Swamped

"That box," you say, glancing at it. "What's in there? It looks like throwing blades."

"That's because it is. We use them for surgery. They're sharp enough to pierce skin, but not as dangerous as a standard knife if you don't actually throw them." She winces a little. "I know I'm not happy having weapons around, though. Wish someone would make a knife specifically for surgery."

You thought they had one. Doc was always complaining she could never get a turn at the whetstone to sharpen hers.

Oh, wait. Maybe it's a more recent invention than you realized. Hard to see why, though - it's basically just a fancy knife.

"I guess they haven't made one because you don't get a lot of surgeons who are also blacksmiths," you muse. "So the surgeons don't know enough about smithing to make the sort of tool they'd find useful, and the blacksmiths don't know enough about surgery to understand what sort of cuts need to be made."

She has a thoughtful look on her face. Oh hells. Did you give her an idea? You really don't want to worry about this sort of time travel nonsense. Should have kept your fool mouth shut. And a quick change of subject might be the best way to get her mind off it - luckily, you're already in the middle of something, so that's easy enough.

"Shouldn't forget, I already put a board over the hole. We're going to have to move that first." You get a thought. "Hold on, why aren't these right by the latrines? That would make this a lot easier."

"We don't normally need the latrines covered."

"Yeah, but when you do, might as well have a quick way to do it. I mean, what else are you going to use these things for?"