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| Page Three |
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There was a longer silence and then Kel heard Brent slip into his professional mode like he always did when analyzing the emotional tone of a situation. "That'd be fine son, free on the 18th? I'll have my receptionist book us. That will give us two days each to think of something to talk about, other than the shop talk like we always end up doing." "Thanks dad. I'll see you at our usual table." "Until then. And son..." "What dad?" "Don't work so hard. I can tell by how long your head nurse glares at me how little you've slept.." That comment embarrassed Kel deeper than words. "I'll see you later, pop." A muted grunt was a reply and the phone line clicked with a snick briskly a second later. "It's still a little mid artic but at least, the cracks in the icebergs are widening.." said Dix. "Here's to progress.." and she raised her mug to Dr. Brackett in salute. Kel didn't know whether to smile at his accomplishment or admonish Dix for easedropping on his phonecall. He chose to move on to other matters. He cleared his throat, taking a chart from Dixie's hand. The red light in the base station was still on, but not yet flashing. "51, call in with their rescue yet?" Dix regarded the tiny glass room and the quiet intercom phone still sitting silent by the recorder. "Nope. I just moved their status magnet to Away two minutes ago when I heard the call come in through L.A. dispatch.." she said, pointing with a pen from her desk to the scanner overhead. "Any indication what it is we got?" "None. It's an unknown type rescue so far. Literally.." "Hmm" Dr. Brackett said, handing 51's blank run sheet slate back to Dix. "Keep me posted. I think I'll check in on a patient or two while I'm waiting. Page me when 51 fires up." "Will do." and then she smiled, hugely as if with a private observation. Kel didn't miss it. "What?" "You're relaxed already. And all it took was a single itty bitty 30 second phone call." she chuckled. Kel's face twitched. "I'll recommend you for a Pullitzer." and he disappeared into treatment two, shaking his head ruefully. |
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At 213 East Morrow Drive, things weren't quite as rosy, down right creepy at that. "Do you smell that?" Cap asked and he started to walk around the room, sniffing, suspicious. Chet and the gang started to copy him. Johnny immediately tensed. " Cap, what is it? You smell smoke or something?" Cap shook his head. "No..no.. not smoke.. smells like... like.." "Cinnamon ginger bread.." Chet said. "OoooOOoooo." Marco toned. "Do you suppose the witch from Hansel and Gretel lives here? Maybe we've all been called out to be someone else's dinner.." The gang cracked up. "Very funny guys. Creepy house or not, that's what I'm smelling. Gingerbread." Kelly noticed the dubious looks on all the guys faces..and he clarified defensively. "You know.. the kind grandma always makes. And it smells like it's coming from over..." The whole crew followed Kelly's nose to another dusty cobwebby door and he pushed it open. A brightly lit yellow kitchen with oversized stoves and ovens met their eyes. The station crew's light faces fell away when they found an old man slumped over a table, a phone's receiver still in his hand. Johnny and Roy ran over to him and Gage felt for a pulse. "He's alive.." The cookies, were just starting to burn. Marco pulled open the oven, and yanked out the scorched tray, and dumped it into the old over sized, old fashioned pump water handled sink. It took him a moment to figure out the pump was the only way to get to water. He finally pumped enough out to gurgle over the over hot pan. Mike turned off the gas in the oven. Roy shouted to his patient. "Hey,.. Mister.. Can you hear me? We're L.A. County Firefighter Paramedics. We answered your call.." The man didn't move as Roy checked his breathing, right where he was. Cap lifted his handy talkie to his mouth. "L.A. This is Station 51. We have a confirmed medical rescue. Respond an ambulance.." ##10-4, 51. Timeout 23:16.## Then Hank knelt by Roy and John as they took off their helmets and got to work. "Want him on the floor?" "Not yet. We don't know what we have. He's breathing ok at any rate. But we will need the O2." Chet Kelly came through the kitchen door with it breathless. "Got it here. That and the defibrillator." He handed them off to John who immediately got them set. Mike, got leads on an EKG ready on the blue monitor and waited to hand them to Gage and DeSoto when they were ready. Roy set the unconscious old man on a light flow through a simple mask, leaving him slumped across the table top face down, while John got a BP. "It's 90 over 64. Pulse 110 and thready." Roy said, "His respiration rate's 22 and shallow. Irregular.." He bent over and checked the man's pupils being careful not to move him much. "Equal and reactive." "Cardiac?" Hank asked. "Most likely." Roy answered him. "If this were a stroke, his eyes would've told us that. The scope will tell us more.. Give me those Stoker. I'm ready for them." Mike helped Roy patch the man up. As they did so, the old man began to moan and awaken and he lifted his head. Chet supported him in his chair as Roy and Hank got him oriented as to what was happening. "Easy there. Take it slow. How are ya doing?" Roy said to him. "Know where you are?" |
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Johnny got on the biophone to Rampart, digging out his green pen from the biobox's lid. "Rampart, this is Rescue 51, how do you read?" The reply was.... ******************************* From: "Linda Taggatz" <doc51@att.net> Date: Tue, 19 Nov 2002 23:27:41 -0600 Subject: Re: The Stuff of Dreams ..from Dixie. "Rescue 51, I read you loud and clear." ******************************* From:"Cassidy Meyers"< killashandraRey@hotmail.com> Date: Thu Nov 21, 2002 2:37 am Subject: The Ginger Cookie Man and the Other ChesterB Johnny looked up and saw that their patient was nearly conscious. He amended his notes on his writing pad. "Rampart, ah. We have a male, approximately 60 to 65 years of age. Found comatose and unresponsive. On eight liters of O2, consciousness is returning. Vitals are: BP 90/64, Pulse 110 and thready. Respirations are 22 and shallow. Rampart we do have a strip available. Lead two." "10-4. Relay your telemetry and I'll page Dr. Brackett. Please stand by.." Dixie answered. ##Standing by.# Johnny answered. Dixie got on the red phone and paged the inhouse operator. "Would you please page Dr. Brackett to the base station, stat. Thanks." and she hung up, writing down the information she had received. Roy in the meantime, put on his best paramedic smile. He watched as the old man looked surprised as full awareness returned as he put questioning hands up to his face to the mask flowing oxygen there. "Hi there. I'm Roy DeSoto and this gentleman on the phone is my partner, John Gage. We're paramedics from the Los Angeles County Fire Department. Got your call there." The man gave an intelligible moan and he seemed to be hard of hearing. "Eh? Oh, my dearie. I HAVE caused a ruckus, haven't I?" Then he smelled wet ginger cookies in the kitchen. "Oh, no.. there goes all afternoon's work.." he said. Chet smiled for the man's voice sounded for the world like Mr. Hooper from Seasame Street. Kind and warm. "Yeah, well, rest easy sir. We got the gas turned off for ya." Roy set his hand on the man's stomach to get a new breathing rate. "So, what's your name? Can you tell me that?" "Eh? Oh, oh. It's Fajou.. Reginald Arthur Fajou. Been living in this house since... uh.... I can't remember rightly.. Could have been since the war.. or was that WW One?" he gasped. "I see. Listen, Mr. Fajou.." Gage said. "Do you have a history of any heart problems? Breathing problems? That sort of thing? You seem to be in a little distress here." "Ohh..." Arthur said, thinking.." Martha tells me I got asthma.. and....that's about it...." "Who's Martha?" Roy asked. "Your wife?" "Eh?..Ohnn no.. She's ma landlady. Heh. She's been real nice to me. Letting me bake for the kids working and filming at the movie studio and all." and he started to laugh in memory, weakily, until a wet coughing made him grip Chet's hand tightly. "Oh, my.. Not feeling so good today.. Little weak.." "Well, we'll get ya to the hospital and have a doctor take a look at you, ok?" Roy asked. "All right. If you say I have to go.. I I will. Don't want to get Martha mad at me. She's been so nice to me, don't you see? And,..I had a nice ...*cough* pan of cookies made just for her.. hhmm." "Yes,sir.." Roy said and he began to get a more detailed medical history on Arthur while Johnny got Kel Brackett on line. Gage began to relax as the reading showing on the scope indicated only some elevated ST segments on a sinus rhythm. Nothing dire. He set the phone and its cord over his shoulder while he listened to Arthur's breath sounds. He heard only light bronchial wheezing. "Ohhhh, that's cold sonny.." Arthur said of the metal drum Johnny placed on his skin. "Like ice.." "Sorry.. Easily fixed.." Johnny said with a grin and he warmed it in his palm with a breath before finishing his task. Mentally, he upgraded Arthur's consciousness level to good. Roy bumped down the percentage of O2 on their patient when Johnny gave him a thumbs down gesture. Gage said, "COPD's confirmed." "Ok, then, we'll just keep you sitting, allright Arthur? You can breathe better this way in the chair..?" Roy asked. "Y- Yeah.. That's why I came into the kitchen. Usually I stay by the fire while they bake, you see? But then I *cough* got a little dizzy.. and the room started spinning round and round. I got scared, you know.. So I called for help. Glad you boys are here, because.. I'm not feeling so good today.." Arthur sighed softly. His charm was irresistable to the other firemen hovering nearby and they all broke into grins of amusement. Cap noticed the pictures on the wall. "Say,, Arthur.. I know this movie.. And this looks like your front porch here on the poster.." "Heh.." Arthur grinned around his mask. "It is.. I've been baking cookies for the studios for so long, they.. they come over every once in a while...to make a movie.. know what I mean..?" Chet and Marco both nodded. "Sure do." Kelly piped up eagerly, joining in Cap's enthusiasm."We're great fans of most of them. Attack of the Ghoulies and last year's Grandchild of Frankenstein here. Do you really have an iron maiden in the basement down there? We didn't really quite make it down there before Ca-" Lopez smacked Chet silent before Cap could use the eye on him. "This is Dr. Brackett, go ahead, 51." Johnny continued his report. "Rampart our victim's got a history of chronic occlusive pulmonary disease. He admits to asthma. I've listened to him and he does sound a little wet on the left side. And his breathing's slightly labored. We've amended his liter flow to four a minute." |
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