Post by Marshall Quatrevaux on Sept 10, 2013 0:48:58 GMT -5
Is this the end?
Oh my God
Is this the end?
Or just the beginning?
Oh my God
Is this the end?
Or just the beginning?
___
Where he would much rather be was Grand Isle, taking care of his brother, Wesley. He knew the rest of his family had that well in hand - Angela was taking him soup, and their parents were keeping him hydrated as per Marshall's instructions - but he would have liked to have been there for his brother. Failing that, he would have preferred to be at home. While neither Jessica nor Sammie seemed to be sick, he had been away from both of them more often these days, and this unexpected calamity had only made that worse.
It wasn't often that Marshall actually felt reluctant to do his job. Actually, he couldn't remember having felt this way since his residency, excepting a few brief moments during Adam Lynch's inpatient time at Jung. But he had been at a local hospital the day before, leading the counseling effort, helping families of cholera victims come to terms with their loved ones' conditions and, in too many cases, deaths. That had been one of the most difficult days of his life. It was overwhelming, having to talk so many people down, and often in groups; when they gathered themselves en masse, they tended to feed off each other's grief and helplessness, and it became far too much to handle even for Marshall. He had been able to calm most of the people he had spoken to, which he probably should have counted as a success, but he had still gone home with a heavy heart and an uneasy mind.
As such, he was dreading having to go on site again. This time, he was overseeing a different group, at a different hospital. Most of the volunteers in this group had not yet been in the field, although some of their more experienced members had. Marshall had taken up the task of introducing each new team to the work of comforting the cholera victims and their families. They were being careful about who went where, however, to keep everyone from getting sick. Marshall was not too worried about himself due to his abilities, but others were a bit more of a concern. Irma especially, as she was an old, close friend of his. Crystalynn boasted of being in excellent health, but Marshall would have said the same of Wesley.
The group made their way to the hospital in one of Jung's vans. Only a few of them were psychologists or psychology residents, and Marshall was the only psychiatrist; the rest were on their way to try to help treat the disease. Each of the hospitals - those that had not been quarantined, at least - needed more help than they had available to them, and some groups like the Red Cross were limited in where they could go and the help they could offer, based on being comprised mostly of civilians. Jung was in a much better position.
He looked out of the van's windows, but wasn't quite seeing anything. Irma sat up front with the driver, and Crystalynn was chattering with everyone else in the back. "…so the bouncers look at each other, and then look at me, and one tells me, 'Sure, uh, thanks for helping us out!'" She giggled. Somehow the woman managed to remain cheerful even in the face of sickness and death. Marshall knew she was only trying to raise the spirits of their team, and not to belittle the tragedies unfolding around them, and he couldn't help thinking that perhaps he should have asked her to lead the grief counseling efforts rather than fill her usual position as a physician. At least she would be able to use that good cheer to soothe and reassure the patients, he thought. Or give them somewhat more pleasant deaths.
Los Angeles had been lucky. Some cities and towns, especially along the Eastern Seaboard, had been completely quarantined; not officially, for that would have been a terrible look for the politicians there, but no aid group would venture there, leaving the citizens to fend for themselves. Marshall was planning to try helping one of those next. If he could just teach himself how to manage the seemingly endless wave of grief.
"This is it," Marshall said as the van pulled into the parking lot. The driver chose a space that was fairly far from any other vehicles to give them room to run out supplies. The only other automobiles nearby were a pair of plain black sedans. "Irma, Crystalynn, Nireva, and I will go in and assess the situation. Everyone else, stay here and prep the equipment while we're gone. We'll update you once we get back."
Everyone trundled out of the van, with those named persons gathering to head into the hospital, and the others heading to the back of the van, where the equipment was stored. Marshall glanced up at the hospital and sighed. Another day. "From what the hospital director told me, they've got the cholera patients situated in the east wing. That's where you'll take the medical team. I'll check with the hospital's grief counselors and then come back to get our psych team. Hopefully we'll be able to wrap things up well enough to leave in the hospital's hands between six and seven tonight. We'll get back in touch around that time."
But Irma wasn't quite looking at Marshall. Her gaze was on something behind him. As he was speaking, he didn't notice it, but her voice in his head revealed what was happening. Turn around, boss. We've got company, and they sure do look like trouble.
Marshall glanced over his shoulder and saw a few figures alighting from the black sedans. They were dressed somewhat casually, as the Jung team was, but most of them were wearing sunglasses. The sunglasses didn't completely conceal their identities, however. With a glance back to his coworkers that was meant to say 'stay here,' he strode over to the other group, stopping in front of their leader. He glared up at the man, making no attempt to hide his irritation and lack of patience. "What are you doing here?"
It wasn't often that Marshall actually felt reluctant to do his job. Actually, he couldn't remember having felt this way since his residency, excepting a few brief moments during Adam Lynch's inpatient time at Jung. But he had been at a local hospital the day before, leading the counseling effort, helping families of cholera victims come to terms with their loved ones' conditions and, in too many cases, deaths. That had been one of the most difficult days of his life. It was overwhelming, having to talk so many people down, and often in groups; when they gathered themselves en masse, they tended to feed off each other's grief and helplessness, and it became far too much to handle even for Marshall. He had been able to calm most of the people he had spoken to, which he probably should have counted as a success, but he had still gone home with a heavy heart and an uneasy mind.
As such, he was dreading having to go on site again. This time, he was overseeing a different group, at a different hospital. Most of the volunteers in this group had not yet been in the field, although some of their more experienced members had. Marshall had taken up the task of introducing each new team to the work of comforting the cholera victims and their families. They were being careful about who went where, however, to keep everyone from getting sick. Marshall was not too worried about himself due to his abilities, but others were a bit more of a concern. Irma especially, as she was an old, close friend of his. Crystalynn boasted of being in excellent health, but Marshall would have said the same of Wesley.
The group made their way to the hospital in one of Jung's vans. Only a few of them were psychologists or psychology residents, and Marshall was the only psychiatrist; the rest were on their way to try to help treat the disease. Each of the hospitals - those that had not been quarantined, at least - needed more help than they had available to them, and some groups like the Red Cross were limited in where they could go and the help they could offer, based on being comprised mostly of civilians. Jung was in a much better position.
He looked out of the van's windows, but wasn't quite seeing anything. Irma sat up front with the driver, and Crystalynn was chattering with everyone else in the back. "…so the bouncers look at each other, and then look at me, and one tells me, 'Sure, uh, thanks for helping us out!'" She giggled. Somehow the woman managed to remain cheerful even in the face of sickness and death. Marshall knew she was only trying to raise the spirits of their team, and not to belittle the tragedies unfolding around them, and he couldn't help thinking that perhaps he should have asked her to lead the grief counseling efforts rather than fill her usual position as a physician. At least she would be able to use that good cheer to soothe and reassure the patients, he thought. Or give them somewhat more pleasant deaths.
Los Angeles had been lucky. Some cities and towns, especially along the Eastern Seaboard, had been completely quarantined; not officially, for that would have been a terrible look for the politicians there, but no aid group would venture there, leaving the citizens to fend for themselves. Marshall was planning to try helping one of those next. If he could just teach himself how to manage the seemingly endless wave of grief.
"This is it," Marshall said as the van pulled into the parking lot. The driver chose a space that was fairly far from any other vehicles to give them room to run out supplies. The only other automobiles nearby were a pair of plain black sedans. "Irma, Crystalynn, Nireva, and I will go in and assess the situation. Everyone else, stay here and prep the equipment while we're gone. We'll update you once we get back."
Everyone trundled out of the van, with those named persons gathering to head into the hospital, and the others heading to the back of the van, where the equipment was stored. Marshall glanced up at the hospital and sighed. Another day. "From what the hospital director told me, they've got the cholera patients situated in the east wing. That's where you'll take the medical team. I'll check with the hospital's grief counselors and then come back to get our psych team. Hopefully we'll be able to wrap things up well enough to leave in the hospital's hands between six and seven tonight. We'll get back in touch around that time."
But Irma wasn't quite looking at Marshall. Her gaze was on something behind him. As he was speaking, he didn't notice it, but her voice in his head revealed what was happening. Turn around, boss. We've got company, and they sure do look like trouble.
Marshall glanced over his shoulder and saw a few figures alighting from the black sedans. They were dressed somewhat casually, as the Jung team was, but most of them were wearing sunglasses. The sunglasses didn't completely conceal their identities, however. With a glance back to his coworkers that was meant to say 'stay here,' he strode over to the other group, stopping in front of their leader. He glared up at the man, making no attempt to hide his irritation and lack of patience. "What are you doing here?"
___