblower showed no resistance nor barely any attention to the words Kennedy spoke to him.
"Laurie, I need a four millimeter tube, clear."
"Mr. Hornblower, I'm going to start now, please lie back down." Though that idea made a quiver appear between the man's brows, he followed the order.
Kennedy slowly took the scalpel and with his forefinger pressed around the skin covering the lung to find and insertion point. Hornblower's skin was hot to the touch and he was obviously fighting an infection, lest it not be an early stage of gangrene that one cannot smell. With one last trace of the young man's naked flesh he placed the scalpel on his chest and instantaneously drew a line of red. Camouflage against the rest of the man's scar peppered body.
The scalpel was placed on the bed sheet and picked up by the obedient Laurie. Kenned picked up the slim tube apprehensively and then without a second…eighth thought he inserted the tube down into Horatio's lung and heard the man take a long needed breath. Unused to the pain a moan escaped Hornblower's throat before he restrained himself. By now the man was lucky to be alive, the amount of time he had went without air was unknown. Nor did he think anyone knew; Laurie was oblivious, Clive was gone, and Hornblower by now had probably lost all sense of time.
He searched about for some bandages and then set to work bandaging the tube to Hornblower's heaving chest. The man would soon be in his care, would soon be the most critical case he had had in months. Soon a day of reckoning was going to come to him and he hoped to god that it wouldn't be Hornblower who the reckoning would target.