| ||||||
| ||||||
|
|
 |
 |
|
************************************************** From: "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> Date: Wed Apr 5, 2006 0:53am Subject: Drooling For Donuts~~ Johnny Gage sailed into the day room in the best of moods. "Morning. Morning all. Isn't this the most terrific morning, guys? Boy, last night I think I had the best date I've ever--" "You're late.." grumbled Cap. "We're just about to begin the meeting the chief's asked us to have about lining up another fundraiser for the station." Completely unphased about his tardiness or the growled complaint, Johnny snatched up the warming coffee pot from the stove and sat down in a spot next to his partner. "Oh, Cap. Not another one. I still have nightmares about how badly the one we tried to set up selling fireman's picnic tickets at Rampart." Chet and Stoker, who were still whispering confidentially about something together in close conference, broke off when Johnny got curious enough to peek at some papers they had laid out on the table in front of them. Kelly protectively snatched them up and stacked them, keeping their information a secret. "Only you did so badly, Gage. The rest of us breezed through selling our ticket packets. We had no problems at all. Who knows what your excuse was." "Maybe Johnny's just not a born door to door salesman." Marco scoffed kiddingly. "Ain't that the truth.." Chet goggled. "I mean, who'd buy from a fireman with that smile coming at em.." "Hey...." Gage protested immediately. "Cap.. now that was uncalled for. Chet just--" "Cap just nothing, Gage." said Hank, no nonsense."I'm not responsible for Kelly's flapping gums." "Yeah, there is such a thing as the First Amendment in this country, Johnny. Did you miss hearing about that in school when you were growing up?" Chet grinned, trying to snatch a donut waiting on the platter in front of them that was to be their reward for getting company business done. Hank smacked a butter knife across his knuckles instantly. "OwW!" Kelly howled. |
 |
 |
|
"Not until we're done. You know the rules. You should know them better than anybody else around here." Cap told Kelly. Johnny laughed, celebrating Chet as he nursed his knuckles in between his lips. "And who's been assigned to this station longer than anybody else has been, except Stoker?" he teased. Bonnie, sitting on the empty chair next to Johnny, was practically salivating as she stared at the freshly baked donuts Cap had set out intentionally as a powerful meeting attendance incentive. Kelly just glared at him for a few seconds, then fell into blatant ignoring as he and Stoker brought their heads together into animated conversation about something that seemed to be a project that they were working privately on together. Roy seemed to know what it was, for he began nodding to himself when he overheard a term or two outlining a specific that they were hashing out. Gage couldn't help but be cattish. "Ok, so what're you working on?" he asked them. Stoker and Kelly didn't look up. They might as well have been a news broadcast for all the response they gave Johnny. Hank, however, immediately glommed onto Gage's interest and set him straight. "They're working on what the chief asked them to directly. And that project's gonna be the meat of this whole meeting today. We're gonna raise money so Stoker and Kelly can continue working on it with the department's blessing. So the sooner you zip your lips the sooner we can get eating the donuts I brought in for all of us." Marco's stomach couldn't keep silent any longer and it growled. "Sorry." Lopez mumbled. "Guess I'm just as bad as Bonnie here." he apologized. Chet Kelly eased Bonnie's self inflicted torture by sweeping her into his lap and petting her affectionately. "I'll start this meeting off, Cap. Stoker and I have already come up with our preliminary figures. We figure we'll need around five hundred dollars to complete phase two. That'll include paying for Brackett's time evaluating our invention and the cost of materials to build it." |
 |
 |
|
"What invention?" Johnny interjected clearly into a pause in conversation. "If you needed to know that, I would have told ya. Now shush." Cap glared at him. "Drink your coffee and cork it." Gage immediately whispered animatedly to Roy. "What's this all about? Geesh,.. I was only trying to-" "Shhh." Roy said mildly. "I'm trying to listen to this.." he stage whispered. "Listen to what? They haven't even given us a real subject matter yet." Johnny countered. DeSoto shut his partner up by pouring way too much sugar from the table dispenser into Johnny's mug with intentional moderate malice. Gage sighed and rubbed his face in irritation at the stunt. Then he started fidgeting in his seat, when he began to realize that he'd be unable to dump out his coffee into the sink just yet with the meeting officially going on to go pour himself a new one. He finally fell to silence. Hank conducted the next natural question."Does anybody have any ideas on how we can get half a G by the end of next week to fund this brainchild project submission?" Gage decided to hasten things along. "How about a barbeque or a fish fry at the supermarket?" he suggested sarcastically. Chet didn't even blink a mild eye. "That'd cost us personal money first, Johnny. And you already know how hard that is to swing getting ANY money from the other shifts." "I agree. So some kind of cookout's out." Cap said empathetically. Johnny threw up his hands. "Well, what other option have we got? Anything we plan to do's gonna cost us money, even if we just host a handpainted backyard carnival dunk tank and cheek kissing booth." Stoker looked up at that enthusiastically. "Now that's getting a little closer.." he said brightly. Roy raised his hand slowly with confidence."I got it." Hank called on him with a nervously chewed on pencil eraser. "Shoot it out." "We declare a fire department holiday for kids and spruce up the usual station tour rigmorale to make it more fun. Then ask for donations from all the parents." DeSoto smiled. "Hey. Now that's one heck of an idea.." Kelly grinned toothily. "Stoker, I think we're back in business here." Gage blinked into another pause. "Back in what business?" "Never you mind." Stoker said, flipping a chin at him. "You'll find out about it soon enough when the time's right." Hank clattered his drained coffee mug on the table to call things back into order. "Ok,.. sounds like a great idea, Roy. What shall we call it when we sing out about it with an advertisement tarp hanging from the flagpole?" Roy looked a little uncomfortable then and he crossed his arms across his chest shyly. "Well, I don't exactly know, Cap. I.. sort of didn't think it through that far yet." Marco piped up. "I got it.. why don't we call the holiday pitch Water Day? The kids'll get it right away. Getting chances to fire off real fire hoses despite of the drought restrictions.. It'll be perfect!" "It sure would.." said Cap, enthusiastically. Then he snatched for a donut faster than the speed of light. "Meeting's over.. Gage, you were late so you get to design and paint the tarp banner. Solo. Give it to Stoker when you're done so he can string it up and fly it by tonight." |
 |
 |
|
"What!?!" Johnny sputtered. "Don't press your luck, Johnny." Roy warned him with a grin, reaching behind and over his back for the coffee pot to give to Johnny so he could get a fresh cup to replace the one DeSoto had ruined. "You just may learn to regret it." "But..." Gage gasped. Bonnie barked. "Uh oh.." said Hank. The tones went off. ##EEE, ooo AArrrrroooo.## The gang grabbed two donuts in each hand and jogged out of the kitchen. Before he left, Chet broke off a large piece of one of his for the diminutive Yorkie still sitting patiently in her chair. Bonnie wagged her tail at him and yipped in appreciation. ##Station 29, Truck 8, Heavy Extrication 20, Station 51. Battalion 1. Multiple car traffic accident with injuries. Highway 580 and Ventura Freeway. Highway 580 and Ventura Freeway. Time out 0915.## Cap felt his blood begin to pump as he hauled on his turnout jacket. "Let's move. Sounds like a big one." Then he got on the radio. "Station 51, 10-4. KMG 365...." The rest of them needed no encouragement. Soon, the squad and engine were driving down the boulevard with all their lights set to maximum, their sirens screaming for space through which to dart around the morning's choking rush hour. |
 |
 |
|
*************************************************** From: "patti keiper" <pattik1@hotmail.com> Date: Thu Apr 6, 2006 8:15 pm Subject: MCI Level 1 The hair started going up on the back of Hank Stanley's neck as they got closer to where they could see the morning rush backing up. "Oh, L*rd. There must be a dozen cars involved in this one." he said to everyone in the Ward's cab. He got on the mic. "L.A., this is Station 51. We're arriving on scene. I'm seeing a multiple MVA pileup in excess of ten vehicles just south of the Highway 580 viaduct. I'm officially declaring a Level One Multiple Casualty Incident. Infrastructure has collapsed on top of vehicles and at least one semi truck of undetermined type. The command post will be Engine 51 with the same call sign until further notice. Note the best route of access is from the north along the outside lane's margin, going southbound." There was a slight pause as Sam Lanier, the dispatcher of the day, digested Cap's information. ##10-4. Confirming MCI Level 1. I copy victim numbers ten or more vehicular. Responding four additional paramedic stations, a full hazmat team and two air support units.## Fluting tones rang as the county wide issue came over on Station 51's frequency as the high level incident was radioed out to all available EMS in range. It was followed with rapid radio traffic as additional police and highway response crews were notified of the call and acknowledged it. ##Engine 51, Battalion 1. My ETA is still four minutes out. I'm giving you permission to assume the scene as Incident Commander. Install your posts ASAP.## said the chief through his car radio. "10-4, Battalion 1. L.A. an update. There is no smoke. I repeat. No smoke as yet." annunciated Cap clearly to his superior. ::Last thing we need are fires breaking out.:: Then he turned to his men, gathering around him with full turnouts, tanks and gloves. He spoke urgently quiet. "As I assign you, put these reflective vests on." |
 |
 |
 |
|
Captain Stanley's mind kicked into high gear and he took action, giving rapid orders. "Roy, take over as Medical Group Supervisor. Order any needed resources through me, such as law enforcement or coroner's aid. Establish communications through a secondary control channel and designate yourself as DeSoto HT 51 to L.A. Make three staging treatment areas for triage, red immediate, yellow delayed and green minor. Use the squad's triage kit for taping. Gather the bottom halves of all triage tags with their patient information and have them brought to me. When Battalion gets here, he'll coordinate evacuations as Operations Section Chief." Roy nodded, breathing hard as his eyes took in more and more of the damage laid out about them. Hank turned to his left. "Stoker, you're my Safety Officer, sweep the area and determine casualty numbers and all hazards and report them to me directly. It'll be your job to make sure no one, including rescuers, gets into danger while working out there. Direct units to handle any problems you see through my channel. You arrange critical hazard mitigation, deal with any fire threatening survivors and all critical exposures, ongoing hazardous substance releases, and any further structural instabilities. Manage all of that before performing any nonambulatory victim rescues." "Right, Cap." said Stoker putting on his scba mask. He snatched up his HT and went running for a slope above the pileup to get a birdeye's view of the whole area. "Chet, you're the Transportation Supe. Create channel Kelly HT 51. You'll be responsible for loading ambulances by priority triage tags and sending recovered victims off to the appropriate assigned hospitals. Coordinate with Rampart, Mercy General and Mount Sanai Hospitals direct." Hank directed. "Roy will send victims to you as you call for them." "Got it, Cap." said Kelly. He swiftly decided that an adjoining viaduct cloverleaf circle would make the perfect helicopter landing zone and ambulance disembarkation point. He ran for that area, changing channels on his handheld as he hurried into his scba mask. "Johnny, you're the head treatment unit leader for triaging on Gage HT 51. Use the first two arriving paramedic units and make them a part of your team. Declare yourself now and have them report to you out there directly. Go. Grab the Ward's triage kit and tags with just minimal airways and trauma dressings. The rest of any squads' gear will be brought to triage shortly." "I'm gone." said Johnny, heading for the nearest car to their location. He didn't hurry, but first looked to Mike Stoker for a thumbs up to make sure the area he was entering was truly safe. Then he got his hand signal to proceed in and suddenly all the rest was as if he was wearing blinders. Set on his new channel and connected with those rescue squads coming to report to him, Gage reached his first victim... |
 |
 |
 |
|
It was a woman, twisted and moaning in the driver's seat. "Maam, stay still. I'm a paramedic with the Los Angeles County Fire Department." he said, reaching into the shattered car window. "Can you understand me?" he asked the panting, bloody woman as he grabbed her by the sides of the head to check her true consciousness level. Her respirations count was twenty and he got a pulse at her wrist easily but she didn't open her eyes for him or attempt to answer any of his loud questions. Gage swept down her body and limbs for problems. He found and tied off a bad bleed on her right thigh. Finding nothing else, Johnny got the young lady's license out of her purse, wired it to the woman's triage tag and wrote down the controlled bleeding's location and the time, and left a triage tag untorn as red immediate around her upper arm. Her companion was on the floor, unmoving. Jerking the passenger side door open, Johnny crawled inside the car and climbed on top of the seat. He checked and found no breathing with his hands. Ignoring the finer spinal protocols, he tipped up the man's chin with a jaw thrust and listened for air exchange. He found none. Johnny left the man with a short tag torn down to the black color and a time. There was no one in the back seat in spite of a child's restraint chair strapped in. Johnny marked the car's roof with an orange spray can. ' R X 1, D -- 1.' ---------------------------------------------------------- On the hill, Cap noticed Johnny's first marker. He got on his hand held radio. "Engine 51 to Engine 29. You're assigned extrication. Head for the white two door Chevy Impala that's been marked, immediately next to Squad 51. One victim critical." ##Engine 29 to Engine 51. We copy. Our crew's moving in.## Cap noticed Heavy Extrication Unit Twenty rolling in with her sirens blaring. "Truck Twenty. Head for the broken viaduct. We're seeing two pinned cars by that jackknifed truck. Determine all hazmat risks, live victim numbers, then radio back to me. I'll send no paramedics into your area until you secure full scene safety." ##Truck 20, Engine 51, 10-4.## |
 |
 |
|
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Roy DeSoto was animated. He spoke into his frequency, requested, and got a reply back for a doctor and nurse to fly in from Rampart. "I'll use both of them for victim treatment. Vince can head up being morgue manager. Looks like Johnny's found the first Code F." he mumbled to himself. He contented himself with laying out multiple tarps and medical gear upwind of the crash site into three rows. He squared these off into three sections with red, yellow and green tape on sticks thrust into cones. Moving to Squad 51, he unloaded absolutely every piece of medical gear it had and organized them opened and ready to use in a row along a center aisle which ran through the middle of all three tape colored areas. Thinking ahead, he asked a couple of policemen to go to any other light flashing rescue squads parked away from the crash site to gather their gear and courier the equipment to the triage station. Then he waited with a command slate for the first fire teams to arrive with a victim's stokes. When he saw two firemen coming from the white chevy, he called for a paramedic team to intercept and treat the red tagged woman without using their biophone. "Treat her briefly here then contact MD control when you're in route. Brackett's on the way to the scene if you find anything life threatening that needs immediate intervention with a doctor's order." he told them. Squad 29's medics handed Roy half of the woman's triage tag outlining her designated color and the ID notes Johnny had jotted down along with her driver's license. He got on the radio to Chet. "DeSoto HT 51 to Kelly HT 51." ##This is Kelly HT 51.## "I've a red tag. She'll be ready to move out your way in.." Roy peered closer at what the paramedics were doing for her with an I.V., oxygen without an airway, and additional dressings to her one wounded leg and guessed at her possible departure time."Four minutes. Altered LOC. Bleeding controlled. Triage tag number #1. An Evelyn Samuels. Age 54." ##This one a fly out?## asked Chet, writing down the woman's information on his command slate. "No, we've stabilized her. A ground transport will do." Roy told him. ##I've a Mayfair standing by. Two spots. A rider bench and a gurney.## "Send those attendants on foot for her." DeSoto told Chet. "She's in a stokes. I'll try to get another red tag for you to go along with her." ##They're on their way.## Kelly promised Roy. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ |
 |
 |
 |
|
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Johnny moved rapidly through the next two cars, there were three green tags, panicking assuredly, but he managed to convince them to remain where they were inside the glass cracked vehicles until other firemen arrived who could help walk them out to the triage station. "Meyers! I got a non-mover over here!" Gage shouted to another paramedic that he had assigned to work under him. "Boy of ten or so. In the black convertible!" "Where are you?" asked the voice through the steam of violated cars and dust. "See my tags? I looped them onto the car's radio antennae!" "Got you." shouted the man. He rushed to the car door that Johnny was struggling to open and helped him yank it ajar. Both men got inside in seconds and crouched over the crumpled boy in the back seat. His shirt was bloody. Gage knelt and listened close to the boy's face. "He's not breathing." Johnny told him as he opened the child's airway with a modified jaw thrust. "Does he have a pulse?" Gage felt for one at the boy's carotid. "Yes." Meyers bent low and gave the boy five ventilations mouth to nose, pressing the boy's lips closed to prevent escaping air. "How about now?" he asked maintaining the boy's open breathing position. "That did it. He's around 46 times a minute." Johnny smiled. Meyers sighed and slipped in an oropharyngeal airway in between the boy's teeth. The noisy breaths continued. Gage cut away the child's shirt, looking for the reason for the dampness staining the boy's clothes. "Pneumo. Left side. I can feel it sucking in and out." he told Meyers. |
 |
 |
 |
|
"Only one?" "Yeah." "Here's a vasoline dressing." said the man, handing it to Johnny. Gage slapped it onto the child's chest wound on his back and then wrote down his information onto a red tag. As they were leaving the car, Meyers asked. "Where's the boy's parents? Front seat's empty." "Maybe they were walking wounded before anybody got here." Meyers frowned intensely. "I hope they're found. This kid needs parental consent." "Roy'll call a police officer into the triage station to cover situations like his to take protective custody. He'll do that with of all unattended minors brought to him." Gage reassured him. "Really?" "He's real good that way with things like that. He's got two kids of his own." Johnny said. The two paramedics reluctantly left the gasping little boy alone in his car to move on to the next one. They left their spray painted marker for Cap to see and left. Stoker began shouting and hand signalling to some crews over by the worse area of the pileup. Something was happening that only he could see by the semi truck and it was bad. "Uh, oh.." Johnny noticed, looking up to the hill to where the engineer stood with Captain Stanley. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
 |
 |
 |
|
*************************************************** From: "Cory Anda" <andacory@hotmail.com> Date: Mon Apr 10, 2006 6:43 pm Subject: Extended Rescue.. Captain Stanley's voice suddenly came over Johnny's band. ##Gage! Civilians are being stupid trying to render aid to someone under a pickup truck next to the east end of 580's viaduct overhang. Stoker says they're trying to use an oxyacetylene torch on something directly over him.## Gage's head snapped up. "It takes all types. Where are the cops when you need em?!" he said in frustration to paramedic Meyers."Let's go." He got on his radio. "Gage HT 51 to Engine 51. 10-4. We'll be there in less than one minute.." ##Follow Stoker's flares in a line. They divert around fuel spills. Don't worry about the steaming semi. That truck's been declared Hazmat neutral. Its payload's just milk and the condensate's only thawing frost. You can D/C both your scba apparatuses.## "Copy that.." answered the first-in team. Happily, they dumped their bottles into a conspicuous open spot for easier equipment recovery later on. Johnny and Meyers picked up their light triage packs and began to run. They stopped only long enough to point out moving victims to the other roving paramedic teams also assigned to search through the piled up cars. Soon, they were there. A dusty automobile driver ran up to them, pointing. "A driver's been thrown headfirst into a rotating cement mixer. He's been buried alive under fresh cement. He's entangled in the mixer's motorized agitator.. My friend and I are trying to help him." "Show me.." said Johnny, his face growing tight. "Has it seized up?" he asked about the barrel agitator. "Yes. The blades aren't turning anymore around the shaft which I think's been cocked at an angle." said the man. "Great, now get out of here. Make for those two firemen you see on the hill by following along these cherry flares." "But.." "It's for your own safety. There's more than enough people here now who can help that man." Gage snapped. Then he noticed the cut over the man's eye. "We'll tend to you, too. Take this tag and show it to them." Johnny said, passing off a hasty green tabbed triage tag. |
 |
 |
 |
|
The man hesitated, looking at the other firemen jogging towards them. Gage gestured urgently. "Don't worry about him. We know what to do. Get yourself out, ok? Please, mister,...move!" The man went. Johnny and Meyers were shocked when they turned a corner around the rolled over milk truck and saw the cement mixer. They could see only the victim's left hand and right leg extended and moving out the top of the hopper. His head was partially protruding through a small discharge port on the bottom. And there was a lot of dripping blood. "Gage HT 51 to Engine 51.. We've a man heavily entrapped and in critical condition inside a construction agitator under hardening cement. I'm declaring an extended rescue.." Gage told Cap. Realizing the scope of the incident, Hank quickly called Headquarters' communications center to land a medical evacuation helicopter near the scene. ##10-4, notifying L.A. and Truck 20 to report to your location.## said Cap. As Gage and Meyers climbed to the top of the mixer, they encountered a beefy construction man attempting to free the victim by cutting the agitator shaft with a flaming torch. Molten metal from the shaft was flying through the air and landing on top of the moaning man, causing very obvious third degree burns to the exposed paling skin around his neck and back. "What the h*ll do you think you're doing?! Get away from there!" Meyers said, hauling the torch out of the man's hands. "You're burning him!" "But I was just trying to get a hole open down to him for you fellas." said the worker. "He's bleeding ta death!" "Are you crazy? There's a ton of fuel spilled around here. Didn't you consider where all your sparks were blowing? You did more harm than good, man. Get outta here. Now!" Gage shut down the torch and flung it away from their victim in disgust. One of Truck 20's firemen immediately removed the worker from the area. The two rescuers could see the victim's upper torso had pinned between the lower half of the mixing unit and the agitator shaft. He was trapped face down, from his head to his waist, under the agitator. His back was bent backwards under the shaft, and agitator blades had impaled three inches into his left shoulder. Johnny could see that the metal pistons would seriously limit the space available to rescuers for cutting operations. Gage could hear the victim's muffled screams for help. "Hey, hey. Take it easy. The torch's gone. We got rid of it. Can you breathe ok?" Meyers asked the frightened man. The man gasped, shaking his head. "N-no. Smothering me.." he gurgled. The two paramedics positioned themselves on either side of the man's head and discovered that the motion frozen agitator was causing a nasty problem. The cement covering the victim's body had begun to dry, putting pressure on his lungs and diaphragm. And more of it was oozing onto his face as he spat and choked and tried to turn his head away from it. Meyers and Johnny knelt quickly to scoop wet concrete from around the man's mouth and nose with their gloved hands. As they also removed cement from around their victim's body, they found his left arm was badly mangled. This was the source of the tremendous bleeding pooling under the mixer. Johnny drew out a tourniquet and used it on the man rapidly. "We need an oxygen tank at our location as fast as possible." he radioed out to Cap. ##It's on the way with Truck 20. They're also carrying a full squad's gear. ETA is half a minute.## Hank promised. "Understood..." Johnny replied. Gasping in effort as he worked to ease the man's breathing difficulty, Johnny looked up to see the heavy rescue truck equipped with a hefty complement of specialty rescue equipment, including hydraulic tools and lifting bags, arriving. ::Good, they're bound to have an exothermic torch for us to use.:: he thought. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Battalion Chief One arrived to the command hill shortly thereafter. He had heard Johnny's declaration of an extended rescue situation. He had received a face-to-face briefing from Cap minutes earlier and had assumed his full incident command. Cap said to him off channel. "Johnny tried to describe the victim's position in the mixer and.. Well, Chief, you just have to take a look for yourself." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Soon, Battalion had. "Tricky. What's your plan?" he asked 20's head rescueman and officer. "Me and my men'll cut that 300 lb. agitator shaft here to create a space between the blades and his chest. It'll give the medics more working room for their I.V.s and gain them better access to determine the extent of his other injuries.." said the helmeted fireman. |
| ||||
|
|
"Make it happen, boys." agreed Battalion. Then he knelt down next to Johnny. "How's he doing?" "He's barely holding, Chief. We've got to get him out of here fast. This cement's started drying and it's crushing down on all of his arms and legs." answered Meyers. "We're working on it." soothed Battalion. Then he looked up. "Here's your medical gear." he said, motioning quickly for the courier on the extrication fire truck to hasten in with his full arm load. "Great.." said Johnny reaching for the O2 apparatus. He placed the mask over the man's face and began to help him breathe using the ventilator. In spite of the help, the man blacked out. "D*mn it. Stay with us, sir. Hang on. We're working hard on getting you out of there." But the man didn't open his eyes at all. Truck 20's rescue crews tried to use hydraulic cutters on the agitator shaft. Then they attempted to use hydraulic mini-cutters to sever the blades impaling the victim's body. But the blades and shaft proved to be too thick. They plied in again with a reciprocating saw.. Still, they had no success. Finally, they placed a fireproof blanket around the victim and used the exothermic torch to cut the impaling blade. The procedure worked well, but the crew had to stop two minutes later when they became concerned about reburning their victim as they cut closer to his torso. Battalion was thoughtful. "How about placing a wooden wedge between the blade and his body? A Partner K-12 saw would be a cinch to finish cutting the shaft. Don't you think?" "That'll work.." agreed the truck officer, motioning for a free fireman to go retrieve a chock from storage. The firemen soon removed the heavy agitator shaft from the victim's back, but the blade remained impaled inside of his shoulder. "That hole's big enough. We gotta get in there." Gage fidgetted. "He needs fluids yesterday." "Ok, men. Step back. Let the medics in to work." ordered the chief. Meyers and Johnny eagerly upended into the mixer, questing for more information with what they could see and feel with their slurry soggy gloves. They were soon disappointed. With no blood flow to his severely damaged left arm and with his right arm pinned under his body, the paramedics couldn't establish an IV on the man. And they soon discovered that the cement mixer's U-shaped drum made it nearly impossible to completely assess him from the waist down while he remained entrapped upside down like he was. Meyers bit his lip. "This is taking too long." he mumbled to Johnny. "I know." Gage agreed. "But we don't have much choice except to wait it out." The crews stepped in once more at a wave from the chief, to resume chistling concrete and cutting out twisted metal, bit by bit. Johnny stayed on the man's head. "Let Meyers patch him in, next metal-cooling break. We'll be monitoring him using the EKG so we'll be out of the way except for whoever's ventilating him." he said to the head rescueman. The firemen nodded. He said. "Maybe all of this concrete's a blessing in disguise." "How so?" Johnny asked. "Ironically, although the drying cement's hindering us. It's probably saving his life. His bleeding's being kept in check." Johnny smiled. "Yeah, let's hope there're no cuts on a leg outside of the ooze, or he'll exsanguinate further and lapse into irreversible shock." "I'm all for that idea. Raging optimist. Know what I mean?" said the older fireman, giving Johnny an enthusiastic thumbs up. To ease the rescueman's worries, Johnny echoed the gesture with a soft smile. |
 |
 |
|
| ||||||
 | ||||||
| ||||||
|
| ||||||
| ||||||
|