Happy Hump Day! Today's hook is again from my unedited wip, Dating Impossible and from JJ's pov. Here's a little bit of real life medical drama in action. And yes, doctors do cuss in real life. They are human and when shit happens...Hope you enjoy!
“…22 year old male shot in the chest. No breath sounds left upper lobe. BP 86/42. Heart rate 146. Resps 35 per minute…”
On the count of three the patient was moved from stretcher to the waiting hospital gurney. The motion was swift and expertly done, but the patient moaned and shouted cuss words as the jostling incurred more pain. “Take it easy! That fucking hurts, man.”
JJ smoothly stepped to the head of the gurney and began her assessment. “Sorry about that, my friend. But there’s no help for it. Everything we do is going to hurt right now. We will give you pain meds as we can, but you’ve lost a lot of blood and your blood pressure is dangerously low. Can you tell me what happened?”
“Nothing man.” His voice was muffled and a bit tinny through the oxygen face mask he wore. “I was just walking down the street minding my own business,” he said. His tone was defensive mixed with just a bit of smugness that was typical of most gunshot victims.
JJ rolled her eyes. Pretty much the standard answer she’d expected. The truth was he’d been shot by a store clerk trying to steal the money from the cash register. “What’s your name?” As she spoke, she listened to his chest, observed the unequal fall with each short rapid breath he struggled to inhale. Pale skin slick with sweat, the blood stained gauze dressing just under his left nipple peeled up along the corners. She removed it and examined the wound and fired off rapid orders to the team. “Stat chest, full trauma panel including type and cross for four units packed cells and keep two units ahead. Set up for chest tube insertion and call the cardio thoracic surgeon on call.”
Everyone scrambled to do her bidding. All except Angie, who stood leaning against the wall with the Xray viewers, clipboard clasped to her chest. As the head nurse, Angie was supposed to be recording and coordinating JJ’s orders.
“What the fuck, Angie? Get your ass moving. I need that chest tube tray now, not in the next millennium,” JJ said.
At the bite in JJ’s voice, all motion ceased for a fraction of a second. Glances were shared, the only sound coming from the patient himself as he writhed, moaned, and shouted expletives of his own. Angie’s gaze threw fire-sheathed daggers at JJ, but she grudgingly pushed off the wall and did as instructed. The monitor above the gurney screamed and flashed the current vital signs. Blood pressure dropped to 60/29. Heart rate up to 180’s. Oxygen saturation now read 85%. All activity resumed with renewed vigor.
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Keep it real, my friends! Have a Happy Thanksgiving for those who celebrate it!