This is a text version of the original still airing imaged, music soundtracked story. Emergency Theater Live, Episode Fifty 50. The Other Side. Season Seven - Episode 50 Short summary- Station 51 squirms under a lull of no calls as Rampart becomes the eye of the action hurricane. The staff of both struggles to help a crisis with Nurse Sharon Walters. ****WARNING**** The long summary to come is very story spoiling and will take away plot surprises if you read it now before reading the longer story below it. Decide now if you want to read this episode's detailed summary before doing so. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Long Summary- A day of null action spices up when technology is more attractive to a victim than self preservation when the driver hits the squad. Life is anything but normal when Station 51 responds to a traffic accident only to realize the first responder is dispatcher Sam Lanier. Sam sticks around once another car joins the fray. At Rampart, the fight is on to save Sharon Walter's life in the middle of an unusually quiet day. Then the hospital faces its own crisis when a minor earthquake reeks havoc on vital areas. Doctor Morton takes command when Joe and Kel are caught in the middle of the mess. Guess who saves the day? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . The Story Unfolds... Season Six, Episode Fifty §§ The Other Side §§ Debut Launch: December 16th, 2007. ************************************************** From: Mark Panitz Date: Fri Dec 14, 2007 6:42 pm Subject: False Alarms It was a cold winter day. Roy and Gage were griping about how cold it was for the week. Then the tones rang on. Station 51 responded to a traffic accident at 5th and Alameda that had persons reported as being trapped with fire involved. The boys ran to the rigs and soon rolled out of the ramp. --------------------------------------------------------------------- It took them about five minutes to reach the scene, but there was nothing there! Nobody was hanging around, except for some kids on the corner. And they looked bored. Captain Stanley got on the radio. "L.A. , Station 51 at scene. Uh, this an false alarm." ##10-4, 51.## L.A. copied. "Station 51, returning to quarters." Cap returned back. Gage was fuming. "Roy. This makes it the fifth false alarm today!" Roy agreed. "Yes, these false alarms cost us plenty. Let’s just hope we don’t have a false alarm in our territory when something else for real happens on the other side." Johnny was too worked up to comment. ------------------------------------------------- Later on, after lunch, Roy and Gage ran out to Rampart to pick up more medical supplies. They found Kel and Dixie taking a coffee break. Then as soon as they tried to get some coffee, the tones rang out again. ##Squad 51, Engine 7, Trucks 8 and 10. Respond to a structure fire. 3700 West Sunset Blvd. Cross street, Malibu.## “Responding from Rampart." replied Roy on the HT. ##10-4, Squad 51.## L.A. replied. Roy and Gage jogged to their squad with an apologetic shrug to McCall and Brackett and they rolled out code R. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was rush hour and people were in a hurry. The squad approached an intersection with lights and siren on full blast. They approached it slowly as Roy checked, they had green lights as they went though it. A car driven by person on a newly wired in car phone rolled right through the red. The car hit the squad just beyond the right door where they kept the biophone. Grunting in reaction, DeSoto and Gage knew that their own impact hadn’t been that severe. Roy was able to pull the squad to the curb. "L.A ., Squad 51. We've just been involved in a minor T.A. at Vermont and 120th. Uh,..we are checking on the other vehicle right now." ##L.A. Squad 51. Advise of victim status.## Gage and Roy went to check on the other person in the car. It was a woman who was very apologetic. "I’m sorry I hit you guys. I’m not hurt. I’m just sorry I didn’t even hear your siren or see the traffic light. I was yelling at my boyfriend on my new phone here. Like it?" Then over the radio channel, they all heard. ##L.A. This is Engine 8. Our structure fire report is unfounded. There is no fire at this location.## came a captain's voice. L.A. responded back. ##10-4, Engine 8. All units responding to the structure fire with engine 8; return to quarters.## Now even Roy was fuming. "What? ANOTHER FALSE ALARM?" he yelled in annoyance from where he was leaning on the woman's car door. Gage was not laughing. "What are we going do about this?" he said of their winning day so far. DeSoto sighed tiredly when he knew his partner didn't mean the squad's newly damaged chassis at all. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Photos: None. ************************************************** From: patti keiper Date: Sun Jan 20, 2008 5:30 pm Subject: Any Penny Annie Port In The Storm Roy moved back to the woman driver's side. As he peeked in, a chamois sweatered arm snaked out of the window and waved something in front of his eyes. It was an insurance card elegantly perched between long, red polished fingernails. She said. "Don't you need to see this, Mr. Fireman?" Then, just as fast, she started yelling into her expensive car phone. "I heard you, Marvin. THEY were the ones speeding, not me." she declared, twisting the phone cord sticking out of the dash board nervously. Gage made a face where he was standing on the sidewalk. "We were answering a rescue call, lady! You know, with our red flashing lights and everything? Didn't you see that your stoplight was on? We had the right of way and we were going the posted speed limit." The primped up driver looked at him askance. She snapped her gum and batted long eye lashes at Johnny after pulling away the phone receiver from her ear to get away from her irate boyfriend's voice. "Marvin says I should talk to my lawyer before I talk to you." Roy's mouth flopped open, but for a different reason. "Johnny!" he shouted, pointing to a thick trickle of smoke snaking out from under the hood of the woman's grill cracked car. Gage startled. Then he stuffed himself into the sedan long enough to pull the hood's release handle. The woman smothered an angry reaction. "Hey! What do you think you're--" Johnny and Roy ignored her and together, they hastily yanked up the hood. Roy hurried to the back of the squad and snatched up a fire extinguisher. Gage started yelling. "Ma'am! Get out of the car! It's on fire here. It could be near a fuel line!" he hollered from behind the hood. "What?" she asked, still glued to the phone and her furious boyfriend's tirade. "Marvin! Marv-- I've got to go, love. The cute one says the motor's caught a bit and I don't mean it's idling. But it looks like it's under control. It's nice to see our tax payer dollars at work. These fire guys are really fast." Annoyed, Johnny ripped out the wires connecting the battery to the rest of the car's electrical system as DeSoto coated the engine block with a thick cloud of repellent powder. The lady was obvious to what they were doing. "Marv? Marv? Are you still there?" she peeped. Johnny finally got fed up with her, opened the car door, grabbed a hold of the woman's arm, and flung her unceremoniously over his shoulder to get her to the safety of the nearby sidewalk. The woman screeched in startled surprise and she finally dropped the phone before the cord, stretching out after them, reached the snapping point. Roy's muffled voice finally gave a verdict. "That was the oil pan. There was some bare wiring taped up next to it in some kind of--" his comment trailed off when the lady Gage had set down on the lawn started laughing in embarrassment. She plunked down onto the grass onto her butt. "That was... M-Marvin.." she snorted, chortling. "I told him to follow the instructions for installing that new phone. But did he read them?" she shrugged, out of control with her amusement. "No." she mouthed. Gage just raised his eyebrows and set his hands onto his hips. He turned his head guardedly off her towards Roy. "Do we need the engine at all?" he glared, still irritated. "Nah. There's no gas smell. What you're seeing dripping now is all from the radiator." he sighed, brushing white powder off the front of his shirt absently. Right about then, Vince Howard arrived and headed straight for the woman sitting on the lawn after he had parked a safe distance away from the accident scene. "Is she hurt?" "Not a bit. She's all right." Roy said, shaking his head. Gage mumbled under his breath over the woman's still hysterical laughter. "Physically, anyway. Don't know about the rest if you know what I mean." he hissed, smiling professionally with closed teeth. Vince relaxed, amused. "What happened?" Both paramedics opened their mouths to say something, but then thought better of it. At a loss for just how to begin, they just shrugged, indicating the giggling lady driver at their feet dramatically with a sarcastic gesture. The lady wiped away laughing tears, imagining what her bumbling non mechanic boyfriend's reaction going on was right then over the dead car phoneline. She finally looked up. "I think I'm the best one to explain that. Come here.." she burbled, tugging on Vince's pants leg from where she still sat Indian style. Sighing, Vince squatted down onto his toes at her side to start taking down her statement. Roy and Johnny circled the hapless telephone wired car once more to be sure their handiwork was going to last. Afterwards, they took a seat on top of the squad's hood to await Vince's damage to vehicle photo taking. Gage nudged Roy. "What?" DeSoto asked, still upset that they still had to deal with their current annoyance. "Flip ya for being the one to get out of telling Charlie about our scratched up fender.." DeSoto didn't move or even blink. "I outrank ya. Have fun." he said, crossing his arms over his elbows, still not looking at his partner. "But.." Roy grinned just then and reached into the squad cab for the radio mic by feel alone. He thumbed the toggle. " L.A. Our minor MVA is a non-injury. However, a citizen tow is definitely gonna be needed." he reported. ##Squad 51.## At that, the woman on the ground fell into another bout of guffaws, completely lost in absolute abandon. Smiling and getting infected by her sense of the ridiculous, DeSoto passed off the radio mic to Johnny, so he could follow the next bit of protocol. "Oh, wonderful." Johnny swallowed miserably. "I really hate doing this." he said, referring to contacting the vehicle shop for an emergency stop checkup. Roy conmiserated. "Don't we all?" ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The gang was still actively hiding from Charlie's loud streaming colorful vocabulary as he popped out the squad's dented side and reapplied fresh touch up paint after his meticulous brand of sanding. Even Boot was buried underneath the couch, completely out of sight from all eyes. Cap leaned into his men where they were hungrily digging into lunch. "You're positive it's not your fault?" he asked Roy and Johnny timidly. "Absolutely." "Without a doubt." they both said empathetically. Hank smiled weakily. "Okay, uh.. I guess I'll go try and shut him up with a bowl of chowder. Think it'll work?" Gage grinned. "It worked with calming Joe Early down when he was so restless recovering at Rampart following his heart attack." Stanley was unappeased. "Yeah, well, Charlie hasn't HAD one yet." Marco sniggered. "Trust your own cooking, Cap. There isn't a fireman alive who doesn't feel better after filling his stomach on your soup. Isn't that right, guys?" "Yeah,..yeah.." nodded Gage. "Sure is." said Stoker. "That's true." said Chet. Cap sighed and picked up the snack tray he had prepared for the grumpy mechanic. "Okay, here I go. Uh,.. you guys have prior permission to treat me for burns if he lobs this right back at me out there." said Cap as he headed for the vehicle bay with their peace offering. He slowly left the kitchen. Expectantly, the gang scrambled to place ears against the door and window to eavesdrop on the outcome. It was one that came fast and surprised them all. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Joe Early sighed when two charts smacked down onto the counter top next to where he sat on the stool in front of the reception desk Dixie was manning in Emergency. "That's it?" he asked her. "That's it, sadly enough." she remarked, bored, eyeing up the empty and silent waiting room. "And those only need additional orders from you on followup antibiotics. Father and daughter were both admitted to the floor an hour ago." Early smiled, rubbing the rings on his fingers. "Okay, if I stretch it, and write real slow, I'll be preoccupied for a full half minute." he said with exaggerated enthusiasm. Dixie chortled softly. "You know, I used to dream about having a day as quiet as this one once. And now that I've got it, I keep wishing a catastrophe or two would strike out there so I won't fall asleep on you." Early took sympathy on his head nurse and slid his untouched stars and stripes bicentennial mug of hot coffee over to her."You all is a grand total of two doctors on the floor. Me and--" "Dr. Morton, I know." she sighed. "At least one of us three has found something productive to do around here. He's in Treatment One." Joe joined her in a like slump on his stool as he finished updating his meager pile of patient charts. "Oh, yeah? What's he doing?" he asked curiously, admiring the neat rows of narcotics Dixie had already alphabetized inside the metal cabinet behind her. They were precisely spaced by user date. "He's testing all the defibrillators we have." she grinned secretly. Joe blinked. "We only have four. That'll take only about as many minutes to do." Dixie clarified, her smile getting bigger. "That's all of them, Joe. All of them everywhere. Hospital wide." Joe's eyes lit up with new appreciation. "Ooooo, what a mystery to solve. I don't think ANYone really knows how many crash carts we actually have floating around. Does he have a locations diagram?" "Nope." Dixie chuckled. "Even better. I...think I'll go join him." Early said, polishing off his newly poured cup of coffee quickly. Dixie immediately fluttered. "Oh, no... Joe.. Don't leave me down here all by myself. I'll go stir crazy." she moaned. Early waved goodbye as he wandered down the hall towards Treatment One. "You're a big girl. I think you can handle it." he winked, abandoning her lonely work station. "Rats.." McCall sighed, melting back onto her chin and elbows."So I'm stuck holding the fort again." Longingly, Dixie eyed up the quiescent paramedic base station, using every optimistic and encouraging thought in her arsenal, to will the buzzer light into life. ::Please, please, please...:: she thought. But it went on ignoring her in stony silence. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Doctor Morton was efficient. He was pushing around just the head and chest of a resuscitation manikin, parked on a wheel chair fitted with thick rubber wheels. He had it hooked up to an EKG simulator control box that could mimick shockable rhythms. To his credit, he showed no reaction when Joe arrived to bug the h*ll out of him. Mike was a rock when he realized that his senior preceptor was going to glom onto the chore that he thought would be his all night by the virtue of solo discovery. He didn't even look up or offer any resistance as he ran the unit through its paces. "Room enough for two, Joe. Which do you want to be? Paddle man or code master." Early looked properly meek. "Can I have the box?" "It's all yours.." said Morton, handing it over. "Try a junctional. Mac said the sync was touchy at beats that were forty or lower.." Joe raised his eyebrows, thinking. ::An orderly bored enough to offer machine maintenance concerns? Wow. Guess this patient drought's lasting longer than I expected.:: he mused. He spoke aloud. "Touchy as in how? As in a defib that won't synchronize capture? Or as in not maintaining regularity afterwards in a pace?" "The latter. Off by five beats over a period of one minute intervals. It's fluctuating high and low counts inside of that range." Morton replied. "Did he leave an extra strip from the last code run off the machine?" "Yep. Take a look." Mike said, handing off the roll he had stuffed into his white tunic's front pocket. "See the bad spikes? I marked them at the full second ticks. The off-cycle lasts about a minute every four into this man's difficulty. The sync fired in at diapause instead of during AV nodal depolarization." "Hmm, sounds like a sensor issue." Joe said, setting a slow weak beat of thirty on the controller. "Coordinating like that would double the intended pulse rate." he theorized. "It did." said Mike empathetically. "Sync on 70 jumped to 140 in actual, scaring the cardiac team into thinking they were on the verge of an allergic reaction to the atropine." "Do you have a bioengineer on the way to recalibrate this?" "I called the moment I ran into Mac and got word in the cafeteria at lunch." Joe frowned and studied his watch. "Mike, that was a full two hours ago. Where is he?" he asked, growing a bit angry at the danger the malfunction could have had in that time period. Morton stayed Early's hand on the phone that he was about to use to start rattling some cages. "Uh, Joe. Our man's not at fault for a no-show. Remember the name Ashby?" he asked. Joe nodded. "Yeah, that's--" "A recent E.R. admit of yours. A t.i.a." Joe sighed. "I thought he looked familiar." Mike grinned, and took the phone receiver out of Joe's hand. "How's he doing?" he asked as he hung it up back on the wall. Joe nodded satisfactorily. "He's responded to medications one hundred percent. " Joe answered. "He should be back on his feet in week." "Oh. Uh, that's great." Morton replied, trying to muster up enthusiasm. "So...what do we do about our datascope's little sync problem here?" he wondered, running the malfunction algorithm again to re-pinpoint the problem more clearly. Joe thought hard. "Uh, park a peds cart in here with a tag to direct the next code team to its still good sync button unit." "And how do we mark this one?" Mike said, pointing to the flashing yellow toggle not working in front of them. Joe shrugged and grabbed a set of Magill forceps from the cart's top metal utensil drawer. Using them deftly, he clamped down and yanked off the button's plastic square cover with a pop that left just the toggleless hole behind. Smiling, Morton covered up the missing button's space with a smiley face bandaid from his pocket. He followed up with a note scrawled onto a spare toe tag telling users to switch to the peds sync on the adjacent cart. Joe picked up the phone by their heads. "Hello, operator? This is Dr. Early. Have an orderly locate a spare pediatrics defib. We need to have it in Treatment One on standby in less than five minutes." he told her, thinking about liability. "Thanks." Early said, and then he hung up. He rubbed his hands together happily. "One cart down with an unknown number to go..." he said cheerily. Morton's eyes matched the gleam in Joe's eager ones. "Let's go find the rest, shall we?" Bundling up the testing leads back onto the electronic dummy's wheelchair, Joe spoke. "Care to wager how many we'll eventually find?" Early challenged. "What's the prize?" "A weekend off. The loser works for the winner." Joe anted. "You're on." Morton accepted playfully. "Closest guess wins." Joe chuckled, getting excited. "Sounds good." said Mike as they exited the room. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kel Brackett was sleeping soundly on a gurney in the resident's bunk. He had reached a break in this surgical schedule's rotation and was catching up on his debt of days worth of poor sleep. *Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.* Brackett groaned, jerking awake as his next conscious thought was to check the newly commissioned pager that he was wearing on his pocket. "Who is it?" he mumbled, wiping moisture off his sagging mouth. Sitting up, he eyeballed himself accidently in the mirror hanging on the wall and startled with a cry. ::That's me?:: he thought in horror. ::My G*d. I look dead!:: he quailed sleepily, still emotionally vulnerable with fatigue. The person outside finally spoke. "Dr. Brackett? It's Nurse Sharon. Sorry to bother you, doctor, but I think I've found out something kind of important for all of us to know." "Oh?" asked Kel, yanking open the door. He winced at the swathe of light that immediately blinded him from the brightly lit hallway just beyond. "Owww!" he complained. But Brackett forced himself to smile at the timid doe-eyed young woman mincing in front of him. "What's the problem?" he asked in a gentler voice. Sharon wrung her hands in her new light blue nurse's smock and just stammered like she used to do during her nursing clinical days the year before. "Well, I, uh.. I think I might--" she broke off. "I mean I could be in a lot of trouble because.." Brackett lost all patience, feeling every second of the grogginess pounding down in his head that he had only just begun to dispel. "Well, spit it out, Sharon! I haven't got all day." he snapped. Sharon shrank back visibly, going pale. "I.. I have reason to believe-- I.. I might be..." "Well, what?!" Kel roared. "...sick..." she whispered. And then a bead of cold sweat ran down out of her unusually sweat plastered dark bangs. With that, she collapsed, right into Dr. Brackett's sheet wrinkled arms that were still poking out of equally wrinkled surgical scrubs. Kel caught her and hefted her suddenly limp form up automatically in complete, still sleepy surprise. Then the doctor in him awakened and he began shouting for help from any and all who could hear him. Setting Sharon down onto a bare sheeted bed still lining the hallway, he bent close, checking on her ability to breathe through a guarded head hold. It was ragged. He looked up as a full response team from the nurse's station thundered up with a portable oxygen tank. "Let's get her into the nearest empty room, stat!" he ordered. "She's not reacting to me." he said, letting go of the skin he had just pinched on the side of her neck. Nurse Carol finished fitting her still, young coworker with a high flow oxygen mask. She passed off an oral airway to Kel for later use that was the right size. "What's wrong with her, doctor?" "I don't know yet. Could be anything. Go ahead and page either Joe or Mike up here. I'm gonna need some fast help with her initial exam." Dr. Brackett kept a grip on Sharon's carotid. It weakened. "And bring a crash cart! She's slipping down a bit." "Right away, doctor." Carol replied, worried. She hurried away while the others rushed to obey Kel's quietly given, but necessarily sharp orders. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Two sets of footfalls echoing in the entryway leading to the kitchen from the garage, immediately alerted the gang to scatter instantly. Charlie was backing slowly through the swinging door, rear first, while he protected the deep steaming bowl and spoon he was carrying while he ate. "Wonderful suggestion, Hank. This is terrific chow. I could use the break right about n--" he broke off when he spotted the others posed in fake stances of preoccupation around the same wall as the door he had entered through. "What are yous lookin' at?" Charlie the county mechanic demanded. He still had a dot of fresh red paint smeared on his forehead just beneath his salt and peppered wavy hairline. Nobody laughed. But everybody stammered excuses and reasons other than the one they were being accused of to explain themselves. Chet finally led the crucial distraction. He stepped forward, redirecting Charlie's usual misconstrued ire. "Say, Charlie.." Kelly began. "What?!" the taxi driver voiced fireman barked. "Uh, can I bend your ear a little bit?" Charlie eyed him up suspiciously. "You mean like how that lame brained dame bent in Squad 51's rear fender?" he asked without a smile. Not one mouth uttered a single peep, until Charlie suddenly started laughing loudly at his own poor joking reference. "You can all relax, because I can, now. The ol' girl's good as new." he shared good naturedly as he flipped a kitchen chair around Johnny Gage style to sit at the table so he could finish his gift of steaming soup. "Gage, DeSoto.. Next time, feel free to ram a bush before you let the next person ram you, okay.. These vehicles..." "... are your babies, we know.." said Johnny dutifully. "are my babies." said Charlie, still lecturing. "So, Chet. Ah,.. What is it that you wanna chat about?" Kelly stood up from where he was slumped against the back of Cap's lounge chair. "I want your opinion on a new tool I think no engine should be without." he said mysteriously. Marco rolled his eyes. "Uh oh. It's that sales pitch again, everybody. Look out for your pocketbooks!" Chet scoffed. "Oooo, very funny." he said without his usual sting. He dismissed Lopez's and the others' reactions immediately. "Charlie, enjoy your lunch. I'll be right back with it." Then Chet and Boot made a beeline for the yard. When they returned, they reappeared with something that they all thought was a shovel at first, and a spare hose bundle from the store locker by the drying tower. He unceremoniously noodled the hose out into a messy pile on the tiled floor. "Kelly, what--?" Cap started. "This'll only take a moment, Cap." Chet interrupted. "I promise I'll put everything away once I'm done." Of everyone, only Boot and Charlie were truly intrigued. Especially the mechanic. He abandoned his bowl in seconds, letting his spoon fall with a splash. "Oh, very good." he trickled, taking the homemade waist high tool from Kelly's hand. "Is this what I think it is?" he asked Chet, shaking with excitement. The gang, was clueless. They all leaned forward, peering with mixed reactions at the odd business end of the crafted tool that had a normal shovel handle on top. Chet proudly showed it off. "Feel free to try it out, Charlie. She's all yours.." And he held it out dramatically, very pleased with himself and his captured audience. Gage shook his head in incomprehension. "What is it?" he asked. Charlie placed a matter of fact hand on his fire uniformed hip. "What does it look like, Johnny boy? This is a work of sheer genius!" he sighed, utterly genuine. Roy asked the next question that had crossed everybody's mind. "Yeah, I guess." he muttered, scratching his head. "But what exactly, does it do?" Charlie glanced towards Chet knowingly, pointing askance at DeSoto. "Is he for real?" Kelly milked his new fan club's loyalty to the max. "Yep. And yeah, I gotta work with him every day. This, my fine Irish friend, is a hose hook." he told Roy simply. "A whaa?" sputtered Gage. Charlie turned to Mike Stoker, the station's quiet engineer. "Don't you get tired of getting knocked in the shins by charging and bucking hoses while you're working the panel all the time?" he pegged. Stoker was frank. "Sometimes. Usually, I just stand on them when that happens." Chet pressed his ante'. "Well, how about just....moving them out of your way.." he said, demonstrating with his new tool's single gaffer's hook at the end of its post and handle. He neatly spaghetti looped several coils around a seated, puzzled Boot parked in the middle of a tangled pile of limp hose, like a serpent handler using a snake hook. Now the light bulbs flashed in the others' heads, but no one became as tickled as Charlie. "Chet." he said, reaching into his back pocket around the greasy rag he always carried there. "I want in. And I've got some investment pals I trust with my life savings. Anything up front financially you need to start promoting this hook thing throughout the department, just give me a call." he winked, happy that someone was finally showing themselves to be even slightly mechanically inclined. He handed Kelly a white dog eared business card that was heavily stained with oily fingerprints. "Thanks, Charlie." said Chet. "I think I will. And if you come with me, I'll show you how it was made. I've already started welding a second one out in the back yard." The two curly haired firemen left then, arms over shoulders to discuss their up and coming contest bid to L.A.Co. Headquarters, leaving the others behind to pick up their slack jaws that were still hanging down in utter disbelief. Then the tones went off... ------------------------------------------------------- Photo: Charlie the mechanic by his truck. Photo: Charlie and Cap eating. Photo: Charlie, Cap, Roy and Johnny talking. Photo: Johnny by the raised hood of a car. Photo: Roy and Johnny caring for a grass seated woman. Photo: A fireman holding a newly invented hosepick. Photo: Chet and Roy in close conference. Photo: Dixie and Joe taking notes at Rampart. Photo: Joe and Morton in scrubs, drinking coffee. Photo: A crashcart in closeup. Photo: Nurse Sharon talking in a hallway. Photo: Brackett standing by a crashcart. Photo: Kel and Sharon talking by a door. Photo: Morton and Brackett leaning in at you, concerned looks. ************************************************* From: "Erin James" Subject: Flying Off The 405 Date: Thu Jan 24, 2008 4:01 pm A-shift bolted for the bay along with Charlie. Suddenly a voice, unknown to the guys, broke through the speaker. ##Station 51. Respond to a reported traffic collision on the 405 just east of exit 10. That's the 405 just east of exit 10. Time out : 1400.## Charlie watched as the guys sprinted for the trucks sans Hank, who headed for the radio. Hank wrote the information down and quickly picked up the radio, "Station 51, 10-4. KMG 365." He spun and handed the slip to Roy. Then sprinted for the engine. Within forty-five seconds the trucks were gone, with lights and sirens blaring. Stunned, Charlie watched as the station emptied. Then he thought, ::I have never seen these guys in action and they are supposed to be some of the best in the county, let me go watch. Maybe I can help.:: Charlie bolted out the back door of the station for his red departmental truck. Since the accident wasn't very far from the station, A-shift arrived on scene in two minutes flat. What greeted them was a bit of a surprise. It looked like a minor fender bender between two cars with a third having stopped to help. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Mike and Roy brought the engine to a stop as close as they safely could, to the fender bender, and both trucks emptied. Having heard the approaching help, a man crawled out of one of the banged up cars. Everybody was shocked to see it was their district's station dispatcher, Sam Lanier. Sam yelled, "Guys, we have one pinned and two uninjured. I stopped to help out." A-shift nodded in acknowledgement. Hank ordered, "Chet, Marco, check both cars for any fire hazards. Roy, Johnny, help Sam here. Yell if you need anything." A chorus of "Right, Cap"'s were heard as the guys got to work. As they pulled their gear out, Johnny commented, "People are driving like maniacs today." "I know what you mean, Junior." said DeSoto. Suddenly Mike yelled, "WATCH OUT!!!!! Sam, MOVE NOWWWWW!!!" Startled, everybody heeded Mike's words and quickly moved to the side of the road. They watched in horror as a speeding pickup lost control in the center, hit the ditch, flipped four times in the air and then came to rest on its roof on the other side of the guardrail. Charlie pulled up behind the engine just as the truck finished its last flip and thought, ::Holy C--:: Then he rushed out, running along the grassy margin toward the others. Hank looked up, "Stoker!?" he shouted, starting a head count. Stunned at what he had seen, Mike replied, "I'm okay." "Lopez, Kelly?!" Hank continued. Both yelled, "Good to go." "Gage, Desoto?!" Both yelled back, "We're fine." Hank yelled, "Sam!" Sam yelled back, "I'm okay!" Once he was satisfied the crew and Sam were accounted for, Hank got back to the wreck. ::It's going to be an ugly job. This is a twisted mess!:: Cap was the ranking person on scene so he was now the Incident Commander. Charlie ran up, "Hank, can I help?" Hank replied, "Go block traffic, I don't care how. Just do it!" "You got it." Charlie took off. Hank barked, "Roy, go check on Sam and see what he has. Chet, go with him. Johnny, Marco, check on the other driver over there. I'll get us more hands out here on the fly." The group broke up, HT's in hand. Hank picked up his HT, "L.A., Station 51." ##Go ahead, 51.## "L.A., respond a battalion chief for incident command along with an additional squad, three ambulances, and the police for traffic control code 3 to our location. We have just had another vehicle involved in a new rollover accident." ##10-4, 51.## Hank jammed the HT back into his pocket. A quick look back at Mike, revealed the engineer was ready and waiting for anything that might happen as a safety lookout. Just beyond Mike, Charlie had pulled his fire department mechanic's truck sideways across the road to block traffic. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Roy and Chet sprinted for Sam and Chet quickly started to check the scene for fire danger. Sam said, "Hey, Roy." "Hey, Sam. I was wondering where you were this morning." DeSoto said quickly. "Ran home to get some extra clothes because we're down two dispatchers. I was on my way back when the wreck happened. This is Nick. His leg is pinned under the dash. He's been conscious the whole time. Everybody in the second car is okay. They're just waiting on the cops for a report." Lanier shared. Roy nodded. "I'll have Cap look in on those guys myself in a minute just to be sure. Okay, thanks Sam. Hey, can you..." "What do you need?" Sam anticipated. "Handle the biophone for us?" DeSoto asked, glad Sam had that skill to the max. "You got it." "Thanks." Sam crawled out and Roy replaced him in the car. "Hi Nick, my name is Roy." Nick grimaced, "Hi Roy. C-Can you get me out of here?" "We're going to work on that now. Can you feel your legs?" "Yeah." Nick gasped in pain and then said, "The one that's stuck is broke but I can still feel it." "All right hang in there. Soon some firemen and I we'll get you out of here." Chet peeked back in, "We're clear, Roy. What else do you need?" "The jaws, splints, 02, blankets, drug box and a BP kit. Sam is going to do our relay with Rampart." "Allll rright.." Kelly celebrated, recognizing Sam happily. Sam and Chet took off to get the requested supplies. They were back in less than a minute. Roy said, "Give me the oxygen and a blanket first to cover Nick with." Chet handed Roy the requested items. In pain, Nick asked, "Wha-what's all that stuff for?" he said, seeing an air pump and metal bars and straps. Roy responded as he adjusted the mask's flow rate, "The oxygen's to help you calm your breathing down. The blanket is to cover you so no glass or anything gets on you while we're getting ya outta here and this contraption is an air splint with a supporting exterior frame." Nick nodded, in too much pain to speak. Roy made quick work of the mask and blanket and then crawled out to help Chet with the jaws once he was sure there was still a good enough pulse maintaining in Nick's effected leg. Sam set up the biophone, ready to do whatever else, too, that was needed to help. With a little nudge from the jaws, Roy and Chet were able to pry the front of Nick's car dash off of his legs. Nick screamed at first, as the pressure was released. As soon as the car dash was pulled away Roy jumped back in. "Chet, give me that lower leg air splint. Sam, lay a second blanket down on the ground." Sam accomplished that and Chet handed Roy the requested splint. Nick had passed out from the pain and Kelly immediately took over Nick's head to guard and open his airway. Before Roy splinted his leg he took a quick set of vitals and muttered, "Lowish but all things considering, not too bad. BP's already rebounding." With practiced hands, Roy quickly and carefully splinted Nick's leg. Ever so gently, they turned Nick and brought him out of the car once a C- collar and short board had been applied. Chet helped him lay Nick on Sam's blanket on top of a long board and together, they fully secured his C-spine to both. Roy said, "Chet, watch him closely. If anything at all changes or if he wakes back up, let me know. Check his tactile vitals again in two minutes and radio them to me, too." "You got it. But good news. Help's just arrived. Squad 45, and three ambulances." "Sweet. I'll have 45's take this guy then." he said as he watched Chet maintain a jaw lift on Nick carefully. The team of paramedics arrived with their gear and knelt. DeSoto eyed them up. "Stan, he's a simple fracture left leg. Passed out two ago. Vitals are 120 regular, 99 palp BP and 16 shallow. He's under deep enough to need Chet's help here on his head. I haven't done a solid survey yet. I'm going to go check on Johnny's rollover." "Okay." he said. Then he and his partner got to work. Roy took off across the now quiet stretch of highway at a dead sprint. He readied himself for the worst after having seen the Ford flip and tumble through the air like it had been shot out of a cannon. Marco looked up as Roy approached. "I was just about to call you. You're not gonna believe this one at all. That guy's the luckiest son of a-- If he doesn't go to church, he's gonna probably start going now.." "Why would he?" "Take a look on the other side of the truck." Lopez grinned. Roy did and he immediately balked, locking his legs for slip safety. They were on a tiny cliffside shelf...the only one surrounded by a vast yawning void that fell into a gorge a long, long, long way down. He said quickly, "Thanks pal. Holy cow." Marco moved and Roy replaced him inside the driver's door. Johnny looked up. Roy asked, "What do we have? We're not gonna slide even though we're kissing the edge like this." Johnny said with relaxed humor, "Mr. Craig Scott, our stunt man, is DUI. He's complaining of neck, back, and leg pain plus he's got a possible minor head injury. I want to get a strip on him to check his heart after that impact just to clarify his bilateral regular radials. He's got a smallish light bruise over the sternum that's getting darker." "Sounds good." Roy peeked out, "Marco, radio Chet, have him send Sam over with the biophone. Then can you go grab out another long board, collar, blankets and the drug and splint boxes which are over by Chet? Set everything but the scope, collar and board up on the road. The ground might be too soft to treat him for long in here without risk of rocking." "You got it." Marco took off. Roy turned his attention back inside the mangled remains of the pickup. The drunk asked, "Who's--?" Johnny introduced Roy, "Craig, this is Roy. The other paramedic I was telling you about." Craig said, "Oh, Hi Roy." "Hi, Craig." DeSoto said, checking his radial pulse to note what Johnny had found there. Marco returned with Sam in tow. Marco leaned in the car. "Good news. More help's just arrived. The cops." Roy and Johnny both let out a sigh of relief. Roy said, "Awesome. Have them check out the folks in the first car to be sure they're still saying they're not injured." "You got it." Marco took off once again. Roy wrote some notes down for Sam. "Sam, call Rampart and read this verbatim." "No problem." Sam picked up the biophone receiver as Roy crawled back into the cab. DeSoto looked around a little closer and realized that Craig was not pinned. Johnny nodded in agreement and said, "I want to get him boarded and out of here before we do any secondary exam." he fretted, turning on the EKG monitor that was resting near Craig's side."I don't even want to think of what else this truck can do." "You're not alone in feeling that way. And I think Craig agrees with us wholeheartedly now. He's just seen where we're perched." DeSoto joked. Sam watched in awe as Roy and Johnny carefully prepped Craig to move without letting their dizzying position on the height effect them. Craig stank to high heaven of booze as they and the other firefighters brought him out of the truck. More hands arrived as Chet and Marco came over with Hank not far behind. Johnny had Craig's head so he immediately took command. "Cap, grab the scope and the 02. Chet, Marco, let's get our friend up to some real terra firma and concrete. I've had enough of this mountain goat act." Three heads nodded in acknowledgement. Sam was spellbound as he watched from his crouch on the road while the guys quickly brought Craig up with lines attached to his long board. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Once the group was back on solid ground, they quickly set Craig down. Roy cut open Craig's pants as Chet and Marco readied the needed splints. Craig had a myriad of obvious injuries and probably a few hidden ones, too. Hank radioed for one of the ambulance crews to meet them at their location. Johnny focused on keeping Craig's c-spine straight as he manipulated him, searching for fractures. The oxygen woke Craig up even more, well enough for him to slur out, "Hey man, those're my new pants." Roy kept his voice even, "Would you rather lose your pants and let us treat your injuries? Or keep your pants and risk your health?" Craig went dutifully quiet. Roy handed Sam more notes which Lanier relayed as Roy readied the expected I.V. Sure enough, a frazzled sounding Mike Morton returned on air, ##51, give him an I.V. Normal Saline TKO with these vitals. Splint any obvious breaks, maintain spinal precautions and get him in here sooner than now!## ::Geesh.. I wonder what's got him so worked up.:: Gage thought as he overheard the emotion in Mike's voice. Roy and Johnny both nodded to Sam to acknowledge the instructions. Sam said, "10-4, Rampart. 51 out." Sam hung up the biophone. Mere minutes later, Craig was packaged and ready to go. Just as the guys finished, the ambulance team arrived. Sam stayed out of the way as Craig was transferred to the stretcher. Gage got into the Mayfair and accepted the oxygen tank and Tetronix monitor from Hank. Johnny quickly spoke, "Roy, I'll go in with him. We're getting to be real buddies now." Roy grinned, "All right, I'll have the squad there in a bit as soon as we get cleaned up. I wanna check with those people in the first car for their information and refusal of treatment forms." "..'kay." said Gage. The guys loaded Craig into the ambulance. Once Johnny was seated and belted into the captain's chair, Roy slammed the doors shut and slapped them twice. The ambulance took off. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Stunned, Sam finally spoke. "Wow. That was real work." he told the firefighters as they sprayed down the pavement for gas and oil leaks and rewrapped the rappeling ropes they had used. The guys smiled. Roy said, "Now you know what life is like on the other side of the mic." Sam smiled, "It's interesting to say the least." Lanier decided to stay longer and help Roy and the others clean up. Roy asked, "Cap, how's Charlie? I saw him shaking as I was running between victims." "Mike checked on him. He's okay. A bit stunned emotionally from that near miss. He left a minute ago. Somebody else needed him across county. And get this, he wants us to call him and let him know how everybody is doing." "Really? Wow. Okay." DeSoto gaped. Sam asked as the crew crossed back over the highway toward the squad, "Can you call me, too? I'm on duty the rest of the night and my curiosity on their outcome'll only grow." Roy smiled, "You bet." Roy sobered, "Sam, thank you for your help. We definitely needed it. You haven't forgotten any of your firefighter training." Sam blushed slightly as Roy loaded the gear back into the squad. Chet had broke away to take care of the abandoned jaws. Sam said, "You're welcome, Roy. Just glad I was there." "So were we." Chet grinned. Hank smiled, "Sam, do you want me to write you a note so your supervisor knows where you've been?" Sam chuckled, "No thanks Hank. He heard every word of my transmissions into Rampart. We monitor those. He already knows where I am." "Handy. Okay. Thanks again." "You're welcome guys. You boys stay safe." Marco smiled, "Always. Have a good night at work." Sam smiled, "I hope so." "We'll be seeing you?" Cap asked Lanier after the post rescue work was done. Lanier grinned like a cat. "No, you'll be hearing me." And then he winked and walked away, whistling, as he returned back to his yellow Volkswagon Beetle. Roy left in the squad not long after and headed for Rampart. Nearly an hour after the initial call went out, the rest of the engine crew finally headed back to the station. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Photo: The vehicles in Station 51's bay from the perspective of the back yard looking in. Photo: Charlie by his maintenance truck. Photo: Close up of Charlie, the mechanic. Photo: Cap issuing orders to the gang by the engine. Photo: Sam Lanier using the biophone on scene. Photo: The gang working on a wreck at the top of a gorge. Photo: Roy and Johnny opening a red door on a vehicle. Photo: The gang rescuing a man in a stokes over a guard rail. ************************************************** From: patti keiper Date: Wed Feb 6, 2008 2:37 am Subject: Get A Little Of That Human Touch.. Dr. Morton let go of the biophone receiver's button hastily and snatched at the chart that Dixie just had delivered stat to the paramedic alcove station. "Give me that, Dixie. I'll let you know the minute I know what's going on." "Mike, what's happening up there? Nobody's telling me anything." McCall demanded, finally letting go of Sharon Walter's medical record. "That's because nobody knows yet." Both doctor and nurse startled when a sudden Code Blue was called to the same general floor on which the staff emergency was unfolding. ##Code Blue. Code Blue. Room 302. Dr. Morton, report immediately to Room 302.## said the hospital operator overhead. "I'm gone, lady!" Mike complained to the air. "I should have seen this coming. Sharon's been sick all week and I didn't approach her about it. Not even once, Dix. I'll let you know as soon as I get the basics." he said, yanking open the base station's glass door. "But.." Dixie sputtered. "That might be my nurse in trouble up there." "Stay with the radio. You're in charge of Squad 45's follow-through from 51's car case! I'll call you using the red phone.." he said, pointing derisively to the one on the wall above the paramedic intercom. He tried to run when the radio called him back. It was an unfamiliar voice reporting paramedic findings. Morton grumbled, "Answer that for me." he snapped at Dixie, now very worried about the time that was slipping away when he should have already been upstairs. He hastily read core details from the inside of Sharon's chart. "Unit calling in, please repeat." Dixie said swiftly, taking over the receiver. ##Rampart, this is KMG 941 L.A. on behalf of Squad 51. We've a second male victim of a single car rollover.## Morton continued to talk into McCall's ear. "If it's not critical, handle it yourself and tell Joe to skip coming to this one so he can respond to my floor emergency, too. Who's attending up there?" "Kel is.. er.. he was. I thought he was sleeping on break. Up there's his usual hiding spot." Dixie blurted out. "My bunkroom?" "Yep." "I've always wondered who wrinkles up the bottom bed." Morton groused. "So lucky he was close at hand for this code call." Dixie snorted and then she answered the caller. "Go ahead, 941 L.A., your recording's enabled." Morton abbreviated the process on deciding if he could leave. He thumbed the toggle. "Sam, does he need a chopper to lift him out?" ##Negative. He's conscious with holding vitals. He's ETOH, and very relaxed. No obvious heavy trauma past two ankles.## said Lanier reading the notes Roy had handed to him. Dixie nodded her head. "Ethanol intoxication. I got this. You're covered. Go." she told Mike, giving him and the chart both a healthy shove out of the communications cubicle. Morton took off for the elevators, fighting his fears and doubts the whole way up to the third floor. He used his staff's magnetic badge to swipe the elevator reader into priority mode. "Medical emergency. Take the next one." He told an orderly returning an orthopedic patient to her room. ---------------------------------------------------- Sounds of active talking, wailing alarms and a flurry of activity around a bed in the effected room gave Dr. Morton the first clue on how severe the situation really was. "Is she viable?" Kel answered from where he was listening over Sharon's opened uniform shirt. "Yes. I toned a blue because her rate's highly irregular." "She's still unconscious. Cooling measures?" asked Morton as he began a full head to toe on Sharon as the orderlies and Nurse Carol Evans cut away her restrictive clothing down to the skin. "Already on the way." Kel replied, testing deep tendon reflexes in her legs. They were twitching slightly. And so were her arms. He looked up. "Carol, get a catheter in. We'll need a urine sample to screen for any active pathogens. A U/A, U/C..." "Kel, she's been sick." Morton said, interrupting, pausing in his check of Sharon's oral airway under the oxygen mask. "How so?" Kel asked, looking up from the EKG strip he was reading. "Sore throat. Joint aches. For the past week at least." Morton said self consciously. "I noticed but I didn't pursue it." Dr. Brackett grimaced at the oversight of Mike's about a staff member. "Too late now. Any throat culture's bound to come up negative." "Draw a full blood series?" Mike suggested. "Yeah, go ahead and get six tubes. Standard everything." Brackett agreed. Morton stepped over to the prep tray and got the supplies he needed. A sharp smacking he gave her arm to raise a vein started bringing Walters around. She moaned incoherently. Deftly, Kel pulled out the oropharyngeal before the young nurse could vomit on a gag reflex. "Sharon?.. Can you hear me yet? It's Doctor Brackett." Walter's head and face shivered and her eyes began to roll. She answered with sounds but no words came out. Her struggles became stronger as she began to thrash arms and legs in an activity that wasn't a seizure. It was something else. Two orderlies grabbed her wrists and ankles to keep her from bumping them on the bed railings. "Tie her down. Lamb's wool restraints." Morton told them. "Sedate her a bit, Mike. This isn't a normal way of coming back to consciousness at all." Brackett conferred. Morton reached over to the crash cart and soon, he established a fast saline lock. A minute later, he delivered a dose of light diazepam to calm the worst of the young woman's tremors down. "That did it. What's her breathing rate now?" Kel asked. "Ten, and not as deep." Carol replied. "Good. She's stabilizing. Now all we have to do is--" His voice seem to agitate Sharon, even more than the ice a nurse began to lay about her sweating body to curb the fever, did. "Get Dixie up here. Stat!" Brackett said to the others. "Maybe she can get through to her better than I can. We're gonna need a solid history." "I'll take these to the lab." said Morton, finishing up what had been interrupted. "Get Joe in here, too. She's still got arrythmias in Lead II. I'm gonna need his consult on this eventually. Sooner is better than later." "I'll call him before I go." said Morton, moving to the phone on the wall. "Take this along, too, doctor." said Evans, handing off a culture cup she had drawn from Sharon's newly established bladder catheter. "It's a sterile catch." Mike held out his tray for it, then he left rapidly for the basement with Sharon's line of still very hot samples. --------------------------------------------------- Dixie flew into the room. "How is she?" "Semi conscious and febrile." Kel told her immediately. "Out of immediate danger." "You may be a doctor, but there is more than one kind of danger going on here." McCall scoffed protectively as she donned a pair of gloves and began soothing Sharon's restless movements with a cool hand on her forehead. "What?" Kel blinked, distracted, taking a blood pressure reading. "Never mind. Uh, can all of you leave for a few minutes? Carol and I will watch her until Joe gets here for his turn at a once over. I think I can get the information you need out of her better that way." Remembering suddenly about the crush Sharon once had on him, Brackett nodded minisculely, and retreated dutifully, taking the male orderlies with him. The door closed. And Carol took a chair over by the heart monitor to run another strip or two. Dixie sighed, finally smiling down at Sharon. "Men." she began. "Are they gone?" Walters whispered in a chilled and shaking shiver. McCall immediately drew up a sheet that covered Sharon up to the chin. "Yes. For now. What's the problem, love? Was it having them taking care of you?" Walter's didn't answer, but tears suddenly leaked out of both eyes, causing her usually beautiful mascara and peachy rosy blush, to run in hideous streaks. McCall wiped these away with a gloved finger. "Hey... It's okay. There's nothing to be embarrassed about at all." "But they saw me..." Sharon minced and she began to cry softly, still half scared of the tiny remaining jumps her arms and legs were drumming on the bed that she couldn't control. "I can't help think what he thought. What all of them thought about my--" she broke off, completely frightened and self conscious. McCall met her young charge's eyes evenly, and adjusted some twisted soaked hair away from the elastic strap on her O2 mask gently. "Sharon, Kel's just a doctor. He's not thinking anything that way. As for Mike, for him, any patient's just a puzzle that needs to be solved. Nudity to them is nothing at all, believe me. It's nothing to you anymore when you take care of others, right?" "That's right." she said only half certainly. Her youth was showing strongly. Dixie smiled, seeing the teenager that Sharon still was behind her eyes. "Well, they've been in this healthcare business far longer than either one of us. So everything like that has become old hat to them. Ages ago." Dixie soothed, keeping an eye on the EKG monitor when it sped up a little as Sharon fretted. "For example, do you see me as being scarred for life?" "I don't get it.." Sharon gasped, trying to get comfortable with the tube draining her bladder free. "I gotta p**." she said bluntly, still slightly shocked about her illness. "No you don't. You remember what you lecture to your patients? That's just a ghost sensation. It'll pass. Now getting back to the subject. What you don't get, is what happened to me once when I was in your shoes." Sharon tried to frown. Dixie leaned forward, close in to Sharon's ear, and elaborated. "I've been seen in the buff by a whole firehouse of men and that hasn't effected our friendship any, one iota." Walter's mouth framed into a surprised 'oh.' "What happened?" she squeaked, wheezing a little as her illness fought her. "Trauma assessment. I had a car roll on top of me. Enough to flatten my head a little. I woke up in an ambulance to brand spanking new paramedic Johnny Gage, blushing brighter than a cherry, with his hands on my totally bare ribcage, checking me out for fractures." "How'd you get over that?" Walters whispered, horrified. "I cracked a joke. I said. Either propose to me or tell me where I'm broken, before I deck ya." Dixie chuckled, trying to get Sharon to smile. Sharon curled up weakily. "I'm not in a joking mood. How can I be? Something's horribly wrong. I can feel it." "It's nothing we can't fix. They left you alone with me, didn't they? It can't be too bad or they'd still be hovering around us like a pack of bees." Dixie shared. "Now tell me your symptoms. I was sent for to glean out all your deepest darkest secrets, don't you know?" Coughing wetly, and grimacing at the irregularly bleeping heart monitor, Sharon told her everything. When Dixie had finished taking down her notes, she added, "All right if I check you out myself? It's been ten minutes. There may have been some changes they need to know about." Sharon lowered the sheet and Dixie got to work. She found small bumps on Sharon's knees and elbows, just under the skin and fresh signs of fluid buildup in her legs which was causing Sharon's ankles to swell. "Do any of these hurt?" she asked, pressing on the lumps. "No. Should they?" "No. Definitely not. How's your chest?" McCall stated. "It hurts." Sharon gasped. "Trouble breathing?" "Not really. I'm just really, really tired." she sighed softly, closing her eyes. "All right. Now that's a consciousness level alteration. I'm bringing them back in, okay? But with one change.." "What's that?" Sharon asked quietly, beginning to drift, despite her limb tremors. "This." And Dixie placed two towels around Sharon's private areas discreetly enough, so none would get in the way of any another checkup when Dr. Early finally came by for an official visit. "....t-thank you, dixie...." Walters murmured, falling into unnatural drugged sleep. She gripped Dixie's fingers gratefully. "Anytime." McCall answered, still holding her sick and youngest nurse's hand while she squeezed it right back. Sharon finally smiled the tiniest of smiles, when she found that she was no longer scared. ----------------------------------------------- Photo: Dixie and Morton on the biophone in the base station. Photo: Morton and Brackett examining someone on a bed. Photo: A good close up of Nurse Sharon Walters. Photo: Dixie lying unconscious under a car, bleeding. Photo: Dixie talking to Sharon in the hallway, a lecture. ************************************************** From: patti keiper Date: Wed Feb 6, 2008 1:40 pm Subject: Caretaker Personified Sharon took a deep breath, and woke up. She saw that she was in a patient room. 302 was dry markered on the status board on the wall at the foot of her bed. She was confused, and so she hit the patient call button wired on the cord tied to the bed railing. Dr. Early entered the room with her patient chart. Immediately, he began to smile. "Morning." "Doctor? I'm so sorry. I--" "Shh.. You're supposed to be resting, Miss Walters. Doctor's orders." he teased. "Isn't this my day to work swing shift on the floor?" "Not any more, it isn't. You've some healing to do first." he grinned. Ceremoniously, he set the chart he was carrying down onto her ample covers and opened it for her, facing the pages so they were turned for her right side up. "Oh, I can't read that." she gasped self consciously. "Only doctors are supposed to--" "Well, why not? It's your patient chart, so go on ahead. Don't you want to know what happened to you yesterday?" "I guess." "Anything you don't understand, we can go over together." said Joe kindly. Sharon blinked, still doe eyed and uncertain. "Is it bad, Dr. Early?" she said, without really looking at what her eyes were targetting amid all of the mumbo jumbo of doctor speak. "I know my heart's still off quite a bit." she said. "I've been watching the monitor." "You're on penicillin for that cardiac inflammation. We're guessing you've come down with a first attack of rheumatic fever." "I've what?" she asked, her eyes getting large with surprise. "Your symptoms fit the profile. You've antibodies for group A streptococcal pharyngitis in your blood, and those muscle movements we've tamed down is a classic case of chorea." "Am I contagious? Oh my God. Dixie was here. And Kel, Carol and Mac and Stan the orderlies..." "Easy there. Settle down before you get tachycardic again for no good reason." he laughed. "You aren't infectious now. Not in the slightest. You were when you had strep, but last night and today is all just an autoimmune response of your own body still setting up to attack the strep infection you once had. The fever isn't real. It's a farce. Your T-cells are targetting the joints, heart and we think, your brain. That's why you're so sleepy now." Sharon looked numb, so Joe went on, reassuring her. Early moved closer, "May I sit down?" he said, gesturing to the bed. "Certainly. I...sorry. Umm. This is really a shocker. I mean. I'm healthy. Or at least, I thought I was." she frowned, reaching for a kleenix sitting on the patient table near her bed. Joe sat down on the bed and took her other hand affectionately. "You will be in about two to twelve weeks, when the prednisone we're giving you reduces the swelling in your heart. The I.V. antibiotics are already well on the way of convincing your body that you're no longer infused with bacteria." Sharon started tearing up. "But doesn't rheumatic fever damage people's hearts?" she said, frightened. "I took care of Missus Miller last month going in for surgery," she sniffed. "..and that's what she said happened to her when she was a little girl." "Sharon.. she was going in for mitral repairs. Only in some cases does rheumatic fever damage heart valves. And even if scarring occurs, it may take ten to thirty years for symptoms of valve problems to show. On the off chance they do, we can replace anything going bad then, with surgery, to an almost complete recovery." Joe shared. "I still don't feel so well." she moped. "I think I overheard Dr. Morton saying that I was incurable..." "But fully treatable. We're prescribing bed rest and a return to normal activities gradually. A liquid or soft diet for now that's low salt so we don't exacerbate your carditis while you're staying here..." he ticked off on his fingers. "Drugs to reduce inflammation, reduce fluid buildup, and others to control those leg and arm movements." Sharon grinned. "I think with these, I make a pretty good disco dancer. Wanna stand me up to see how I groove?" she joked. Joe laughed lightly. "Those spasms'll fade in a week or so. They've already gone away enough for us to not have to restrain you any longer." Walter's dark brown eyes met his, trying to be brave, but failing. "When am I going to be discharged? I... Doctor, money's tight right now. I just changed apartments. And-- I'm wondering if my nursing career's ending before it's even begun." she began to sob openly again. Joe smiled, not looking away. "Hey.. If I know Dixie, she'll force the hospital administrators to wait for your graduation, so even after you've been evaluated by specialists on a possible outcome with your heart, nobody can terminate your position because you're gonna be on solidly approved LOA. I'll sign the papers myself." "Oh, Thank you, doctor, thank you so much.." she smiled, brimming with tears. "Also, the nurses, and all of us, have already collected a pool of cash to last you until you're back on your feet again. Think of it as a trust fund. We all love the work you're doing here at the hospital. None of us wants you to leave. Ever, if we can help it." Sharon started crying again, this time tears of joy and gratitude. And she held out her shaking arms to Joe who took her into a warm hug of encouragement just as tight as the one she gave him. Sharon was utterly speechless, but nothing further needed to be said at all as spears of pure sunlight began flooding the room through the window, filling the air with rainbows around them. ------------------------------------------------------ Photo: Dr. Early, Dr. Morton and Dr. Brackett in conference in the hallway with a chart. Photo: Sharon working with Dixie and Kel, buried in EKGs and reports. Photo: Kel and Joe looking down at someone, in full caretake mode. ************************************************** Subject: Hippy Crack Anyone?? From: patti keiper (pattik1@hotmail.com) Sent: Wed 2/06/08 7:24 PM Dr. Brackett clutched his shock blanket protectively to his sleepy chest as he sought another napping place. ::No sense going back to the resident's nook now. Everybody's found out that I like to go there to unwind a little on all my breaks. D*mn. Where's a spot not even Dixie can figure out this time?:: he thought tiredly. Out loud, Kel continued a stream of epitaphs. "So much for getting some shut eye in between triple shifts. Last night was a real winner. Being interrupted by young kid nurses who can't take care of themselves well enough to stay healthy. D*mm*t. But I'm glad she's all right. It was worth losing a little sleep to take care of her sudden prob---... ah ha..!" Peeking around secretly, Kel eyeballed up and down the ground floor hallway before he put his hand on the doorknob of a mop broom closet next to the main surgical store on 1East. Entering quickly, Kel cleared off half an empty shelf of paper towel packs and made a comfortable bed for himself using rows of their soft bulk as an impromptu mattress. Grumpily, he tore off his pager and tossed it crankily over his shoulder. It landed, still powered on, into the janitor's hand sink with a clatter. He kicked the door shut with a happy flourish and doused the lightbulb with a quick unscrewing motion of fast fingers, until it winked out into complete and total darkness. Sighing, Brackett stretched out blissfully, knowing that he had a full half hour before he began his 'next day' oncall. Kel fell asleep in seconds, his arm cast over his eyes. Silence reigned over the little used hallway. It was Sunday, and there was no regular surgeries scheduled except for any emergency case that happened to come in by paramedic intercept. -------------------------------------------------------------------- Several long minutes later, a light trembler shook the building. Power wasn't interrupted so Rampart's staff just noted that the fire department scanner was turned on and then they went about their business as the Richter scale didn't even crank out an alert at all, falling far below the standard earthquake strength of one. But in the boiler room, two workers began to talk. "Yeah,.." said Scotty, the old Irishman. "The existing hospital complex suffered moderate damage in the Northridge earthquake of 1964 which damaged our interior mainframe. We needed a citation to get all our repairs done. I remember being on that team. What was funny was this. Because several hospitals were severely damaged during that quake and injured people had to be transported long distances for emergency care, the state of California passed SB1953, an amendment to an older law requiring all hospitals to move their acute care and intensive care units into earthquake-safe buildings by 1973." "Did we pass muster?" asked his younger coworker, dressed in a neat denim work shirt. "Finally. Took a lot of work. Tell you what? Why don't you make a sweep of all critical rooms and make sure all the fuse boxes and other infrastructure systems are still reading on the true. Okay?" "Sure. What floors first?" "All of them, boy. You never can be too careful." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Deep in the substrata around Rampart, the tiles in Anesthesia Store on 1East cracked under pressure. The spreading fissure in the wall grew, spewing dust and dirt plumes until it reached a pipe intersecting it, between two monstrous gas tanks, labelled N2O. The light tremor in the ground receded back into stillness, but not before it sheared off the metal valve connecting this gas's delivery system to the surgical suites next door. A plume of freezing, sinking invisible gas began spurting out of the main cylinder juncture at high speed and soon its writhing layer began to displace all the air in the room with its purified substance. The level of foreign mist in the room began to rise, and it started to spread laterally, through the ventilation system, to everywhere on the ground floor of Rampart. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kel coughed, almost choking, and that aroused him. He didn't know the reason why right away, for after he had taken several deep breaths of air when he felt a light tingling that made him feel as if he were twisting or spinning. "Whaatt?" His disorientation increased rapidly, and pulsing sounds, along with an odd sense of continual deja vu waves, increased, wrapping over one another. "Oww.." Then, as he opened his eyes, Kel had a chaotic view of corsicating color in bright neon tunnel vision. "Ah!!" He nap jerked, as the urge to breathe again suddenly bit down. Dr. Brackett struck his head on the top shelf above him instantly and that, knocked him out the rest of the way. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Photo: Brackett looking up to something in a hallway. Photo: An engineer working on pipework. Photo: A freshly cracked brick wall in a basement. Photo: A series of blue nitrous oxide tanks. Animated: Gas leaking out of a tank. Photo: Brackett down unconscious, sweaty. Photo: An empty, lonely hospital room. Photo: Fire engines responding to a hospital after a quake. ************************************************** From: Erin James Subject: Bugged Date: Wed Feb 6, 2008 7:55 pm Joe smiled at Sharon who was growing more tired. "Sharon, you get some rest now, you hear. I'm going to go check on your cardiac test results and then I will check on you later." Sharon said sleepily, "Okay, Doctor Early. Thanks for everything." "You're welcome. Ring one of the nurses if you need anything." "I will." Joe left as Sharon nodded off. He quickly made his way to the lab. The normally unshakable doctor was having a hard time with this case. The staff was pretty much one big family. They all looked out for one another. Joe had seen Sharon from the time when she was just a student and it wasn't easy to see her in her present condition. Joe thought, ::I hope we can get this thing under control and get her back on her feet. She was a bit wet behind the ears when she first started here, but she's blossomed into one heck of a nurse. I hope we can save her career.:: Joe made it to the hot lab in record time. There were two lab techs and a young intern in the lab. One of the techs looked up as Joe walked in. Surprised, he said, "Hi Joe, what can I do for you?" "Hi Tom, I was wondering if you had Sharon Walters' test results yet?" "Actually, I do. Right here." The tech handed Joe the results. Joe read them over quickly and half frowned, "Well, the only good news is we caught it before it did permanent damage. At least, I got what I came down here for. We can rule out purulent pericarditis with Neisseria." :: Now the question is how do we handle what's already been done?:: he wondered. ----------------------------------------------------------- Joe never got the answer to his question. His thoughts were cut off when a piercing alarm rang out. "What the--?" Tom spoke quickly, staring at a sudden flashing light glowing brilliantly on his panel. "Doctor Early, we have to leave NOW! The main room's infectious seal has been broken. We're all at risk of exposure to who knows what." Joe was stunned. As they all broke for the door, the young intern, who was the second to the last to leave, didn't watch where he was going. He flattened Early unknowingly with the closing door in his blind panic. Joe was knocked silly and he barely had enough wits to brace himself for the impact. His last waking thought was, ::D*mn this hurts.:: With that, Joe let the black out take over as his head hit the cold floor of the lab with a solid clunk which completed his trip into oblivion. ------------------------------------------------------------- A few minutes after Joe hit the floor, he slowly came around. He was disoriented at first, as to where he was. Once he heard the dull tone of the emergency alarm going off, it came back to him. ::I need to get into some kind of mask. Good grief, how long have I been out?!:: Joe checked and made sure he could move his arms. They had taken the brunt of his fall and then he blinked a few times to clear the fog in his mind. Once Early had his faculties back, he slowly got to his feet. Joe made sure he gained his balance before attempting to move. ::D*mn! Gonna need to get my noggin looked at. I think I may have scrambled something up there. But clean air first.:: Joe looked around and spotted his destination, the emergency air bottle storage. As quick as he could, he made tracks to the locker. He was relieved to find a HEPA mask in amongst the other gear and he quickly put it on. Then he slowly made his way over towards a phone. He took one last look in the lab and thought, ::Wonder what the heck caused this mess?:: Panic set in when he realized how quiet the floor was. ::I've got to make sure everybody else's okay.:: Joe got over to a nearby stool and immediately vetoed using the emergency stairs. The risk of exposure now was probably too high for him to actually leave the hot room. Joe turned and reached for the phone receiver on the desk in front of him. The single phone immediately blossomed into two, and then doubled again. ::Calling for help with a bad headache like this SHOULD be fun.:: Joe thought sarcastically. ::NOT!:: He began to sweat when the mask suddenly started to seem to make it hard for him to breathe. He resisted pulling it off. Joe started to grope for one of the phones again when the world around him started spinning like a top. He slouched against the wall, willing the dizzy spell to go away. It wouldn't. ::Ah, man not again:: Joe thought. He had no choice but to let the black out take over a second time. ------------------------------------------------------------ Photo: A viral hot lab at Rampart. Photo: A technician working under a fume hood. Photo: A hospital tech working with live cultures. Photo: Joe with a sore neck. Photo: Joe looking surprised with a question on his lips. Photo: Joe getting a headache. Photo: Joe Early unconscious with a head injury on the floor. ************************************************** From: patti keiper and 'Erin James'