Heal Thyself

( All about Hip )

St. Mungo's

Alright, what joker said that the epidemic is nearly over? It wasn't me, in case you were wondering, and Skeeter never asked me anything. I suppose she got it from my journal entries. It could have been worse. Regardless, if that article does jinx us, I'm going to find whoever said it and have a discussion with them.

St. Mungo's

I don't want to jinx us, but I actually got sleep last night. Is it a fluke or is it a good sign?

Also, best of luck to those who are going to speak with the Minister today. If he takes away Henchley, I will personally write him a thank you letter. And offer him my first born. Okay, perhaps not the latter, but definitely the first. I was hoping he'd just stop showing up once Fancourt left, honestly. Pity my hope was misplaced.

Doris

Drinks soon? I actually feel like my head is only a few inches below water. I should be bobbing to the surface for a breath of actual air sometime in the next week or so.

So what's been happening in the world while I was either dealing with green pustuled people or trying to sleep? Anything momentous? Please update me as I feel rather out of the loop.

Bloody hell, I'm tired.

Perhaps I'm too far removed from adolescence (and thank all the gods for that), but I don't remember ever wanting to snog someone so bad I was willing to overlook a greenish tinge to her skin. Ever. I can't imagine being that randy intent on a kiss. I'll turn to the general knowledge of the journals and ask you this: has it ever seemed like a good idea to drag your significant other behind the greenhouse when they, too, are green?

For the record, the answer should be 'no'. However, there is one enterprising young lady who did just that. Her boyfriend was brought in a few hours ago and now she is also here because she thought a kiss would make him better and that it would go away. And then when he sneezed and shot sparks out his nose, they attributed it being such a good kiss that they 'saw the sparks between them'. That's a direct quote. Honestly. While I appreciate the romanticism of such a thought, I have to point out it's sheer idiocy.

It also seems that my patience for teenagers is a good deal less than it has been in the past. Are they always this obstinate? I suppose I always thought that my siblings were just trying to get a rise out of me or my parents, but it seems to be a universal ailment, and one that I don't think we have a cure for. More's the pity.

The moral of this story - if you or your loved one is green, other than in envy, get to the hospital.

St. Mungo's Employees and Volunteers

Anyone other than Mrs. Tonks and myself get the third degree from Henchley today? Bloody hell is that man obnoxious. Why would I need to steal the potions? I can bloody well make them myself. There'd be no purpose to do that - none at all. And when I tried to point this out to him, he threatened to write me up. Can he do that? I don't think he has the authority. Merlin knows he doesn't have the empathy or sense of a Cornish pixie. If he did, he wouldn't have said all that in front of a patient. Good thing the man's been in before and knows me otherwise he might have been right worried about having a possible potions fiend for a healer.

Private to St. Mungo's (excluding Peakes)

So, has everyone heard the rumor that Peakes is going to be forced to retire? I can't say I'm happy to see him go, though he isn't the administrator he once was. Then again, with him allowing Henchley to breathe down our necks, he's not exactly my favorite person.

And while we're on the subject, how the bloody hell did Henchley discover the missing potions? Who's taking them? I haven't seen any dodgy people about - at least no dodgier than usual.

</ward>


Anyone care for a pint later today? My brother's driving me mad, as per usual, and I need to get out of the flat before he tells me - again - about this upcoming Quidditch season. It's not that I don't like Quidditch because I do, but he's told me the same thing four times now. For the record, I agree that Falmouth looks good for the cup this season. I just don't think he hears me when I agree with him.

St. Mungo's

Bloody effing hell, what crawled up Henchley's arse and died? He just spent the last twenty minutes peering over my shoulder, offering "constructive criticism" and scowling at my patient and me. It was a simple kneazle bite and Henchley was so bloody negative that it made it seem like the poor bloke was going to have to lose his arm. Poor man - the patient, not Henchley - nearly had a heart attack. He even asked if I was a trainee when I said it wasn't a bad case!

This is beyond the pale. Can we register a complaint with someone? Anyone? His presence is hurting our patients' confidence in our abilities and is really starting to grate on my nerves.

I'd register my complaint with Peakes, but I haven't seen him today. Usually he pops round once or twice by now. Anyone know where I might find him?

So the Quidditch season is coming up. As always, my loyalties are divided between the Harpies and Falmouth. I've got a soft spot for the Arrows, too.

Would anyone be interested in a few pick-up games in anticipation of the season? It might be fun.

St. Mungo's

Any injuries yet? Has anyone been called in out of schedule?

[Private]

The past forty eight hours have been the worst I've ever had in the hospital. Dozens of injuries from sheep, cows, tigers and bloody awful snakes. I haven't slept more than two hours at a stretch, and even that was too long for the work we have to do yet. I'm not the only one, though, but I don't know if we can handle another night of this without going mad. We will, if need be, but too many more and the healers will start dropping from exhaustion.

[St. Mungo's]

If one more idiot tells me that they thought they'd just do a bit more work before coming in with whatever injury they have, I might just hex him.

This last one got bit by a crup a week ago and didn't come in two nights ago or last night because of all the upset. It's infected now and he might lose part of his leg. Fucking morons.

I need a drink.

Think the Leaky will send in fish and chips if we ask? I, for one, don't want to leave just to be called back if there are more attacks tonight.

[Public]

I didn't think I would ever have to say this, but judging from the sheer stupidity on the part of numerous of my current patients, it's clear that it's necessary.

IF YOU ARE BITTEN, RUN OVER, SCRATCHED OR SPIT ON BY AN ANIMAL - MAGICAL OR NOT - GO TO THE DAMN HOSPITAL IMMEDIATELY.

It's easier to treat you, you heal faster, and you're not in pain for hours on end while you try to be a bloody hero.

I was quite saddened to hear last night as the rumors flooded the hospital from the Prophet this morning that I was not incorrect about seeing Miss Branstone in St. Mungo's. That Mr. Lestrange has died as well only compounds the tragedy.

My deepest sympathies go out to the families of both Colleen Branstone and Dieter Lestrange.

I go to sleep and the journals are quiet and awake to a veritable outcry. I've found that the various reactions to the article quite interesting reading over my eggs and toast. Thank you, all, for that, and thank you, Miss Branstone, for providing the fodder for it, even if it was a rather stupid thing to do. I'm all for expressing one's opinions, but painting a target on oneself is foolish in the extreme. I do hope I don't see you in the hospital in the near future, so do take care.

[Warded to St. Mungo's Employees]

Unfortunately, I can't see this incident ending well, unless I've drastically misjudged these Death Eaters. I doubt very much that it will contain itself to talk on the journals. I think we ought to prepare ourselves for a few more emergencies than we usually have - even in recent months. Really, our jobs would be so much easier if people would stop being so bloody stupid.

That's too much to ask, though, it seems. All we can do is be aware of what's going on so we can prepare. I, for one, am going to bring an extra set robes and a pillow.