



************************************************** From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com>
Date: Thu Jun 8, 2006 3:09 am Subject: That Small Town Charm..
That was once they
got over the fact that Avalon's hospital only had twelve patient beds.
Dr. William Greene nodded
at his head nurse. "Jo,..I'm ordering up these lab studies on Mr. Lopez : A CBC with manual differential
and peripheral blood smear, a prothrombin time and activated partial thromboplastin time, along
with a fibrinogen and split products test. Get a type and cross and blood chemistries, including
electrolytes, BUN, creatinine. We'll need to get a urinalysis to check for myoglobinuria and an
arterial blood gas determination since he's feeling some systemic symptoms. Besides that leg, please
order up a baseline chest radiograph, I found some mild P.E. Oh, and a plain radiograph to rule
out any retained fangs."
"I'll get right on it. And I'll be right back with all of you boys."
said the silver haired round nurse named Jo Swett as she picked up a phone to call the hospital's
on duty pink lady to handle getting the needed specimen samples Bill had ordered.
Roy and
Johnny's eyebrows went up completely when she recited Greene's verbatim word for word to her staffer
without scribbling down a single note.
"How'd you do that?" Gage sputtered when she was through.
He immediately checked himself in embarrassment at being so blunt. "I mean,.. remember what he ordered
so well."
Jo smiled. "I've been doing this a long time. Since 1966, Mr. Gage. And in the early
days, we didn't have computers and even now we don't have student nurses to transcribe any orders
down as they're given. It's just me to make due."
Roy turned back to Dr. Greene who was washing
his hands clean in a sink behind his nurse. "So how's he doing, doc? The rest of the fellas over
there and I really want to know." he said throwing a hand at the others seated in a small waiting
area. He watched as the doctor peered around the x-ray machine getting wheeled in for Marco's
use.
Greene grabbed up a blue surgical towel to dry off. "Well, the guilty culprit who bit
your friend has definitely been identified as a Pacific rattler. And we all know that in 80% of cases,
their bites are usually dry and harmless. I ordered those tests just as a precaution."
That
got Chet's attention from the chair he sat in nearby. "You mean, he's not gonna need any antivenin?
What about all that swelling and the fever he had going last night?"
"That was poison oak exposure
and what I think is a simple fibula fracture working." said the doctor. "Those were purely reflex
immunological responses. Nothing else."
Kelly went limp against the medical desk in obvious relief.
"That's great." said Captain Stanley. "So how long will Marco have to stay here? You see, we're
on vacation and--"
Bill smiled, looking fatherly. "Captain, all of my patients with the
exception of a rare winter local or two, are tourists like yourself. I assure you Mr. Lopez will be
tied up only long enough to be fitted for a walking cast and an application of hydrocortisone for
his rash. His vital signs are very normal now."
"Really?" asked Stoker.
|



Bill nodded. "I'll get right back to you folks as soon as I get a little repair work done. Up there.."
he said pointing to the ceiling.
Johnny's eyebrows went up.
Greene explained. "The city
wanted someone doctoring on the island, if a tile breaks on the roof, who would be up there in
his boots, hammering. I have many different hats. I'm Avalon Municipal's CEO, doctor, city official
and general handyman. Nine years ago, my wife Trish and I had our belongings hauled here on a
barge when I took this job. And since then, I've never looked back to the mainland. I love it
here. We have our usual small town challenges. Avalon has 4,200 permanent residents, all of whom
pick up their mail at a central post office and go days without milk or bread whenever storms
prevent shipments from the mainland. And I usually take my house calls on a golf cart as I'm the
only full time physician on staff."
Roy and Johnny blinked skeptically.
"Don't worry."
he told the two paramedics."When it's gets busy, we have four temporary physicians, who rotate in
from the mainland every five,six, or seven days. Usually, that's not necessary though since we
at the hospital average only about two patients a day."
Cap gaped. "Why that's hardly enough to
cover your overhead costs." he exclaimed in surprise.
Greene nodded, taking up a coffee pot
and holding it out for the others in invitation. Only Chet accepted a cup. "I have a 10-by-10-foot
office at the far end of the hospital with one administrative assistant helping me manage things.
Last year, we had more than $2 million dollars worth of services that had gone uncollected."
"Why's that?" Roy asked.
"The city runs all potential critical patients to the mainland, once
they've been stabilized here, by helicopter. Trip takes about thirty minutes. And the ruling about
state sales taxes being 30% higher on the island only puts a dent into our budget deficit because
in the winter, our population dwindles down to just a few, like any other tourist town along the coastline,
and their potential revenue leaves with them. But we're making good headway." Greene said. "We've
just about gotten through a huge pile of old bills that had been sitting on the office floor for
the past six months.'' he winked. "Excuse me. But a storm's coming. I've that roof to see to next.
Ask Jo for absolutely anything you need, and it'll be done." he winked. "I'll catch up more with
you when I get back."
The gang waved and then got a hold of their mutual collective head shakes
of wonder and amazement.
|



Chet leaned into the counter and sagged almost nose to nose with their nurse. "So, Ms. Swett, how
did such an attractive nurse like you get to end up here? The Coast Guard pilot seemed to know
a lot about you and a mutual friend of ours."
"Oh, you mean Dixie? How's she doing? It's been
a few months since we've exchanged letters." answered Jo, not buying one minute of Chet's Don Juan-ing
bull.
"She's fine. She's fine. Still at it at the front desk of the emergency room." Gage told
her empathetically. "But how come she's never mentioned ya to us?"
"Maybe that's because we
get along so famously. Dixie usually only grouses about people who've irked her in some way to
her friends."
Roy started grinning. "Dr. Morton, Dr. Brackett.. that high powered administrator
upstairs...." he listed off. "That's true."
Jo laughed and took a deep breath. "Actually Mr. Kelly,
I saw a want ad that changed my life. What I was doing with Dixie in pediatrics at Rampart wasn't
what I wanted to do." she said. "I grew up in Boston, so the idea of moving to an island was
interesting. Here I can provide in-home care to a variety of patients, and I simply love the night
shift. I figure I am the only nurse in the whole United States who works all by herself at night.
I get up in daylight for emergencies, like yours today."
"Is Avalon Municipal a full service hospital?"
asked DeSoto.
"Oh, sure. We can do tonsillectomies, hernia repairs, hysterectomies and gall
bladder surgeries, minor trauma repair. The surgeons fly in from St. Mary's and bring their own anesthesiologists.
Usually the local doctor, Bill Greene, is the assistant." she said proudly with amusement. "And
when we're having a baby, I like to go around to the other patients and I ask them, 'Are you going
to need anything, we're going to have a baby now.' And once the baby's born I love taking the
infant on rounds to meet the other patients while the mother's recovering."
Johnny chuckled.
"Do you get many emergency cases in any given year."
"Oh, yes.." said Jo empathetically. "Especially
in the summer. Like now. Recently we've had a lot of cases like Mr. Lopez's."
"Really.." said
Hank. "I thought our man's rescue was highly unusual."
Jo shrugged. "People seem to fall prey
to the James Bond syndrome when they get here; what else can I say? Everybody gets the feeling that
they're invincible while they're diving or flying Catalina. I've never understood that effect. But
I appreciate that it pays my salary." she laughed. "The pace is slow, with the upgrades in my training
and visiting patients, I'll admit. But there's a certain charm here that I've since fallen in
love with. I didn't learn how to do an IV until 1970, but now I've lifeguard paramedics to rely on.
I enjoy what I do I've no plans to retire anytime soon for there's a record I want to hold first
- Oldest Working Nurse in California."
"So, are you gonna make it?" Chet quipped daringly.
Hank smacked his arm, right on the sunburned spots.
"Oww!" Chet protested.
Jo only
smiled, used to firefighters' antics. "There are one or two who are older," she said. "I just hope
they retire before I do."
Mike Stoker had wandered over to the baby window, noticing a single
infant sleeping in an incubator, on an ekg machine. It was only then that the others noticed a sound
monitor turned on at Jo's desk near her hand. A contented coo issued from it.
Curious, the
gang joined him to see the baby.
"Aww, she's cute. Where's her mother?" Stoker asked Jo, who had
followed them over.
"She doesn't have one." said Jo simply.
The look on the gang's faces
registered incomprehension.
"Baby Jane was left at our fire department steps about a day after
she was born." Jo told them quietly.
Chet soured. "But who could just up and leave a newborn like
that. That's...that's...insane..!" he finally said.
"Not really. Ever heard of the Safe Surrender
law just passed this year in the state of California?" Swett said.
The gang shook their heads
no.
"The City of Avalon is ready to accept unwanted newborns and get them into safe hands.
No questions asked. If the mother does the right thing and gets her baby to a designated safe surrender
location within 72 hours of birth, there will be no shame, no blame, no names and there will
be no prosecution. The Avalon Fire Department is a vital link in a strategy to create a countywide
safety net of Safe Surrender locations so underpriviledged babies won't ever have to suffer their
parents socio-economically suppressed lifestyles."
Roy was the only one who understood those
ramifications. "There is a need for it. I'm glad such a law exist now, for sometimes, Johnny and
I treat those kids and babies. And everytime, we've felt helpless that there wasn't anything further
we could do for the mother after she signed off on our run sheet simply because she knew she couldn't
ever pay our ambulance costs."
The gang spent a warm few minutes playing with the soon to be
named baby girl until Marco was declared ready for visiting.
A half hour had gone by with everybody
eating breakfast spread out over Marco's bed inside of his curtain cubicle, when Bill returned
with his results.
|


"Marco.." said Dr. Greene. "You're fine. Your bloodwork's peachy king and your cast, perfect. But
I wouldn't recommend you fellas returning to your campsite just yet. There's a storm approaching.
I'm offering my house to all of you for sheltering while I'm working here tonight. Jo and I might
get a few emergency cases coming from the water. Tourist boat outfitters always get a little stupid
in squalls like this. And it looks like this one's going extratropical."
"Oh, no.." said
Hank. "You mean like the Columbus Day storm of 1962 that started as Hurricaine Freida?"
"I'm
afraid so."
Stanley stepped forward and briskly shook Bill's hand. "Doc, I appreciate it. We'll
definitely take you up on that offer. But now we've got to go. We've family out flying at the
airport."
"Who?" asked Jo.
DeSoto frowned. "My father and son. Let's hope they both don't
think that they can outfly it like James Bond."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The gang was halfway to the tiny terminal tower on the mountain when the rain began. Doctor Green
suddenly came over their hand held VHF radio.. ##The storm's definitely going to hit Avalon. The
fire department advises no travel.##
"We'll be careful.." Cap promised him.
Roy studied
the sky that was still half clear from where he sat in the shuttle. "Where are they? How could they
miss seeing a cloud that big?"
"I don't know the answer to that, Roy. But I promise you, we'll
find out once we get there, one way or the other.." said Hank.
|


************************************************** From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com>
Date: Thu Jun 8, 2006 1:39 pm Subject: Final Scene: Storms and Waters...
"Twice in
one day? You're starting to make my boys smile, Captain Stanley.." said Chief Hoefs as he climbed
down off of his station's fire truck as it arrived to the tarmack at the Airport In The Sky.
Hank
shrugged. "What's sharing little business between firemen, eh?" he joked. But then his face transmuted
into intense worry.
Mike Stoker offered the chief an update. "Sir, Chris DeSoto's been talking
to us over the plane's radio."
"How far are out are they?" Hoefs asked seriously.
Roy added
more. "My father's really got his hands full with just flying so that's why my son's been the
one doing all the radio contact. Chris says they're about five miles to the west, northwest, flying
through an active thunderhead. They've lost power due to a lightning strike and they've two failed
engines."
"Do they still have fine control?" asked Hoefs.
"Their wing and tail flap hydraulics
are all still reactive." DeSoto said.
Hank shouted over the powerful, wind gusting rainfall
that was turning Catalina gray and frightening around them. "LAX says that they're in a good
power-off glide back to the island. They were following the shortest route from Long Beach while
over water, to see Land's End which Chris said was mapped in a flight plan of twenty two nautical
miles."
Steve thought hard, trying to remember some facts about flying small aircraft. "The
midway point of that route would be 11 NM. If your pilot remembered to check the performance chart
for your airplane and see which altitude gave him a power-off gliding distance of 11 NM or greater,
they should make back here, ok. "
"That's if they remembered to factor in the headwind component."
said Stanley.
"Boy are we lucky they filed a flight plan with a request for VFR flight following."
said Roy. "LAX got their distress call right away and put them on immediate priority."
"Where
are they showing up on the mainland radar?" Hoefs asked.
|

 |
 |

Roy shrugged his shoulders."I can't recall all the jargon, but a minute ago, Chris said he could
see the lights of Two Harbors at the isthmus."
"Then they're eight minutes out, tops. We'll
be ready. Best of luck, Hank." Hoefs said, crossing the fingers on his fire gloves. "Here's to
talking them down successfully." said the yellow and tan outfitted fireman.
"Piece of cake."
said Hank with very sound, positive feeling while he gave his counterpart a resounding thumbs up.
"See you when they touch down."
Steven Hoefs jogged away and began barking orders to his men
to string hoses from a ground hydrant located near the airport building, mated to a small foam
unit. Soon, a thick blanket of suppressant lay in a slurry across many dozens of feet along the terminal
end of the high altitude scrubland runway.
Luckily, the rising storm winds didn't blow any
of it away.
Then the Avalon firecrew set about laying two rows of cherry flares to illuminate
the full length and stretched outline of the rocky runway. They were so bright, that the even the
storm fierce night lit up in a brillant red glow from their multiple burning brands.
Johnny
Gage had borrowed county turnout from Station 55 as had the rest of them, and he used a brainstormed
idea of climbing the back of a nearby parked airplane to gain a better vantage point of the odd downsloping
runway 22 through his binoculars. He shouted down to the others. "I don't see them yet, Cap. Chris's
turned on the cabin lights so we can spot them a little better."
"Keep looking." said Stanley.
"Give us the play by play, Johnny, over your radio so Roy'll know what to tell them as help while
they're attempting to land. Some of their cockpit instruments may have been knocked out, too,
and nonfunctional!"
##Dad, I'm scared.## boomed out Chris's voice over the fire engine speaker
that Hoefs had tandem tuned into the plane's radio frequency and put out over the loud speaker so
that all of his men could hear the plane.
Roy held up his plastic coated VHF Radio set to
Unicom's frequency that was connecting all of them to Ian DeSoto's cockpit. "Chris, we're all right
here with ya. And yes, the fire department's all set up and waiting for both of ya to stick the best
possible landing you can." encouraged DeSoto, who tried very hard to not to let his voice tighten
with emotion to where it would be audible to his son.
|

 |
 |

##Is the storm growing worse?##
"Yeah, Chris. I'm afraid it's....it's pretty bad fairly close
to us to the east because we're so high up on top of the mountain." Johnny said in his own handheld
receiver.
##Dad,.. I think grandpa's not telling me something. I think he's been hurt by a
panel overload and isn't telling me.## said the teenager. ## I think I see a burn on his palm that
wasn't there before we took off.##
"How's his consciousness level?" asked Roy, biting his lip.
::If Ian blacks out..:: he quailed.
##He's still talking, but we're wavering all over the place.
And he's sweating. Kinda pale.##
"Hang on, Chris. We're gonna come up with a backup plan for
you.." s0aid Roy. "You just try to keep Grandpa focused, all right?"
|

 |
 |

Then he, Cap, Stoker and Avalon's fire chief fell into hurried discussion about other options for
landing. Roy signaled up to Johnny with his arms outstretched like wings and waggled them into firm
stillness like he was steadying himself.
Johnny got that idea right away. Gage spoke up.
"Listen, Chris.. can you at least take over the plane's leveling handles? You're almost scot free.
Ian can probably still do the rest of the hard parts."
##I....can...## grunted Ian DeSoto
through the radio. ##Not much ...lightning....got to me....## gasped his strained voice.
Chris's
voice came back on. ##Grandpa's showing me how to steady the wings, Dad. I think I can do this...##
he said excitedly.
"I know you can, son." said Roy empathetically, letting the rain wash away
a tear of fright.
Johnny began signalling away from his radio mic. "I see em! But there's a
problem.. They're approaching us going the wrong way in relation to the runway. About two miles out."
The Chief issued another fast set of orders. "Boys, lay the other end in foam. Fast as you can.
Their pilot's probably reversed his landing to try and handle all this fouling weather to get the
best advantage. Move!" he said crisply.
The fire truck crew hastened to carry them out. Soon,
the second location for foamed countermeasures was ready with yet another team of firefighters
held at hose charged readiness.
At the same time, Johnny yelled again. "I lost sight of the plane.
A cloud bank's rolled in! I'll try to find em again." Hoefs smiled under his water cascading
helmet. "Your father's a smart man, DeSoto. He's getting the airport cliff's wind shear quirk
out of the way first. Don't worry about medical gear for him. We've plenty for you and your partner
to use."
Roy kept running cardiac anomaly scenarios through his head despite the Chief's kind
reassurances.
##I see you!## said Chris suddenly as the stricken, silent plane burst through
a black fold in the storming clouds with a crack of thunder, illuminated by lightning flash.
|

|
 |
 |

"I've a positive visual! They're right on track!" Gage said at the same time.
"Thank G*d they've
run the gauntlet over that cliff ok.." sighed Roy. Then he picked up his radio. "How are the two of
you doing, Chris? Talk to me.."
There was no reply.
"Chris?!" Roy said sharply. "Can
you hear me?"
He received nothing but static over the radio. Frustrated, Roy let the radio
fall away from his mouth. With nothing else possible for him to do, Roy felt his eyes glue to the
storm silhouetted outline of white aircraft that Johnny was pointing to that was careening in
jerks as it came down out of the sky.
All the fireman froze in place as the next few seconds determined
the make or break of imminent disaster.
The little cessna's wheels touched down dead center of
the cherry flares and absolutely parallel with their glowing white smoke sputtering rows.
Roy, Johnny, Cap and the others began cheering as they leaped onto Avalon's fire engine to rush down
the runway after them.
A minute later, the cessna was dead stopped and safe.
Roy climbed
onto the little plane's wing and pulled the door open. Chris had had the foresight to start Ian on
the aircraft's tiny oxygen supply in a first aid attempt. "How's he doing?"
Chris answered.
"He was just awake and talking to me, Dad, I don't understand it."
|

 |
 |

"Dad?" asked Roy, "Can you hear me?" he shouted frantically as he scrambled on board. He dug a grip
around Ian's neck feeling for a carotid. "Can you breathe all right?"
The older man didn't
move..
But then, Ian nodded, and took another solid deep breath under the oxygen's flowing
face mask. And for show, he moved all of his arms and legs normally.
DeSoto sighed in relief
when his fingers found a very regular and uncomplicated heartbeat down to the wrist. "No kerauno-
or respiratory paralysis is present. Not even slightly, Johnny. Let's get him outta here and
into the ambulance." he sighed in relief. Then he looked over at his son proudly. "You did a good
job, Chris. A very good job."
"I didn't do anything, Dad. Grandpa did all the work. I just
helped him out a little bit with all the levelling."
"Yeah, well that little bit saved you
both. I'm proud of ya. We all are. Come on out of there so Johnny can get to work starting Dad's
I.V. here. I've got someone I'd like you to meet outside."
"Who is he, Dad?" Chris wondered.
"Just think of him as Captain Stanley's island counterpart." he grinned. "Only a rank up. We owe him
a very large favor for being here for us today. Twice, for that matter." he admitted.
"Why
twice, Dad? And where's Marco? I don't see him anywhere out there."
"Well, Chris. That's a
very long story. It just so happens those two facts are concurrent. I'll tell you once we're all warm,
dry and comfortable at our new host, Dr. Greene's house."
"Ok.."
Hank Stanley came
over just then, grinning. "Hey Roy, would you take a look at that? Guess what kind of ambulance they
sent up here to meet us.."
"What is it?" asked DeSoto, opening up his father's shirt collar a
little wider as he peered out through the rain showered windshield.
|


"It's a 1959 ...Catalina..." Stanley elaborated.
"Well, I'll be." chuckled DeSoto, laughing out
loud.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The storm raged through most of the night, pounding Avalon Harbor and doing its best to damage
infrastructure. But no more crises developed. The weather warnings put out by the county had done
their job of keeping all of Catalina Island's tourists and locals safe.
Chet came out of the bedroom
of Dr. Greene's cliffside house and marvelled at the view glowing in a brilliant sunny dawn splendor
just beyond the glass panes framing the many windowed living room space. "Wow, this is the life.
No wonder Bill bought land way up here. He's got this place laid out like a mountainside ski chalet.
Although it would've completed the illusion if we had some serious snowing going on." Kelly sighed,
putting his hands on his hips.
"That storm we didn't sleep through last night was more than
enough for me, Chet. You can keep your snow." said Roy as he rebound his father's electrical burn.
"How's that, not too tight?"
"It's fine, son. And yes, my headache's gone, too." said Ian, still
loafing in an opulent leather recliner. "Once you two annoying paramedics decide you're done fussing
with Marco and I, go out and have a little fun, huh?"
"Who's fussing?" said Johnny as he finished
pulling a blood pressure cuff of Marco's arm. "We're only following Bill's orders to make sure
you two relax enough to start healing properly." Gage said drolly.
Ian ignored him. "And take
Chris with you. Show him a good time for me. I gotta find some way to thank him for saving me."
"Oh, Grandpa.." exclaimed Chris in his warm teenaged baritone.
Lopez jumped on the bandwagon.
"Yeah, guys. We'll both manage. Can't say we're not in the lap of luxury here in the house. Wide screen
TV, a wet bar, a jacuzzi..."
"Not in that cast.." Gage shook a finger at him.
"Johnny,
I was only kidding about the whirlpool. I do know better." Marco frowned, taking another sip of his
iced tea. "And if we get tired we can always go out onto the deck and nap in the sun."
|

 |
 |

Roy and Johnny looked around their rich, airy surroundings skeptically, but finally, in the end,
they relented. "Fair enough. Ok, we'll go." said Cap for the rest of them.
"Take plenty of
pictures for us. Then we'll have something to look at for this day we're missing..." said Marco empathetically
as the guys and Chris trudged out the door with full sets of waving hands.
"We will.." they
said.
|

 |
 |

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The
gang was settled happily. They were enjoying a beach picnic at Parsons Landing while they lazily watched
a scuba boat conducting its tourist pair through a diving experience just past the surfline.
Chet's sunburn had reached the peeling stage and he absently scratched while he munched away on five
legs of Stoker's fried chicken. "Umm, Mike. Excellent as usual.... Say, guys, maybe we should
make him cook chicken on a BBQ outside when we get home when it's his turn to cook again back at the
station. Maybe we'll be able recreate today's dream feast if we do that."
"Not in a million
years.." said Stoker. "I hate getting smoke in my eyes without a good reason for it."
"Spoken
like a true veteran firefighter.." chuckled Cap.
Roy smiled. "So, Chet, what's on the agenda for
today? We've already tried hang gliding.. What's next?"
"Surfing lessons.."
"Surfing
lessons? Are you out of your everloving mind?!" roared Hank. "There's still massive storm surge out
there. You like the idea of drowning in it?"
"No one's gonna drown, Cap. Johnny and I just
wanna park on our stomachs on top of our boards and--"
"Gage,..you didn't encourage him on
this, did you?" Stanley asked, redirecting his instant ire.
"Uh,..." Johnny stopped chewing
his potato salad.
Chris began to giggle, pointing at Gage from where he said on their medical
bag.
Kelly thrust Johnny out further along the limb. "He sure did. You see, Gage thought it
would be less risky for us to swim today than to try flying anything after the experiences we've
had to live through during the last two days." said Chet.
"Thanks a lot.." hissed Johnny through
his teeth at Chet.
Kelly ignored him and took another sip of Diet Rite.
"Nope. I forbid
it." Hank said evenly.
"You can't do that to us, Cap.. we're on vacation.." Gage protested. "We're
not at the station for you to have the power to order us around."
"I'm not doing any forbidding
because of how we usually work together while on the time clock. I'm putting my foot down because
the two of you forgot something very fundamental about our outing today."
"Oh, yeah?" Johnny
asked, still a little stung. "And what's that?"
Both Roy and Cap said the same thing at the same
time. "A permit. "
Chet and Johnny both looked at each other wanly.
|


© All coming diving photos by Joseph Dougherty, MD/ecology.org
|

|

|

Roy elaborated. "You need one to enter the water for any kind of ocean activity here. It's in the
park rules. See?" he said handing over a pamphlet. "Just read here by the number six."
Gage
snatched it out of his hands, reading fast in irritation, with an equally miffed Chet, reading over
his shoulder. In a few seconds, Johnny balled up and threw the park guidelines away over his head
in disgust.
"No littering's allowed either.." said Hank matter of fact, with a neutral grin,
pointing absently at the wad spinning in the sand in the wind.
Chet pinned the pale yellow
paper down onto the sand with a newly flaking bare foot before an arriving gust could blow it
away, and just glowered.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Deep under the water, a diving instructor was doing a head count of his two tourist students
while they explored a thick kelp forest that was rising up from the rocky floor thirty feet below.
Their flipper strokes were lazy. :: All normal. These two catch on fast.:: he thought. ::Ahhh,
so it's gonna be easy fee earning today. Cool..::
|


He had just looked at his watch to time their remaining regulator air when the man of the couple
suddenly fell motionless to the bottom. ::Oh, sh*t..:: thought the instructor and he dove down
to where the woman was panicking below as she gestured at her arms and legs still husband.
The
instructor pulled the woman away from the man's face plate after making sure she had her own air still
safely in her own mouth. He peered at the man's face through his mask. His eyes were open and dulled
in a thousand-yards stare. ::He's out...::
|


The instructor dropped the man's weight belt completely off and then the woman's and his own as he
grabbed the unconscious husband around the chest for an emergency ascent to the surface. As he
kicked himself and his victim upward, he kept looking down to make sure that the woman was following
them. ::We'll make it fine here without a decompression stop. We've only been down ten minutes.::
What he didn't know what that the couple had been diving the morning before with another dive
company at depths below sixty feet. Unbeknownst to him, serious problems for them were already
starting.
|


He got to the surface, tore off the husband's mask, and listened at his nose and mouth for any signs
of breathing. He found none. Immediately, he began mouth to mouth on the man as he swam him rapidly
into the shore.
The wife's head broke the surface a few breaths later and she began to scream,
not for her drowned husband, but for the sudden cramps which were knotting up all of her limbs at
the major joints. The instructor grabbed her by the hair with his other hand and began shouting for
help at the people he saw lounging on the beach..
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Chris looked up at a sudden shouting from the water.
Other people in black wets suits and
other private diving parties had heard it, too, for they began running as fast as they could
for the foaming surfline. "Dad! Those three out there are in trouble!" he said pointing out to sea.
"Grab the medical bag, Chris. Bring it with you.." said DeSoto, leaping to his feet.
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Johnny started to say something, too. "Cap--"
"I know.. Call for help, then grab both oxygen
cylinders from the golf cart. Just get going!" he said, sending Chet along with them.
Just
ahead, they could see a dive instructor dragging a man, divested of his scuba gear, through the violent
surf while keeping up his steady artificial respiration.
The worst victim's color now, was
turning blue.
Gage and Chet ran for him first while a civilian diver from the beach met up
with the struggling second woman fighting the waves a little distance away from the others. He picked
her up and carried her into shore by piggy back.
She went limp in relief as he got hold of
her.
"I got her head."said Roy, reaching him. "Let's get her laid out flat on the sand. Raise
her feet up as soon as you can."
"Are you a doctor?" asked the woman's rescuer.
"No. We're
all firemen. Myself and my partner over there are paramedics. We can treat them until help arrives
using our emergency medical kits." DeSoto said, helping the man get her out of the water.
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---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The instructor
collapsed in exhaustion onto the beach, but waved Chet away briskly when he saw that Kelly had started
over to his side. "Just help the diver guy. I'm...ok." he gasped.
Kelly rejoined Johnny over
the unconscious man's body. Gage looked up at him. "He's got no pulse either. Start on him first,
Chet. Chris's coming with an oxygen tank." he said, unzipping the husband's wetsuit to locate a
fast compression landmark. He began some solid CPR.
Kelly stayed on the diver's mouth to mouth,
pausing only to drain seawater out of the man's nose when whenever it welled up and out of him. Chet
noticed that it was laced with bright blood and pink foam. "He's lung injured, Johnny. If it's
barotrauma or just water inundation, I can't tell."
"Doesn't matter. Just .....keep going. That's
not going to........be his only...... problem here." he grunted as he worked. "We've got to.....assume
he's developed....the bends... I think his wife... has, too." he said, looking up at Roy where
he and Hank knelt in the sand.
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He saw that DeSoto had raised the woman's feet up high on his medical pack despite her difficult
breathing. ::He's trying to keep nitrogen bubbles from traveling up into her brain or heart.:: he
thought. Then Johnny couldn't afford to consider the other things any more while he concentrated
on keeping the stricken diver under his hands circulation viable long enough for the coming slim
chance that a lifeguard's defibrillator might shock him back to life.
Dimly, he was aware
of Cap relaying to a Baywatch crew and the Coast Guard, their camping coordinates using VHF Channel
16 over their ever present hand held radio. ::We're getting into a habit here with calling out
for help all the time on vacation now, aren't we?:: his mind thought ironically.
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Roy was smiling at the woman while Cap gently dissuaded her from pulling off her flowing oxygen
mask. "Maam, we're working on your friend now. He's out of the water. I need you to answer a few
questions for me while I check you out here to determine your true condition. I'm Roy, a paramedic
with the county, and this is my fire station's captain, Hank Stanley. Can you tell me who you and
your friend are at all?" he asked her.
The frightened woman yelled out a reply. "God I hurt!..
Make it stop. I...can't....br--"
"Easy. Just try to relax. Help's on the way, ma'am." Stanley
told her while he quickly dug a hole for her head so that it would tip backwards a bit into the
sand so that she could breathe a little better. "There. It'll be easier now. Try to answer Roy again.
He needs to know how you're doing, ms., in order to treat you using the best way possible."
The woman began trembling under their hands, but she started talking to them a few seconds later.
"My ....name's Callie Johnson. That's ...*gasp* Scott, my...my......uh,...we're m - married.." she
got out.
"Ok, good, Callie." said Roy, taking her pulse and respiration count. When he was
through, he asked, "Mrs. Johnson. Can you tell me where you are?"
"B--beach. I'm at the..beach."
she cried.
"That's right. And what day is it?" Cap asked her, helping Roy with gathering details
while the paramedic took a fast set of bilateral BPs.
"Sunday.."
"Do you remember anything
about the dive you were just doing?" Hank asked her.
The woman's face frowned, the left side
of her mouth sagging a bit, as some new confusion set in. "I was....diving?" she asked through
the oxygen mask.
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The diving instructor, DeSoto and Cap all exchanged glances with each other. The woman had a definite
neurological deficit building up.
Roy pulled the stethoscope out of his ears. "Ok. Now
I want you to follow my finger with your eyes, Callie. Don't move your head. Do you understand?" asked
Roy. Then aside he said. "Cap, put down the time and these BP readings on paper. 110/70 on the
left side and 90/50 on the right." he told Hank.
The instructor, watching both groups working
nearby, startled. "She's stroking out?"
"Perhaps not.." said Roy. "It's too soon to tell yet.
These signs just might be temporary effects. How deep were you?"
"Twenty five, maybe thirty
feet.." replied the dive instructor. "I never take new divers any deeper than that. The risks are
high enough as they are."
Roy learned Callie tracked visually just fine, without any indication
of doll's sign. "Can you hear these sounds equally?" he said, snapping his fingers first over her
left ear and then over her right.
"Y--yes.." she gasped, breathing hard. Callie's skin was pale
and slightly blue in the fingernails despite the pure oxygen upon which she was hyperventilating.
Hank covered her with a thick layer of beach towels for warmth.
DeSoto reached out for
Chris's necklace. It was a vial of cologne he knew his son was fond of using. He uncorked it. "Callie,
what's this smell?" he asked, moving her oxygen mask away long enough to wave the necklace's vial
under her nose.
Callie couldn't answer him and she shook her head. "I.....I.....I don't know.."
she cried. "How's Scott? I.. I can't see him from here!"
They didn't tell her about him.
DeSoto continued his fine neuro exam. It would save a lot of time at the hyperbaric decompression
center, he knew, if this was already completed and out of the way. "Smile for me, Callie, then
stick out your tongue."
Callie couldn't on the left side. And her tongue deviated to the right
side corner of her mouth when she thought that it was sticking out straight.
"That was just
a check on certain cranial nerves. Now, I'm gripping both of your hands." said Roy gently. "Are
you left or right handed?"
"Right.." gasped Callie.
"Ok, so you'll be stronger on that
side." Cap continued. "Squeeze Roy's hands, Callie. Squeeze both of them at the same time. Hard
as you can."
Callie was about the same in both grips.
Stanley and Roy tested Callie's
body for sensations and ability all the way down to her toes.
They looked at shoulder shrugging,
how she could push up or down against pressure put to all of her limbs, whether or not she could
bend her knees or move them apart.....
Then they swept her skin, testing sharp and dull responses
on it using a ball point pen. She did fine there, discerning normally.
But Callie's Babinski's
response was positive, her toes curled upward when Roy stroked both feet from heel to toe along
the bottoms of the young woman's feet.
They found that Callie could not distinguish between hot
or cold when they ran either an ice cube or a sun-hot rock along her skin anywhere above the
waist on her left side. Nor could she successfully touch her left index finger to her nose on command.
Her hand kept arching and going wide, only to hit the sand next to her head.
"Ok, we've found
the data we need to know about." said Roy after those few minutes. "I've written everything down for
the doctor. He'll be better qualified in psychometric medicine than I, Cap." he said to Cap while
both firefighters monitored the stressed and fleeing reactions coming and going on Callie's wind
drying face.
Chris was right there, too, holding her good hand to comfort her, while he kept
tabs on what was left of the oxygen tank's compressed liters as they flowed out to her through their
high flow mask. "These men are really good at what they do, Callie.." he soothed. "I should know.
My dad's the best paramedic in the county. Soon, you'll have answers for everything that's happening
once the doctor begins to treat you and your husband."
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Roy smiled when he saw his son using a few fingers to brush away some of the woman's fear with soft
gentle strokes to her sandy hair.
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Soon, transportation came. It was Baywatch Isthmus, arriving by boat after it was decided that
even a helicopter flight's low altitude would further complicate both victims' already bends-aggravated
conditions.
During the whole forty five minute trip to the USC Catalina Hyperbaric Chamber,
the thirty two foot lifeguard boat's Cummings diesel engines, were pushed to their fastest speeds
in excess of 30 knots in an attempt to cut down the Golden Hour that they all knew was playing out.
They reached the west end of the island right at noon and were met by a crowd of chamber volunteers
who were on call there twenty four hours a day, seven days a week for just this sort of diver
emergency.
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The male diver was whisked away into the first blue painted chamber while his cardiopulmonary resuscitation
was continued aggressively. Johnny agreed to join Leo Fishman, the Baywatch paramedic, in recompressing
the man for this new attempt to save him. Gage knew that sometimes, on occasion, a diver in full
arrest could, upon reaching a critical pressure in the chamber, regain a pulse. He had seen it happen
before during other decompression accident sessions in his past.
He was banking on that possible
effect for the wife's sake.
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---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Callie on
the other hand was being told what to expect before she was loaded up into her own chamber for treatment.
The dive center's doctor explained everything to Callie while the tank was prepared to receive
her and the second Baywatch paramedic who would be helping Roy monitor her condition during those
hours. "For your treatment, Mrs. Johnson, this chamber will be compressed by sealing its doors
and pumping in high-pressure air. You'll keep breathing in this pure oxygen as we go along. The
combination of high pressure and increased oxygen levels will cure you if the hypoxia you've been
suffering hasn't been too severe. These two states will reduce the size of the nitrogen bubbles
you're feeling in your arms and legs and they'll go a long way towards restoring the circulation to
the affected areas of your body. Any and all excess nitrogen will be completely flushed out of
your system.
"You'll be placed inside the chamber in a few minutes, accompanied by these two
men who're trained in hyperbaric first aid. I'll be present throughout the entire treatment, standing
just outside, and I'll be watching you through the window. If you need me, I can enter the chamber
via the entry lock if you have any questions or concerns at any time.
"You'll be brought
to the equivalent depth of your dive, Callie, where you'll continue to breathe 100 % oxygen through
your mask. Short breaks in the oxygen treatment, where you will breathe the compressed air within
the chamber, are included in this treatment to minimise the risk of what we call oxygen toxicity,
getting too much oxygen in your blood because of the saturation levels we'll be reaching. The initial
treatment lasts approximately 4 hours 45 minutes.
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"If no, or only partial improvement is observed in your symptoms then the initial treatment can
be extended in time until an improvement is seen.
"If you show signs of deterioration at any
point during the initial treatment then the chamber operators will change to a different recompression
table. The length of this recompression treatment can vary, but typically lasts between 48 to
72 hours.
"If your symptoms get more advanced and/or resume to deteriorate, or if the record
of your diving incident shows that you had severe depth concerns, we'll then fill the chamber with
a 50:50 Heliox mixture and starting recompressing you at a depth of 30m until you return to a neurological
state as near normal as possible. Are you ready?" concluded the kind faced doctor.
"I...am.."
Callie paused and took her instructor's hand. "Thank you for saving me and Scotty. I'm..I'm sorry
we screwed up.." she sobbed.
"You didn't. Not from what I saw." said the diver instructor, waiting
nearby. "Sometimes these things just happen, Mrs. Johnson. And I'll do everything in my power
to be sure that no mistakes or errors were made by anyone concerning your husband's diving gear."
"Ok..It's...*gasp* ok.." Callie sighed, closing her eyes.
Then the injured female diver's
care took precedence over everything else.
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---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Jo Swett
and Dr. William Greene popped the champagne cork soundly.
The portly nurse poured out nine
glasses of the bubbly she had bought at the island market and gave one each to the Station 51
gang, themselves, and the last to Chris DeSoto. Ian declined her invitation, telling the hospital
nurse that he wanted to sit out alcohol for the evening so he wouldn't fall asleep on them and
miss something truly fun.
"Here's to your absolutely stellar double save, gentlemen." Jo crowed.
"Dr. Greene and I are stretching legal confidences a little when we say this, but Mr. and Mrs. Johnson
are doing fine tonight and resting comfortably. In a few weeks time, both of them'll be able
to continue their vacation where they left off. At the beach.."
"Here! Here!" cried all the
firemen.
Chris looked stunned at the drink in his hand, but then he caught his father's wink.
"Just a sip." Roy said. "Because it's such a special occasion. Then give it to Marco. His leg's
itching him tonight."
"Ok.. Down the hatch.." said Chris, holding the glass over his mouth
as if he was going to pour the whole thing into his gullet. But then he desisted, taking only a small
taste. "Thanks, dad." he said, handing the rest of it to a scratching, grimacing Lopez.
Chet
was grimacing, too, for a different reason. "D*mned sunburn. I forgot how clear the air gets over
the island." he said, trying to reach an itch on his back with a few fingernails.
"I told you
to use sunscreen, Chet, but you wouldn't listen to me." said Roy, grinning.
"No, but I am using
Marco's calamine lotion now..." Chet retorted.
"You are?" said Lopez, setting down his empty glass
onto a tabletop. "Chet, that salve's supposed to be just for me. What am I going to do when it
runs out?"
"Use these..." said Bill Greene, handing over a case of new bottles over to Marco
from where it had been sitting behind the couch out of sight.
"Gee. Thanks, doc. What do I
owe you?"
"Nothing. The city's decided to pick up all of your medical bills, Marco. Let's
just say for services rendered in the line of off-duty duty performed by the rest of these fine fellows
in your group." he winked.
"No kidding..." said Cap, brightening up from his place on a
deck chair near them. The Casino Ballroom was lit up like a jewel on Avalon's coastline behind him.
"I'm not. " said Bill. "Steve Hoefs lined up getting funds to cover them all at City Hall. He
did that, in fact, as soon as he heard about those two divers you guys helped rescue through Baywatch's
watch commander."
"Tell him thanks, doc, from all of us." Lopez said, deeply moved.
"I
think he already knows, Marco. He already knows. Firefighters do read each other's minds sometimes,
don't they?" smiled Jo in amusement.
FIN
Episode Thirty Three
California
Dreamin'
Emergency Theater Live
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as much as we've enjoyed producing it for you. Please click the Coast Guard clipper below to view
this 33rd episode's End Credits. :)
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Click the sleeping Cap to go to Page Five
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