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‘Dana,’ Carrie called, turning frantically, ignoring the pain in her neck as they came to a stop in the middle of the road. Her daughter’s eyes fluttered open briefly and then she stuck her thumb in her mouth and stroked her blanky against her cheek. Carrie’s mother had always said Dana could sleep through an explosion.
Carrie felt a surge of relief so intense she almost floated out of the car. Dana was fine. Dana was fine. Her baby was fine. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Carrie felt an overwhelming urge to sink to her knees on the road and kiss the ground. She laid her forehead against the steering-wheel and took some deep calming breaths, the immediate shock giving away to the euphoric feeling of having just dodged a bullet.
It took a few seconds for the doctor in Charlie to respond to the inert form lying on the road, shock blunting his reactions. He opened his door, knowing he had to get to the victim lying on the road. But his eyes flicked to the other car that had come to a standstill in the centre of the road not far from him. The person inside was sitting at the steering-wheel, unmoving. Was this person also injured? Two potential victims.
The golden rule of triage—the most critical first. He looked back at the person on the road. Was he even alive? Could he have survived being flung out of a vehicle at high speed? He doubted it. He ran to the first vehicle and wrenched open the door.
‘Are you OK?’
Carrie startled at the brisk demand coming back from the quagmire of her shock. Her heart was hammering like a runaway train, her hands still gripping the steering-wheel. Was she OK? She’d been too concerned with Dana to notice. Her neck hurt a little.
She blinked at the question. ‘I’m f-fine.’
Charlie gave her a quick visual once-over. She didn’t seem to have any obvious injuries. He nodded. ‘I have to go see to the other driver.’ He indicated with his head.
Carrie nodded, noticing the very still person lying on the road for the first time. ‘Yes,’ she said.
And then the man was gone. She lifted her head, gingerly tested the range of movement of her neck. It was tender when she twisted it to the very limit of its capabilities but otherwise it seemed OK. Probably some minor whiplash. Still, Carrie knew how debilitating such an injury could be. She’d get an X-ray some time tomorrow to be sure.
Charlie popped the boot of his car and pulled out his medical kit, complete with oxygen and suction. In his line of work he needed a fully stocked kit ready to go in his car at a moment’s notice, and tonight he was grateful that he’d decided to irritate his father and drive the Datsun. If he’d been driving the BMW, he’d have been up the creek without a paddle.
He sprinted to the inert form, his heart pounding, his pupils dilating as his brain processed all the possibilities. It was a man. A middle-aged man. Had he fallen asleep at the wheel or had there been a medical emergency like a heart attack or a stroke that had caused him to veer into their path?
Charlie donned a pair of gloves and assessed the man methodically as drilled into him during his student years. D. R. A. B. C. H. Danger. Response. Airway. Breathing. Circulation. Haemorrhage.
The man was unresponsive. Unconscious. His airway was compromised, his gurgling respirations concerning. He was breathing. Just. He had a pulse. But it was rapid and weak.
His face was covered in blood. Charlie looked at the car and noticed the massive hole in the windscreen. The man must have been catapulted out through the glass, sustaining numerous lacerations. A quick head-to-toe check revealed multiple contusions, bilateral fractured tibias and what appeared to be an arterial bleed from the femoral artery if the bright, pulsing blood from the man’s groin was any indication.
Great! He tore the fabric of the man’s jeans, pulled a wad of gauze out of his kit and placed it over the bleeding site, applying firm, even pressure. He needed help. He flipped open his phone and dialed triple zero with one hand and prayed for service in an area that was generally sketchy at best. The nearest ambulance was twenty minutes away.
‘Hey, lady, I could use a hand here,’ he shouted into the stillness of the night while he waited for the operator.
Carrie jumped, snapped out of her daze by the urgency of his voice. Of course. She was a doctor, for goodness’ sake. But the thought of getting out of the car, of assisting the stranger, paralysed her with fear. The familiar dread descended on her and her heart was hammering madly again. He didn’t know what he was asking. And anyway…she couldn’t leave Dana.
Carrie watched him working as he spoke into the phone as if she was watching it on a television screen. Like it wasn’t really happening. He obviously had a medical background. He was calm and capable, with a huge boxful of medical supplies at his side.
