Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Winter (11/14/05)
-
TITLE: Covered | Previous Challenge Entry
By Alana Wellington
11/18/05 -
LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE
SEND A PRIVATE COMMENT
ADD TO MY FAVORITES
“Anyone looking for a baby?”
“Have a couple men on it,” a policeman said.
I took in the broken windows and deployed airbag. The woman in the driver’s seat hung very still.
My partner Gary came over my radio: “Eighty-six to crew.”
I unclipped it. “Go ahead.”
“Head wound patient is stable. The other two are refusing. Need anything?”
“Driver’s door is coming off now. Let you know in a sec.”
“Ten-four.”
Glass crunched under my boots when I stood. I picked up the collar and plastic backboard, and walked to the other side.
“Can you help me?” I asked a firefighter.
“Sure. Just tell me what you want.”
“I’m going to support her neck. I need—” I turned to another man. “Lieutenant! Can you give a hand?”
He hurried over.
“You support her trunk; you, her legs.”
“Want me to cut the seatbelt?” the lieutenant asked.
“Yes. Careful now.”
“I think she’s pregnant.”
“Okay, let’s get her down.”
By the time I had her backboarded and on oxygen, Gary joined us.
“Other ambulance’s here,” he said.
“She’s pregnant.”
He lowered the rails of the yellow litter, as I relayed her vitals and my assessment findings.
“We need to keep the backboard tilted to the left,” he said.
Four firemen helped us move her to the stretcher. I shouldered our bag and grabbed the end of the litter.
While my partner slid her into the back of our rig, a policeman jogged over.
“Here’s her purse. Her name’s Nora.”
“Thanks.” I climbed into the back and turned up the temperature.
“Zoë, set up two macros,” Gary said, taking the leads out of the heart monitor case.
I took two thousand-liter bags of saline out of the warmer.
A firefighter got into the driver’s seat and said, “Let me know when you’re ready to go.”
“Give me a minute,” Gary replied. After he had the IV’s running, we left the scene. “Easy on the sirens,” he told the driver.
“Nora,” I said, tapping her chest. I took her hand. “Nora, squeeze my hand.”
“I don’t think the baby’s going to make it, Zee.”
“Nora! Talk to me.”
She mumbled.
“Squeeze my hand. Good! Open your eyes. Open your eyes, Nora.”
“Hey, look at those pretty blues,” Gary said. “Do you know where you are?”
Her eyes widened, and she struggled to sit up. He put a hand on her shoulder.
“Calm down. It’s okay. Do you remember what happened?”
She began to cry and mumble. I lifted the oxygen mask.
“My baby, my baby,” she said.
“Are you having contractions?” I asked.
“No, my little girl. She’s three.”
“Was she with you?” Gary asked.
“Yes!”
Gary’s brows creased as he looked at me.
“I’m on it,” I said, picking up the receiver. “Eighty-six to Comm.”
“Go ahead, eighty-six.”
“Could you radio PD and tell them our patient confirmed that her daughter was in the car?”
“Ten-four.”
“...find her,” Gary was saying to Nora. “I’m going to call the hospital now.” He patted her arm and glanced at the monitor.
We switched seats so he could be close to the radio. As I sat down on the bench, Nora gasped.
“Oh no!” she said.
“Contractions?”
“Yes.”
I caught part of Gary’s report: “...inbound to your facility with a thirty-one—three, one—year old female, involved in an MVA...”
“Deep breaths, Nora. Through your mouth. Good.”
When we walked into the ER, staff members swarmed the litter. Gary began a detailed report while I left for clean linens and more supplies.
As I opened the rear doors of our ambulance, someone called to me.
“Hey, you just brought the mother in, right?”
I turned to see two police officers from the accident. One carried a curly-haired toddler.
“Yeah. Is that her kid?”
“Yeah. Sittin’ under a fire truck. Good thing we found her before they pulled out.”
“Yeah....”
I had just finished restocking our first-in bag when Gary came outside. He grinned.
“They found the kid!”
“I know,” I said. “They—”
Emergency tones blipped from our radios. I jumped down and ran to the driver’s side.
“Comm to eighty-six, respond to Interstate mile marker...”
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be right now. CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.