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Father and Son
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          Page Three

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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Father and Son
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