The Roof, the Roof, the Roof is on Fire! (Oonah)

[Qit'ria]

Date

Vhalar 1st, 719

Qit'ria was busy watching one of the Order of Adunih healers go through many different types of stitching techniques and when to use them. Her and Oonah were both in attendance, as well as all the members of their healing group. The short portly woman with glasses, was speaking with a terribly cheerful tone.

"Alright gang! Pay attention!"

She gestured to the table in the middle of the room. On a cloth were many types of needles, of different sizes, materials, some were straight, others were curved. "These are a standard set of surgical needles we put together here at the order. A needle for every occasion. It is imperative that you clean your needles, and the pouch, religiously. A dirty needle can kill your patient."

She then went through, explaining the different names and uses for each needle. Then she moved onto the thread types, repeating the process. She held up an instrument that looked like a strange set of tongs. "You can use this to hold the needle, or you can use your own fingers. Whatever feels right and works best for each situation. Just remember, clean clean clean!"

She then, using various cloths, showed the basic suturing techniques, explaining why and when to use them. "Now, all of you try! If you have any questions, just ask!" Qit stepped forward to the table, alongside many others, to begin practicing. She didn't like this group style of learning, she was figdety and didn't like how little they moved. But she knew Oonah appreciated it and that she herself needed it. So she stuck it out. She moved to pick up a needle when there was a small boom nearby and the Order of Adunih shook, causing many people to yell out, startled.

Qit didn't know what had happened, but she knew it wasn't good. One look at Oonah, "Oonah, we go help. Fast."

It was not a request. Qit immediately began sharpening her focus, grabbing her Order pack on the way out, knowing Oonah could keep up with ease. Once outside, Qit looked around, seeing smoke from the east, down the road. She started running toward that direction, solidifying her hand and shoulder as much as possible to keep the pack with her. Several houses down, one larger tavern was on fire. Glass and other debris was laying around in the street, in various states of conflagration.

She heard moans from inside, and saw city guards rushing into help. Her instinct was to rush in too, but she knew what the Order would want. Plus, she might be in the way. The guards seemed to be on it. She, and others coming from the Order, would be handling the healing, the guards would be handling the saving. Several Order members were arriving, and one gold cloak was taking charge. He threw around the word triage, which Qit thought sounded familiar. She looked around for Oonah, to gain some extra direction for her.

The highest ranking officer of the guard on the scene came over to the gold cloak, informing her that the tavern's brewery in the basement had exploded and the entire place was going up in flames. It was terribly volatile and several people had died instantly. The guards now were beginning to drag people out. The gold cloak pointed the guards toward Qit and Oonah's position. The man was burned on his exposed skin, and blood was leaking out of his nose and ears.

And Qit was freezing up.

[Oonah]

Tree Talk Xanthean Common

Oonah sat as close to the demonstration table as she could get. She knew Qit wasn't so excited about being in the classroom and might unconsciously fade out if her concentration was lost. It really worked out well in the long run because later Oonah would review her more-detailed notes to answer Qit's challenging questions. A soft smile curved upon her lips as she thought they made the perfect study buddies.

'These are a standard set of surgical needles...,' Oonah jotted her notes as their instructor continued:

Needles:
Early times or dire need, made from sharp thorns
Needles of bone, antler, horn, or ivory can be used
(Note: needles and suture material from nature more likely to infect wounds)
More current needles - iron, silver, copper, bronze - easier to sterilize
Variety of body and tip shapes for various wounds

Thread Types:
Absorbable/dissolving or Non-Absorbable/need removed
Threads could be made of plant fibers like cotton, flax, and hemp, or animal fibers such as hair, muscle strips, tendons, nerves, arteries, strips of gut, silk
**Catgut?? cow? sheep?

Sutures:
Interrupted sutures - stitches not connected. Each stitch individually placed and tied
Continuous sutures - one piece of thread used to create all of the stitches. Thread isn't cut/tied until the last stitch has been sown.

Oonah went back to note that 'catgut' could be made from cow or sheep intestines. A wrinkle of confusion creased her brow as she placed a question mark. If it were cow gut or sheep gut why would it be called 'catgut?'

As Oonah doodled a page of stitches and knots, her last effort scrawled uncontrollably across the page as the entire building shook through a violent repercussion that she could feel from toe roots to branch tips. Startled, Oonah's cry rose along with her fellow students as Qit called them to action.

Dread washed through her as she dropped everything and began to run, her tiny legs whirling like a grouse's wings in flight. For a few yards she was able to shadow Qit but, as they began to cross a large radius of burning debris, Oonah's steps began to lag. The ground was pocked by bright smoldering embers, charred bits of building, and shattered furniture and glass.

She hated fire. Tunawa were a hardy folk by nature but fire was their bane. Amid wails of pain and shock, guards raced about pulling folk from the conflagration of the burning tavern to lay them in short rows of dead or be brought wounded to an impromptu triage area.

A man with angry burns and concussive bleeding was brought to them for care, but for some reason Qit had gone still as a statue. "Heart Sister, what is wrong? Do you fear the fire too?" What else could it be? Oonah had never really got the full story about how her friend had died. "Fear or old pain or bad memories are not important now while others suffer." Oonah felt as if she were trying to encourage herself as much as Qit.

The man brought to them began to struggle, trying to lift himself from the cot as he moaned. "No, Ima good! Ish need to get back ta meh son, Tobin! Tobin ish still... He be still Inside! Doan let im burn! He cried out harshly, TOBBIIIN!" then fell back succumbing to the shock of his pain.

Wetting a rag in a bucket of water left out of the budget brigade, Oonah walked alongside the man to dribble cool water across his skin, washing soot from his burns in rivuals. "All are being brought out. Be easy calm, sir, as best we can to bring you comfort then to see to Tobin we will." He only moaned, his lashless, reddened eye-lids fluttering.

Another explosion rocked the streets as more liquor within the tavern detonated in the heat. Shying from the pelting cinders, Oonah nervously began to recite one of their lessons aloud in Xanthean. " First degree burns are red and painful. Second degree causes more pain and blisters on red splotchy skin. Third-degree burns show as white-charred skin. We can treat First and Second but all the Third degree burns go to the experienced cloaks to heal tissue and nerve damage to avoid disfigurement. We can use Aloe Vera or honey to treat First and Second degree burns. But better yet....

Oonah rummaged deep into her pack pulling out a large metal tin. "Have burn salve made of lavendar, comfry, calendula, plaintain and St. John's Wort. My mother's recipe." Slipping the lid aside she offered it to Qit then dipped her fingers in to begin coating the man's burns with featherlight fingertips.

More victims were being carried toward the group of healers centered around the Gold cloaked healer. Besides terrible burns they could at least expect cuts, broken bones, and concussions all experienced through various levels of intoxication.

REFERENCES:
Medical and Surgical Sutures...
History of the Suture
Burn Remedies
Simple herbal burn salve recipe

[Qit'ria]

Date

The Echo of the dead huntress couldn't quite hear the sounds of chaos around her. She could tell they were there, but they were dampened down, echoing. As though she could hear them through water. She felt her blood running cold. Around her, the air began to grow cold. She knew this fear, but it was not her own. For a brief moment, she could see the burned and destroyed forest of the Lori around her, see the body of the great Induk burned and charred. She could see that fire anak that was chained to the rock by some mystical trap. She remembered the feeling of her skin blistering and burning as she tried to free the frightened spirit.

Then two words cut through the barrier and Qit snapped out of it. Heart Sister. The frigid air around her instantly dissipated and she set back to work. "Yes Heart Sister mine." She moved with her sister, taking the time to focus on her materialization, to make herself solid so she could help these people. She kicked away the embers nearest to Oonah, not willing to risk anything. She knelt over the man, placing herself between the flames and explosions and the Tunawa woman. After all, Oonah could die. Qit couldn't die again.

She listened to the lesson Oonah recited, only now being able to remember it herself. These... new memories were difficult to hold onto. Like trying to capture fog. She focused on lessons of old. She had been burned and exploded before. She looked down at the man's bloodied ears. He couldn't hear them she reckoned. Part of her considered possessing the man to better communicate the message, but it was too risky. Her spark... made it too terrible of a toll to possibly inflict on this man.

She'd have to use the skills of a mother then. She hovered her face over his, looking him in the eyes. She pointed at her ears, then shook her head, then pointed at him, a questioning look on her face. He nodded, and she took that to mean that he couldn't hear right now. She held a finger to her lips and put on a stern look, telling him to be quiet and hopefully to be still. He nodded, then closed his eyes.

She took the tin that Oonah offered and set it nearby. But before she dipped into it, she remembered the exploding insects she'd encountered in the Lori. Those fires had burned beneath her clothes too. She grabbed a pair of shears from the pack, and began cutting away the man's clothes. Decency would have to wait. His skin exposed, she now joined Oonah in applying the salve all over, not just the exposed areas.

She looked up to see a woman being brought over to them, triaged as noncritical. The hair had been completely burned away from her head and it seemed an ear was missing, but the rest of her seemed fine. Qit stood up, again, not finding the need to speak. She took the woman from the guard, bringing her over next to the man before Oonah, sitting her down. The woman was shellshocked and not responding to her situation. She could be easily startled, a deer who had seen its predator but not yet reacted.

Qit moved around in front of the woman, seeing that empty look in her eyes. As the ghost was now noticed by the woman, Qit instantly saw that look of terror beginning to form. Quick as a whip, acting on instinct more than anything else, a tendril materialized itself from Qit, not visible to the woman, though certainly visible to Oonah. The tendril wrapped the woman's arms and torso, working to keep her immobile. The woman's mouth opened to scream and Qit jammed a second tendril into the open mouth. She brought her face close to the struggling woman.

"You hurt. I healer. We help you. You need calm. Now." The words were said in the most stern of voices, accompanied by a no nonsense glare. She tightened her grip on the woman until she nodded her head. Qit'ria removed the tendrils. "I look at you now." Qit'ria leaned in close to the ear that had been lost. The hole was still there and was bleeding. She covered the woman's good ear with her hand and whispered into the damaged ear, "Can you hear?"

The woman nodded, and Qit smiled. "Good. You right ear gone. Not come back. But hear is still there. I treat you, give bandage. You have scars, but have life." She grabbed a skin of salt water and a leather strap. She handed the woman the strap. "Bite this." The woman hesitated, getting another glare from Qit. She slipped the leather between her teeth. "This hurt. No move or I make you no move." The woman let loose a small sob and nodded as tears began to flow.

Qit poured the salt water over the ear side wound. The woman whined through the leather but she kept herself still. Qit grabbed a tin with her tendril, opening it up now. It was another unguent, this time to prevent infection and stop bleeding. She rubbed that to the wound around her ear hole, humming as she worked. Once she was done put some of Faith's special bandage she'd invented over the wound and tied it around the lower portion of the woman's head and face.

Qit then began removing what burned hairs remained on the skin of the woman's scalp. This area didn't seem as bad, first degree burn. She took some more of Oonah's ointment, applying it there as well. Once she was done, the woman looked white and queasy from the pain. "Come stand. We need room." The woman used Qit as support to pull herself upright. Qit winced, not able to withstand so much weight under her current materialization strength. Wisps of her ectoplasm flittered off her like the ashes from a fire, but she bit down and endured it, as she walked the woman across the street. She sat her next to a building. "No leave. Rest."

Qit turned back, moving toward Oonah as more people continued to be carried out.

[Oonah]

Tree Talk Xanthean Common

The man couldn't hear! He had called out so Oonah had just assumed he could hear. But it made sense. If the explosion could rattle windows from down the street, from ground zero it surely would wreck the delicate structures in the ear. As if the blood trickle wasn't a big red flag as well, she thought, shaking her head. How stupid. But her pride swelled in Qit's ability to truly assess the problem and her efforts to communicate more effectively with their patient. "Good knowing, Heart Sister. Let us be sure to find what has happened to 'Tobin' and tell this man when he can hear again." It was a promise to herself more than a recommendation.

She watched as Qit stepped up to treat a shocky woman with a missing ear and terrible burns about her head. Oonah didn't react much as the ghost healer took control of the situation, sending tendrils of ectoplasm to whip about and within their latest patient. At one time the Tunawa would have felt abhorrence at such treatment; but, fortunately over trials, she had become accustomed to Qit's disconcertingly unique way to restrain people. Her friend's heart was in the right place. She just hoped that the patient Would be too traumatized to remember that part later. Oonah moved to gently caress the woman's hands when her frightened eyes glazed with tears to take the leather bit in her teeth, "Healer Qit stern but very good, she muchly cares you getting better." Throughout the ministration Oonah crooned wordlessly hoping the woman's tension would ease a bit with the distraction.

All of the novice healers were given an impromptu lesson in treating smoke inhalation. Gold cloak instructors moved among the paired teams to remind them all, 'Give close attention to anyone who may have inhaled more than just wisps of smoke. Move them to fresh air and treat their individual symptoms as best as you can. You can expect chest pain, difficulty breathing, and airway burns in the nose, mouth, and throat. Express how important it is for Everyone to visit the clinic in the next couple of trials for follow-up whether they exhibit symptoms or not." They also saw headaches, nausea and vomiting. There were many cases of confusion and double vision. Sometimes it was unclear what was caused by the smoke or from inebriation, but every patient was to be seen.

Feeling more than a little wilted, Oonah looked up from sending off their latest soot-begrimed patient to notice a heavy weight of expectation in the air. Oonah saw many people turned to watch the building which was now fully engulfed in flames. She heard someone gasp, "It's been too long! He hasn't come out yet!" But for a few still hacking and wheezing, it seemed the whole town was holding it's breath.

Then, from within the fiery hues, a great shadow appeared. The bulky form staggered as it breached the flames, appearing through the billows of smoke as a brawny man bent double under the weight of another. Just as they cleared the framework, the entire structure finally collapsed in a shower of ember sparks that lit the area like a hellish trial.

Smoldering flames danced across both bodies as the brawny man heaved the other to safety. The victim was quickly swallowed by a crowd of do-gooders but not before the man Oonah and Qit had first treated shouted out in recognition, 'TOBIN! He's rescued Tobin!'

The little Tunawa grinned at Qit, but then collective gasps rose upon the heat-whipped winds. Turning back, she saw a Golden Cloak run to where the hero had fallen.

She watched in dreadful anticipation as the healer swiped into the man's mouth as he tipped up the chin. Then he shifted to straddle the man, placed one hand on top of the other over the sternum and began to push hard, repititously, really fast. After about thirty pushes, the healer would lean forward, pinch the hero's nose closed, take a gasping breath and blow twice into his mouth. Oonah could clearly see the man's chest rise with each exhalation. Then the cycle would be repeated.

Oonah looked on sadly before speaking to her friend, "Heart Sister, I do not think I could do this..." She just didn't see how she could have the strength or heft for it and didn't like the reminder that, in some ways, she was just inadequate.

"Moseke, Blessed mother save this Good man...." the rest of her prayer continued in her thoughts as she watched the Gold Cloak try to jump start a hero's life.


Reference:
Options for Treating Smoke Inhalation

**OOC: Special Thanks for the efforts of All First Responders**

[Qit'ria]

Date

Qit'ria continued to treat those with burnt nasal passages and throats from the smoke, as the more serious cases were given to more experienced healers who had arrived. More than anything else during this time, Qit'ria did what she always did best. She paid attention to her surroundings. It was crucial when she was alive, in being a huntress and a mother. To always pay attention to everything.

And she saw the guard carrying the man out of the burning wreckage, just before the building collapsed. She heard the man identified as Tobin, the man that was sought by his deafened, hopefully temporarily, father. She watched as Tobin was lifted from the man's shoulders by those in the crowd of helpers, but none of them wore the cloaks that her, Oonah, and the others wore. She watched as the hero was lauded and watched as a gold cloak began to try and breathe life into him. She watched as Oonah prayed to the forest mother, using her divine power to help heal him.

And she watched as the do gooders set Tobin down against a wall, looking around for a healer, lost in the growing crowd. Qit'ria stood and strode through the crowd, slipping through the narrow gaps in the people, startling some, though not caring, on a beeline for Tobin. She knelt down next to him, as the do gooders moved to intervene on what appeared to them to be a hostile ghost. She snarled at them, "Get back! Cloaks only!" They all flinched and immediately gave space. But still, it formed a small, isolated pocket in the crowd, somehow leaving only Qit and Tobin together, while others watched them, watched the fire, watched everything.

Tobin's head lulled about upon his shoulders as he moaned. He was still conscious, but only barely so. His face was grimaced and in pain, though he didn't seem to have much in the way of burns. Very few, all minor. She cooed at him like a child, laying him down upon the stones of the road, trying to get a better look at him, to find the source of pain. As she laid him down though, she saw something that made her queasy, and she knew the problem instantly. His ribs were all pressing up against his skin unnaturally.

She pressed gently against the skin around the area, finding it taut and full. Her eyes grew wide, and she called for the Gold Cloak over the crowd. She yelled over and over until the Gold Cloak finally arrived. The healer looked down at the man and he shook his head. He knelt down next to Qit, a hand gently upon her back. "This man will die. Soon. I think you can see that. If you see his ribs there, they've broken and separated, possibly from the force of the first explosion. Those broken ribs have pierced his internal organs in multiple places, and his torso is filling with blood. He will likely suffocate as the blood presses against his lungs, not allowing them to expand to take in air. There's simply too much damage here."

Qit'ria had heard everything he'd said, and in her mind, all she needed to do was let the blood out, to allow the man to breathe. She reached into her pack, grabbing her scalpel, to slice open his stomach, drain him a bit. As she reached the blade forward, the gold cloak grabbed her wrist tightly, and she snarled at him, staring fury at his face. But he was clam and passive, even smiled reassuringly, "You have good instincts, good intention. But this is part of triage too. This man will die. Maybe one as skilled as Faith Augustin might be able to save him, but she is blessed by the gods and talented above all others. For us, we must accept his death. If you bleed him out, he will still die, but it will be slower and more painful for him."

He took the knife from Qit'ria's hand, and guided into the dying man's own. "Be here for him. Learn from this. This is a powerful lesson today." Qit'ria squeezed the man's hand, listening to the small gasps in his breath as he began to suffocate. They became softer and softer until the man went limp, and she felt his life slip away. And still, she stayed kneeling there with him, holding his dead hand. She felt powerless, something she hated terribly. She'd killed before, many times, some justified, others not. But this was her first loss as a healer.

And it struck her a lot harder than any of those she'd killed. Harder than that innocent child she'd skewered in her escape in Rynmere. Harder than her father she'd killed in mercy. And silvery ectoplasmic tears streamed down her face as she continued to hold his hand, rocking back and forth upon her knees. All around the street, guards were dispersing the crowd of onlookers, others pouring buckets of water on the fire. The Order had all the injured in the care of a member or two now.

And Qit'ria there, holding the dying man, felt terribly alone.