Fragile
Chapter 21
The ambulance ride to Rampart was relatively subdued. The intravenous fluids brought rapid relief of the dizziness for Roy, and the O2 worked its magic on the smoke inhalation. Ricky's coughing had generally abated as well, though the man was clearly uncomfortable with the current turn of events in his day. For his part, Terry Smith the attending paramedic efficiently monitored his two patients as they traveled.
Ricky had never ridden as a patient in an ambulance before. A very healthy person who wasn't prone to accidents, in fact Ricky had never seen the inside of the emergency room as a patient. Observing Ricky closely, Terry easily witnessed the younger man's apprehension. Placing a comforting hand on his patient, Terry softly inquired, "Is this your first time to play patient Ricky?"
Anxious green eyes turned to look at Terry. Ricky nodded affirmatively.
Terry smiled reassuringly. "Nothin' to it bud. Just relax and enjoy the ride." He soothed.
Roy couldn't help but witness the conversation. Turning his head so he could look down at Ricky on the gurney, Roy reached up and slipped the oxygen mask from his own face. "You've already made it through the toughest part of this trip…." Roy offered with a wink for Terry. Then gesturing with his free right hand toward Terry, Roy continued. "…letting this guy stick you. From here on, it'll be smooth sailing for this particular ride."
Terry and Roy's eyes met briefly then, and both exchanged knowing grins. With a look of mock indignation Terry protested. "Hey! I'm wounded here! That's the smoothest I.V. you'll ever get my friend!"
Next with one slick practiced motion Terry reached over and replaced Roy's oxygen mask gently chiding his colleague. "And you….keep this on, or I'm gonna begin to wonder which of 51's paramedics I have as a patient." Turning to address Ricky, in a voice clearly aimed at Roy, Terry continued, "I hear tell one of those guys over at 51's has been known to restrain a partner when he wouldn't stop messing with an O2 mask."
Roy grinned while raising his hands in surrender. "No need to be insulting Terry." Roy teasingly retorted from under the mask
The playful antics of the other two men helped Ricky relax some. Ricky reasoned to himself that these two experienced medics were obviously not concerned over the ambulance trip, and upcoming emergency room visit. Perhaps his anxiety was an overreaction to the situation. After taking a couple of long breaths, Ricky allowed himself to unwind and settle more comfortably into the cot's cushion. The fire had taken a toll on the young man. As he allowed himself to calm, he became aware of his own exhaustion.
Though Terry had busied himself with taking another set of vitals from his patients, he had covertly observed Ricky. Noting the younger man's less anxious demeanor, Terry turned to make eye contact with Roy. A silent nod of understanding was shared between Roy and Terry. Mission accomplished.
As predicted, the trip to Rampart turned out to be only a detour in Roy and Ricky's day. Both men were examined by a physician, given oral fluids, and made to rest and cool down while their I.V.s finished running. After a couple of hours, both paramedics were cautioned to stay hydrated, and not to overexert themselves for the rest of the day. Stern warnings received, both men were released for duty.
Marco met the two medics at the emergency entry with squad 51. Clean up at the fire had finally been completed only fifteen short minutes earlier, and Marco was thoroughly smoked and soot covered. When loading up to depart the hospital, Marco gladly slipped into the center seat of the vehicle allowing Roy to drive the trio back to the station. All three firemen were spent, and conversation was sparse while they traveled. Arriving back in quarters at last, Roy glanced down at his wristwatch to notice it was 11:45.
Turning to Marco, Roy questioned, "Who's cooking today?"
Marco smiled. "Mike, thank God. I think we're having sandwiches and tomatoes basil soup for lunch." He answered as he slid across the driver's seat to exit the truck.
Ricky felt drained. He wasn't sure he was hungry, but the air conditioning in the day room would feel good, and he followed the other two men inside.
Mike had showered first after the crew returned to the station, and when the squad arrived lunch was well underway. At about twelve fifteen, food was served. Everyone gathered around the table, soup was ladled and sandwiches were assembled.
Ricky reluctantly accepted a bowl of soup, but didn't immediately reach for sandwich fixings. He wasn't feeling particularly hungry at the moment. But hungry or not, the soup smelled too delicious to pass up. Dipping his spoon into the rich crimson viscous liquid, Ricky gingerly brought an experimental bite to his lips. When it entered his mouth, the thick warm soup coated his tongue allowing strong vibrant flavors of tangy tomatoes, garlic and basil to explode into his awareness. The comforting warmth as the creamy soup seeped down his throat was soothing to the firefighter's smoke ravaged esophagus. After a couple of bites, Ricky joined the others at the table in offering highest complements to the chef. Mike Stoker quietly acknowledged his coworkers praise with a shy smile.
The soup having wetted Ricky's appetite, he found himself gladly assembling a sandwich of salty pink ham, and white provolone cheese on deep brown crusty rolls. The sandwiches were a perfect complement to the soup, and all the men around the table eventually engaged in a game of dunk the sandwich in the soup. The flavors of cheese and salty ham surrounded by the fabulous soup as bread, meat and cheese met tomatoes was indescribably delectable, even if the site of red covering the pink and white of the sandwich innards might have been somewhat gory in appearance.
The noon time repast at station 51 went blissfully undisturbed, seemingly granted respite by the great fire gods. When all had sated hunger, men began to shower and clean away the smoke and soot of the morning's challenging rescue. As each man exited the shower, blissfully clean and cool each felt the instinct to rest. Heading the alluring call from tired bodies, in combination with abundant food, and a hard morning's labor; weary firemen were allowed to slip away and indulge in a quick afternoon nap. It was from this luxurious nap the station tones jerked Ricky and Roy forty five short minutes later as the squad was toned out for a man down call.
Arriving on scene, the paramedics of station 51 were greeted by a woman standing on the sidewalk frantically waving to them as they approached. The petite brunette lady was clad in a cream colored dress; or at least it had at one time been cream colored. Now the woman's dress was adorned with massive streaks of red.
"You get the equipment." Roy ordered as he brought the squad to an abrupt halt, and bailed out to dash to the distressed woman's side.
Ricky did as he was told. He quickly jumped from the squad, opened the compartment doors, and retrieved the biophone, drug box and trauma box.
Roy approached the blood soaked woman. "Ma'am, where are you injured." Roy began while visually inspecting her to gauge where all the blood had come from.
"No, No! I'm not hurt. It's my husband Richard." The woman frantically replied. "Please, hurry! He's bleeding everywhere!"
"Where is your husband Ma'am?" Roy calmly asked.
The woman quickly took off running for the garage. "He is in the garage! He was trying to sharpen a machete…..it slipped! He's cut his leg…BAD! Blood is spurting everywhere!" The frantic woman almost screamed.
"All right, calm down Ma'am." Roy soothed as he hastened his pace.
Ricky bearing the equipment quickly made up the distance he had lost while retrieving supplies; reaching Roy and the victim's wife just as they entered the garage. What he saw amazed and horrified the young medic. On the floor in a pool of blood lay a man of about thirty. The man's leg was covered in several thoroughly blood soaked towels. Streaks of blood from what Ricky presumed must have been arterial spurting were visible on the nearby wall and cabinetry. The olive skinned victim was an unhealthy pasty color, and obviously unconscious.
Turning at the sound of Ricky's steps, Roy reached back and relieved his young partner of the trauma box. Quickly Roy opened the box and retrieved a large tourniquet which he applied around the man's lag near the groin. While he worked Roy spoke to Ricky. "Get me several large trauma pads, some kerlix, and a roll of that wide self adhering elastic bandage.
Hastily Ricky found the requested items, handing them off to Roy as they were needed. After sufficiently tightening the tourniquet onto the man's leg, Roy hastily removed the blood soaked towels from the victim's wound. His examination revealed a clean laceration of about six inches in length slicing through skin, fat, muscle and blood vessels in the man's thigh. Roy first grabbed sterile trauma pads and pressed them over the wound. Next he wrapped the entire thigh in heavy kerlix, and then in constrictive elastic bandage.
While Roy was winding the final layer of bandage he spoke to Ricky. "Get me a set of vitals."
Ricky had efficiently acted as assistant while Roy examined and bandaged the injury. But, watching the procedure had taken a toll on the young medic. Looking over his partner's shoulder when Roy uncovered the wound, Ricky could easily appreciate the yellowish white fatty layers, and deep pink and red muscle bathed in viscous crimson liquid beneath golden brown skin. Ricky's treacherous mind wickedly compared the sight before his eyes to the lunch he had eaten only an hour earlier. The association his nimble thoughts created caused Ricky to feel queasy suddenly. Momentarily awash in his own personal misery, Ricky missed Roy's initial request for vitals.
Involved in stabilizing the injury, at first Roy didn't realize Ricky's dilemma. When the bandaging was complete it suddenly dawned on him Ricky wasn't taking vitals. Turning his head to glance at Ricky, Roy noticed the greenish hue the younger man's face had assumed. Without a word Roy snatched the drug box from the ground next to Ricky, and sat it down beside the victim.
Efficiently Roy opened the drug box and snatched out a stethoscope and blood pressure cuff. Fitting the cuff around the injured man's arm, Roy slipped the earpieces of the stethoscope into his own ears. As he pumped up the cuff, Roy addressed his partner. "Ricky." Roy spoke softly yet with enough energy to get the younger medic's attention. "Call Rampart for me."
Roy's voice brought Ricky back to the present moment. With a quick shake of his head to clear the muck from his brain, Ricky grabbed the biophone and assembled it for transmission. By the time Ricky made contact with someone at Rampart, Roy had a set of vitals to relay.
Ricky carefully recorded the vitals as he relayed them, and then noted the dual wide open I.V.'s with Lactated Ringer's that were ordered. While Ricky relayed the vitals and hospital orders, Roy who already predicted the treatment hastily assembled the two I.V.'s. Roy handed one set-up to Ricky, and took the other for himself. The two medics then efficiently established intravenous routes for volume replacement in their victim.
The ambulance ordered by headquarters when the squad was originally dispatched arrived just before the medics had finished packaging their patient for transport. Ricky picked up the medical litter and carefully stowed it for later disposal while Roy closed up the equipment, and led the frightened wife to the front seat of the ambulance. Roy climbed into the back of the ambulance with the patient, and sent Ricky to drive the squad.
The remainder of the run was uneventful. The patient was delivered to Rampart stable, and the final prognosis was good. After washing up, and collecting supplies the two paramedics trooped out to the squad headed back to the station.
For a few minutes the pair traveled in silence. Finally Roy spoke. "You o.k.?"
Ricky sighed heavily. "Yeah…. Look, Roy, I want you to know I am not squeamish. The sight of blood doesn't usually bother me. I just….."
Roy smiled congenially, and hazarded a quick look at the man on the other side of the vehicle. "Well, you've certainly had two tough runs so far on your first day."
Ricky's shoulders slumped, and he bent to rest his head in his hands. After a few moments, and another heavy sigh he spoke again. "I guess. This day is just not turning out how I imagined." There was a long pause before Ricky continued to speak. "You know, I was really nervous when I found out I would be partnered with you." Ricky chanced a quick look at Roy's face then.
"I wanted everything to go just right. You and your partner have a great reputation. I wanted to impress you. I'm a good medic Roy, really I am." Ricky exclaimed helplessly. "Then getting turned around in the smoke at this morning's fire, ending up with heat exhaustion flat on my back in an ambulance…..now almost puking on a patient on my second run with you…." Ricky stopped speaking again covering his face with his hands. "This is not how today was supposed to go!"
A long silence followed. Roy knew the kid was green, but he'd seen flashes of promise in how the guy handled himself on these two very tough runs. He'd likely turn out to be a good medic.
Finally Roy spoke. "Look Ricky, sometimes out here, in the trenches…..it isn't about impressing anyone. Sometimes you do all you can to survive to fight another day. It's been a tough day for all of us so far. And….as I recall, I was flat on my back in the same ambulance that took you in to Rampart. It happens. Stop beating yourself up, and stop trying to impress. You're gonna do just fine. Relax."
Ricky dropped his hands into his lap. Shaking his head in disbelief he silently listened. "He's just being nice. I'll probably never be asked to partner with him again." Ricky mused glumly.
Stealing another glance at Ricky, Roy could easily read the disbelief on the young medic's face. It was pretty obvious the events of the day were getting to Ricky, and Roy sincerely wanted to help the young medic learn to work through difficult times because today was likely not going to be the worst one he could potentially have in his career. After allowing as much silence as he dared, Roy finally spoke to his young partner again. "Give up on the idea you can control the events that come your way. We have enough to do to contain the disasters. Control is just a fantasy we feed ourselves so we don't have to face the notion we are simply helpless sometimes. Life happens. Deal with it as best you can, and move on."
The pair again rode on in silence until they reached the station. After backing the truck into the apparatus bay, Roy cut the engine and turned to face Ricky.
"Tell you what Ricky. How about for the rest of the day, you take lead on the rescues. I'll back you up, but you take the lead. I think you need a chance to really see you do know what you are doing. You just need experience to bolster your confidence." Roy suggested.
"I don't know Roy. My track record this morning isn't the greatest. Sure you want to do that?" Ricky questioned.
Roy opened his door and stepped out of the squad as he answered. "Absolutely!" The squad door was firmly swung closed, and Roy headed toward the kitchen leaving Ricky to silently watch him go and consider the potential the day offered.
The medics wouldn't have to wait long for their next run. Coffee had been poured, and both men were in the process of seating themselves at the kitchen table when tones sounded calling them to a maternity case. Slipping into the squad, the men rolled out with siren wailing and red lights flashing.
The squad arrived on scene in less than three minutes. Roy helped gather equipment, but as he'd promised, Roy nudged his temporary partner to take the lead. Their victim was in a grocery market. She'd been shopping when her water broke. This baby was her fourth child, and labor had gone almost unnoticed for the woman, dismissed as gas pains or minor cramping. When she'd suddenly felt the membrane rupture, and the resulting flood of liquid, the woman had made her way to the manager's office of the store and requested someone call an ambulance and her husband. The flustered manager had dialed the fire department figuring they'd know what to do.
Ricky stepped into the manager's office first, followed by Roy. The victim was calmly seated in an office chair. She smiled warmly at the two firemen and introduced herself. "Hi, I'm Jasmine Wallace." After she'd spoken, the first recognizable, and strong contraction caught her, and with short shallow breath the experienced woman rode out the spasm.
Behind Ricky, Roy glanced at his wristwatch observing the current time, and measuring the length of the contraction. To Roy's relief, Ricky too glanced at his own watch while stepping over and laying a gentle hand on the woman's belly. In 45 seconds when the contraction had finished, Ricky spoke gently to Jasmine. "Hello Ma'am. I'm Ricky Wesley. I am a paramedic with the L.A. County Fire Department. Relax; we'll get you taken care of."
Ricky sat the drug box down, and began taking vital signs while chatting easily with the patient. After only a couple of minutes with the medics, Jasmine again began yet another contraction. Dutifully this was timed as well.
Roy had delivered enough babies to realize contractions so close together, and of extended length meant this baby was impatient to greet the world. Smiling to himself, Roy quickly dashed out to the squad for a couple of yellow blankets. When he returned, Roy spread a blanket on the floor, and helped Ricky assist the laboring woman to lie down.
Leaving Ricky to examine and comfort Jasmine, Roy made contact with Rampart. Roy assisted with treating the woman, but allowed Ricky to run the rescue. Careful observations indicated to the skilled paramedic trainer that Ricky, though at first seemingly tentative, was actually a very competent medic.
As they were needed, Roy handed Ricky cord clamps and scissors. Ricky completed the delivery and after clearing the child's airway was rewarded with a strong cry of protest from the small being. Wrapping the small bundle into a blanket, Ricky gently handed the baby boy to his proud mother. The baby had been delivered in short order with no complications.
The medics helped Jasmine through the last vestiges of delivery, carefully salvaging and packaging the placenta for transport with the new mother and child. When the ambulance arrived, Jasmine and her new son were carefully lifted onto the gurney. Ricky rode with the patients in the ambulance while Roy gathered up supplies, picked up waste at the scene, and followed in the squad to Rampart.
After arriving at Rampart, Roy resupplied the expended materials and stowed the drug and trauma boxes in the squad. When Ricky emerged from the treatment room bearing a bright smile, Roy was leaning against the wall at Dixie's desk. When the younger medic approached, both Dixie and Roy stopped talking, and smiled knowingly at one another.
Ricky stepped over and joined his partner at the nurse's station.
Dixie smiled warmly at the young medic. Pointing the pen she'd been holding at Ricky she remarked, "Well, you like the cat that ate the canary." And she smiled at the man.
Ricky positively beamed back at her. "Yeah. That was great! I've never delivered a baby before. I've assisted, you know, in training. But this was the first one I've gotten to do myself. What a great feeling. To hold new life in my hands as that little infant took his first breath." Ricky slowly shook his head in disbelief and awe of the miracle he'd just experienced. "That was the best thing to ever happen for me!"
Turning to face Roy, Ricky favored him with a brilliant white smile. "Thanks Roy. I know you didn't have to let me take the lead. Man! That was so awesome!" He exclaimed.
Roy chuckled fondly before answering. "I'm glad to have been a part of your initiation into the stork club." Slapping the younger man's back heartily Roy continued, "Now come on partner, let's get back to work."
Both men bid Dixie a fond farewell, and trotted out to the emergency room door to head back to the station.
The rest of the afternoon and evening was relatively slow. The squad was called out for two minor medical calls. One was a woman who had sprained an ankle by falling off her high heeled shoes. The other was a man who'd slammed his finger in his car door and needed help extricating himself. The second man could have been transported, but declined assuring the men he would drive himself to the hospital. After he signed a release, the medics had no choice but to allow him to go on his way.
As promised, Roy maintained a supportive role in each rescue while allowing Ricky to take the lead. The young medic had an easy communication style that lent itself well to working with people. Patients responded positively to him, and Ricky's confidence seemed to solidify with each successful run he handled under Roy's watchful eye.
After the crew enjoyed dinner together, a couple of quiet hours were occupied as the men sat together and enjoyed a movie on television. Captain Stanley even spent the evening with his crew because he found with the rather slow day the engine company had experienced, Hank was actually caught up on his paperwork.
Everyone turned in after the evening news. Sleep came easily to the two paramedics. It had been a long day for them, beginning with their time as patients at Rampart.
During the night, the engine company paid dearly for their easy day. There were four different calls for dumpster fires. Unfortunately, though the medics were allowed to remain behind for the trash fire calls, the jarring sounds of the tones and klaxon coupled with the sudden bath of illumination originating when lights were automatically clicked on for the alarms caused the night to pass fitfully for the two tired paramedics.
When morning wake up tones sounded, everyone grumpily greeted the morning. Dressing and preparing for shift change little conversation was exchanged. Coffee was drunk in grouchy silence until B shift began to arrive.
Before Ricky departed from station 51, he took a moment to speak with Roy. A hearty handshake and heartfelt thank you were offered by the young medic. He'd appreciated Roy's guidance through the shift, and expressed his hope he'd again have an opportunity to partner with Roy in the future.
Roy shook Ricky's hand smiling warmly. "You're gonna do all right Ricky. Who knows, with as often as that partner of mine ends up on the injured list, you just might get your wish. I'd be honored to work with you again." Roy genuinely intoned offering the younger man a friendly clap on the back as they said there farewells.
Roy bid his crewmates goodbye then, grabbed his duffle bag and headed for his little yellow sports car. As Roy walked, he wondered how his family's last 24 hours had gone, and whether his dear friend had remembered to honor the promise he had given Roy as Roy had prepared to leave for work the previous morning.
Sliding behind the wheel of his car, Roy started the ignition and carefully steered the small agile vehicle into morning traffic. It had been a long stressful shift. Roy was relieved to be going home, and hopeful Johnny would be released for duty on Wednesday. Ricky held promise as a young medic, but he was still a young medic. Roy would welcome having his trusted partner again at his side.