Um. 

Fraser stops and - doesn't pick it up, because on reflection wow what a bad idea. "I, uh, am pretty sure my patient drew this." 

     Dr Chadha, who's sitting and staring grumpily at one of the monitors, spins around in his wheely office chair. "Your patient plays D&D?" 

"What? No! ...I mean, seems unlikely, she doesn't speak English." 

     Dr Chadha gives him a bemused look. "Why would she draw an elaborate alignment chart? Don't get me wrong, it's very cool, just..." 

"I have no idea! She's really confusing! Marian didn't say anything about it! I guess they were using it to communicate about something?" Not that he can think what. "- anyway, what I actually came over here for was, her labs are back and they're, like, okay? White count is up some more but it's still below 20." 

     Nod. "Let's repeat in four hours. What's her lactate? ...Oh, and is she awake, I kind of want to ask her what the deal is with her cool-ass alignment chart -" 

Fraser scowls. "That is not an emergency and she's iso. I didn't see if the lactate was back yet." 

     Dr Chadha turns back to the computer, logs in with his badge and tabs over to Samora's chart. "...Lactate is normal. Oh and - that's not a lab result - whoa that's a sick sword. Why on earth is there a picture of it in her chart?"

     "I asked Pathology to upload one. ...I think probably stuff that was in her room shouldn't be here." He's going to put gloves on to pick it up and carry it back over, you know, in case Marian was keeping all the drawings to refer to later. 

If priests can't get spells here, Marian's reaction would have been more confusion and less "that's too much time". And a couple of the other drawings seemed to be confusing too, so probably she's not as good at communicating in pictures as she thought. Also she never did find out what Marian thought was urgent. Maybe she was trying to say something else and Samora misunderstood? She tries to remember the exact gestures Marian made and whether they could have meant "you can't get your spells back here" . . . 

She doesn't get anywhere useful on this train of thought before the nausea starts coming back and she has to go back to clutching a bag and focusing on her breathing. Marshall is lucky he's immune to this crap.

Oh dear, that's not unexpected but poor Samora. Fraser can go in and give her some Zofran. (She hasn't generally been objecting to them putting things in her central line, so he's going to skip the part where he tries to explain in Charades to a distracted nauseous person what it's for, if it works she'll presumably notice.) 

It makes her less nauseous! Still nauseous, but merely the background unpleasantness kind and not the kind where vomiting is obviously imminent. Her posture relaxes and she smiles at Fraser.

Oh good! Fraser smiles at her and ducks out again. 

...His brain is generating a theory. It's a really stupid theory but he can't actually get it out of his head and it's going to keep bothering him unless he asks, not that he has the slightest idea what he would do with the answer. 

Fraser goes back to the nursing station. "Dr Chadha, are you busy? It's not about 104, I have a dumb question about Dungeons and Dragons." 

     "Yeah? Shoot." 

This is such a stupid theory. "Is there a thing where people can pray to the sun and do magic healing but only when the sun is up?" 

     This gets a short burst of laughter. "...Okay, that's hilarious. Not exactly but in a lot of systems clerics will pray for their spells at dawn? Not to the sun but there's probably a sun-associated god your character could be a cleric of, if you wanted." 

And, indeed, Fraser does not have the slightest idea what to do with his stupid theory now. “Neat. Thanks.”

     “Looking for a game to join? I could put you in touch with my friend—”

“Uh, let me get back to you on that.”

He’s going to go back to sit outside room 104 and mull on how his utterly batshit theory would explain several of the really confusing things, and possibly more of them than that if he actually knew stuff about D&D.

....After a while, when Samora has neither suddenly gotten visibly worse nor tried to get his attention, he shrugs and opens Internet Explorer and googles "dungeons and dragons disease slime". 

Samora is mulling on whether to hold off vomiting again for as long as possible, or vomit now and get it over with. On the one hand, it would buy her a break from being nauseous. On the other hand, vomiting slime is really unpleasant. On the gripping hand, it seems like she's probably accumulating slime at some kind of constant rate, and the longer she waits the more is going to come up at once, and it would be very bad to overshoot the bag capacity. 

Google thinks Fraser might like to read about Slimy Doom. It causes weakness (loss of Constitution), disorientation, bleeding from places nobody should ever be bleeding, and all of one's organs turning into slime. The slime is contagious.

Well that's horrifying!!!

It doesn't fully fit, she's not bleeding - oh wait shit, she did have a bleeding problem when she came in, they were tentatively diagnosing her with DIC and everything, it just - went away - transfusing a lot of plasma doesn't actually fix the underlying mechanism for DIC but maybe it does at least temporarily for magical diseases - 

- this is so stupid - 

She's not particularly disoriented now but she definitely woke up that way...

This theory remains batshit and impossible and so why is he so stressed at the prospect of his patient's organs turning into slime -

- well, hmm, let's see, why might he be stressed about that, what about all the FUCKING SLIME which sure seems to be coming out of her faster and in larger quantities than can reasonably be explained by even a very fast-dividing pathogen and an active immune system generating dead white blood cells...

The last scan was okay so if her organs are disintegrating into slime they're probably not doing it that fast

Arghhhhh!!!! 

...He gets up and goes to find Dr Chadha again. “Hey, can we repeat the coags on 104?”

      “Yeah, go ahead - is there a problem -?”

“Not yet but I have a bad feeling.” He doesn’t have to explain what exactly brought on his bad feeling. “Oh, and if you’ve got a minute soon, it’d be cool if you could draw an explanation for her of what an NG is and how it works? I gave her Zofran but she looks like she’s still not feeling great.” And it’d be good if there were fewer opportunities for the slime to get all over everything.

      “Uh, yeah, sure, I can come in five?”

Fraser goes back to the room and is - going to put on a mask and faceshield just in case before he goes in to draw more blood.

She turns to watch him come in, which preempts her debate in favor of "barfing up slime again right now". She can hang on to the bag until he's done whatever he needs to do with the blood. 

(At least she's not bleeding out of any unreasonable places.)

He hollers for Lisa to come do the sample bag drop maneuver for him again, and then can dispose of the bag for her, again, and get her water, again. 

Maybe she wants to brush her teeth? Probably not if she she still feels sick, but if she’s briefly nausea-free it might make her mouth less horrible. - he can mime what one does with a toothbrush in case she’s from a literal RPG fantasy setting and has never used one before. There are also little things of antibacterial mouthwash in the patient toiletries drawer.

She does not seem to already possess the knowledge of what one does with a toothbrush, but "scrub the foul taste out of her mouth" is an attractive proposition and works pretty well!

 . . . If he points her at the mouthwash and doesn't mime the correct use of it she will drink some.

Is giving it to her along with one of the little kidney basins to spit it out into enough of a hint?

If not he’ll frantically gesture for her to stop drinking it, but probably not fast enough to prevent some of it from being drunk. It’s at least not actually toxic to swallow or anything? Though probably not, uh, good for nausea.

Yeah, no, she can take a hint. Now her mouth tastes like she went to the Osprey and drank three of "whatever's cheapest", which is a vast improvement.

Dr Chadha is, for once, mostly punctual, and makes it there about ten minutes later with a nasogastric tube in its packaging and a drawing he must have done in advance. 

He is pretty good at drawing! He’s drawn a picture - that even looks a bit like Samora - of a person with the tube taped in place and connected to a suction tubing and canister with slime in it, and also an accompanying simplified anatomical diagram in profile that shows where the tube goes down to the stomach.

(Fraser is thinking that Marian would have drawn a puking stick figure with sad faces and then a happy stick figure with a tube in, and he wonders if that wouldn’t have been clearer, but hopefully this will convey what the tube does and Samora can decide for herself if she prefers it to barfing slime every half-hour for probably the entire rest of the night.)

That seems--potentially better than the current situation, but she doesn't want to end up in another situation where she needs someone else's help to get disconnected from all the equipment she's connected to. She no longer expects to want to leave in a hurry, especially not before she's had time to talk to these people with Tongues up, but the thing about emergencies is that you don't expect them.

She draws the anatomical diagram again, this time with her hand pulling the tube out, and then herself smiling holding the disconnected tube. Hmm, maybe that will be read as "if you put that in I intend to pull it out immediately". She adds one of herself smiling with the tube in and a frowning face on her stomach before the other ones, and another smiling face on the stomach of the version pulling the tube out.

This would be a lot more confusing if not for the Foley Incident! Clearly Samora had a bad experience about relying on a stranger to remove things from her body, and wants to check that it won't happen again. ...Fraser likes to think that he's not a stranger anymore and she wouldn't mind - well, hopefully that's true, since he needs to put it in - but fair enough that she might want it out right after a shift change. 

Fortunately, nasogastric tubes are one of the kinds that don't have a balloon holding them in place that needs deflating first! They just slip out! And, like, this isn't a lifesaving measure that will seriously fuck her up if she pulls it out before they tell her it's okay, it's 80% to make her more comfortable and 20% to reduce the odds that one of the nurses gets slimed. He points at her sequence in order and nods and smiles. 

...He doesn't really have a way to convey 'it will be uncomfortable to put in' but hopefully she's, like, expecting that part? 

Yes, it would be very surprising if it wasn't uncomfortable to put in. But it would also be very surprising if it was worse than vomiting! She makes encouraging gestures because "right now while she's at a minimum of nausea" seems like the best time to get it over with.

Also, it's really nice how concerned these near-strangers are with her comfort. She's used to temples that will help anyone who arrives in need but it's rare for this much effort to be available for helping one person and it says good things about this society that they can afford it.

Fraser spent the first ten years of his nursing career in general surgical wards. To the extent that there's a skill involved in placing nasogastric tubes in awake patients, not necessarily painlessly but quickly and down the right hole on the first try, he has it! 

It does make her gag once it gets to the back of her throat, but Fraser mimes for her to swallow - though doesn't wait for her to parse and follow that instruction, he's really quite sure he won't drop it into her lung by mistake - and hopefully she emptied her stomach of slime recently enough that there's still none to come up? 

She takes long enough to realize that he wants her to swallow that it's not as helpful as it could be, but the tube goes where it's supposed to go and does not provoke an attack of opportunity further slime. She coughs once, sort of experimentally, and then nods.

And then it can get taped in place and hooked up to the suction tubing, and hopefully there will be no more slime-vomiting incidents tonight and Samora's mouth can continue tasting like bad hospital mouthwash instead! 

...Fraser is perhaps paying an unreasonable amount of attention to whether the tube placement is going to give her a nosebleed, or whether she's showing any signs of starting to bleed from other orifices. 

Nope! Her blood is staying right where they put it, or at least is only moving around in the ways blood should.

Does Fraser seem like he has important things he would like to be doing, or like he's not in any hurry and it's a good time to ask him non-urgent picture-based questions?

It’s a fine time to be asking him not-especially-urgent picture-based questions! (He’s kinda stressed about her specifically, but he doesn’t have other patients or anything.)

In that case she would like to learn more about this building complex! She looks through the by now several pages of old drawings until she finds the one Marian drew of the building and the symbol on it and draws it again. Draws a little group of lying-down frowning-faced stick figures, an arrow going from it to the building, another arrow going from the building to a little group of smiling standing stick figures. Decides there really isn't a better way to ask "how many" than getting shared number symbols and writes the digits for 0 through 9 each defined by a group of dots. Draws a line above each group of stick figures that she hopes it's clear is for writing numbers on. Adds a little group of suns below the building and another line for a number. When she shows it to Fraser she taps the number definitions and then each of the three lines, which she hopes will make it clear she's looking for numbers. She's not sure how to clarify that she knows the answers will necessarily be approximate, but hopefully Fraser will be willing to give her a rough guess anyway.