No Other Way

Writers: Jelena, Paula
Date Posted: 15th December 2014

Characters: Parme, Telemon
Description: Telemon and Parme have a difficult case.
Location: Sunstone Seahold
Date: month 10, day 1 of Turn 7
Notes: Mentioned: Miranek

Parme pushed a sweaty strand of hair back as she looked over her shoulder, willing the Healer to appear. It hadn't taken her long after arriving at the young lady's bedside to tell this birth was going wrong, terribly wrong.

She'd sent Talma off to fetch a Healer, the best she could find and Parme trusted the girl would make top speed in getting to the Infirmary. She could only hope that was fast enough as she worked her hardest to get the girl ready for what was coming. She was too young, way too young.

"Parme?" Telemon strode in. He had long legs that carried him fast. He was carrying his healer's bag. "What's the situation?" He knew Parme wouldn't call him unless it was emergency.

"Young woman, 17 turns of age, first child," Parme summarized briefly. "The baby's in a footling breech, the mother is increasingly anxious." Then, turning to the girl, so as not to upset her even further, she spoke in soothing tones. "Telemon is here, dear, he's going to help us take care of your little one."

Telemon nodded and gave the girl encouraging smile. "I'm going to take very good care of you and your baby," he said to her.

"How long the birth's been going on?" he asked Parme, his voice low.

"Not long, she's been in active labor for about a candlemark now, from what I can gather. I sent for you as soon as I got here. With her age and the positioning of the babe, it seemed best."

"Let me take a look," Telemon asked, waiting to Parme to move aside before he performed his examination. He agreed with her, the situation was severe.

Parme stepped aside quickly, moving to stand on Tyslin's other side, holding her hand. The father was nowhere to be seen, having taken off the moment she arrived. Birthing was women's work after all. No doubt he was off somewhere drinking in premature celebration.

"Have you tried to turn the baby into better position?" Telemon asked while he did this examination.

"I decided it would be better to wait for you, she´s in such a state and with her being so young..." She had figured it too risky. She had turned a lot of babes over the turns, but this situation screamed 'Master Healer' at her.

Telemon nodded. "Let's try that then," he said, preparing for the operation. The risk was that the baby was too low, already entered the birth canal or just refused to be turned to a correct position. Then it would probably mean emergency section and that made him nervous. He'd never done it all by himself, only assisted with master Miranek.

"Alright," Parme nodded, decisively", before turning to Tyslin. "Alright, Tyslin, we're going to try and turn your baby now, so he can be delivered the right way up, alright?" The poor girl could only nod.

"Give her a little drop of fellis to relax her," Telemon said. The poor woman was tensed to the point her muscles was cramped up.

Parme quickly took a glass, filled it with some water and added the drop of fellis with experienced precision. "Here you go, hun, this will make things easier." The girl took the offered glass almost desperately, clenching it in her hands as she drank.

Telemon gave the fellis a moment to take effect before he started to try to turn the baby a better position. After awhile it came apparent it was impossible. The baby had not room to turn around and the mother's muscles were too convulsed and she was weakening rapidly.. He wiped sweat from his brown. "Gave her more fellis," Telemon told Parme. "I'll prepare for surgery," his tone was grim. There was no other way to get the baby out.

Parme instantly complied, taking a few more drops of fellis. That should be enough to help her through the surgery, without harming the babe. But she was ready to administer more, if needed. "Anything else?"

"Clean her stomach with redworth solution and the spread numbweed," Telemon replied. "I need you to assist me during the surgery. I don't have time to talk it through with you before hand so you just have to follow my orders."

"On it," Parme said, her face grave as she followed his instructions, ready to do whatever he said, when he said it. She trusted Telemon enough for that.

When all the preliminary preparations were done, Telemon checked the woman was truly conscious and then started the operation. Concentrating totally, he shut rest of the world out. His instructions to Parme were short: "Staunch the bleeding. Check the pulse." Cutting her open wasn't hard, hardest part was to keep her from bleeding to death.

Finally he pulled the baby out of the womb. It was a boy, he noted absently. "Well, look how the cord is wrapped around his body! No wonder he didn't turn around. The cord didn't give in," he gave the baby to Parme, trusting her to take care of him, while he started to stitch close the mother.

Parme deftly took the babe from Telemon's arms, wrapping it in a warm blanket and clearing his airways in one fluid movement. As the little boy started to wail loudly, she couldn't help the tears of joy that formed in the corners of her eyes. The babe had made it. Now Telemon could focus on the mother.

Telemon find himself smiling when he heard the baby's cry. He finished stiches and checked her vitals. She wasn't out of danger yet. Bigest risk now was internal bleeding. He would keep her under close observation. "Good work, Parme. You would have made an excellent healer," he complimented after she was stabilized.

"Thank you," Parme said with a tired smile. "You were amazing, I wouldn't have thought..." That the babe would make it. That Tyslin would make it. But there was no sense in voicing those thoughts. For now, they were both all right and that was what mattered.

"Thanks," Telemon said, rubbing his face. He was tired but happy. They've done it.

Last updated on the December 26th 2014

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No Other Way