Chapter 4
comment: As noted this story follows "The Other Side".
Station 51, KMG 365," Stanley responded smoothly and handed a
sheet to Matt as he moved by him. He found himself back in the middle of the seat as the professional personas slipped into place.
The streets weren't too busy, being a Sunday, but there were
enough cars to keep it interesting for both engine and squad. It seemed that people weren't too concerned slowing for the blaring horns and flashing lights and the squad spun out one time avoiding a car that streaked across an intersection. After that Roy slowed down at each signal not wanting to tempt fate.
Having to be extra cautious meant it took longer to get to the
accident scene. As they pulled up they could see police and good
Samaritans had already pulled victims out and had them lined up on the side waiting for more aid. Roy manuevared the squad near the triage area and soon all three paramedics were busy taking vitals.
"Chet, get those battery cables," Hank called out. "Marco, Mike, get an inch and a half ready just in case!"
"Any other victims?" Itora asked the officer in charge.
"Looks like a doa in the Pinto," he motioned over at a yellow car smashed between two others.
"Guys? One more," he called over to the paramedics Since
he was closest, Johnny handed his vitals to Roy and jogged over to the wrecks. He leaned through the passenger side and checked for a pulse. He was rewarded with a soft groan and a faint beat. Scoping out the interior he could tell the steering wheel and dash would have to be pulled off before he could get the man out.
"CAP!" Itora jogged over.
"Yeah, Gage?" he asked.
"Still alive. Need the jaws, backboard and c-collar to start!" Gage relayed tersely. Itora headed back to the triage area. Soon Chet and he returned to the car with the requested equipment. Knowing how to set up for the jaws was easy enough, but not the extraction.
Not that he had a choice!
"Ok, Cap, need some help here!" Johnny said firmly. He talked the
older man through sliding the board in place and helping tie the injured down securely. Then with Chet and a police officer, they gently pulled the victim out of the car and over to triage. Itora found himself performing as a secretary as the paramedic worked furiously to stabilize his patient calling out vitals.
"Rampart, this is squad 51," Gage spoke into the phone. "We
have a fourth victim."
"Go ahead, 51," Joe Early's voice came over the speaker.
"Rampart, patient is unconscious. BP, 100/60, pulse, 75 and
thready, respirations 20. Abdomen is hard. Decreased sounds on the left side. Several ribs on left definitely broken."
"51, start an IV, Ringers, open wide," Early said. "Get mast pants on stat! What's the eta like?"
"Johnny, ambulance is here," Roy called. "Yours has priority."
"Eta 8 minutes once he's loaded," he relayed to Rampart.
"Get me vitals every 5 minutes and get him in here!" the doctor ordered.
"'10-4 rampart."
Now Itora learned how to put on mast pants and then played IV pole. The pants were inflated and after a few moments the victim regained consciousness.
"Hi! I'm John," Gage said as he leaned over his patient. "What's your name?"
"S-steve," the injured man answered.
"Well, Steve, we've got you stable and we're taking you over to Rampart Emergency. The docs will get you all fixed up!" Carefully the man was placed onto the gurney.
Itora followed the gurney to the ambulance. He listened as Johnny explained procedures to his patient in a calm tone.
"Get in first," Gage directed. At the confused look he added, "You want to see how the paramedics fit in? Come along and see the other end!" Itora did as he was told and crawled in. He saw the paramedic wave at Stanley and then the doors were slammed shut.
"So, Steve, anything I need to know about you before the doctors
take over?" Johnny asked as he pumped the bp cuff.
"I... don't think so," the man answered. "No medical problems. Could you call... my wife? She, she's waiting for me."
"Of course! Just tell Cap the phone number we can reach her at," he directed. Steve managed to rattle off a phone number as he reached out for the paramedic's hand. Gage obliged him and held on as he called in the new set of vitals.
Soon Itora felt the ambulance slow down and back up. Doors were opened and he found himself hurrying down the hospital hallway into an exam room. He watched the paramedic thread the IV on a pole as Steve was moved onto the exam table. He directed Itora to read the last set of vitals to a grey-haired doctor.
As Matt before him, Cap was very impressed at how well the paramedic blended in with the hospital staff. As more personnel arrived Gage simply talked quietly with the patient until the doctor took over.
"I'll have the nurse call your wife, Steve," Johnny said.
"Sure, I'll call," Carole jumped in. "I'll be able to answer questions for her." Steve smiled his thanks and went back to listening to the doctor. Then Itora was carefully swept out of the room, gave the phone number to the nurse and followed John to the nurse's station.
An hour later Itora was seated once more at the table next to Matt. Dinner was in the oven and the two paramedics were tidying up a bit. The rest of the crew was watching the early news.
"eh, I thought you were a little mento, when you told us about the ER yesterday," Itora was telling Matt. "Then Gage made me bag and it was aurite!"
"Oh, no, there's that lip moving thing again and sounds that make no sense!" Johnny said as he straddled a chair next to Itora. Matt snickered.
"Caught someone earlier talkin' pidgin?" he asked.
"Yups," Johnny answered with a grin which caused another round of light laughter.
"You know, Junior told me you guys had your own language over on the islands," Roy said as he chose a more conventional way of utilizing a chair. "I thought it was kind of like our slang."
"It is in a way," Itora said. "But in another it's a whole language. The fire department had to set regulations about the language we use on the job. We have so many tourists to the islands we have to use standard English."
"I told him we needed a translator," Gage pretended to be serious. "Preferably a sweet wahine."
"Somebody is picking up the language just fine," Matt laughed louder.
"Squad 51, unknown type rescue. 5801 Wilshire Blvd. Cross street, Curson Avenue. Time out, 6:10," tones then dispatch detailed.
"Squad 51, KMG 365," Hank said smoothly then handed the slip over to Roy.
"Man, even though it's Sunday the traffic's gonna be a
nightmare!" Gage groaned.
"Not to mention 'unknown'," Roy said. "Usually they'd send a whole station out." Turning out onto the street the little red squad began its wail. At first it was easy going, but as they neared the area traffic slowed to a crawl. DeSoto was hard pressed to maneuver around different clumps of traffic using the oncoming lanes more than the right side.
As they neared the art museum complex Roy suddenly glanced over at Johnny.
"Uh, I think we're heading for the La Brea Tar Pits," he hesitated.
"The tar pits?" Johnny rolled his eyes. "I sure hope it's something simple like a heart attack."
"What are the tar pits?" Matt asked somewhat confused. Roy swung the squad around the corner and saw a woman in an orange vest jumping up and down and waving them onto a side road."
"You'll see," he was answered cryptically. He rolled down his window.
"Back at pit 91," she panted. "There'll be a couple others dressed like me to show you the way. The director gave you permission to drive as close as possible." With a nod Roy turned the squad and headed through the center of the park.
Dead ahead Matt saw a dark lake⦠with a mammoth in it? The Hawaiian gaped as they passed the fenced-in area. To the right was a semi-pyramid structure with a flat top. They traveled along the right side of the lake then further back following a cement walkway. They met two more orange-jacketed people who sent them on their way.
Finally Roy brought the squad to a stop near a low building that was also fenced in. At an open gate stood a worried-looking man in a suit and tie.
"Thank goodness you've made it!" he said as they pulled equipment out of the compartments. "One of the diggers slipped on the catwalk and fell. He's hit his head and I think he's broken his leg as well. We didn't move 'em but we have to hurry since he's in the pit.
They hurried through to the back of the building and saw a large square pit. The sides were shored up with wood and metal. It looked to be at least 20 feet deep and there were ladders down to the floor. Half-lying in a dark pool of watery tar, half-lying on a plank, was the victim.
Johnny was down the ladder in a flash carrying the drug box. He scoped out the best way to reach the victim. No matter which way he could take he would be getting sticky, black tar on him. Carefully he eased himself down on the plank that bisected the pit. Roy set his gear down and moved down a parallel plank.
"Matt, we'll need the backboard and c-collar," he directed. These items were quickly located and lowered down, along with the stokes, to the bottom. Matt eased his way down the ladder and dragged them over to the edge.
"Got a pulse," Gage began. "About 120, thready. Respirations 20. Left leg definitely broken." Matt was writing down the information.
"Large swelling on the lower back of the skull. Blood present in the right ear," Roy added. "Get on the phone and inform Rampart." As Matt began making the connections the two paramedics below began to decide exactly how to move the patient.
"I'd hate to roll him," DeSoto said.
"Yeah," Gage agreed. "We'll have to slide the board under him and pull him straight up. We can get him onto the platform and then lift all of it into the stokes."
"Roy, Rampart wants to know about spinal injuries," Matt called over to them.
"Tell them we're worried about that and are going to keep him on his stomach and not roll him," the senior paramedic responded. "His spine feels ok, but given the fall and the position I don't want to chance it."
The board and c-collar was handed over and very gingerly the two paramedics slipped it under the limp body. Everything was tied down securely. Finally they stood up on their respective planks and lifted the board up. The man was soon on the cement platform.
"We're really filthy," Gage said to Matt. "You're going to have to start IV and take the blood pressure. We'll see about getting some of this stuff off our hands at least." As the doctor's orders were being carried out the director had the other two come up the ladder and wash up at the industrial sink topside.
Finishing first, Roy returned to the patient. They carefully secured him in the stokes. Matt went up and helped the workers pull the injured man up.
"I'll ride in," Gage offered as the ambulance attendants pulled the gurney over.
"Good idea," Roy said. "Get Brackett to check out your cut and clean it if necessary."
"Yes, da-ad," he replied with a huff.
Fortunately the ride in was smooth and without incident. Roy had cautioned the attendants about possible spinal injuries so the driver took extra care.
Morton wrinkled up his nose when he saw Johnny.
"For heaven sakes! What were you doing, rolling in the mud?" he grumbled as he started looking over the patient. Both Brackett and Early came into the exam room.
"What are the latest vitals?" Kel demanded as he began to gently run his hands over the man's spine. A Johnny rattled them off Mike continued to give him disgusted glances.
"Let's get x-ray in here," Kel determined.
"I agree," Joe added. "I need to see exactly what I'm going to be dealing with."
"Has he regained consciousness at all?" Kel neatly followed.
"No, although he does respond slightly when spoken to in his left ear." Early leaned over and after a gentle, 'hey, you all right?' he was rewarded with a groan.
"Carole, monitor his vitals and get x-ray in here," Morton repeated Kel's orders. "Spine, skull, ribs and leg." She nodded as she headed for the phone. "And for god's sake, Gage, get your filthy body out of here!" The other two doctors turned to look at their younger colleague.
"You know, Mike, you seem to be riding John a little more than usual the past couple months," Joe pointed out.
"No, I haven't," Morton retorted. "He's always pulled one stunt after another. I mean, have you ever seen anyone come into an exam room this filthy?" The door opened and Roy slid in. If Johnny had been 'filthy', then Roy was worse.
"Hey, Junior, don't forget!" he said.
"Yeah, yeah," Johnny replied then turned to the assembled doctors. "I may need a bandage change. No way to keep out of the tar," he gestured towards his slacks.
"You and Roy go shower," Brackett decided. "Wrap that leg first. Then come find me or Joe." He left Morton off the short list.
45 minutes later found two scrub-clad paramedics driving the third back to the station. Gage lamented he was down to his last two pairs of work slacks. DeSoto added that there was no way to get the oily tar out of them.
The engine was out but a quick check revealed some dinner left warm in the oven. Matt served it up while his partners dressed properly.
"It's barely 8:30 but I'm ready for bed!" Roy said as he sat down to a plate of baked chicken and rice. Green beans were added to the plate.
"Yeah, I kine moe moe, too," Matt agreed. He noted the raised eyebrow and the rolled eyes.
"Ai yah! I mean, I could sleep, too!" he quickly corrected himself.
"It's Ok," Gage grudgingly said. "I just hope Chet Chet doesn't mess with me when I moe moe."
"See? We'll have you acclimatized before you hit the islands!" he grinned.
Another hour passed when the engine finally backed into the apparatus bay. Four tired men climbed out of the cab and headed for the kitchen. There was a fairly fresh pot of coffee on the counter.
"Wonder where the guys are," Marco said as he plopped down at the table. Chet joined him.
"I'll check the dorm," Mike said. He disappeared for a few minutes then returned.
"Asleep, all three of 'em," he reported. Chet looked up with interest.
"Really?" he said with a fresh lilt in his voice.
"Kelly..." the threat hung there, but it wasn't Hank Stanley. He turned to face Itora. The Hawaiian captain's face was downright scary.
"Uh, I think I'll see what's on the news," Chet slunk over to the TV.
"I'm gonna shower," Marco said.
"Next!" Mike called it. The two captains poured out coffee and headed for the ever-present paperwork.
"Lights-out at 11, gentlemen," Hank determined.
