The younger man drove, which Lestrade was immeasurably relieved about. He seemed to still be in training, and while he thought that was wonderful, he didn't want him treating Sherlock. Lestrade kept an eye on the monitors, and while not knowing what any of the spikes meant, was still relieved that they were there at all.
The older paramedic smiled at him reassuringly, and Lestrade didn't like that.
He pushed another syringe full of medication into the IV line and Lestrade couldn't help but ask.
"What's that?"
"Adnosine," he explained. "We gave him a dose before, but it wasn't having enough of an effect. It's to try and bring down his blood pressure, which is contributing to the fever."
They'd draped a cooling blanket over Sherlock, but Lestrade could tell that his temperature still wasn't anywhere near normal.
Lestrade was afraid to clasp his hand, worried that he'd only make him warmer.
Sherlock was still unconscious when, a moment later, his body stiffened again.
"He's seizing again," the paramedic noted grimly, attempting to roll Sherlock on his side. Lestrade reached over to pull Sherlock towards him as the seizing began.
"He's seizing again Paul!" the paramedic bellowed, grabbing yet another syringe to inject into Sherlock's IV line.
Paul, who must have been the driver said something into a radio, and received a reply that he couldn't make out either.
Still gripping Sherlock to keep him on his side, Lestrade pulled out his phone and reset the timer.
He knew this wasn't good.
Sherlock stopped seizing just before they reached the hospital, and Lestrade helped roll him onto his back again. It had only been three minutes, but Lestrade had never know Sherlock to have more than one seizure at a time. More than one in a day perhaps, but not without waking up in between.
Lestrade rushed to keep up with the gurney once it was unloaded from the ambulance as the paramedic sped along, spewing numbers to the woman who'd appeared. She seemed to be the doctor, even though Lestrade felt old looking at her. That just wasn't fair.
"Known epileptic in status. Six minutes at the scene, then another three minutes in the ambulance. Pulse is elevated at 135 bpm, blood pressure is also high after 12 mg of adenosine at 171 over 95, temp is 39, and that's after being doused with water at the scene and a cooling blanket. Resps are weak at 10, but I didn't want to tube him while he was seizing. Possible cocaine overdose, definite intoxication, although we can't tell if that's the cause of the seizure or not."
The doctor nodded, accepting all this information, breathing it in like air.
"Alright," she said. "We'll tube him right away then."
Sherlock was rolled into a room, and Lestrade had the presence of mind to wait outside.
The older paramedic came out of the room and put a hand on Lestrade's shoulder.
"I hope he recovers quickly," he said, smiling at Lestrade, and they both knew the underlying sentiment.
I hope he survives.
"Me too," Lestrade whispered, and the man left, leaving him to watch as the young doctor expertly inserted a tube into Sherlock's throat to breathe for him.
A nurse came out of the room.
"Can I help you sir?" she asked, not sounding at all like she was interested in helping, but rather in removing him from the line of sight.
"Detective Inspector Lestrade. I'll be staying with him," Lestrade told them, flashing his badge, and knew that he would continue to until it was absolutely impossible for him be with Sherlock, or at least nearby observing.
She relented and returned to the room just as one of the alarms went off.
The young doctor started doing CPR on Sherlock and it was all Lestrade could do to stay on his feet.
His heart had stopped. Oh god.
There were hurried orders of drugs and procedures, but Lestrade couldn't hear any of it.
The nurse stopped squeezing the bag forcing air into Sherlock's lungs and stood back. The doctor performing CPR did the same, and instead pressed paddles to Sherlock's chest. To jolt his heart back into working. It didn't seem to work, because she resumed CPR for a minute. Then they shocked him again, his body spasming like he was having a seizure, except he wasn't. The doctor looked at the monitor with a satisfied expression. Sherlock's heart was beating again.
Lestrade sank to the floor, nearly crying with relief.
