Station #9

Pandora Medical Log - Emergency Doctor Reginald

Patients are becoming infected at an increased rate. The transmission seems to have doubled from R-2 to R-4, more research will be needed to discover if this is the case. The method of transmission remains unclear, although blood is the most likely method.

Sadly I fear science must be placed on the back burner. We have witnessed 10 more patients die within the last 48 hours: the count is now 41 deaths in total. I will be filing a proposal with the Sirius Stations director to schedule emergency evacuation and isolation procedures for all personnel aboard the station. This will undoubtedly set back research efforts but given the abrupt and terminal nature of the illness, it is time to focus on containment rather than management.

Signing off.

"Go back to the first patient. I need to review it again." Chandra said abruptly.

The first log in what would become the largest and most researched pandemic in the history of humanity's space travel flashed onto the blue screen before Dr. Hadley and the new resident student Chandra.

Emergency Medical Log - Patient #15027

A thirty-two-year-old male presented to med-bay in a near-catatonic state. The patient is either unwilling or unable to speak. He sits in a kneeling position with hands clawing at his back from over the shoulders, due to his state he had to be wheeled in. His back shows signs of strange skin necrosis, with yellow rings surrounding the sections of necrosis. Additionally numerous black and blue warts cover the patient's hands and arms. The patient's partner reports that the patient had previously been treated with first-line treatments for psychosis based on his sudden lack of vocalization and catatonic symptoms without any improvement. It was upon further evaluation by the psychiatrist and general practitioner that the skin necrosis and mild swelling were discovered resulting in the patient's admittance to med-bay for more extensive treatment.

...

The report goes on to describe more of the symptoms, all of which worsened, and the treatments, all of which failed. Chandra pensively reread the straightforward report that every doctor in the galaxy had read at least half-a-dozen times and was completely oblivious to the coming onslaught. Just as she neared the end Dr. Hadley abruptly closed the program and turned to her and said "I know you don't need to, you're just trying to find another clue when there is none. We'll solve the problem yet, I suspect our brains just need a little time off," he smiled warmly at that.

"Well," Chandra jumped up brightly from the table and held her arm out for the famed physician, "shall we go get something to eat then."

"Yes, I think we should. Let's take the long way round." Dr. Hadley braced himself between Chandra's arm and his cane as they proceeded out into the vacant hallways. No one was engaging in idle conversation, no children ran amuck through the warped hallways, only a skeleton crew remained only providing the most basic services so the station wouldn't become a giant piece of space junk. Those who remained optimistic would like to believe it would one day return to its former glory, or become a new hub of medical research. Dr. Hadley knew better. Yes, one day this little station would be compacted and recycled for parts and all its memories would float away into the great black of space, just as we all shall do in time.

He was taken away from that thought by the sound of Chandra humming a nostalgic melody. He hadn't heard music in the longest time, the countless hours of research and medical practice had taken up all his waking hours the past few years. It was sweet to hear someone hum again. She was a bright girl, and she'd make a brilliant doctor in time. Hopefully, she won't forget to take care of herself in time.

"One of the last patients I treated, before stepping back into the infectious disease supervision role, used to sing in his final days. He was a trained opera singer, one of the most talented in the world. Every note he sang was perfectly tuned and every vowel was enunciated pristinely. But once the plague took hold - once it really dug its talons in - all he could get out were a few tone-deaf gurgles. That was the hardest one to watch go, even harder than the children. I haven't a clue why. Maybe it was because he never stopped even though every noise he made was incredibly painful to produce. All through the night and all through the day after his fairweather friends had left and his wife had died, he still kept singing no matter how badly his body wanted him to leave."

Dr. Hadley coughed as he let those final words out and stopped outside an airlock. Chandra stopped humming and looked at him curiously.

"Never stop singing Chandra, and never let yourself become a poor singer. There are many illnesses that don't let you go quickly or easily, they'll drag you down slowly as your nails start to bleed as you cling on to the rocks. Kill yourself first if you must but don't let them take you away what joy you have left."

Chandra furrowed her brow as her eyes scanned Dr. Hadley up and down. Analyzing every word he said, desperately seeking some sort of explanation as to his sudden wordiness and grief. She would find out the reason soon enough. But if it was a greater 'why' she was looking for she'll never find it. A great many doctors have wasted the better part of their career doing the same and always fall short. Nurses have gone home and cried into their sheets over why children show up to emergency rooms beaten and bruised, doctors search for why some patients survive and others don't, wondering if it was their fault one died and the other lived. Wondering why a great many diseases entered this world. They search in vain in laboratories and in swine guts, in patient histories and travel logs, maybe finding an explanation but never a good, logical reason. That's the real sacrifice we healers make. The years of schooling, long hours, and high stakes can all be accounted for by a good salary and a loving family, but our sanity will never return. Soon enough we all just look like sacks of meat floating around in chaos that we are helpless to keep well. Because even if we gather enough tubes into a body to keep the lungs breathing and the heart beating, they'll never leave the same person that came in. And so it goes on and on.

I'm not leaving a different person than I came in, Dr. Hadley thought to himself.

In a stern tone, Dr. Hadley told Chandra to wait right here as he opened the door to the airlock, and closed it again. His protegé had sprung up and stared at him through the thick glass, vainly asking him what was going on, even knocking on the glass. He pressed the small button on the intercom and croaked out to her.

"Settle down my dear, it'll all be over soon enough. You've got a long and bright future ahead of you, one that I wish I had the time to see. Alas, I'm cursed not to see what the next generation of brilliant doctors has in store. But I'm sure you all will approach your patients with compassion and grace, and that you'll figure this whole plague nonsense out. Even if it's too late for me."

Chandra went still as the realization that her teacher had become infected with the deadly disease hit her. She choked back tears and replied into the intercom.

"Perhaps it is too late, but can't you fight a little longer? Even just to teach me a little longer?"

"Chandra, I'm a doctor, not a soldier, and you should be careful not to be so selfish when you are in a selfless profession."

She laughed sadly at that.

"I've written you a letter of recommendation, it's in your mail, find someplace to go that is full of life and isn't just a half-filled carriage between life and death. You'll be fine."

"But you won't be," she shuddered.

"Depends on how you've defined fine. Death comes for all of us in time, I just wouldn't want him to come for someone that isn't me anymore. I remember when my daughter was born, seeing one end of life. Chandra, I'm ready to see the other end."

Chandra was crying but managed to joke "looks like I should've become a hospice nurse instead of a doctor, then I might know what to say next."

Dr. Hadley smiled, tipped his hat to her as a final goodbye, and then pressed the largest button in the airlock. Shooting himself out into the great abyss of space. Leaving Chandra and the future alone, on Station #9.