Sprains, strains and drummer boys

Oxley's wrist was aching. He wasn't quite sure what he'd done to it yesterday, but thought that it was something to do with helping Mister Cartwright stay upright on his way back to the liberty-boat.

He'd ignored it, but the ache just wasn't going away and so he reluctantly headed for'rard toward the sickbay in the hope of getting something for it and being sent away, able to do his duty later that evening.

He could hear the quiet murmur of voices and paused as he realised the dispensary door was open. He could see the surgeon inside, obviously talking with someone. Deciding not to disturb him, he headed for the sickbay itself, hoping that maybe Bridgens could patch him up. He didn't particularly want to cause a fuss, after all, not after the last time.

Relieved to escape more questions about his life, Tadgh returned to the sick bay bearing tea. He glanced at the new arrival, "Just one moment if you'll permit me Private?" He handed the tea to Croizer "There, that ought to make you feel a wee bit more human again." before turning back to Private Oxley. "Now, what sees you in the sick berth, Private?"

He felt awkward about being here - it was only a week since he'd last been here, after that fight with de Guarde. He couldn't help grinning at how well they'd pulled their prank off. Dressing a Tar up as a Marine drummer had been the best fun...

He held up his hand. It was the same one that de Guarde had done his best to twist backwards last week, and it was that, and the near-constant ache since yesterday, that had him worried.

"It's me wrist, sir. Got twisted all like hell last week and I reckon I bashed it or summat like, yesterday. Bin achin' all day." And if he didn't need to have proper mobility in his wrists, he wouldn't be here now.

He gave the surgeon's mate a worried look, hoping the man didn't think he was being soppy over something stupid.

Tadgh noticed the boy's nerves and gave him a small smile as he took the boy's arm. He manipulated the joint gently, feeling how all the tendons and muscles were working, and noting when a movement caused wincing or a sharp intake of breath. "It's a little swollen too isn't it?" he asked rhetoricaly. "Well I think it's just a sprain, but be a bit careful for a few weeks, there might be a very small fracture, you wouldn't want it to snap. How would we know it was meal time?" He smirked. He lead Oxley over to a hammock. "I'm going to put a couple of leeches on it, to try and bring down the swelling, then we'll wrap it with some bandages and try and give you some support." He went back to the dispensary to get the leach jar, returning after a few moments.

Bridgens took advantage of the man's absence to cast a quick smirk at the boy. "You drummers," he muttered, shaking his head. "Do anything to get outta work."

Oxley couldn't help catching his lip between his teeth as the man moved his hand about, studying his wrist. It did hurt, not so much that he couldn't think straight, but it was certainly distracting. He looked at it in the feeble light of the lantern as Mister Fitzgerald moved away to get his leeches. It did look a bit swollen, but he hadn't thought there was anything to worry about.

He looked around the small sickbay before perching on a rickety chair by the table. He didn't particularly like being bled at the best of times, but it made sense, if there was swelling.

He poked his tongue out at Bridgens, grinning. "Ran away from home to join the M'rines," he said. "Ain't goin' to let a little thing like this here put me off doin' me duty." Though the mention of a possible fracture had made him nervous all over again. That was a break, wasn't it? And that couldn't be good.

Tadgh gave Bridgens a light smack to the back of the head, mussing his hair more than hurting him. "Behave Bridgens. Or, whats this?" He feigned listening "Do I hear bed pans that need cleaning again?" he raised an eyebrow at the boy.

He turned his attention to Oxley, "You may want to do your duty with a bit less... enthusiasm than you normally do." He warned as he set two leeches right on the wrist joint, he watched with satisfaction as they latched on and began doing their work, though he noted the squeemish expression from Oakly and chuckled to himself a bit. "The twisting you described may have put a small crack in the bone, especially since, I think I understand you, that the worst pain didn't come until you bumped it yesterday" He prepared some long strips of bandaging material as he spoke. "You will want to be gentle with that wrist, don't put too much stress on it if you can help it." he admonished.

He had to fake a cough to hide the chuckle that would have escaped him as Bridgens copped a mild scolding.

"Gots to be heard, though, don't it?" Oxley pointed out, unable to tear his eyes away from the slimy black things now sucking greedily at his wrist. "Jus' put me hand out so's to steady meself against wall." That he'd been helping support Mister Cartwright at the time probably hadn't helped. At least, he thought, the leeches weren't as bad as the fleam the surgeon wielded for a proper blood-letting.

"I'll do me best, sir, though I mightn't be able to help it." He was already trying to work out if it would be possible to switch duties so that he wouldn't have to actually beat for the officers' meals. If he could, it would mean that he wouldn't have to beat at all - unless the Captain sent the ship to Quarters for some reason.

"Yes is has to be heard," he allowed, "but think of it this way lad, you can be a bit softer and a little gentle with it, for a few weeks; or, you can risk turning a small crack into a big break and not be able to drum at all for several months." He looked at the lad seriously, "If you don't think you can manage to be careful with it while still drumming I can ask Mr. Farley to speak to the Lieutenant on your behalf." he suggested kindly.

"I... Well, I ain't 'zackly rough with it now, sir." He looked up at Mister Fitzgerald. "They don't stand for rough treatment, drums. It's just usin' the stick's own weight an' lettin' it bounce, that's all." He was uncomfortable with the idea of anyone talking to Mister Cartwright about him, especially after the last two or three days. But that might not be able to be helped.

"It's in the wrist, though, sir. I do need to be able to move it if I'm goin' to be able to do me duties prop'ly.... though I might be able to stand duty when there ain't anythin' needed unless we get sent to Quarters..." He trailed off, unsure whether he could switch with the Shepherds every time until his wrist was all right again.

He hummed thoughtfully, "Well in that case it is my considered medical opinion that drumming as little as possible would be the prudent choice. Shall I have Mr. Farley speak to the Lieutenant?" He swooped in as the gorged leeches released and fell off, catching them up and replacing them in the leech jar.

Finally the disgusting fat black things seemed to have had enough of his blood because they fell off, allowing Oxley to have a proper look at his wrist. He couldn't see that there had been any change, but he wasn't the surgeon, or anything to do with sickbay, even.

"No! I, ah, no, sir, please." He didn't want Mister Cartwright to be reminded of yesterday evening, or to end up on light duties - which, for a drummer like him, pretty much meant no duties.

There were a couple of spots of blood on his wrist and he raised his hand to suck at the skin, hoping to stop the bleeding a bit quicker.

Tadgh raised an eyebrow again, that was quite the reaction to the offer to ask his superior to excuse him. He wondered if the Lieutenant was a hard sort of officer and the lad feared some sort of reprisal or if young Oxley had done something to earn his superior's ire. He supposed it wasn't really much his business either way. "Stop it" he chided lightly as the boy started to suck at the blood spots and gently grabbed the arm and began to wrap it snuggly with the strips of bandaging. "It's your decision Private. As I've said, my medical advice is to avoid putting much strain on that wrist until it stops aching so much or risk a total fracture, what you do with that advice is up to you." Tadgh paused his wrapping and looked him in the eye seriously, "I do very much hope, however, that you will take heed of it."

"Sorry. It's just... doin' nothin' but cleanin' your kit gets pretty dull by the second day," he said, as Mister Fitzpatrick took his arm and started bandaging his wrist. "Reckon I'll be able to swap so's I won't actually do anythin' even if I'm on duty. Ain't every watch that we have to do anythin', usu'lly on'y for the officers' dinner, unless we run into an enemy ship. Ain't likely we's goin' to do that, neither, not at anchor the way we are right now." He shrugged. "I'll do me best, sir, honest." He didn't want to make things worse if he could help, because that really would mean he wouldn't be on duty for ages, and that would annoy the Shepherds as well as Mister Cartwright.

Tadgh understood the wish to keep busy, granted, he stayed busy to try to keep from thinking and feeling and he certainly hoped young Oxley had no such burdens, but the point was, he understood the wish for activity. He smiled at the lad as he neatly tied off the bandages, "Your best is all anyone can ask. Do what you can. And if it starts to feel worse, especially suddenly, be sure to come speak to me or Mr. Farley immediately." he gave Oxley's arm a very gentle pat. "Was there anything else, Private?" He asked.

He nodded at the order that he come back straight away if it started feeling worse, then shook his head. "No, sir. I can still do me duty, right? That means you won't have to tell Mister Cartwright I bin down here?" It wasn't as though he didn't want the Lieutenant to know; he just didn't want the Lieutenant to think he was shirking his duties and trying to get out of doing his job for no reason.

"Yes, you can still do your duty Private." He nodded, "We all must do out duties of course, just keep in mind the need to be careful." He paused, a large part of him wanted to ask why Oxley was so apparently frightened of his Lieutenant, but he'd been part of Naval life long enough to know that it wouldn't be appropriate. He got so far as to make a questioning "You...?" before he caught himself "Never mind." He sighed a bit, "No I won't tell Mr. Cartwright, but I will be keeping an eye on you, and so will Mr. Farley." The threat to rescind the promise not to tell if Oxley wasn't taking care of himself was implied.

"I...?" Oxley frowned at the way the older man had broken off before he'd even started. "Oh, he's all right, I jus' don't want to end up kickin' around doin' not much of anythin' if I can help. He thinks up some pretty, um, strange things to do if you ain't prop'ly busy." He touched the bandage lightly. "I'll look after it, Mister Fitzgerald, I will, promise."

He frowned a bit at the 'strange things to do' but again, not even remotely his place to comment. "Good lad" he patted Oxley on the shoulder. He paused, realizing that this was a terrible breach of protocol. "If you need to go somewhere to give the appearance of being occupied, you may always come down here for a bit."

It was a nice offer, though the surgeon might get pissed off with him popping down here, and the other Marines would probably start talking about it. Though they were worse than a pack of gossipy old women, sometimes. He grinned, giving a half-shrug. "Might do that, some time, if you don't mind," he said, and looked down at his bandaged wrist. It didn't hurt too badly now, and if he was careful with it he wouldn't get put on the sick list.

"He's all right, Mister Cartwright," Oxley said, thinking suddenly of that dark, closed in tunnel when they had stormed the fort. He grinned. "Let me light off the powder charge to blow us an exit when we got trapped takin' the fort."

"Ah yes, the key to winning most marine's acceptance, let them near things that go bang" Tadgh sighed ruefully, "and I don't mind at all, and neither will Mr. Farley once I apprise him of the situation." He gave Oxley a reassuring smile. "Oh and be sure to come back and have Mr. Farley or myself re do that bandage if it starts to feel loose."



((suddenly mad mad week, sorry for the disappearing act))

Oxley grinned. "It's the sort of thing the officers or sergeant do, that, see," he said. "Never expected him to let me blow it up." He shrugged. "And I'll do that, sir."

He hoped Mister Farley wouldn't take it badly that he'd seen the surgeon's mate over it. He didn't really want anyone telling Mister Cartwright... though, knowing the Marine officer, he would be surprise if Mister Cartwright didn't notice the bandage. He'd just have to try to stay out of his way for a bit.