At some point the sedation transitioned into regular sleep, but Marian touching her hand wakes her up. 

She orients more quickly, this time. Everything is the same but she feels differently horrible and is more effectively strapped to the surface she's on, which is completely to be expected. Maybe if she pretends to be worse off than she is she'll get some time unobserved to start working on the restraints. Her eyes open just a crack, enough to get a blurry sense of the general sort of room she's in, and then fall shut again.

Okay, that looks like - a little more responsive, which is a good sign, but not fully conscious yet? 

How much does she respond to having her nailbed pinched? 

They won't catch her out that way; she's had way worse. She barely twitches.

(The Inheritor gave Samora the powers She believed would be the most effective, and Samora will not question Her wisdom, but it would be really nice to have a paladin's perfect fearlessness right now.)

In that case Marian is going to go on believing her patient is mostly unconscious! Though, like, surprisingly so given that Marian is pretty sure she was moving spontaneously at least a little bit? 

…She’s still going to talk to her, though. “Sorry about that. My name is Marian and I’m your nurse - you’re in the ICU, you were badly hurt and just had surgery - we’re going to give you something for pain, okay, so you'll be more comfortable..." 

Kristy and a bag of fentanyl and IV tubing make it over well before a resident does to look at the horrifying drainage. "Hey, sorry, they're doing a procedure in 101, it'll be like five minutes." 

Marian would prefer SOONER THAN THAT but sure, okay, the patient is not in fact unstable at this point there’s just clearly a problem. “Uh, I think the order parameters start at 25 mcg/h but that’s, like, almost homeopathic, I kinda want to start at 50 and go down if her blood pressure isn’t coping…”

Samora lies motionless and attempts to assemble various facts into a coherent picture. She's restrained and has various devices attached to her. None of the people who have come near her while she's awake read Evil, and none have reacted at all to her Protection from Evil aura (which was down while she was actually unconscious, but is back up now). They've taken her weapons, armor, boots, Cloak of Resistance, and Belt of Strength, but not her Headband of Wisdom or her holy symbol. That last makes no sense and if she was a little less drained and exhausted and a little more cunning maybe she'd be able to figure out why. Did Tris do something to disguise them somehow, but wasn't able to get her out? Is someone here trying to help her? The person who spoke to her in a strange language had a kind voice, and picked an oddly harmless way to hurt her, but that's not enough evidence to trust her.

Kind-voice fiddles with something and there's a weird sensation from the tube going into Samora's arm. A few minutes later, she feels . . . less pain than she was previously? That's unexpected and probably good but she goes over all her thought processes with a suspicious eye, looking for anything that might be the result of a mind-affecting potion. Everything seems fine, but she can't be certain of that; her will has to be seriously weakened right now. Still, it's a piece of evidence that kind-voice might secretly be on her side. If only she could recognize that language--it's not Taldane or Celestial, she's heard enough Necril to be pretty sure it wasn't that even though she only knows like six actual words of Necril . . . maybe it was Undercommon? This sort of thing was always Tris' or Marshall's job, and she simultaneously wishes they were here and hopes they're safe in Otari.

It's more like ten minutes before anyone comes to see her patient. Marian paces and takes another blood sugar and watches her patient's vital signs closely. Is her blood pressure holding up with the fentanyl? Is her temperature stabilizing at 99.8 or continuing to go up? 

- she also obsessively refreshes the computer, and will see right away when the repeat coagulation panel comes back. 

Her blood pressure is stable, but her temperature is up to 100.4. The coagulation panel looks a lot better when it finally arrives, though.

That's...confusing (DIC does not normally get better) but Marian is certainly not complaining. Maybe the first set of tests was wrong somehow - no, she also got in report that the patient was in fact bleeding uncontrollably with basically no clotting activity - and the D-dimer is still positive... Shrug. Right now it's not something wrong and other things are wrong and it can wait. 

A harassed-looking resident does eventually arrive. "Someone said you were worried about the drainage, is it– holy shit, what is that?" 

"I don't know! I noticed it pretty suddenly, like, ten or fifteen minutes ago? She's spiking a fever and looks - worse -" 

Wow. Okay. He...had better have a look at the incision site? 

Her incision site is also weeping horrible slime! When the dressing comes off and some of it hits the air they will discover it also smells like something fell in a bog and died.

(Samora hears a new voice say something shocked and the potential-ally voice say something nervous and then one of the horrible devices stuck in her is prodded and it smells like one of the necromancer's disgusting puppet creatures. She holds very still and has an internal debate with herself about whether, should the two people start fighting, she should (or can) attempt to intervene on kind-voice's side.)

That’s so alarming and upsetting! Marian has about 10% of a normal human sense of smell (honestly fortunate in her line of work) and even she can smell it, and bile does not smell like that! Nothing she’s ever seen come out of a human body smells like that! Aaaaah! 

The resident swallows hard, like someone unfortunate enough to have nausea hooked up to his sense of smell. “Oh. That’s - bad. I…think I should go get Dr Harrison.”

“Yeah. I think you should do that.”

Thoooough from experience, that might still somehow take another ten or twenty minutes.

“- Uh, I think we should do another set of labs.” It’s only 3:45 pm but she does NOT want to wait until 6 pm. “And should I give her another liter of fluids? Her BP is already marginal and if she’s going septic now…”

At least she already has orders for a second pressor, and if she’s remembering right, dopamine is maybe actually pretty good for sepsis? 

“- oh and IV Tylenol? Her temp is going up really fast and I don’t have anything ordered?”

“….Uh, yeah, that sounds good.” 

The resident leaves.

Marian is going to put in verbal orders and then do everything she can without leaving the room, which involves drawing labs - tubes are in the top drawer, though running low - and hanging another 1L bolus of saline in a pressure bag, using the replacement bag she had hanging for maintenance fluids. 

…Oh and she should probably cover up the disgusting weeping incision site before she leaves the room to send the lab tubes and obtain IV Tylenol. She still has no inkling that her patient is anything other than thoroughly sedated on 2 mg/h of midazolam and 50 mcg/h of fentanyl, but she still reflexively apologizes and explains what she’s doing, since if the patient were awake she’s sure it would really fucking hurt. 

- and then she does actually have to leave. Hopefully it’ll only be for, like, 90 seconds? The patient’s vital signs are still unchanged except for her temperature, and if she does suddenly start crashing, the alarms will go off at the nursing station as well as here.

She does not start crashing! She counts the desired number of sets of footsteps leaving the room and the door closing, opens one eye a crack and pretends to shift in her sleep enough to become confident the room is probably empty, then takes stock of her situation in more detail and starts working on her restraints. By the time Marian gets back, she's gotten her arms free, pulled out her breathing tube and art line, ripped the central line tubing apart between the pole and the taped area rather than spend time figuring it out, and is in the middle of figuring out what in blazes is going on in her nether regions. 

(Also, she had a look at the rest of herself, and whoever pulled a chunk of her guts out and sewed it into place like that can rot in the Abyss.)

What the - 

- all right, focus on the priorities -

There are basically no vital signs up on the monitor except temperature (it’s the continuous Foley catheter probe and the patient seems inclined to go for that next but hasn’t, in fact, yanked it out yet.)

Marian doesn’t have a BP reading because the patient ripped out her art line, but the bleeding from the art line site doesn't look too horrific and clearly she in fact has a BP sufficient to be awake, sitting up, and pulling out tubes. She super doesn't have a SpO2 reading and she's worried about that, given how the patient also clearly just self-extubated, but it's probably not life-threatening on the scale of seconds or even minutes, her main problems aren't respiratory. The heart monitor tracing is confused and showing only artifact but clearly the patient's heart is beating. 

All of this goes through Marian's mind in less than two seconds, and then her main concern is the central line, which is a) slowly leaking venous blood out the broken tube ends, and b) no longer running the fluid bolus, or the still-maxed-out norepinephrine drip that was keeping the patient's blood pressure up until now.

Actually the main problem here might be that the patient seems disoriented and terrified and is probably going to kick Marian in the ribs if she tries to get any closer to deal with this situation? 

This is going to be self-resolving, if her blood pressure drops enough now that she's not getting any fluids or pressors, and also they can't keep giving her IV dextrose shut up Marian's brain, that is a BAD solution. 

...She's going to approach slowly, hands held up and looking as calm as she can manage given how not-okay the situation is. "Hey, I need you to calm down - you're in the intensive care unit, you just had surgery - you were getting some drugs to help your blood pressure and I really need to fix your central line so I can put that back -" 

Okay, that's pretty good evidence that kind-voice is willing to ally with her, which makes the language issue way more pressing. She makes the I'm-not-armed gesture back.

"I don't speak that language. Do you speak Taldane?" And then in Celestial, "Do you speak Celestial?"

(She's handling the sudden absence of pressors fairly well, for the moment, thanks to the home-made adrenaline.)