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Suffocation at a Snail's Pace Page Two by Stephanie White |
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"What the hell do you mean there's nothing I can do?" Roy's slightly-out-of-breath-but-definitely-pissed-off-voice came over the line. "I'm sorry, Roy," Brackett said. "Without equipment, there's nothing I can tell you to do. As long as mouth-to-mouth is getting at least some air through to him, you really just have to either find the key or wait for other help to arrive." "Doc…I can't just do nothing! Stoker, you've got to blow harder…you've gotta really force the air in…Doc, please! There's gotta be something you can tell me to do! He's dying!" "I really am sorry, Roy. In this situation with no equipment, there is NOTHING I can tell you to do. Just because it's Johnny doesn't mean there's something special that can be done. I know it's hard, but you just have to hang in there and wait for the other squad." Brackett winced at the sound of Roy violently hanging up the phone. ********************** -Meanwhile- Chet scrambled over every flat space he could find looking for the key to the squad. On tables, under furniture, in the squad, on the squad, in the engine, on the engine, under the engine, etc…no place went unsearched. The stocky firefighter heard Roy on the phone and realized that if he didn't find the key soon, Johnny would die. "It's not my fault Johnny's allergic to snails! I didn't know that! I bet he didn't know it either," Chet talked to himself, trying to find a reason not to blame himself. As logical as all the points he made were, he couldn't do it. |
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*********************** Captain Stanley watched the little drama unfolding in front of him. He felt completely helpless. Here was one of his best paramedics dying in his station on his watch and there was little or nothing he could do about it. He was about to ask if there was anything else he could do (fully expecting the answer to be 'no'), when he heard what sounded like a chainsaw buzzing in the engine bay. "Kelly, what in GOD'S NAME do you think you're doing?" Stanley screamed over the noise as he ran out to see Chet about to cut into the squad with the K-12. "Johnny's dying, the other squad's not here yet and I can't find the key! You got a better idea?" Chet yelled back. Stanley scrubbed his hand over his eyes. He thought he heard the word 'tracheotomy' come from the break room. "At least get some goggles from the engine first," he said with a long-suffering sigh. "Don't know how I'm gonna explain this one to the Chief," he added under his breath. Within seconds, Chet was back at the squad; K-12 in hand, goggles on eyes. Stanley shut his eyes tight as the over-sized blade moved steadily towards the pristine paint job of Squad 51. Sparks flew as Chet made the first incision. He was about to take another pass when Stanley heard sirens outside. |
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"CHET!" he yelled over the echoing buzz of the K-12. "THE OTHER SQUAD'S HERE!" "WHAT?" Chet yelled as he looked to where Stanley was pointing. "Oh." He shut off the K-12 with only a slight sigh of regret. While he was extremely glad Johnny would be getting prompt care, he was mildly disappointed by the fact that he wouldn't get to destroy anything after all. ************************* "Bout time you got here!" Captain Stanley grumbled as the medics of Squad 23 barrelled into the room. "Roy, get out of the way and let these guys work." "Cap, I wanna help," Roy said between breaths. "Roy, you're about to pass out. Stand up, breathe and let these guys do it!" Roy quickly, if not reluctantly abandoned his friend's care and stood up…only to sway briefly before falling back into the nearest chair. "Roy? You okay, man?" Marco asked anxiously. Roy took a deep breath before he answered. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just a little lightheaded, that's all. Just need to get my breath back." "You sure?" Roy nodded and focused his attention on the possible death of his best friend. "Rampart, this is Squad 23," Dwyer spoke into the biophone. "We have a 30 year old male who is not breathing. Apparent allergic reaction. Vitals are: pulse 120 and thready, bp 90/76, rescue breathing is being performed." |
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"Squad 23, start bilateral saline I.V.s," Brackett's strong voice answered them. "Insert one amp epinephrine in one and 150 mg antihistamine in the other. Insert esophageal airway and administer oxygen at 15 liters per minute. Transport as soon as possible." Dwyer repeated the instructions back to Rampart and then moved to help his partner follow them. "Damn!" Bellingham swore as the esophageal airway refused to fit past the swelling in Johnny's throat. "Get me a smaller one!" Finally, after three tries, they managed to get an airway established. Granted, it was a much smaller one than a man his size needed, but it was better than a tracheotomy. "Rampart, ambulance is on the scene. ETA 8 minutes." "Roger that 23." |
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************************** The code-I located at Station 51 was enough to take the squad out of service. It was NOT, however, enough to take the whole station out. Okay, by all rights, it should have. But they were toned out before it occurred to Captain Stanley that maybe his men weren't in the right frame of mind for this. If it hadn't been a 4-alarm fire, he would've passed on it entirely. As it was, he swore a blue streak as the engine followed the ambulance for about three blocks before it had to turn towards the fire. *************************** Roy was still sitting where Dixie had parked him over an hour before with a cup of coffee when Dr. Brackett walked into the waiting room. He looked up when he heard the door open and leapt to his feet as soon as he saw who it was. "Doc? How's he doing?" "He'll be okay, Roy," Brackett said with a sigh and slight smile. "Once the drugs got into his system, his throat opened enough for a decent-sized airway. He's breathing on his own now and they're just getting him settled in a room." "Is he awake?" "Not yet, but that's to be expected after all he's been through. He'll probably be out another couple of hours or so. And even then, it'll probably be a couple of days before he's his energetic old self again." A sudden, dreadful thought struck Roy. He looked at Brackett with fearful eyes. "What about the lack of oxygen? Could there be...I mean could he have..." He was reluctant to say the words. |
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"Brain damage?" Brackett, being a doctor, could say it. "You started rescue breathing for him almost immediately and since you were able actually get air through to him, it shouldn't be an issue. Of course, we won't know until he wakes up, but I think he'll come through this unscathed." Roy breathed a sigh of relief. "When can I see him?" "They should have him settled any time now. But what I want to know is how in the hell the squad got locked up to the point you couldn't open it?" Roy chuckled as he moved to warm up his now cold coffee. He topped off his cup and poured one for Brackett. "That's a long story, Doc. Got time?" "Wouldn't miss it," Brackett said with a smile as he accepted the mug from Roy. ******************************* Roy was on his way out when the men of Station 51 finally managed to get to Rampart. "Roy? How is he?" Chet asked anxiously. "He's gonna be fine," Roy said with a smile. "He's sleeping now. Doc says they'll probably keep him overnight for observation and he'll be out for a few more days after that." "That's certainly good news," Stanley said. "Roy? You need a ride back to the station?" "Yeah, thanks," Roy smiled. "Are you guys gonna go up to see him?" "We came straight from the scene," Stanley explained. "It's late, we're worn out and he probably needs his rest. If he's sleeping and he's fine, we'll just see him when he gets out tomorrow." "Uh, Cap?" Chet spoke up. "You mind if I go up for a minute?" |
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"Kelly, I don't think..." Stanley trailed off as he saw the look on Chet's face. "Okay, we'll be waiting." Chet smiled gratefully as he moved towards the elevator. ************************** Chet moved carefully into the room, afraid of waking his friend. He stood there silently for a few minutes, watching Johnny sleep. After satisfying himself that Johnny was fine, he turned to leave. "Chet?" a soft voice reached his ears. "That you?" "Sorry, Johnny," Chet answered. "Didn't mean to wake you. Just wanted to make sure you were okay...that I hadn't killed you or anything." "Yeah, I'm fine," Johnny said. "I'm a little hoarse, but I think that's from the tube they shoved down my throat." "Look, I just wanted to say I'm really sorry 'bout the whole snails thing. I should've told you what they were to begin with. I thought I was playing this great practical joke and I nearly kill you. If you never want to speak to me again, I'll understand." "Chet, you didn't know I was allergic to snails," Johnny said as he moved to a more comfortable position. "Hell, I didn't know I was allergic to snails. Yeah, if you had told me what they were, I probably wouldn't have eaten them, but you didn't shove them down my throat either. I ain't mad at you. I know it was an accident. I forgive you. Okay?" "Okay," Chet answered gratefully. "I was afraid you'd hate me for almost killing you." |
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"Nah," Johnny said good-naturedly. "For some of those water balloons, maybe. But not for not knowing I was allergic to snails. If it makes you feel any better, they were kinda good. You could be a decent cook if you put your mind to it." Chet chuckled, "Yeah, I can just see it. I retire from the fire department and head to my new career. 'Would you like fries with that?'" Johnny laughed and then yawned. "We okay now?" "Yeah," Chet smiled. "Thanks pal." "S'alright. Now get outta here, I'm gonna get some sleep." ************************* It was morning by the time the weary crew of Station 51 returned to their place of origin. Most of B-shift had already arrived. As they walked back from the engine to the dorm, they saw Craig Brice standing by the damaged compartment on the squad. He turned to look at Roy with a puzzled expression. "DeSoto? What happened to the squad?" Chet advanced on Brice with a stormy look on his face. "WHERE THE HELL DID YOU PUT THE KEY?" "I put it on Roy's pillow in the dorm," Brice answered with a puzzled look. "Why should you care where it is, Kelly?" |
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Chet had Brice pinned against the squad before he deigned to answer. "Why couldn't you put it where it could be found easily? You nearly KILLED Johnny!" "CHET!" Roy grabbed the stocky firefighter and pulled him off the confused paramedic. "Relax! It's not worth it! Come on, let him go." "But…he…but, Johnny…he…" Chet pulled against Roy for a minute before relaxing and looking at the rest of his shift. "But…" "It's alright, Chet," Captain Stanley. "Brice, in my office. You too, Roy." With a wary look at Chet and the rest of the men in the room, Brice headed into the Captain's office, followed by Roy. Stanley gave Chet an encouraging look before following his men into the small room off the engine bay. *************************** When he got into his office, he saw something he never thought he would - Roy had Craig Brice pinned against the wall. "You couldn't have left me a NOTE telling me where you put the key? Dammit, Johnny almost died because we couldn't get into the squad!" "What are you talking about?" Brice was truly baffled by this point. "DESOTO!" Stanley pulled his paramedic off the smaller man. "Let me deal with this! If you can't behave yourself, maybe you better wait outside with the other men." Roy took a deep breath and sat down in the chair next to the desk. "I'm fine, Cap. I'm fine." "Fine," Stanley said as he ran a hand through his hair. "Brice, IS there a reason you didn't leave a note telling Roy where to find the key?" "I thought he would find it easily enough. I didn't think I'd need a note." "Well, it didn't occur to you that it was entirely possible that Roy wouldn't go to the dorms until lights out?" "Well, there was a huge mess on the table at the time and I feared the key would get lost." Stanley scrubbed his face with both hands and looked at Brice and then Roy and then back to Brice. |
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"Consider yourself reprimanded," Stanley said. "Next time, leave a note or something." "Yes, Captain Stanley. Now, could you please tell me something?" "What is it Brice?" "What DID happen to Gage?" "Roy, why don't you go get changed and go home. You look like you're ready to drop." With one last, withering glare at Brice, Roy headed out of the office. ************************* The next afternoon, Johnny was pacing around his hospital room when a wheelchair rolled in pulling Roy DeSoto. "Hey, Partner! Ready to go home?" "After a stay in this place, when am I NOT ready to go home?" "So, your chariot awaits! Have a seat and we can blow this pop stand." "What happened at the station? Anyone get in trouble for this?" Roy shrugged. "Brice got a verbal reprimand for not letting anyone know where he put the key, Cap got a verbal reprimand for letting Chet cut up the squad and Chet got a good teasing from the rest of the guys for panicking into going for the K-12 in the first place." "He didn't get in trouble?" "He got a verbal reprimand from the Chief for losing his head, but not really." "So, verbal reprimands all around then? You get one for anything too?" Roy looked sheepish. "I kinda tried to beat up Brice for not letting anyone know where he left the key." |
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"You WHAT?" Johnny turned in the chair to look at his partner. "You…Mr. Mild-Mannered…Mr. Can't-We-Settle-This-Without-A-Fight tried to beat someone up?" "Well…" Roy blushed. "That's my boy!" Johnny grinned. "Now, take me home!" "Whatever you want, Junior," Roy said with a sigh as he pushed Johnny through the halls of the hospital towards the parking lot. END |
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