"I am! Sure, I will sign your medical tape for you once you're set," she says, managing a smile. On one hand: she is doing triage and is very busy, and her backlash is hovering over everything like the worst thundercloud of all time. On the other hand: it is objectively pretty cool to be recognized and bring honor to healers everywhere. And, also, signing medical tape is a ridiculous enough notion that it flips towards being an amusing distraction from the agonizing pain instead of a reason to bite heads off. Also: this is a patient, and she tries not to kill those. Just as a rule.
"Hold still, this will not hurt, but it will feel weird." Nerves giving pain feedback in this region: offline. And then, with her power showing where everything is on the inside, she lines up the rogue bit of bone with her two thumbs, and manually moves it to where it needs to be. Which is to say: she shoves it back to its home with two thumbs in a way that is really not recommended in most medical situations. As promised, it doesn't hurt. (Which is good, because if she hadn't turned off the pain feedback, hooo boy.)
Then she uses just enough of her power to - well, it's not really gluing it back together, but sticking the bit of bone back to itself with some squidgy bone bits (the technical term for it is chondroblast). Just a little, right in the middle, so it doesn't get any terrible ideas about wandering off again. And then she tapes the whole ankle right up so that nothing potentially jostles her very duct tape and bubble gum of a healing solution.
Then, as promised, she signs it with a little Uisa, just after the hangul of her actual name.
"'Kay, you're good, into the circle with you." By wheelchair. Obviously. "The pain will come back over time steadily as my nerve zapping fades, and absolutely no moving that ankle."