The patient boards flickered slightly as a data link was cut off. For about 20 seconds the screen went blank and then displayed a connection message before the numbers and names and conditions and lives returned to the screen.
Some people would have been shocked at the large surge in casualty numbers that the reboot had brought, but of course the staff at the hospital knew better than that and nobody took a blind bit of notice of the board. They were all just a tad busy preparing beds and dosing up on stimulants to keep them going through the wave of work heading their way.
Two small sirens beeped. The first patient got wheeled in. He was an old-ish man who'd taken at least 4 shards to the side from a first glance, and worse he had another two buried deep into his flesh. The man was struggling to breathe and his skin around the wounds was already putrid.
"No" said the doctor, which the man just about picked up on before he was knocked out by the mask thrown over his face. He clearly didn't have a clue about what the hospital policy was for people in a hard (or rather time consuming) state to treat before they came in, and he took it as a sign that he was going to be left to die. It wasn't the case of course - for the time being at least - but he wasn't going to be around for a while.
He was taken to the cyro chamber, where one doctor could "treat" many patients, or at least stop them from dying, before another could get to work on their first case. When the rush calmed down, the patients could be unfrozen and treated. At least in theory they could, but in reality the calm period never came and there were people who had been out for months now, the old or very sick who didn't have a lot of hope compared to the unlucky mothers or the shrapnel catchers who might only have taken a shard or two.
A number winked off of the board, to reappear in a long queue of freezers waiting for reanimation.