Twenty Nine
It was 9am two days later. The doctor took his stethoscope out of his ears. "You're that fit", he told Virgil, "you shouldn't be lying about in bed. You're lucky."
"Really!" Virgil couldn't believe his ears. "I can get up now?"
"If you like. You could take Scott for a walk if he wants to go."
Scott was out of his bed in a flash. "C'mon Virg. I need the exercise." He plucked at Virgil's sleeve.
"Oh, I don't know." Virgil teased. "I've kinda got used to relaxing all day."
"Virgil!" Scott pulled at his arm. "Come on."
"Okay, if you insist." Virgil chuckled. "Thanks Doc."
"Just take it easy." The doctor reminded him. "No 100 metre sprints."
Five minutes later found them at the hospital entrance. "You know," Virgil said, "I'm tempted to walk out of here and just keep going."
"Only as long as you took me with you." Scott told him. "I would hate to be left here all alone."
Virgil shrugged his shoulder, getting used to the weight of the cast. "Well... Where do you want to go?"
"How about circumnavigating the grounds. There's some flower gardens I want you to describe to me. They smell wonderful."
Virgil smiled. It had been a long time since Scott Tracy had taken any interest in flowers. "Did Nurse Stone take you there?"
Scott's mood darkened. "Yeah. She said they 'stimulated the senses'." He did a mocking imitation of her voice. "How stupid."
"And did they?"
"Did they what?"
"'Stimulate the senses.'"
"Are you kidding?"
"No. You've already said that they smelt good. Did you hear anything? Did you touch anything...?"
"Did I taste anything? You're beginning to sound like her!"
They'd reached the corner of the building and rounded it. To their left was the 12-storey hospital. To their right an eight-foot concrete block wall.
Virgil continued his theme. "Is that a bad thing? She was only trying to help. Why don't you like..."
"Can you smell something?" Scott asked.
"What? There's no flowers here." They'd stopped walking.
"No. Not flowers. Gas."
"Gas?" Virgil looked around and then his eyes widened. "Wait here." He ordered and before Scott could respond, he was gone.
He was slightly breathless when he returned. "It's one of the maintenance engineers. A gas canister's fallen on him, across his chest. He's unconscious. I've turned off the valve - stopped the gas. Do you think you could lift the canister while I pull him out?"
"If you think I can, I can."
The gas bay was in a little alcove, which effectively cut it off from view at the front of the hospital.
Virgil surveyed the scene quickly. "The door to the gas bay's locked. He's lying on the left side, so I'll have to pull him out that way. There's still plenty of gas about so we'll have to hold our breaths. I'll get you into position and you start lifting. As soon as we're clear I'll let you know and you'll have to follow us. Can you do that?"
Scott took a deep breath. Partly to get a good lungful of clean air, and partly to steady his nerves. "I can do it." He said positively. He looped the handle of his cane about his arm so he wouldn't lose it.
"Good." Virgil took a couple of deep breaths himself. "Lets go."
It was the fastest Scott had moved under his own power, since his accident. He put his faith in Virgil not to let him trip over anything. They stopped and Virgil placed Scott's hand on the canister. Feeling around it Scott bent his knees, got a grip and started straightening his legs.
Virgil managed to lift the man's upper torso slightly and wrapped his good arm under the older mans arm and around his chest. He then pulled backwards. To his great relief the man slid out easily.
Lungs bursting Scott listened to the scraping sound. When he thought they were clear he lowered the canister again. Then he had the problem of finding his way out of the dangerous gas pocket.
"Over here, Scott." He heard Virgil call in an expulsion of air. "Follow my voice."
Scott turned to the left and moved forward, tapping his cane in front of him. He desperately needed to take another breath, but wasn't sure if it would be safe. His cane met with the wall of the hospital and he put his right hand out to touch it. From there it was a relatively simple matter to follow the wall with his right hand while his left used the cane to check for obstacles.
"He's not breathing!" There was urgency in Virgil's voice. "I'm going to have to start C.P.R!"
Scott released his breath hoping he was far enough away from the gas to be safe. On his first intake of air he realised it air smelt relatively clear.
Virgil was struggling with only being able to use one arm. "I can't get the airway open enough." He tried a couple of breaths, but was barely able to get the engineers chest to move. He looked at Scott who was now parallel with them. "Can you manage C.P.R?"
"With my eyes shut." Scott assured him.
"Good!" Virgil attempted one more, ineffectual breath and then stood up quickly to get Scott. The world spun slightly. "Whoa! Oxygen depletion."
"You okay?" Scott asked in concern.
"Yeah, fine. This guy isn't though." Virgil led Scott to their patient and showed him where to kneel. He then went to the opposite side of the victim so he could keep an eye on things and keep out of Scott's way.
Scott quickly exhaled two breaths into the man's lungs and looked down the unconscious man's body. If he could have used his eyes he would have been watching for the rise and fall of the chest. Instead he felt the expulsion of air on his cheek.
"It's working." Virgil said excitedly.
Two more breaths and Scott felt for a pulse. "I'm not getting anything!" He reached down to the man's chest, felt up the rib line to the sternum and placed his hands in position. The fifteen compressions were punctuated by an all to familiar, unpleasant sound.
"There go the ribs." Virgil noted.
Two more breaths and then back to the chest compression. Scott was getting into the routine.
Virgil decided that it was time to try and get some assistance. He stood again. "Help! Is anyone there?" he yelled.
A bird flew off with a rustle of feathers, but the only other sound was of the life-giving C.P.R. and a distant hum of traffic.
Virgil tried yelling again, but to no avail.
"I'm going to have to go and get help." Virgil knelt on one knee and placed a hand on Scott's shoulder. "You going to be okay?"
Scott was back into the chest compressions. "Go!" he said tersely.
Virgil went. He sprinted to the front of the hospital and then around the corner. His cast was banging uncomfortably against his rib cage, but he ignored it. As he ran towards the entrance he noticed an ambulance pulled up outside. The paramedics were standing around talking.
"Hey!" Virgil tried to yell, but they didn't hear him.
He barrelled up to them and they looked at him as if he'd just arrived from another planet. His robe hung open, his sling had slipped, he was perspiring and panting for breath.
"Need help!" Virgil gasped. A week of illness and inactivity had taken its toll. "Gas leak. Unconscious. No pulse. Not breathing."
"Where?" One of the paramedics grabbed a kit from the back of the ambulance. Another reached in for a stretcher.
Without wasting breath Virgil set off on the return journey. The paramedics followed closely until they rounded the corner and saw Scott hard at work. They took off at a run to assist.
"Thanks pal." One of them said to Scott. "We'll take over now."
Virgil arrived. The short sprint had absolutely exhausted him. "Come on Scott." He placed his hand on Scott's shoulder. "Let's get out of their way."
Scott stood and let Virgil lead him back a few steps. A paramedic moved in to take his place.
Scott noticed that Virgil was leaning on him. "Are you alright?"
"Just a bit shaky. Didn't the Doctor say something about not doing 100 metre sprints? Now I know why."
"Come on. Where's the wall. Let's get you sitting down."
Once he was seated with the wall for support Virgil felt better. He started describing what was going on to Scott.
"...They've got an oxygen mask on Joe..."
"Joe?"
"That was the name on his overalls. Hang on someone's coming over."
A paramedic walked over to them and crouched down in front. "Are you two okay?" he asked solicitously.
They nodded.
"My names Stan. What's yours?"
"Scott Tracy and this is my brother Virgil."
"Are you feeling alright Virgil? You were a bit out of breath back there."
"Yeah. I've been confined to bed for a week. I'm just not used to the exercise."
The paramedic studied him. Virgil still looked a bit flushed, but as his breathing had improved he decided to leave it for the moment.
"Can you tell me what happened?"
Scott explained about finding and then rescuing Joe. "Is he going to be okay?"
"We've got a pulse, but he's still having problems breathing. Once we've got him inside the hospital we'll let the experts take over. They'll be able to give us a better idea. What are you two in for?"
"A generator blew up in my face and Virgil broke his arm trying to save me." Scott gave the abbreviated public version of their story.
A command of "Lift" alerted them to the fact that Joe was being transferred to a stretcher. He was soon readied for transportation into the hospital building.
"I think perhaps you'd both better go back to your rooms now. Do you need a hand?" Stan asked.
Scott shook his head and stood, but Virgil extended his arm. "I think I need a hand up." Stan took the proffered hand, pulled and Virgil rose quickly to a standing position. His legs buckled and Stan steadied him. "Do you want me to get you a stretcher?"
Virgil shook his head. "No. I'll be fine. I've just got to get the feeling back into my legs."
"How about a wheelchair?"
Virgil gently flexed his numb extremities. "No. Honestly I'm fine. They're starting to feel better already. If you let go I promise I won't fall over."
Reluctantly Stan released his grip and as promised Virgil remained standing. "Thanks." He said to the paramedic and then turned to his brother. "Are you ready to head back inside Scott?"
"Do you feel up to guiding me?" Underneath the bandages, Scott was getting a worried look that he got when things were slipping out of his control.
Virgil took Scott's arm and positioned it so that he could slip his own arm under it.
"Sure. Nothing to worry about."
It was 9am two days later. The doctor took his stethoscope out of his ears. "You're that fit", he told Virgil, "you shouldn't be lying about in bed. You're lucky."
"Really!" Virgil couldn't believe his ears. "I can get up now?"
"If you like. You could take Scott for a walk if he wants to go."
Scott was out of his bed in a flash. "C'mon Virg. I need the exercise." He plucked at Virgil's sleeve.
"Oh, I don't know." Virgil teased. "I've kinda got used to relaxing all day."
"Virgil!" Scott pulled at his arm. "Come on."
"Okay, if you insist." Virgil chuckled. "Thanks Doc."
"Just take it easy." The doctor reminded him. "No 100 metre sprints."
Five minutes later found them at the hospital entrance. "You know," Virgil said, "I'm tempted to walk out of here and just keep going."
"Only as long as you took me with you." Scott told him. "I would hate to be left here all alone."
Virgil shrugged his shoulder, getting used to the weight of the cast. "Well... Where do you want to go?"
"How about circumnavigating the grounds. There's some flower gardens I want you to describe to me. They smell wonderful."
Virgil smiled. It had been a long time since Scott Tracy had taken any interest in flowers. "Did Nurse Stone take you there?"
Scott's mood darkened. "Yeah. She said they 'stimulated the senses'." He did a mocking imitation of her voice. "How stupid."
"And did they?"
"Did they what?"
"'Stimulate the senses.'"
"Are you kidding?"
"No. You've already said that they smelt good. Did you hear anything? Did you touch anything...?"
"Did I taste anything? You're beginning to sound like her!"
They'd reached the corner of the building and rounded it. To their left was the 12-storey hospital. To their right an eight-foot concrete block wall.
Virgil continued his theme. "Is that a bad thing? She was only trying to help. Why don't you like..."
"Can you smell something?" Scott asked.
"What? There's no flowers here." They'd stopped walking.
"No. Not flowers. Gas."
"Gas?" Virgil looked around and then his eyes widened. "Wait here." He ordered and before Scott could respond, he was gone.
He was slightly breathless when he returned. "It's one of the maintenance engineers. A gas canister's fallen on him, across his chest. He's unconscious. I've turned off the valve - stopped the gas. Do you think you could lift the canister while I pull him out?"
"If you think I can, I can."
The gas bay was in a little alcove, which effectively cut it off from view at the front of the hospital.
Virgil surveyed the scene quickly. "The door to the gas bay's locked. He's lying on the left side, so I'll have to pull him out that way. There's still plenty of gas about so we'll have to hold our breaths. I'll get you into position and you start lifting. As soon as we're clear I'll let you know and you'll have to follow us. Can you do that?"
Scott took a deep breath. Partly to get a good lungful of clean air, and partly to steady his nerves. "I can do it." He said positively. He looped the handle of his cane about his arm so he wouldn't lose it.
"Good." Virgil took a couple of deep breaths himself. "Lets go."
It was the fastest Scott had moved under his own power, since his accident. He put his faith in Virgil not to let him trip over anything. They stopped and Virgil placed Scott's hand on the canister. Feeling around it Scott bent his knees, got a grip and started straightening his legs.
Virgil managed to lift the man's upper torso slightly and wrapped his good arm under the older mans arm and around his chest. He then pulled backwards. To his great relief the man slid out easily.
Lungs bursting Scott listened to the scraping sound. When he thought they were clear he lowered the canister again. Then he had the problem of finding his way out of the dangerous gas pocket.
"Over here, Scott." He heard Virgil call in an expulsion of air. "Follow my voice."
Scott turned to the left and moved forward, tapping his cane in front of him. He desperately needed to take another breath, but wasn't sure if it would be safe. His cane met with the wall of the hospital and he put his right hand out to touch it. From there it was a relatively simple matter to follow the wall with his right hand while his left used the cane to check for obstacles.
"He's not breathing!" There was urgency in Virgil's voice. "I'm going to have to start C.P.R!"
Scott released his breath hoping he was far enough away from the gas to be safe. On his first intake of air he realised it air smelt relatively clear.
Virgil was struggling with only being able to use one arm. "I can't get the airway open enough." He tried a couple of breaths, but was barely able to get the engineers chest to move. He looked at Scott who was now parallel with them. "Can you manage C.P.R?"
"With my eyes shut." Scott assured him.
"Good!" Virgil attempted one more, ineffectual breath and then stood up quickly to get Scott. The world spun slightly. "Whoa! Oxygen depletion."
"You okay?" Scott asked in concern.
"Yeah, fine. This guy isn't though." Virgil led Scott to their patient and showed him where to kneel. He then went to the opposite side of the victim so he could keep an eye on things and keep out of Scott's way.
Scott quickly exhaled two breaths into the man's lungs and looked down the unconscious man's body. If he could have used his eyes he would have been watching for the rise and fall of the chest. Instead he felt the expulsion of air on his cheek.
"It's working." Virgil said excitedly.
Two more breaths and Scott felt for a pulse. "I'm not getting anything!" He reached down to the man's chest, felt up the rib line to the sternum and placed his hands in position. The fifteen compressions were punctuated by an all to familiar, unpleasant sound.
"There go the ribs." Virgil noted.
Two more breaths and then back to the chest compression. Scott was getting into the routine.
Virgil decided that it was time to try and get some assistance. He stood again. "Help! Is anyone there?" he yelled.
A bird flew off with a rustle of feathers, but the only other sound was of the life-giving C.P.R. and a distant hum of traffic.
Virgil tried yelling again, but to no avail.
"I'm going to have to go and get help." Virgil knelt on one knee and placed a hand on Scott's shoulder. "You going to be okay?"
Scott was back into the chest compressions. "Go!" he said tersely.
Virgil went. He sprinted to the front of the hospital and then around the corner. His cast was banging uncomfortably against his rib cage, but he ignored it. As he ran towards the entrance he noticed an ambulance pulled up outside. The paramedics were standing around talking.
"Hey!" Virgil tried to yell, but they didn't hear him.
He barrelled up to them and they looked at him as if he'd just arrived from another planet. His robe hung open, his sling had slipped, he was perspiring and panting for breath.
"Need help!" Virgil gasped. A week of illness and inactivity had taken its toll. "Gas leak. Unconscious. No pulse. Not breathing."
"Where?" One of the paramedics grabbed a kit from the back of the ambulance. Another reached in for a stretcher.
Without wasting breath Virgil set off on the return journey. The paramedics followed closely until they rounded the corner and saw Scott hard at work. They took off at a run to assist.
"Thanks pal." One of them said to Scott. "We'll take over now."
Virgil arrived. The short sprint had absolutely exhausted him. "Come on Scott." He placed his hand on Scott's shoulder. "Let's get out of their way."
Scott stood and let Virgil lead him back a few steps. A paramedic moved in to take his place.
Scott noticed that Virgil was leaning on him. "Are you alright?"
"Just a bit shaky. Didn't the Doctor say something about not doing 100 metre sprints? Now I know why."
"Come on. Where's the wall. Let's get you sitting down."
Once he was seated with the wall for support Virgil felt better. He started describing what was going on to Scott.
"...They've got an oxygen mask on Joe..."
"Joe?"
"That was the name on his overalls. Hang on someone's coming over."
A paramedic walked over to them and crouched down in front. "Are you two okay?" he asked solicitously.
They nodded.
"My names Stan. What's yours?"
"Scott Tracy and this is my brother Virgil."
"Are you feeling alright Virgil? You were a bit out of breath back there."
"Yeah. I've been confined to bed for a week. I'm just not used to the exercise."
The paramedic studied him. Virgil still looked a bit flushed, but as his breathing had improved he decided to leave it for the moment.
"Can you tell me what happened?"
Scott explained about finding and then rescuing Joe. "Is he going to be okay?"
"We've got a pulse, but he's still having problems breathing. Once we've got him inside the hospital we'll let the experts take over. They'll be able to give us a better idea. What are you two in for?"
"A generator blew up in my face and Virgil broke his arm trying to save me." Scott gave the abbreviated public version of their story.
A command of "Lift" alerted them to the fact that Joe was being transferred to a stretcher. He was soon readied for transportation into the hospital building.
"I think perhaps you'd both better go back to your rooms now. Do you need a hand?" Stan asked.
Scott shook his head and stood, but Virgil extended his arm. "I think I need a hand up." Stan took the proffered hand, pulled and Virgil rose quickly to a standing position. His legs buckled and Stan steadied him. "Do you want me to get you a stretcher?"
Virgil shook his head. "No. I'll be fine. I've just got to get the feeling back into my legs."
"How about a wheelchair?"
Virgil gently flexed his numb extremities. "No. Honestly I'm fine. They're starting to feel better already. If you let go I promise I won't fall over."
Reluctantly Stan released his grip and as promised Virgil remained standing. "Thanks." He said to the paramedic and then turned to his brother. "Are you ready to head back inside Scott?"
"Do you feel up to guiding me?" Underneath the bandages, Scott was getting a worried look that he got when things were slipping out of his control.
Virgil took Scott's arm and positioned it so that he could slip his own arm under it.
"Sure. Nothing to worry about."