I am not Stephenie Meyer just in case you were confused. I do not own these characters.
I do own a blue fuzzy throw blanket, a Tim Hortons coffee mug, and sexy paramedic husband who just climbed out of bed……
I want to thank said sexy husband for his help on this chapter. So thank you Andre! You are my heart…..and my hero. The banter between Edward and Seth is modeled after my husband and his best friend Norm and the way they are when the work together on a DAILY basis…scary really.
This chapter is dedicated to AndreaRN and Hannah-clocks! You guys rock!
EPOV
I quickly said goodbye to Bella and hung up the phone as the pager went off indicating a transfer. Seth rolled his eyes and grinned at me "Come on lover boy, let's go."
I groaned loudly, I hated transfers. We all hated transfers but it was an inherent part of our job and we all learned to accept it. I pulled a quarter out of my pocket wishing for once I had a double headed coin. "Let's flip for it. Heads I drive, tails you attend."
Seth agreed quickly not paying attention to my words and I smirked and flipped the coin up into the air before catching it. "Aw, man it's heads. Guess you are stuck attending."
Seth flipped me the bird and climbed into the rig beside me. As we prepared to book out with dispatch Seth finally caught on to my scheme. "You assbag! You cheated….heads you drive, tails I attend?" He scoffed sarcastically. "I don't think so. For that little stunt, you can attend the call."
I started laughing holding onto my sides. Seth stared at me incredulously. "Man, Bella has been good for you. I have never seen you so relaxed. Maybe you should get some more often McDreamy. Hell, maybe I should go see Bella too."
I raised one eyebrow at him. He wanted to play hardball, I was in. I picked up the radio and called dispatch to book out and was pleased to hear Sue Clearwater's low, calm voice respond back to me. I always liked working with Sue on dispatch. Not only because she was my partner's mother, but because she was always calm, friendly and remained tranquil even in the high pressure situations.
Today I was happy to hear her voice for another reason. I turned to Seth as he pulled out of the station. "Man, I like your mom. Her voice is so sexy. Maybe while you go visit Bella, I could go see her if you know what I mean." I smirked at him and he scowled and stomped down on the gas pedal throwing me forward.
"Eat shit, Edward. My mom is a saint." Seth growled out.
"Yeah, she's real religious, that's why she was screaming "Oh God" the last time we were together." I smiled at him and winked.
"You need to be medicated. No never mind, you need to be institutionalized." Seth was grinning now, enjoying the banter between us.
We were just approaching the hospital when we heard Sue's voice come over the radio asking another crew their location. The other crew quickly responded and we waited curiously to hear what the directive would be.
"4-2-1-3, what's your 10-20?" Sue's voice crackled over the airway. Before we even had time to pick up the mic to respond to her she was on the radio once again. "4-2-1-3 Call dispatch!" Sue sounded somewhat stressed which was odd for her.
Seth quickly picked up the radio and responded. "The corner of Elm Street and Westwood Road."
"4-2-1-3 you are the closest car. You need to proceed on a code 3 …." I was instantly apprehensive; a code three was the highest priority, a true emergency, life or limb call. This was the type of call that I had gotten into this profession for. Normally I would be excited to be attending, but something in Sue's voice left a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. I snapped my attention back to the radio.
"4356 Water Street. You will be attending a four year old patient who is choking." Sue's voice was urgent and I swallowed hard. Seth immediately turned on the lights and sirens and accelerated.
Choking, oh no. I remembered back to my clinical training days at the children's hospital where I witnessed a nine year old patient choking on a hotdog. Despite the emergency physician's best efforts, the child had died. The experienced was seared into my memory and I shuddered at the thought of what I might be facing.
When we were approximately two blocks from the call, Sue came back over the radio to give us an update. "4-2-1-3 call dispatch."
I grabbed the mic. "Go ahead dispatch, this is 4-2-1-3."
"I have an update for you." Sue paused. "The patient was eating a hard candy when she started to choke. She is still coughing, but is starting to turn blue."
I ran my fingers through my hair thinking. Coughing was a good sign; it meant she was still getting oxygen to her vital organs, although not much if she was turning blue. It was just enough to keep her alive.
We arrived at the scene and quickly grabbed all of our equipment not knowing what to expect and ran for the front the front door of the house. Usually when we attended calls we would knock on the door of a home and wait for someone to answer, but today Seth knocked and we quickly let ourselves in. The parents probably already thought we had taken long enough to show up even though our response time was less than five minutes.
The child's father met us in the hallway with tears in his eyes. "She stopped breathing. Oh God, please help her…..please!" His voice cracked halfway through and his hands were shaking.
"How long ago did she stop breathing?" I asked the father as I mentally began running scenarios in my head. The brain needed 4 minutes of oxygen deprivation before becoming permanently damaged.
"Approximately 30 seconds before you walked in." He was crying hard now, barely coherent in his fear.
I tried to calm myself. 30 seconds meant the child still had a good chance. I could do this.
"We will do everything we can to help your daughter." I heard Seth trying to calm him as we followed him further into the home.
As we strode into the living room I spotted the child lying limp in her frantic mother's arms as she cried out over and over again. "Chelsey, please baby, please breathe!"
A little boy, no older than two, was standing behind his mother with tears tracking down his face. Despite his young age, he was feeding off the emotions of his parents and knew something was very wrong.
I asked Seth to lay the child on the ground and start protocol as I readied my equipment. I turned and met Seth's grim expression "Airway , breathing, circulation…"Seth mumbled under his breath.
Although it had only been six months, Seth and I worked together like a well oiled machine. We were in tune with each other's thoughts and quick to predict what the other's next move would be. Usually this type of relationship took months if not years to develop between partners. I was glad I could count on him.
"No air is going in!" Seth urgently reported to me his expression serious.
Shit. Chelsey's airway was fully blocked now. No oxygen was being provided to her. This was not good. Her vital organs needed oxygen to survive. I steadied my hands and took a deep breath as Seth started giving chest thrusts.
"1,2,3,4…" I heard Seth counting over the mother's sobbing.
I look my laryngoscope in my left hand and placed in inside Chelsey's mouth to see if the candy obstructing her airway was visible and let out a relieved breath when I spotted it. Thank God! I reached out and grabbed a pair of forceps with my free hand. The forceps had an odd bend to them and were specifically made for this type of situation. The bend allowed for the medic to be able to grasp the foreign object without blocking their view.
I leaned towards Seth and quietly advised him that I could see the obstruction. Seth paused the chest thrusts for a moment as I inserted the forceps. I needed to keep steady. I didn't want to accidently drop the candy or push the obstruction further into the child's airway making it impossible to remove. There were no second chances in a situation like this; Chelsey could only go so long without oxygen.
" I've got it!" My voice was low but triumphant. I threw the candy and forceps to the side and quickly administered two breaths with my bag valve mask to assess if I completely relieved the blocked airway.
"Air is going in." I kept my voice calm and relaxed. Time passes so quickly in these situations. Two and a half minutes without oxygen could feel like a lifetime, but at least Chelsey had a chance at a full recovery.
I counted quietly. "1 one thousand, 2 one thousand, 3 one thousand…" I kept counting until I reached ten as I assessed whether or not Chelsey was breathing. I wished this was like television. You give the person 15 compressions and 2 breaths and the victim miraculously coughs and starts breathing before thanking the medic and going about their merry way and everyone lives happily ever after. Unfortunately, real life wasn't so easy.
"She is not breathing, can you check for a pulse?" I turned to Seth as Chelsey's mother started sobbing even harder behind me.
"Alright." I barely registered Seth's response. I was busy making calculations in my head. Pediatric calls were difficult in any circumstance and required a lot of mathematical equations when came to administering medication and performing emergency procedures.
I mentally began trying to determine the size of the endotracheal tube I would require so that I could provide Chelsey with the oxygen she so desperately needed.
As I reached for the proper sized tube Seth glanced up at me. "She has a pulse, but it is weak and rapid."
"Thank you," I mumbled as I once again inserted the laryngoscope blade inside Chelsey's mouth, sweeping her tongue to the left so that I could view her vocal chords.
Everybody's anatomy is different. Some people you can clearly see the vocal chords with little effort, and some people require a lot of maneuvering and repositioning. You only had about 30- 45 seconds to insert the endotracheal tube before having to ventilate again to ensure proper oxygenation.
I always timed this by holding my own breath. If I needed to take a breath myself, it meant that I had taken too long and should ventilate the patient again before continuing. I immediately saw her chords and felt myself relax slightly. This was going much better than my hospital placement had done.
On difficult occasions it was possible to miss the chords and place the tube into the stomach. If an EMT didn't recognize a missed intubation it would cause death to the patient. I smoothly maneuvered the tube through the chords then used my stethoscope to listen to Chelsey's stomach as Seth connected the bag valve mask to the tube and started to breathe for Chelsey.
"No air in the stomach." I advised Seth before proceeding to place my stethoscope on the left side of the child's chest to ensure air movement into her lungs.
"Air is going in." I confirmed, meeting Seth's anxious gaze. I finalized confirmation of proper intubation by placing the stethoscope on the right side of Chelsey's chest, but unfortunately was met by silence.
I glanced up at Seth to ensure he was ventilating with the bag valve mask. Once I confirmed that he was I knew immediately that I had placed the tube too far down into Chesley's lungs and had gone into the left lung. I quickly fixed the problem by pulling the tube back half an inch and reassessing the position.
Once I ascertained that air was moving through both lungs I secured the tube in place. By this time my backup crew had arrived on scene. Without requesting dispatch's permission I grabbed the mic to directly contact the other crew.
"4-4-0-1 this is 4-2-1-3." I barked out.
"4-2-1-3 go ahead. " I heard Mike Newton respond.
"Can you bring in the fracture board and get our stretcher ready?" I pushed my dislike of Mike into the back of my mind as I concentrated on my patient.
Seth and I always used a fracture board for intubated patients as we wanted to ensure we placed them on hard surface to minimize movement, decreasing the chance of the tube being dislodged. I thanked God that we were close by the nearest hospital and did not have to transport Chelsey very far.
We quickly boarded Chelsey and exited the home. Once she was securely placed in the back of our ambulance, I reassessed her condition as was pleased to see that her color had returned and her pulse was slowing to a normal speed.
We reached the hospital quickly and transferred Chelsey over into capable hands after giving our report to the emergency room staff. As I watched them wheel her away with her parents following quickly behind I hoped that I had made a difference and that Chelsey would make full recovery.
The adrenaline quickly wore off and I began shaking. I realized how close that call had been and that I could have easily lost that little girl. I slid down the wall and put my head between my knees trying to regain my composure.
I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to see Seth standing over me. "We did good man. You did good. Let's finish our paperwork and get the hell out of here."
I was surprised to see that my shift was almost over. I pushed myself up and took a deep breath before making my way over to EMT room to finish my patient call report. I could not wait to get home to Bella now. I needed a distraction. I knew when I closed my eyes I would see Chelsey lying limp in her mother's arms and the horror in her father's eyes. I was already second guessing every decision I had made on the call although things went smoothly.
"Hey Masen, the faster you get that done the faster you can go home to Bella." Seth smirked at me, his eyes mischievous.
Mike Newton's head shot up and he stared at me grinning. "Bella huh? Wow when do we get to meet your woman McDreamy?"
I shot a dirty look at Seth and smiled sweetly at Mike. "Naw, Bella's cute, but Sue Clearwater has it all. She's a real MILF y'know."
Mike snorted as Seth lunged towards me, missing me by inches as I laughed and darted out of the room. It was time to go home. My Bella was waiting for me.
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Tammy
