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The Story Unfolds...
Season Six, Episode Forty Two.. §§ Pilot Light §§ Debut
Launch: February 1st, 2007.
************************************************** From: patti
keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> Date: Thu Feb 15, 2007 4:41 pm Subject: That Irritating Edge..
The sunlight was just beginning to cast its past noon shadows when Henry the basset lifted
up his head at the sound of both of Station 51's vehicles returning from a run as they backed up in
the vehicle bay. By the time the guys filed into the kitchen, the laid back hound had already
begun wagging his tail at them from the deep recesses of the chocolate brown vinyl couch. "And
that's another thing...." said Gage empathetically at Roy as he strode in energetically to the kitchen
stove to pour himself a cup of still warming tar thick coffee. "How many times have we, just in this
month alone, transported some little old lady or old man without knowing all the facts?" Behind
him, Chet Kelly and Mike Stoker took to the rec chairs and turned on an active baseball game. Captain
Stanley mildly noted Roy and Johnny still going on adamantly about the call they had returned from
and just rolled his eyes as he reached over to the fruit bowl on the table. To make a point, he loudly
crunched and bit his apple in Johnny's ear, just to bug him. DeSoto glanced up at Hank in total
agreement. "I agree absolutely, Cap. He's chewing on this bone just a little too much." he said, still
worked up. DeSoto sat down in a kitchen chair and stretched out to pull the widely scattered morning
paper sections that no one had completely read yet and started organizing them into piles with some
agitation. Gage parked a butt cheek on the edge of the table between Cap and Roy and grasped
the air with a couple of finger tips, leaning over. "You gotta admit her life depended on us knowing
her drug allergies.. Am I wrong?" Roy sighed in resignation and stopped fussing with his now
neatly stacked pile of printed wood pulp. "Ok.. ok.. You're not wrong. Yes, she could have been a
little bit more comfortable with that morphine for her pneumonia induced chest pain, but who are
we to further risk her health? She already got into trouble once indirectly because of us. You heard
Dr. Brackett. Once he knew we didn't have positive I.D. on our patient, he went into one hundred
percent caution mode, just like we did." DeSoto said, stabbing a finger down onto the tabletop.
"That's exactly my point, Roy. Her quality of care suffered because we didn't have all of her
medical facts readily available. She couldn't talk well enough. All the lights weren't on upstairs!"
Gage exasperated, tapping a finger against his temple.
DeSoto tossed his head without amusement.
"Isn't that usually the case with us? People are either in shock, or in some kind of altered level
of consciousness and are never in any condition to share their information." Gage threw up
his hands, beginning to pace again. "Why aren't people just a little bit smarter these days? It only
takes a couple of seconds to ...to...to...write down pertinent patient information like current medications
and any continuous ongoing medical conditions and pop that note into a purse or something."
Chet had been listening closely, serious for once. "Well what if you don't carry a purse, Gage? I
mean, you won't have one if you're not female." Hank jumped in, offering his two cents worth.
"And besides that, who's gonna carry a purse or wallet about the house whereever they go so it always
stays in the same room with them? Last time I checked nobody's expecting to fall sick at the drop
of a hat." Gage eyeballed both firemen with sudden speechlessness. "I don't know. I'm just the
frustrated working paramedic here. I don't have all the answers." Kelly looked up at Johnny.
"Well, maybe you should start finding some if you're not happy, Johnny. I know that'll give us all
a little peace and quiet this afternoon." he said, dragging a sports section away from Roy's pile
of newspaper. "Hey, Chet." snapped DeSoto. "Get your own.." he glared. Chet ignored him.
"Is this paper addressed to you?" he said, holding up the mailing label sticker he instantly tore
free. "Since when was 'Care of : Station 51, 2049 E 223rd St and Wilmington' your personal house
address?" Cap decided enough was enough. "Listen up, guys, pipe it down. All this sniping
at each other concerning a bad call's not helping matters, or our appetites." he said, hanging up
the phone receiver. "Now I've just ordered a ton of pizza, enough for all of us, as a special treat
so we can just try and forget this whole morning. Let's lighten up a little, huh? Bad calls are gonna
happen. But at least we didn't lose that sweet old dear when we very well could have."
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"Thank heavens for Narcan.." mumbled Roy under his breath. Arf! barked Henry sensing the tension
in the room. Johnny hushed up and finally took a seat next to Roy, and pushed away his untasted
coffee mug. "You're right, Cap. It IS stupid beating this dead horse to death." "Ain't he already
dead?" quipped Kelly. "Huh?" asked Gage, squinting at Chet, only half hearing. "Never
mind.." said the Irishman, licking a thumb so he could turn a page for the latest football statistics
when he felt Cap glaring at him. Johnny got to his feet and used Henry as a comfortable head
pillow while he laid himself down on his back to take a nap on the couch. The large tan and white
dog let him, wagging his tail in rich pleasure, pleased to no end that somebody was finally paying
attention to him. "Be that as it may, you guys. I'm bound and determined to solve this dilemma and
nip this continually irritating missing facts on a rescue call effect, right in the butt." "Yeah,
well, I wish you all the luck on that." Cap said, starting to set out plates enough for six. "The
day any fire station ever has all of their critically needed on-scene information, is the day I become
a happy man." Chet looked up with a quip. "Gage, You'd better hurry up then." Cap snapped
a dish towel at Kelly to shut his trap.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dixie McCall sighed as she dragged herself back to the main ER desk to catch up on her charting
work. Dr. Early, reviewing and cataloging the week's paramedic rescue call audio reels, looked
up in sympathy. "Been one of those days?" he asked the frazzled nurse. "It's been a WEEK of
one of those days, Joe. I'm bushed. When's it gonna end?" she moaned in agony. Joe looked
at his watch, checking the time. "For you? In about four hours, eighteen minutes.." he joked.
"That's not funny and you know it. That's over half a shift away." she whimpered. "Yeah,
well. If it helps, the rest of us are stuck here right alongside of you." he said, beginning to massage
some of the aches out of Dixie's shoulders gently in sympathy. "It's been a while since you've worked
a code, hasn't it?" Dixie just made a face. "Quite frankly, I can't remember the last time I
did c.p.r. on someone. Not until today. Now I'm feeling every knot." "Next time, order a student
nurse to do it." Joe offered.
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"I couldn't. They were all tied up. Believe me, next time Roy and Johnny comes in with an arrest
victim, I'm not gonna give them any flack at all about dripping sweat pools onto the treatment room
floor." McCall said empathetically. "Why don't you take a few minutes off and go grab yourself
a shower in the locker room. I'm free for a bit." Early offered. "Oh, really?" Dixie said,
looked up, still melting in relief under his ministrations. "Why not? I can man the phones with
the best of them." "Ok.. Sure?" she asked, painfully eager.
Joe nodded, grinning easily.
"Back in ten minutes. Thanks, Joe, you're an absolute lifesaver.." Dixie said, worming out
of her chair and eagerly dashing down the hall. "Last time I checked.." said Joe, waving at her
retreating back cheerfully. Dr. Early sat down on Dixie's stool and began familiarizing himself
with her station, quietly humming to himself happily for his good deed done. That's when
the phones began to ring.. All of them.
************************************************* From
: patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com> Sent : Friday, February 16, 2007 4:15 PM Subject : Into
The Thick... Joe grabbed for the nearest phone. The red one. "Rampart Emergency, This is
Dr. Early." he said as he uncradled, then nestled a second phone, the outside line black one, onto
his shoulder. "Go ahead." he said into the first receiver.
He repeated his introduction into
the second phone and traded receivers back and forth while he gesticated wildly with the rest of
his body, trying to get other passing orderlies, or nursing students to go into the glass enclosed
base station to start a third paramedic call hail.
Joe fell into attentive listening on the
rosy phone. "A gas leak?! Ma'am. Call the fire department. No, wait. Don't call the fire department.
Just gather up your family and get the h*ll out of there. Go to a neighbor's once you have everybody,
then do it." he insisted.
Early shifted to the black line. "Go ahead. This is Rampart Emergency."
he squinted as he tried to ignore the staff ring on Dixie's white phone linked to the labs, on the
desk in front of him. He toggled on its speaker function with an elbow. "ER desk, whose results do
you have?" he said to that phone's pickup.
The black receiver jarbled something into his ear.
"Squad 110? What are you doing way up there? You're legally out of your jurisdiction." Joe told
the paramedic on the long distance land line. "I don't know how I can authorize an I.V. across county
lines. Hold on, go ask Dr. Brackett about it." he said, transferring that call to Kel's extension
with a few buttons. He tossed that phone down onto the counter top with a clatter.
The white
speaker phone nestled in between all of Dixie's open charts, began warbling. ##We have the results
on Mrs. Fishmacher, Treatment Room Two...## said the creamy lab phone. ## Po2 levels are still
down. Her arterial blood gases are 82 % Sedimentation rates are...## it droned on.
Joe was
jiggling now, dancing under the flashing red beacon buzzing above the base station door, angling every
free body part upwards in a vain pointing attempt to get somebody who was a doctor or medic equivalent's
attention, to answer it.
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Finally, Joe said last words to the red phone. "Hang up and get out. Now. Your life depends on it."
Then he slammed it back into its cradle on the wall.
To the speaker phone, he shared kernels
of wisdom. "Have one of your aides transcribe all of your results and run it up here in person. Excuse
me, I have an emergency call."
##Don't we always?## said the disgruntled lab tech downstairs at
Joe's long tedious way of handling his information before he hung up.
Joe practically dove through
the glass door to get to the fire station paramedic talk button on the base station's radio receiver.
"Unit calling in, repeat. This is Rampart Emergency."
On the opposite corner, another paramedic
receiver began hailing. The only problem was, that radio was out of arm and leg's reach. Joe began
to do a fair imitation of a tennis player in a heated match as he ran back and forth between the two
transmissions.
##Rampart, this is Squad 99...## "Go, 99." hurried Joe.
##Rampart, this is Rescue 10.##
"I read you loud and clear, 10." said Joe,
beginning to puff as he weaved back and
forth to talk to both paramedics
simultaneously. "Go ahead."
##Rampart, we have multiple victims of a high impact
MVA. Four in number...##
##Rampart, we've a witnessed cardiac arrest in progress. Permission
first to insert an esophageal airway.## said the first paramedic team.
"Do it. Then send
me a strip after your first countershock." ordered Joe.
##Rampart, Victim One, a male, aged nine.
Severed left leg that's unsalvagable. Unconscious
and being artificially ventilated. Victim Two, female,
aged seventy one, basilar skull fracture, semi conscious.
Victim Three...## continued 10's transmission.
Joe began writing notes, with both hands.
Then the third alcove
receiver went off, from the main fire department dispatching center and that one,
really got Joe's undivided attention. @@@Stand by for Official Notification. Los Angeles
Center for Seismology. Ritcher Alert.. I repeat, Richter Alert...@@@
Joe Early threw a cup of pencils at the window and finally got a passing
Dr. Morton's attention as he hooked get-in-here-right-now fingers at him. Mike hastened
to comply.
"Take 10's and 99's. Something big's brewing on the SCU Channel."
said Early, passing off his two note pads. "99's M.I. is on Alpha.
I've set aside 10's needs for Beta on the monitor." he said jerking a finger at the
Tetronix EKG Telemetry Station that he had flipped on into active receiving. Strips
of EKG paper were already beginning to wind around his feet.
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##Rampart, he's aspirating!## reported 99.
##Victim Four has a penetrating evisceration.
We need a doctor flown out here to stabilize
him initially. Mast trousers are contraindicated.##
requested 10.
::Dixie, where are you? Shower fast.:: thought Joe as he and Dr. Morton
began to prepare for their worst and most important incoming earthquake transmission. Joe hit a button
on the wall intercom that broke into the hospital's general overhead speakers. "Early to all staff.
Condition Orange. Condition Orange. Report to your assigned duty departments. Stat. Dr. Brackett,
to the base station.."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Where's Cap?" asked Roy.
"In the office." replied Gage. "He was nice enough to let me
borrow this."
"Oh.." said DeSoto, putting away their leftover pizza boxes into the refrigerator.
"Fellas, what does this look like to all of you?" asked Johnny, half holding up a familiar white
plastic shaped bottle as he wrestled a fully paper laden heavy mint green typewriter onto the kitchen
table top. He made a lot of noise pushing all their empty dinner dishes aside with an agile free foot
to make space for it.
"A type writer." Marco guessed.
"Nope. This other thing I'm carrying..."
Johnny redirected them as he set the workhorse machine down heavily.
Kelly looked up from his
newspaper for about two seconds. "A bottle of Buffrin."
"No, Chet, look beyond the label, that's
not gonna be there when I'm through with it. I'm peeling it off and adding one of my own. No, what
I'm referring to is....this is a protected, sealed container that can hold just about anything. Maybe
even something life saving once I'm through with it." Johnny said, getting a little passionate.
Kelly made a face and he began studying Johnny as if he had turned into some kind of fascinating
science project. "Gage, do you know how much you're beginning to sound like a qwack here?"
"Well,
thanks a lot for the name calling, Chet. I didn't come in here to show all you guys my little something
just to h--"
"No..no no, Johnny. Quit taking me so figuratively. I meant that term literally.."
Chet said matter of factly.
Gage shot him a dirty look.
Kelly held up surrendering hands
when Gage melted him with that glare. "I didn't mean what you're thinking. Stop and think about it..
A qwack : Someone who sells home remedys that do absolutely nothing for the buyer."
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"Still doesn't matter. I'm still offended. My idea will definitely mean something to the buyer, and
us, too, once I'm through with it."
Chet was still hung up on details. "A qwack, Gage. And I don't
mean duck. Remember how they used to go around in covered wagons in the Old West pitching stuff
that was pure alcohol and calling it Mr. Farnan's All Fire Cure Tonic and stuff? That's a professional
qwack. Qwack medicine."
"Do I look like I'm an expert on cowboys, Chet?"
Kelly gave
Gage a very odd look.
"No, don't answer that." Johnny sighed, grinning. In his head he could
hear Chet's reply. ::Well, you are an Indian.:: "Ah,.. gimme a couple of days to get my plan all
together and I'll show ya what I mean. I can't believe nobody's ever thought of doing this kind of
thing before. My idea's absolutely brilliant. I can't wait to get started on it to submit to
the chiefs as an action plan." he said, sitting down and beginning to type and add sentences to his
blank sheet eagerly.
"What? Brown nosing McConnike?" said Marco. "You know how that particular
angle turned out with Cap."
"Yeah, well, I'm different. I'm not as sensitive about my first name
and I certainly.. am not gonna be burning any hats." Johnny said empathetically.
"No, but
just don't go around burning down all your bridges before you come to them." Chet said.
The
other guys chuckled from whereever they were.
"I don't follow.." said Johnny, frowning in confusion
at Kelly and the rest of his crewmates.
"If you suck up to the boss too much, I know that myself
for one, might get a little envious." Chet said. "And that might go for some of the other guys
in this kitchen, too."
"Envious?! Chet, my idea is going to go, in order to try and help people.
Now how is that a jealousy problem?"
"You'd be making yourself look good." said Roy without sting.
"Better than the rest of us guys."
Johnny's mouth flopped wide open. "Roy, I can't believe you
just said that. For Pete's sake, you're my partner. I'd never do anything to snub you. Not intentionally."
he said, rising to his feet in surprise.
Station 51's engineer piped up. "Yeah? Well what about
the rest of us? We all have reputations to protect as far as job performance goes in the eyes of higher
ups." said Stoker.
Gage set both hands on his hips, thoroughly offended, gaping for long
seconds. Then he changed tact. "Chet, did I hum and haw and complain when you developed those walk
on walls suction cup shoes of yours?"
Kelly finally met Gage's eyes. "They didn't work."
"Yes they did...." ::I got a good laugh.:: "No, uhh. All right. Ok. They didn't because of their..previously
unknown....natural affinity for pavement.." he said, the corner of his mouth curling up. "What I'm
really getting at is that not once did I ever make a fuss that you were going to the chiefs with
a new invention."
"Geez, Gage. That was real big of ya." Chet said with an edge.
"No! AHhhgh."
Johnny grimaced, spinning around in a little circle. "Quit twisting my words around. You know what
I meant."
DeSoto popped another potato chip into his mouth. "I think, Chet, what he's trying
to tell you is that he was keeping an open mind and was being supportive about your tinkering by not
opening his yap and saying anything negative about it."
"That's it! That's it exactly, Roy."
Gage smiled hugely, in great relief. "Thank you."
Chet looked askance. "Gage can have an open
mind? And be supportive? That's news to me. Usually he only does that when he's paramedic-ing somebody."
Gage threw up his hands and finally stalked off in search of another table top to set his tiny
typewriter on to finish his proposal.
"So what are ya gonna call it?" Chet hollered after the
disappearing Johnny.
"...The Bottle Of Health Program..." Johnny shot back from around the
corner, still hugging his typewriter protectively.
On the couch, Henry whined nervously and suddenly
decided to thump down onto the floor to go follow and comfort Gage, who was still smelling miffed.
They all watched him stretch all four limbs in preparation to go.
Kelly shook his head in
casual dismissal. "Still sounds like a qwack." he said, turning back to the dishes.
"Give him
time." said Roy. "He just might be on to something here." he said thoughtfully. "I almost got it figured
out what he's aiming at."
Chet quipped. "Well, you're just about the only person who can figure
out Gage, man. And that's the truth."
Bark! said Henry.
"Oh, forgive me, Henry. You're
the second one who probably can. But then again, you're our dog. You'll love anybody who's actually
one of the hands that feeds ya. Won't ya, boy?" he said, affectionately scrubbing the hound's thick
hide with all of his water dripping fingers until Henry rolled over right where he was and collapsed,
moaning with pleasure.
The tones went off.
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*************************************************** From: "Derrick" <rescueman1962@yahoo.com> Date:
Sat Feb 17, 2007 8:46 pm Subject: Helping Friends
##Squad 51, Man down. 21356 South Avalon
Boulevard. South Avalon Boulevard. Cross Street 213. Time out: 14:57.## Sam Lanier's voice rang
over the loudspeaker.
"Squad 51, 10-4. KMG 365..." Chet said as he answered the call for his
crewmates.
"That's the police station, isn't it ?" Gage said to DeSoto as he started up the
squad.
"Yep, I wonder what could be going on there." Roy answered.
The squad left the station
as usual with its lights and siren on and it was only a short four minute response time to the police
station.
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The captain was there to meet Johnny and Roy as they entered the sta- tion and other officers were
standing near the watch commander's office with long looks of concern. It had appeared that one of
their fellow officers had taken ill and collapsed.
Captain Drury said to Gage and DeSoto. "One
of my men started to feel nauseous and dizzy then bam, he hit the floor like a ton of bricks! He
went out like a pilot light. He seems to be breathing all right, but we can't get Vince to respond!"
the captain said.
"Who'd you say it is again?" Gage said.
"It's Vince!" The captain exclaimed.
The firemen approached Vince, who was lying supine on the floor. Scotty was keeping his airway
open and Sergeant Tom Staler was taking steps to try to arouse Vince, who was unconscious.
"Hey
Vince, your two favorite paramedics are here. They're gonna help you. Can you hear me, Vince?" Sergeant
Staler said as he once again vigorously rubbed on his sternum.
"Okay, let's get an airway
in and get a set of vitals for Rampart." Roy directed Johnny when he saw Vince wasn't feeling that
pain. Captain Drury directed his crew to get back out on the street on patrol and he told
them that he'd keep them posted.
Sgt. Staler and Scotty stayed behind with Vince in case Gage
and DeSoto needed their help.
Johnny slipped in an oral airway. He had already hooked up the
Ambu- Bag to the oxygen tank and turned it on to 15 liters per minute when he saw how Vince was
breathing.
"I'll do that.." said one worried policeman close by.
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"Okay." smiled Johnny.
Officer Scotty began ventilating Vince while Roy and Johnny recorded
vital signs to give to Rampart.
"BP is 90 by palp. Pulse is 120 and a bit weak." Roy said to his
partner.
"I got respirations of 26 and labored, he has O2 saturations at 95 percent. I'm now
getting a Chemstrip reading of..... 68." Johnny said as he read the color change on it using blood
from a pricked finger against the user bottle.
"Okay, you hook him up to the monitor while
I contact Rampart." said Roy.
Roy plugged the antennae into the biophone and turned the power
switch on. The main channel was busy and he heard Squad 116's lead paramedic Al Jacobson finishing
up his conversation with Dr. Morton with a major trauma patient from a motorcycle accident. He flipped
over to the backup channel and there, Tom Wheeler with Squad 110 was just signing off with Joe
Early on their run.
DeSoto waited those few brief seconds and said. "Rampart, County 51. How
do you read ?"
##Loud and clear, 51. Go ahead.## Early replied.
"Rampart, we have a 39
year old male, unresponsive, who was found by co-workers. Unconsciousness may be due, we suspect,
to possible syncope or hypoglycemia. Bystanders state that he suddenly fell from a standing position
and was unconscious and unresponsive for six minutes prior to our arrival. We have initial vitals
of : BP 90 by palp, pulse 120 and irreg- ular, respirations 26 and irregular. O2 sats are at 95 percent.
We've done a Chemstrip and we got a reading of 68. He is on the monitor showing sinus tach at
120 without ectopi. We are ventilating with 100 percent O2 per Ambu-Bag at 15 liters and have inserted
an oral airway. Ambulance is just now arriving. We will send you a strip with new vitals to follow."
##Standing by, 51.## Early replied.
"Rampart, this will be Lead II." Roy said as he transmitted
the information about Vince's cardiovascular activity from the Datascope through the biophone
to Rampart.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In an ironic twist, Dr. Brackett came walking into the base station and said to Dr. Early. "Hey
Joe, have you seen Vince around here?"
"Nope, not since he brought in that guy in his custody,
from the fight at Carl's Coffee Shop, to you this morning." said Joe, studying the EKG paper threading
out of the scope through his fingers.
"Well, that guy's ready to go to jail." Kel said. "I'll
give them a call." he said about the police station. Then he saw the callsign on Joe's notes.
"What does 51 have?"
"Could be a mystery." Joe said sarcastically as he toggled the talk button.
"51, this is Rampart." Joe continued.
##Go ahead, Rampart .## Roy answered.
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"Start an I.V. D5/W. Then give 1 amp of D50 and transport as soon as possible, keeping us posted.
What's your ETA?"
##About 10 minutes, Rampart. Do you want a new set of vitals?## Roy inquired.
"Let's have them." Early said.
##BP is 90 palp. Pulse is now 116, respirations are 20 with
O2 sats at 97 percent. Chemstrip's steady at 68 with the patient still showing sinus tach on
the monitor at 116 without ectopi, over?## said DeSoto.
"Copy, 51. Rampart out." Early replied.
************************************************* From: "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com>
Date: Sun Feb 18, 2007 8:03 pm Subject: Blood Powder..
Gage touched Officer Scotty's arm.
"You can stop now. His breathing's okay and effective now that it's slowed down from that panting."
Scotty set aside the bag valve mask and watched as Johnny placed a high flow non-rebreather over
Vince's face and the airway. "What caused him to do that?"
"Could've been a lot of things."
said Roy, sweeping down Vince's head, neck and back for blood or spasming that might be there
as a result of his awkward fall onto the linoleum and concrete tiles. "Recovery from the wind getting
knocked out of him, or a brief airway positional problem,.."
"...or what we're thinking of...
The fact that his chemistry's way off. His blood glucose reading's a little low and departing from
normal. Can anyone tell me if he's eaten today?" Gage asked, keeping tabs on the pulse in Vince's
wrist, which was beginning to even back out into a regular rhythm as the Dex 50 I.M. injection began
to do its work.
"I don't know for sure. I can send one of my men to go check his locker for
his lunch box to see if it's empty." The captain knelt and unclipped Vince's radio, vehicle keys
and gun from his belt.
"Yeah, good idea. Go do that. It's important we know what he's ingested
and how much." Johnny said, eyeing up Vince's weapon and holster a little uneasily as it stimulated
some memories.
DeSoto straightened up, finishing his hands-on injury check. "He's clear, Johnny.
I'm finding no bumps, bruising, or open cuts anywhere. I don't think he'll need a collar, or our backboard."
he told Johnny.
Gage's relief at Vince's improving respiratory state, heartened him into joking
a little. "Whoever does if they don't hit something on the way down. Guys falling from Vince's height
while being his same muscular build, never seem to hurt themselves."
An officer came back
into the office, "Mister, his box is empty. And I know he likes to eat around two thirty."
"Ok,
thanks." said Roy.
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Mayfair's attendants soon entered the building and rolled their knee high stretcher into the office
at a wave from Roy. "He's stable. No injuries. But mind his airway." he told them. "He's really out."
"Yes, sir." said one of the red jacketted EMTs. They knelt and cradled Vince under the arms and
the back of his feet while they lifted the cool, sweat drenched officer onto the cot.
Gage
pulled out the pillow and tucked it under the mattress frame so they could tip his head back over
the top edge of the seated gurney to better manage Vince for breathing ease. "He was dyspneic for
a while but that's resolved." he shared. "His gum color's staying good."
"All right." said
the older man at Vince's head. "Has he vomited?"
"Uh,,.." said the two paramedics, looking around
at the floor for staining and also inside a nearby waste can that was still sitting in the middle
of the room. Their heads twisted in a search.
But soon, DeSoto spoke. "Not in here at
any rate. But watch for it if it should happen." Roy decided finally. "Did you get his wallet? We'll
need his medical history if he's got one in there." he asked the EMTs.
"Don't bother. I've
got that right here." said Vince's captain, passing over a freshly copied file that his breathless
secretary had just rushed in.
"Oh, this is perfect. This is exactly what we need. Thanks." said
Gage, remembering his vented frustrations from earlier that morning.
The attendant nodded
and the two began wheeling Vince out the door once the displaying EKG monitor and O2 apparatus were
piled in at his feet. DeSoto called out after him. "I'll join you in a minute to get another
gluc stick." he said.
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Johnny sighed as he and Roy packed away their medical gear. "Sorry for the mess of papers.." he told
all the officers, indicating the I.V. bag plastic and tubing box, gauze pads and ekg sticker backs
littering the floor. "Want us to tidy up?"
"No..no..Quite all right. Environmental can handle
this." said the captain. "You just go take care of Vince. Can you give us a call once you find out
about him? I've got half the force chewing their nails and dillydallying around because they're
worried sick about him. Howard's the unofficial station icon and the personal mentor of every rookie
cop ever born who's managed to truck through this department."
"We know.." smiled Roy. "We
always tell him he's our favorite pointsman."
"And a close friend.." said Gage, hurrying out the
door with his active concern still only barely hidden.
The four of them were pacing across
the parking lot when a trembler shaking up from deep within the earth, caused them to stumble and
snatch at Vince's gurney protectively as it began to roll away from them when their grips on the
guide handles were broken.
"Whoa. What was that?" Johnny said, rechecking Vince's airway tube
placement when they finally had him steadied.
"At least a 3.0." replied Roy, as he watched
motorists on the boulevard react with screeching brakes and wavered driving as they were startled
by the small earthquake.
Gage pulled his HT off the clip on his belt to listen to its speaker
more closely. "Well, there are no people injured, radio traffic's normal. This must be the predicted
shaker told to us by the warning alert we heard earlier." Johnny peered up at the sun, and at their
distant mountain repeater tower. "L.A.'s in monitoring mode on main. Our communication wires are still
up over there." he said when he heard no urgent hail begin on priority.
"Radio's still live?"
"Yeah." Gage answered.
"How about the biophone?" Roy asked, fiddling with the EKG dials and
its connections.
Johnny opened the box up and set it up quickly in a check while the EMTs loaded
Vince into the ambulance. He picked up the phone receiver and blew into it. He got a squeal right
back. "It's hot."
"Good. Let's hope it stays that way." DeSoto said, climbing into the rig after
Vince.
"Let me know the second he wakes up on the way in." Gage said. "I wanna know what's
going on."
"Only a second after I do." Roy promised, taking the resealed biophone from Johnny's
hand. "Guys, go Code Three. He's a friend. No one will know we've sped things up a notch."
"Code
Two on the report it is.." winked the Mayfair driver.
"Thanks.." said Roy as the door between
them closed.
Through the window, he saw Johnny hastening to get behind the squad's driving
wheel.
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----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- DeSoto
had just listened to a complete set of breath sounds when Vince suddenly groaned weakily, protesting
the plastic tube in his mouth.
Roy and the cab EMT slid the oxygen mask out of the way.
Vince tried to sit up but the cot straps held him down. Sucking in a breath, the sick officer pushed
out the oral, making gagging sounds. It fell away onto his stomach.
DeSoto quickly held
his shoulders so the groggy cop couldn't pull out his I.V. "Easy..Vince. Don't panic. You're not choking
at all. That was just a breathing tube." he shouted over the noise of the sirens. When Vince stopped
fighting as his breaths returned normally, Roy snatched up his HT. "Johnny, he spat it out."
he said, peeling back the vaguely writhing man's eyelids one by one for a fast pupil check. They were
both dilated. "Mac, he's okay. Set the mask back into place. He didn't vomit."
##What's his
glasgow?## Johnny transmitted.
"Don't know yet. He's non-verbal. Stand by for a bit." Roy shared.
DeSoto watched as Vince's hands climbed up to grip his lower abdomen. "Vince? Are you hurting right
here?" he asked, opening Vince's black uniform shirt and cut away T a little wider so he could undo
his belt and pants zipper for a careful lower quadrants check. He found uniform involuntary guarding
right above Vince's pubic bone. "That's his bladder."
"Has he voided?" asked the EMT, noticing
the finding.
"No. That's odd. He should have done that a long time ago when he blacked out."
"A blockage?"
"Maybe.." replied DeSoto. "Let me try and get a response out of him." DeSoto
leaned forward, one hand on Vince's abdomen. "Vince? Open your eyes.." Howard didn't, nor did he
begin to make noise again. "Can you feel this?" Roy asked, pushing down with a couple of knuckles
on the effected area.
Vince's reaction was immediate. He moaned weakily and began to gag.
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DeSoto immediately stopped his probing. "There's pain all right. But he's not awake enough to talk
about it." he sighed. "Mac, go ahead and take another pressure to see where he's sitting at. This
is something new and might be serious. I'll notify Dr. Early."
"Trauma from the fall?"
"No, I'm thinking it's something medical. The cause of all the symptoms the other officers were telling
us about."
Mac did so, using a stethoscope. "It's up. Way up. 150/110."
"D*mn.." said Roy.
"Metabolic hypertension. I wonder what his electrolytes are doing. His calcium levels must be way
off the scale."
DeSoto pulled the monitor closer and found active hypercalcemia dancing across
the screen with first degree block and Q T wave abbreviations. He talked to Johnny, fast. "Johnny.
Hypercalcemia, urogenital related most likely, with bounding hypertension on palpation. He's still
non-verbal, and feeling pain, but he's able to manage his own airway."
##Blocked ureter?##
Johnny asked instantly.
"No, his guarding's too wide spread. There's a mass, too, down deep. But
it's not pulsatile." answered Roy.
##Ok, let's hope he doesn't sour on us.## said Gage.
::Last
thing I want is for Vince to code due to a chemical imbalance. My kingdom for an instant blood lab
machine in the ambulance.:: Roy wished, looking at his watch for their estimated E.T.A. as Mac called
out what street signs they were passing.
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Click Roy reporting to go to Page Two
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