Chapter 11
It was nearly a week later when Sherlock had cause to worry seriously again about John. After everything that had happened with Victor, John had seemed OK. He took care of Sherlock, making sure that he would be alright and was recovering from the stress of it all.
Two days ago, John had become more subdued. There were no cases to distract him and Sherlock was keeping occupied with some analysis involving the human eyes Donovan had previously discovered during the 'drugs bust'.
Sherlock looked at the clock, it was past midday and John had yet to leave his room. With a sense of foreboding, he made his way up to John's room, remembering what happened a little over a week ago. Since then, Sherlock had made sure that John's gun was kept in the desk drawer in the living room.
John was lying on the bed with his back to the door when Sherlock entered the room. John's medical kit was open at the side of the bed. Two items had been dropped carelessly onto the floor beside it. The first was an empty syringe; the second was a bloody scalpel. Panicking, Sherlock ran to the bed and turned John onto his back.
The bedclothes and John's arms were covered in blood. Cursing, Sherlock grabbed John's phone from the bedside unit, dialling 999 while frantically searching for a pulse. It was weak and thready, but there. Sherlock gave the operator the details as quickly as he could, jamming the phone between his ear and shoulder as he grabbed John's arms holding them up and applying pressure to as much of the wounds as he could. He informed the operator that he suspected that John had also injected an anti-coagulant, before letting the phone drop so that he could concentrate on John.
The minutes before the ambulance arrived felt like hours, but eventually he heard Mrs Hudson letting them in and following them upstairs fussing over what was wrong. "Upstairs, Mrs Hudson, John's room." He shouted. The paramedics took over from Sherlock carefully and efficiently, examining the syringe on the floor and confirming that it was indeed an anti-coagulant.
Sherlock stood back as he watched the paramedics work, giving John oxygen, tightly binding his wounds and trying to find a vein for IV access.
Eventually, they found a viable vein and set up the cannula, injecting vitamin k directly into John's blood stream to encourage clotting, then hooking him up to a fast flowing saline drip. They then began the arduous task of transporting the prone man down to street level to the waiting ambulance. Sherlock followed in a daze and climbed into the back of the ambulance with John. As he was obviously in shock, the paramedics did not stop him, but continued hooking John up to blood pressure and heart monitors.
"His blood pressure is through the floor, 80 and falling" the paramedic at John's head said. "Respiratory effort is minimal. Let's get him intubated before we leave." The second paramedic finished locking the doors and turned to provide his colleague with the necessary equipment. Once John was attached to the ventilator, the ambulance pulled away at speed, sirens blaring.
They had been on the road for around five minutes when an alarm went off. "He's in VF! What's our ETA?"
"Three minutes" came the reply.
"Starting CPR. Can you radio ahead and inform the ED, please?"
Sherlock stared helplessly as the paramedic began pounding John's chest to keep the remaining blood pumping through his veins.
When they arrived at the hospital, the paramedics rushed John through the ED quickly firing off information to the waiting doctors.
"This is John Watson, 39 years old, attempted suicide, deep lacerations to both radial arteries. 2.5mg Clexane administered pre-injury. Blood pressure 70 systolic, GCS 7, arrested on route approximately four minutes ago. 5mg vitamin k administered at site."
John disappeared into the resuscitation room and Sherlock was led away by a nurse to give John's details. As he was following dutifully, a man went dashing into the resuscitation room, commanding that the doctors stop. Sherlock turned to listen.
"Dr. Watson's notes have been fast tracked. Under no circumstances is he to receive blood. His notes indicate that he had an acute haemolytic reaction in Afghanistan."
"Thanks, David." Came the reply. "Ok, keep pushing those fluids guys, preparing to shock" The door swung closed, cutting off the sounds of the doctors fighting to bring John back. Sherlock allowed himself to be led away again.