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************************************************** Subject: The Last Hours? From: crash200225 (crash200225@yahoo.com) Sent: Fri 11/02/07 9:48 PM It didn't take long for the engine and squad to respond to the address for an 'unknown type rescue'. The small house and yard had seen better days, but still had the feel of a well loved home. A woman appeared on the porch as the sirens announced Station 51's arrival. "What do you want?" The woman demanded the moment Cap started up the walkway. "I didn't call you." "We had a report of someone needing help here." replied Cap kindly as the others came up to the porch. "Is everything all right?" "Nosey neighbors..." the woman mumbled, then sighed. "Thanks for coming, but there is nothing you can do. Everything that can be done, has been done." Just as Cap opened his mouth to ask what she meant, a loud alarm came from inside the house. The woman flew back into her home, leaving the door open. Roy and Johnny both knew the sound well. They had heard it at Rampart and it wasn't good. They all entered the open door. |
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It was a bit of a surprise see a well equipped hospital room in what once must have been the living room. The woman was standing by the hospital bed, her back to the men. "It's okay, Harry. I'm here. You pulled one of the EKG leads off again. Did you get jealous because I was talking to a bunch of good looking firemen?" A half choking, half chuckle came from the man in the bed. "Ma'am, we are paramedics..." Roy began, but was cut off. "I know what you are, but you aren't taking him to the hospital." the woman stated. "He has end-stage cancer and only a day left, maybe a few hours. He wants to die at home, not in some sterile hospital. We've been in too many of them over the last two years. You can't have him, not now." The woman was getting agitated and bordering on hysterics when Mike stepped up. "Barb? It's me, Mike." "M..Mike?" stuttered Barb. "You can't let them take Harry. You know when he started treatments that I promised him if they didn't work, I'd be with him in the end at home. You can't take him!" "The three of us have been friends for a long time. I know what Harry wants. We talked about it before...." said Mike in a calm voice, while looking at Cap. "... well, the last time we beached it in the dune buggy. Why don't we go into the kitchen and get a glass of water. You need to sit down for a minute. Roy and John will watch after Harry for a few minutes." Cap nodded his approval as Mike led Barb to another room. She was crying and holding onto Mike's arm like it was her lifeline. The whole time she muttered sadly, "You can't have him." over and over again like a mantra. Roy decided they would contact Rampart afterJohnny checked the machines hooked up to the dying man. Chet stood by to assist if needed, while Marco and Cap went to see about Mike and Barb. Cap wondered. ::How close was his engineer to this couple? Why hadn't he mentioned having a friend who was so ill?:: |
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************************************************** From: "Erin J." <etlhostej@voyagerliveaction.com> and "Patti" <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> in a tandemly written story posting. Date: Sun Nov 18, 2007 5:03 pm Subject: The Final Fight When the others were gone, Roy and Johnny made a point to minimize their presence officially by leaving their medical gear sitting by the front door, unopened. A slight gesture with their eyes, set Chet Kelly to guard and attend it until they could learn about any existence of legal papers concerning the terminally ill man. When Gage folded up his stethoscope and stuffed it into his jacket pocket, the pale eyes physically relaxed around their pain. A feeble hand tapped the bed, twice, in unmistakable invitation. Smiling gently, both firemen took off their helmets and set them onto their laps so they could sit on either side of the bed's edges, to join him. Roy dropped all formality and adopted an open and honest candidness while Johnny instinctively eyed up the treatment measures in place discreetly. "So, it's been a long time." DeSoto said in greeting. Harry managed to cough. "L-Long enough. I.. I've finally accepted the facts.. the way they are. My....only regret, is that she's-- Nothing now, makes her happy any more." he said weakly. Gage absently tapped the regulator on the flowing oxygen tank, adding comfort for comfort's sake to his laboring lungs. "You must love Barb very much to be fighting so long." The man's eyes darted for the first time from their tightened false calm to the door through which his wife had been led. "Oh, yes.." he said, tearing up. "Very much. But we...both know it's time." His voice cut off as a spasm of pain wracked his body. He grimaced. Gage gripped his hand, offering its warmth to the bony fingers, offering serenity in his face. "Is it too bad right now?" Again, the head pressed against the ample pillows, and nodded yes. "But I don't want her to see it. " he begged. "This has been such a...horrible disease. She's....so delicate." Roy smiled, finally deciding that the cancer was in his bones. "I only wish my wife, were half as devoted." DeSoto whispered kindly. A laughing glimmer of affection made it past the pain in the bright blue of the man's eyes. "Barb's my life. Still is... And I'm only afraid of the past tense she'll have to start telling folks about me, tomorrow." Harry gasped. "I know she's gonna hurt, even worse than I do now." DeSoto refolded a blanket that had fallen in Barb's haste to return order to the monitors methodically displaying Harry's core vitals. "Where's your nurse? You've several venous catheters from what we can see." Roy wondered a moment, before pulling the sheet back up under the man's chin, to rewarm him. Harry cackled wetly. "Sent away. There's.. there's no point is there? Someone like that nurses life and I'm a hopeless case. She was nineteen, fresh out of her clinicals, far too innocent for me. I was to be her first loss. We decided we didn't want to be her number one." said the man. "That wouldn't be a good legacy at all." Roy nodded respectfully, taking full measure of the man's pain on his soul. He noticed what Johnny was doing. And approved. Then he spoke. "Nothing will be set before Barb, that she can't handle, because life just doesn't ever work that way. For anybody. And I sincerely believe that." DeSoto told Harry softly. Sudden bright tears flooded anew in the dying man's eyes. "Ah, but she's going to be so lonely without me." he sobbed, his veneer of strength cracking. Gage flipped a switch to silence the tachycardia alarm, before it went off as the pulse he could barely feel under Harry's sweaty skin began to race. He had noticed the collection of framed pictures surrounding the bed, and over the burning logs in the fire place. "She'll have the kids. They're not here now, but they will be. For the both of ya, right?" Harry's face faltered with remembered sting. "I asked them not to come. Not until after. I don't want my grandkids to see me this way as their strongest memory of me. They're all still too young to ....understand what death is.." he declared. |
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------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Marco walked into the kitchen not long after Mike and Barb. Mike said, "Hey pal." "Hey Mike, you doing okay?" "Yeah. Barb, let me introduce you to somebody. This is Marco Lopez, our shift's resident chili expert." Barb smiled sadly, "Good to meet you Marco. Just wish it was under better circumstances." She offered them glasses of water from the sink, still actively fretting as she paced back and forth. Marco said, "So do all of us ma'am trust me." he said, passing on the offer. Barb and Mike both drank their water. Near them, Cap stayed quiet and kept an eye on both of them, just in case. |
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-------------------------------------------------------------------------- Roy deftly adjusted the crooked oxygen cannula in the man's nose. Then he busied himself with refilling its port's humidifier on the wall with a pitcher of saline that had been resting nearby on a homemade table. "They'll be here tomorrow then." DeSoto told him, not looking away. "Helping her every step of the way, once you're apart." He squeezed Harry's shoulder. "Sir, I wouldn't worry about anything at all about them. Barb'll be well cared for." Gage let go of the man's hand and folded it carefully back onto its cushion. "What do you want, for right now? That, you can do, and control." he joked. Harry seemed to grow more transparent as his defensive smile faded and as his heart continued to struggle with both the cancer and his warring emotions. "Help me fight." he said at last. "For just a little while longer." he pleaded. "I..I-I don't want her to know, ...how hard it's been." Johnny rubbed his mouth, growing uncomfortable. "You mean, you want some kind of pain med from us?" he stated, realizing the risks. Harry nodded. "Can you? I can't hide it any more. I just don't have the strength left." Roy swallowed, but still kept smiling faintly."Sir, you know if we do anything intravenously, we'll have to transport you." The man's machines protested in response. "Can't you make an exception in my case?" "That depends on a couple of things that we don't have the authority ourselves to decide." Gage told him, still disturbed. Harry interpretted Johnny's expression accurately. "Look, I'm not asking you to kill me. Quite the opposite. I just want to end this new pain." Johnny's face stiffened into neutrality. "I'm sorry, sir, but we can't. Not in your current condition, you'll pass out and perhaps not wake up again. Do you want that?" Harry melted visibly. Gage shared more bad news. "If your primary physician's decided that your I.V. pump running now, is where it's supposed to be, then he's the only one who can change it." "He's out of town! I've... I'm going a lot faster than any of us ever realized. Guess it's from all the stress." Johnny sighed, unsure of what to say but very clear on what position they had to take. So he took it to the next level. "Sir, do you have do not resuscitate orders?" he asked bluntly. Harry was growing angry and that was adding some momentum to his shaking voice. "Of course I do, they're.... she keeps them in that drawer over there.. In the night stand." Roy reached over, hesitating when he saw the man's face stiffen into another wave of nauseating pain. Finally he had them. "Sir, do you have the originals? These look like only partial copies." "What?" gasped the feather light, sick man. "Wait. I know they're.. they're around here somewhere. She's always so careful with all our papers whenever we draw one up. She always... puts it into the safety deposit box at the bank." Roy and Johnny exchanged a knowing look and failed to hide their dismay at a truth revealed. Harry saw their faces and he frowned again. "What? Is...is that a problem?" he whispered, sucking in a series of difficult breaths. DeSoto stayed frank and honest. "I'm afraid it is. Only the top, legal drafts in ink, are valid. They...they have to be displayed and present in order to override our rescue protocols." he said, leafing through them. "I don't understand." "We can't leave this house without you." Gage said simply, trying to be softer. Harry grew agitated. "No,..that's not what I want. I don't want to go ANYwhere else. We decided that with Dr. Thayer. Didn't she tell you?!" Roy held out a hand. "Easy, sir. Don't get over excited or you'll get more out of breath to the point where we'll have to start helping you." But Harry wouldn't listen. He writhed on the bed. "No! I'm not leaving, you.. you can't make--" The man broke off as a strangled choking jag demanded his full attention to manage. DeSoto looked over his shoulder as he raised the bed's head a little higher. "Chet!" he shouted. "I'm sorry,sir, but until we hear from your doctor or see the signed draft, we have to do everything in our power to keep you alive." Harry purpled as he struggled to breathe, furious. But then his consciousness began to slip and his eyes rolled up into the back of his head. The EKG sped up into a crisis string of PVC's. Roy leaned in closer. "Mr. Billings? Mr. Billings? Just try to relax. Can you hear me?" Roy asked, tipping back his head. The man drew in a long tortured, shuddering breath. "Roy?" Johnny asked as he began grabbing the drug box and airway management supplies that Kelly eagerly handed to him. "He's just tired, I think." DeSoto said, not letting go of Billings. "He's still got a viable carotid." Roy drew out an ambu bag to help him on his in's. "He's still awake." he reported. "Okay, I'll contact Rampart." Johnny said, setting up the biophone. "Kelly, go get Lopez. Get us,.." he said, tossing his head at Harry. "and him,.. portable." Chet nodded and hurried to the kitchen where Cap and Stoker stood comforting the distraught wife. Barb's head lay across her arm on the table. Kelly stopped in his tracks, dismayed. "Cap, is she sick? Does she need Roy or Johnny in here?" Chet asked as he entered. Hank shook his head. "No, we finally got her to calm down some. She's just resting a little, while we get her some coffee. What's up?" Chet jerked his head silently for him to follow him back to Harry. "Ah, Mike, could you look after the missus for a while? I'll be right back. I... forgot to give L.A. our update status when we got here." he fibbed. "Okay, Cap." said Stoker, getting the underlying hint right away. He couldn't hide the worry on his face as he did his job. Cap left them behind. Chet and Hank arrived just in time to see Roy deliver one more breath by bag valve to their bed seated patient, who was just starting to gasp weakily again. "Better now?" DeSoto asked, watching the man breathe. "All right, try on your own here." he encouraged as he took the mask away. |
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The husband fearfully obeyed, and began to relax as his color and muscles improved. Then, he actually smiled fractionally in his distress. "Now I... know why Barb keeps yelling at me all the time....to stay calm." "Yep." Gage grinned. "Here, let me get you cleaned up before she comes running in here all in another dither." Johnny deftly dried all traces of tears from Harry's eyes and cheeks." We ARE gonna figure all this out. Only you never gave us the chance to tell you first.." he joked. "Now get your heart rate down before she notices. Take a deep breath... Now a deeper one." he said, placing a hand on Harry's damp chest. "Okay, looks like it's over. But I still gotta call us in, all right?" he said holding up the biophone receiver. Harry nodded gratefully, no longer resisting. His scare had humbled him back into sensibility. "Okay,.. all right,..*cough* go ahead and do your paramedic thing. But I'm still not going.." he said firmly as Roy refitted him with a new non rebreather oxygen mask. Gage held up his hands in teasing self defense in a mock surrender."Let's run that by the doc in charge and see what he says." he said truthfully. Johnny opened up their squad's frequency. "Rampart, this is Rescue 51. How do you read?" At the hospital, a buzzer sounded in the E.R. Dr. Brackett entered the base station and thumbed the receiver. ##51, this is Rampart Base, go ahead.## Johnny replied, reading the information that he could from the DNR carbons in his hand. "Rampart, we've a conscious male, aged eight five in end stage blastocystic lymphoma and leukemia. Uh, we were called in secondarily by a third uninvolved party initially and not by either the patient or his immediate family. We have their yellow forms only. Patient was tachycardic and is just out of respiratory distress which was resolved with some manual assistance. Doc, we have a pretty good set up here, but with only partial ability to ascertain current ongoing treatment and therapy. Vital signs are: Central line B.P. is 90 over 62, pulse 100 and irregular, respirations are twenty six and shallow on six liters of home O2. His skin is cool and moist. EKG shows resolving sinus tachycardia with some q wave elevations remaining. Rampart, he threw some P.V.C.'s during his difficulty, but none are apparent now. Patient is on I.V. fluids with a locked, preset undeterminable narcotic for pain that is now ineffective. And by self declaration, he says that he is mordibund and does not wish to be transported. How do you advise?" he finished quickly, getting to the point for Harry's benefit. ##51, are you in contact with the patient's attending physician?## Kel asked. "That's a negative, Rampart. Our patient says that he's unavailable at this time." Brackett let out a huge sigh. ##There's no other option then, 51. I can't authorize a med without learning what else he's on without a guarantee of getting him in here. Either we find his doctor, or you find those original forms. My hands are tied at this point.## Kel expressed firmly. Gage let his breath out in a huff. "Rampart, stand by. I've got an idea." ##Standing by.## "Hey, Roy? Do you think she'll leave him long enough to go to the bank for those orders?" DeSoto, shrugged, watching Harry rest under the oxygen mask. "We could always ask." The man, gasping in front of them, moaned. "She's not gonna like that idea. She hasn't left my side since I was diagnosed as terminal. And it's been two years." Gage gulped, remembering Barb's earlier ire. He glanced up at Roy. "So,..will you ask her, or shall I?" he blinked at his partner. DeSoto's mouth slacked as he thought about it. "Neither." came a third voice at their elbows. "I'm the captain. I'll go ask." Hank Stanley said. Harry tried to chuckle. "Good luck." he hacked, reopening his eyes. |
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Respectfully, the gang watched him go. With that, the rest of the crew broke up and headed for the trucks to dry the dew off all their painted fenders and chrome. They all knew they'd never forget what they had witnessed that day and in that moment in Mike's quiet eyes. His devotion to friends and duty had absolutely...no parallel in ANY of themselves,.. the more they thought about it. **************************************************************** From: brenda murray (sniffles_76102@yahoo.com) Subject: Night Foray Sent: Fri 11/23/07 5:42 PM It was week after the Commander had passed away. Mike was back at work. The Christmas holidays were approaching. Mike decided if nothing else he would put on a happy face for the rememberence of the Commander. ::That's how he would have liked it. :: thought Stoker. Since daylight savings time, the night approached a lot faster, making it feel as if it was later then it was. The evening was quiet, the doors were locked up. The firemen were getting ready for a meal. Marco was cooking his enchiladas with this sliced avacados on the side. ::The quiet evening for us is just going to be a memory after this night ends most likely.:: thought Marco as he finished up. Marco went to open the back door to get a little air into the station, not knowing there was a gang in the alleyway having another fight over something or another. And as the door was being propped open with a chair, there was a ping, off the door. Marco felt a sharp pain in his hand, and the quiet evening ended. |
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************************************************** From: patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> Subject: Faster than a speeding... Date: Wed Nov 28, 2007 8:20 am Recoiling in complete shock, Marco fell back into the vehicle bay, cradling his left hand in his right. Looking down, he wasn't surprised to find profusely oozing blood welling up in between his fingers. ::What the h*ll? I've been shot?!:: he thought crazily. Thinking fast, he flipped over onto his belly long enough to inch back over to the open door so he could kick the door wedge free with a hasty foot. The heavy rear facing door, slammed shut again loudly, echoing like cannon shot around the bay. His hand began to throb in increasing agony as he crawled away from the thin aluminum garage door to the interior wall on the same side as the county map next to the mop cupboard. He groaned, his heart thudding in his torn hand as he finally gathered enough presence of mind to shout for the others now that he was in relative safety. "Cap! Guys! Call the police! I think I've been hit by some gunfire coming from the yard!" Outside, the commotion and loud arguing in Spanish, issuing from the car dealership over the cement wall, broke away with the sound of angry chasing feet, that Lopez recognized as being from at least four or more street kids. They hadn't even noticed the outcome of their silencer's bullet ricochet near the station. All some of them knew was that their target had been missed and was getting away. "Marco?!" came Cap's concerned shout. "Stay down! Where are they?" Lopez groaned, gasping with infuriated fright as he heard the others making sure things were safe around him. Someone killed the interior lights and began to crawl towards him with a flashlight in the sudden darkness. It was Chet. "How bad are ya?" "It's just the side of my hand. I'm not feeling a hole." Lopez panted. "Guys, I think they're gone. All of them ran after somebody else. I don't think they even knew I was there." Hank pulled himself up to the radio alcove and snagged down the mic and caught it after a yank on its cord. "Can you say that with absolute certainty they had no idea who they were firing at?" Stanley snapped in worry from his guarded place on the floor. "Well, no." "Well then shut up and don't move until Roy and Johnny get over there to check you out. L.A., Station 51. Shots fired. Fireman down. We need immediate police backup." he transmitted. Kelly grabbed Marco's wrist in both of his hands. "Come on. Let go." he said. "I can stem this better than you." "It's not that bad." Marco grunted painfully. |
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