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Probably a fucking liquor bottle.
The officers on scene were busy trying to control the traffic, since it was a major intersection, and didn’t notice the woman currently harassing me to ‘fix her baby.’
“But that baby is dead. No ‘mount of work gonna be done for her!” The woman yelled.
The young mother sitting on the curb by the ambulance heard, and of course had to come join the party.
“Motherfucker,” I breathed. “Ma’am, you need to go take a seat on the curb over by your daughter. We have more medics en-route. Please go.”
My temper was starting to fray.
“I’m not going anywhere.” She said as she stomped her foot.
Although inadvertent, when she stomped her foot, she kicked a cloud of dust and debris at my face and I snapped.
Moving quickly, I took the woman by the arm and shoved her bodily away before returning to my patient. I saw her fall out of the corner of my eye, but couldn’t scrounge up the urge to care.
The young girl wasn’t dead, but she was severely close, and if we didn’t get the bleeding stopped, she’d bleed out before I could get her to the hospital.
“Morrison!” I bellowed. “Get this woman out of here.”
Morrison, a prospect with my club, obeyed immediately, running from the crime scene tape he was in the process of hanging to the woman who was still blinking stupidly at me for pushing her.
He ignored her and got to work.
“Clear!” Sebastian called from behind me. “Shocking in 3, 2, 1.”
I distinctly heard the automated voice from the AED speaking, but I was focused on my own patient.
Starting an IV and some fluids, I loaded the little girl onto the backboard and carried her to the back of the ambulance.
I loaded the patient onto the gurney and was relieved when I saw Sebastian loading his own patient into the medic right behind me.
We were both working frantically to save our individual patients, and I knew they’d never do it if either of us had to drive; so, making a split-second decision, I called Tunnel Morrison over.
“Morrison, get in the seat and drive!” I bellowed.
Tunnel jumped like he’d been poked in the ass with a cattle prodder, sprinting around the ambulance, closing the doors, and then heading for the driver’s seat.
“Lights and Sirens, code 1. Go!” Sebastian urged.
Morrison went, slamming his foot down on the gas a little too hard, and then taking the corner a little too quickly.
“Slow down, boy! We’ll never get there if you don’t get your nerves under control.” I said soothingly.
“Goddammit. You’re going to have to start an IO. Can’t find a fucking vein anywhere. Motherfucker.”
I cursed.
Sebastian couldn’t legally perform an IO since he was only an intermediate. As I was the acting paramedic, I’d have to perform the procedure. On a tiny baby.
It was hard enough to get an IV on a baby that young, but with as much blood as the infant had lost, while we were on scene, it became almost impossible to accomplish.
An IO was only used on patients that didn’t have any other options.
It looked like a little baby screwdriver that was used to drill through the bone and run fluids straight to the bone marrow. Although it was crude, the technique worked. Even on babies.
Stripping my gloves off and replacing them with new ones, I switched places with Sebastian awkwardly and then got to work.
