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Johnny Gage was eating his hamburger as fast as he could stuff each humongous mouthful into his mouth. He was being watched uneasily by the owner of Davey's Hotdog stand.
And Roy, ignoring Johnny completely, was watching the diner owner in very high, almost laughing but silent amusement. DeSoto leaned closer to his partner. "You think he's wondering when you're gonna start choking on that?"
"Huh?" Johnny asked Roy, raining a few bun crumbs and wiping a smear of ketchup off of his chin with a few fingers. He fidgetted a bit, trying to figure out where to clean them off until Roy handed him a napkin from the dispenser sitting on the picnic table in front of them. Then he looked around and pegged whom Roy was talking about. "Oh. Him. Hasn't he ever seen a firefighter eat before? Man, that's rude just staring like that." Gage said with both cheeks stuffed to capacity. He deliberately pushed another hamburger into his mouth, making a face at the owner while doing it.
"Maybe he doesn't know that I'm a paramedic and can fix a choking before it'll even have time to drive away all of his other customers." Roy reasoned.
"Very funny. I'm only hungry. I don't like people staring at me while I eat. And I don't think that's why he's staring at me." he raised his voice. "Whatcha staring at over there? Is there a problem?" he asked loudly at the owner to be heard over the busy afternoon traffic running by them.
The owner of the diner still looked uncomfortable and uneasy and he tried three different ways to fold his arms across his chest trying to look nonchalant. But then his face hardened. "I'm trying to figure out how many burgers you're gonna stuff down that maw of yours before you choke on it."
"See?" Roy shrugged at Johnny.
Johnny made a face back at DeSoto and turned to set the diner owner straight. "Listen, Mac, or whatever your name is." he said swallowing and gulping down half his soda pop. "My partner and I have been coming here for nigh on six years now, giving you our business and hard earned cash. I know better than to draw unwanted attention to folks coming to your stand."
"Oh, really? You mean that big flashy red truck, loud blue shirts, and shiny silver badges winking in the sun, aren't bad enough to attract a little attention?" Mac asked. "I just watched five businessmen walk right on by just now when I know that they usually stop in to get something."
"Now hold on just a dog goned minute here!" Johnny said holding up a finger, his ire rising.
Beep! Beep! Beep! hailed the HT in front of the three. ##Squad 51. Child down. 1450 McKenzie Way. 1450 McKenzie Way. Cross street Reynolds. Time out. 13:09.##
Roy rose, neatly tossing away his empty paper tray and crumpled napkins. "Come on, partner. Save the showdown until later. Do you really want to lose the convenience of having such a cheap food stand located so close to the station?"
Johnny blinked. Twice.
"Thought so." DeSoto said. "I'll let you finish these on the way without telling Cap you ate in the squad." he said grabbing up Johnny's remaining two burgers and his soda into one hand. He answered L.A. with the other. "Squad 51, 10-4. KMG 365."
He had to drag Johnny away from his deadly earnest glare at Mac. Only the nature of the call and the urgent wail of the sirens tempered Johnny into civility as they hurried away.
Gage put on his helmet after taking his food tray from a hand that Roy had hefted up like a waitron, holding it, while he drove the squad one handed, deftly, through the heavy lunchtime rush hour. "I was only trying to prove a point."
"So was he. And I think he would've won that argument. He has you wrapped around his little finger because of the size of your appetite, Johnny." Roy smiled as he sped up a little faster.
"Says who?"
"Me. And most likely him, if he were here. Watch yourself Johnny. Didn't you see the naval "I love mama" tattoo sticking out from under his sleeve?"
"I was too busy trying to work up an appetite around all that bear grease of his dripping in his hair.." Gage admitted, eating quickly and throwing all of his crumbs and stray bits of meat out the squad window.
"He's trying to look dapper and neat for his customers."
"No one greases their hair back anymore, Roy. No one. Not unless they're sixty years old or something."
"Well, how do you explain Cap then?"
Johnny opened his mouth but nothing came out. Then he shrugged. "Well... Cap's a different guy. That's all. Besides, he looks good slicking his hair back."
Roy did a double take in surprise.
"Well, you know what I mean." Gage said, finally finishing his hasty meal. "Makes me almost wanna do the same thing. I'm getting sick of my hair always blowing in my face while on a rescue."
"Cut it short then." Roy said with finality and a straight face. "Like McConnike keeps warning ya to." he said, turning around a corner automatically, without needing to look at the road.
"I will. I will in time. Don't push me." Gage blubbered. "First things first. I gotta get through my date later this week without making any drastic changes in myself before going on it so she won't get mad."
"I don't think any amount of drastic change will make her think any better of ya." Roy mumbled.
"What?" Gage asked, not hearing Roy over a particularly loud crescendo of the code three sirens.
"I said we're about to make fantasic time here. Five miles in two minutes? That's gotta be a squad record." Roy said.
"Must be. Here we are. There! Over there... There's a mother running out to meet us." Johnny pointed.
Roy pulled the squad over as quickly as he could along the curb of the affluent surburban neighborhood home and was surprised to find a police officer already on scene. Fearing the worst, the two paramedics dragged out all the medical gear, including the resuscitator and the defibrillator while the frantic mom gave her very panicky story.
She said.....
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From: Cassidy Meyers (R.N., navy)
"Hurry! Please! It's my son! He can't breathe!" Then, in sheer anger on top of the fear, she stabbed a finger towards the curb angled squad car and a black uniformed L.A. cop sitting inside of it, speaking quickly on his radio. "He had the nerve to say that I was panicking my own kid and...and..and then his partner just....locked me out of my own house!" yelled the young mother as she struggled in Johnny's arms, in just that kind of high panicky state herself.
"Easy, ma'am. Calm down a little. I'm sure there was a very good reason for what he did." Gage disassembled, pulling off his helmet. He took advantage of a person's natural instinct to take whatever's handed to them and shoved it into the mother's palms. "Here. Hold this while we carry our medical gear."
The trick, worked like a charm, and Johnny was free to rush things along.
At the same moment, Vince's partner jogged up from his squad car and retook possession of the mother's flailing arms when she threw Johnny's helmet angrily into the rescue squad to get rid of it. "Sorry, boys." said Nate. "I had to call another squad car to look after the rest of this mother's children. She's beyond listening as you can see, and yes, I have the whole story. Vince recognized the child's problem immediately. It's not a choking in the slightest and she says.." he said throwing a chin down at the mother.." he's got a history of high fever along with severe swallowing trouble. Mom said that he wasn't eating at all or playing with anything in his mouth when his trouble began. So far, the kid's still managing to breathe. Barely. Vince is holding him sitting straight up. And that's the only thing that keeps him breathing at all. He's calm, only if she's not within eye or ear shot. The mother's agitation seemed to make him worse."
"How old?" Roy asked as he hurried in picking up the resuscitator case and I.V. and drug boxes. Johnny snatched out the EKG monitor and defibrillator and rushed on ahead to the shut front door.
"Five years or so." replied Nate the officer, grunting as he got a better hold on mom. "Ma'am. I'll give you another minute to start settling down!"
"He's four and a half! Let me go!!" fought the mother. "You can't keep me away from my baby like this! I'm his mother, you horrible men! My husband Alan's a lawyer! He'll have your badges for this!!" and she let out a heartrending, blood curdling scream that brought looks of surprise and suspicion on the part of all the onlooking neighbors gathering on the sidewalk. A few even started to get angry on behalf of the mom. Nate immediately changed their minds on interfering, with a warning touch to his gun holster. The mother even tried to bite Nate. He stopped it, of course, giving the mom every chance to get a hold of some of her stupider emotions.
Johnny nodded firmly. "Keep her out here until we've checked him out. Ma'am, can we treat him?" he shouted over her cries.
"Why the h*ll do you think I called for help in the first place?! Idiot!"
"Hey!" Nate told her sharply. "Enough of that. Keep your voice down or I'll arrest you right now for disobeying a police officer and interfering with a medical call."
It was the wrong thing to say. That set the mother off the deep end verbally and she began a litany of trucker talk that would put the most veteran fireman and police officer to shame.
Gage ignored them both and Roy and he went pelting up the sidewalk, fully laden, until they reached the porch. They set down their gear and Johnny reached up to knock to be let in, but then thought better of it, thinking of the child's explained presentation. For a few seconds, Roy and he were at a loss on how to get to him, after they tried to push on the expensive brass handle and the door didn't open.
Just then, the calm, soothing baritone of Vince Howard came through the open screen. "Push the doorbell like button to the left. It's an electronic lock. Stay quiet as you can. He does a bit better that way. Ditch your badges. Mine only scared him.." Then they heard a strange comment. "Got the suitcases mommy wanted for Mikey and me?"
DeSoto, not yet knowing what the problem was that Vince had spotted, went along. "Yes, the red, white and black ones. We'll bring them in to you.."
From inside the house, the two paramedics started to make out high pitched squeals and sounds of very tired attempts to breathe by the little boy. Roy hit the button and the massive carved door buzzed open a crack.
Gage angled a head, listening to the window as he unpinned his fire badge and put it into a pocket. "No coughing. This definitely isn't croup, Roy. No seal's bark at all. Drug related? I'm smelling crack cocaine smoke." he wondered as he watched Roy take off his helmet to leave on the railing.
"That may be her doing but not his. Not if he's sitting up." Then the nature of the child's emergency, dawned on Roy the second he noted the way the boy had arranged himself in Vince's arms. The child appeared very toxic with flushed skin, leaning forward with his mouth open and chin extended in an effort to maintain his airway and he was drooling long unswallowed strings of saliva onto the lush carpeting over his limp, elbow tripoded knees.
"Epiglottitis.." Johnny said softly to DeSoto, even as he smiled in an act for the wide eyed, glassy fright barely held at bay by the child. "I'll just set our luggage behind the couch here, Roy." he said a little louder and very feigned friendly.
"Okay, Johnny. Then let's meet Mikey here because mommy invited us in to meet him." he explained to the child.
Vince held very still, holding the boy's forehead and chin in his hands. "It is what I figured?"
"Classic." DeSoto agreed. "You were definitely right to get mom busy with the mail outside. Any commotion could have definitely set off a laryngospasm." then he grinned artificially, keeping just as subdued and calm as a reader in a library. "Hi there, Mikey. I'm Roy. Can I feel your skin to see how your fever is before we play with you?" he asked. "Mommy said you weren't feeling well today.."
The boy's eyes darted everywhere despite his body being totally drenched and exhausted from his work of breathing. But Mikey didn't flinch and only blinked when Roy gently looked at his face for the quality of capillary refill and the extent of cyanosis in the boy's gums through his gaping mouth. Those tissues were still pink but his tongue was turning liver purple with every fast exhalation.
::There's the oropharyngeal edema effects compromising his trachea.:: DeSoto thought. "Johnny, almost got our suitcases unpacked over there?" he asked Gage quietly. "I'm ready to play."
Gage looked up from behind the couch. "Almost. Got some new toys out that we brought with us." he said for Mikey's benefit. "Here's the blow up football for Mikey." he said walking over and handing Roy a disassembled pediatric ambu bag. Mikey allowed it to be placed in his lap. While he was distracted with that, Johnny placed a laryngoscope, endotracheal tube, the rest of the ambu's mask portion and a syringed paralytic agent behind Roy's back, where the boy couldn't see them. He slid them over until they touched the bottoms of Roy's kneeling feet so that he knew they were ready in case the child obstructed suddenly at a loud sound they couldn't prevent fast enough.
"Wow, we sure brought you a nice football, Mikey. Look at that, it's green." Roy said, pointing to the ambu bag in the child's lap. "I'll let you play with it first." he said, connecting a running tube of oxygen to it so the flow leaked richly around them through its open tubed end.
The child watched but didn't try to pick up the ambu. He was too weak physically to grasp it even though his eyes were fully anxious on the edge of terror. Vince had to hold the inflatable between the boy's hands for him so the oxygen stream coming from it could reach the boy's face.
Glancing over, DeSoto saw Johnny choose to pick up the lamp table's phone and not the squad biophone line in order to raise Rampart for the call in another clever way to keep their patient calm until they got their treat and move orders. He was still staying behind the couch, getting the defibrillator open and a needle cricothyroidotomy setup the proper size, out of the boy's line of sight.
Gage hailed the base station on landline. "Operator, this is a Los Angeles County Fire Department Rescue Squad. I'm Fireman John Gage. I need an immediate patch to Rampart General Hospital's Emergency Department in Torrance about a sick child ASAP........Yes, I can give you the proper number." And he did.
Roy, in the mean time, managed to get a wrist pulse and the child's belt off for breathing ease. He wrote the rate down on a piece of paper.
Vince, started talking. "So how do you like my two friends, Mikey? I told you they would bring you some toys you haven't seen before."
Mikey didn't smile. But his painful, rasping stridor didn't get any worse. Then he tried to say something. Roy quickly shushed him with a finger to his own smiling lips so the child wouldn't cough and obstruct.
Vince bit his lip realizing what he had almost done. "Sorry." he mouthed silently. He concentrated on seeing through the lacy curtains of the living room window and noticed that Nate had finally had enough of being Mr. Nice Guy. The mother was getting handcuffed against the rescue squad while the newly arrived backup police unit kept the now just curious neighbors under a careful watch.
Howard's eyes drifted towards the crack pipe that he had found ignited on a plate across the room. It had snuffed out nicely under the overturned clear Cheerios bowl that he had dumped out to use to smother it to rid the air of its taint. The cereal had been dried out and sitting in days old soured milk. ::The boy hasn't eaten obviously. He'll get a meal in a couple of days in intensive care.:: thought Vince. ::That's if he makes it that long.::
Gage thought of victim counts and he looked up at Vince, waving a few fingers to get his attention. "Where are Mikey's siblings?" he mouthed.
"In the bedroom. They're sniffly, but not like Mikey. I turned on Seasame Street for them." Howard replied.
Johnny nodded and got right back to his phone call as Dr. Brackett gave him his initial instructions. ##Securing an airway is the overriding priority, 51. Obtaining vital signs or any other diagnostic procedures are to be considered completely secondary to that primary concern. Physical examination should be kept at a minimum with careful attention so as not to increase the child's anxiety. Skip placing your EKG leads. It may cause him to cry and obstruct. If you can, leave him in his mother's arms, it'll keep him calm.##
"Uh, that won't be possible, doc. She's currently a crack addict going off the deep end." Johnny told him when he caught onto Vince's subtle point to the tabletop and as his eyes alighted onto the pipe. "But he does tolerate Roy and a police officer so far. Rampart, would you call us a second ambulance for the mother through dispatch for us?"
Kel Brackett nodded at Dixie and the trim nurse took the note he scribbled down. ##It's done, 51. Are you able to get ahead of his oral cyanosis? I know you told me that he's still conscious and attempting his own ventilations.##
"Somewhat." Johnny replied, seeing Vince trying to entice Mikey to keep the "football" nearer to his mouth and nose. "However, his acute stridor is continuous with intercostal retractions. There is very abundant drooling, but only moderate perioral cyanosis."
##Ok. Do not attempt direct visualization of the epiglottis by depressing the tongue, at all, Johnny, unless he blacks out or he'll tighten up fast. We'll assume that you've pegged the correct diagnosis until it's ruled out. This situation's far too volatile for us to add paramedic/doctor frills. Perform a nasotracheal intubation under controlled conditions, if necessary, with the patient seated absolutely upright during the procedure to avoid him sealing off until it's in place. Only attempt orotracheal intubation or a needle crich in a complete obstructive emergent situation. I've assembled the necessary personnel on my end, including an anesthesiologist on standby and an endoscopist in the event of a difficult intubation. Expect a frank respiratory failure at any time, Johnny. Keep him warm, oxygenated,.. and get in here as soon as possible. We'll worry about the I.V. after we've guaranteed his airway. Transport non code R and cushion him from all jars or bumps. Let me know about the mother as soon as you get her lined up in the second ambulance.##
"Uh, doc. One more thing. The police say there's a few more kids who are sick here, but not as bad. Want them to ship with me?" Gage asked. "Or will that be too much of an exposure risk for the boy from his infectious condition and their potential ability to startle him?"
##Put them with the mother. Hopefully they'll calm her down enough for all of them to tolerate a transport. I'll check them out after the boy's stabilized. Is the mother still combative?##
"Verbally. But she's now restrained." Johnny replied when Vince crossed his wrists together in a gesture to let him know the lay of things with her. "I suspect our ETA is..... as soon as we get everything and everyone packaged up and we get over to you. We're about four miles out."
##Bring the boy in first. No delays. Have Roy bring in the mother and siblings at his own pace as needed. We'll be standing by.##
Johnny and Roy soon reversed their luggage ruse and an afghan soon snuggled around the boy in Vince's arms. He was hugging the ambu "football" tightly in his fright, but it was near his face. Roy helped the boy keep his chin up with a soft firm grip, as the two men slowly walked outside the house into the sunlight. Soon, Mikey was seated safely in a quiet Mayfair with Johnny and Vince. Roy gave the mother a quick once over where she was handcuffed to a stretcher and soon, he recruited the remaining cruiser officers to round up the other kids to go along with them.
"How's Mikey? Don't you take him away from me! The State tried that once, but I won him back, fair and square.." she challenged. "You just wait, we'll all be back together before the sun goes down." she told Roy.
"I highly doubt that, ma'am. You see, we found some incriminating evidence in the house, and signs of child neglect in some rotten food that you left sitting out." DeSoto told her as an officer sat down on the treatment bench next to him. The female officer smiled and held up the crack pipe evidence bag she had gathered. The frantic, agitated mother, for all of her earlier noise, fell completely silent for the rest of the trip to the hospital.
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Dixie met Johnny at the outer doors of Emergency. "Treatment One." she told him, as Johnny and Vince walked in with the completely head covered and blanketed boy in their arms. The filled ambu bag and drape were being used to make an incubator around him.
Just as they rounded the corner by the x-ray machine, the boy's stridor ceased abruptly.
Gage and Vince, began to run with their burden.
Dr. Brackett saw them coming and he said......
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From: Sam Iam (911 operator)
"In here!" Kel motioned for them, holding the door. "How long ago?" he asked about the change with the child's lack of effective breathing effort.
Johnny set the small limp boy down on the almost perpendicularly head raised bed in the brightly lit treatment room that contained an anesthetist and he tipped back his tiny head gingerly. "Just now, as we were coming around the corner."
"Help him on that ambu. Long slow ventilations, Johnny. We'll be set in a moment. Let us know about his responsiveness level while you're doing it." Dr. Brackett told him as Dixie and another nurse quickly set up a tray of specialized intubation equipment for both him and the anesthetist that they had called to come to Emergency. He nodded to Vince, smiling his thanks, when the police officer switched the boy's oxygen tubing from the squad's portable D tank, to a flowing port on the wall. "Vince, that's right. Set him at fifteen liters. Johnny? Are they working?"
Gage sighed, feeling how the bag sent very careful breaths into the boy as Dixie cut open the child's shirt so he could see chest movements. "They're going in well enough, doc. Mikey!..Mikey.. Open your eyes!" he shouted. "Can you do that for me? Mommy's right outside waiting for ya!" He tested the boy with a pinch to the back of his upper arm behind the elbow. The child pulled away a bit in a normal reflex. Gage shared what he had found with the doctors. "He feels pain somewhat. He's not responding to verbal. And...he's offering no more attempts to breathe on his own here. He's too tired."
Dr. Brackett spoke up. "Fair enough. Keep maintaining him easy. Everyone, maneuver for a single portable endolateral neck x-ray, before we even try to directly visualize for epiglottitis. If he's positive for it on the film, Bob," Kel told the anesthetist, "..go ahead and anesthetize with your inhalation anesthetic and take a look at the supralaryngeal area using a bronchoscope. My guess is that he'll tolerate us going in nasotracheally with a tube for an intubation before he laryngospasms. His fever's not that bad yet. Dixie, after he's been airway secured, start an intravenous line of normal saline and draw blood for a complete culture for Hemophilus influenzae type b and a CBC.. Also get an antibiotic going once you find out from his chart what his tolerances are. Ceftriaxone, 75-100 mg/kg via his IV every 12-24 hours."
"Right, Kel." answered the frosty haired nurse crispy. She got busy with her own tray set up to await the moment when the boy was guaranteed a good airway.
The x-ray didn't take long. Five lead aprons protected those who had to stay in the room to aid the critically threatened child. Soon, Bob and Kel gathered around the image under flourescent light. "And there it is, Bob. The classic "thumb sign" from Mikey's swollen aryepiglottic folds and arytenoid cartilages showing a partial marked upper airway obstruction. I'll just bet you're gonna see cherry red supraglottic structures, including the epiglottis in a minute, after you tube him."
"No bet." Bob moved immediately to the bed to secure Mikey with an uncuffed endotracheal tube after a squirt of Hurricane spray once Johnny had hyperventilated him on oxygen. Kel nodded for the one orderly in the room to start the boy on mechanical ventilation to free up Gage so he could return to available service.
Kel got a few cultures of the epiglottis and throat from Mikey around the tube using a laryngoscope and he gave them to a nurse to run down to the lab for immediate gram negative staining for the illness organism he knew with almost one hundred percent certainty, that might be making the child sick.
"Let's move him to intensive care, people. Stat." Brackett ordered.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Joe Early had gotten off the phone with Dr. Brackett. He moved to the bed that contained Mikey's mother where he had just given her another vitals check from the quick injection he had given her.
The mother's handcuffs were off, but Vince and his partner stayed in attendance during the whole conversation to assure Joe's safety while she burned off the crack's influence. Joe stayed a few feet away from her while he shared his knowlege. "Your son is out of immediate danger, Mrs. Brown. However, epiglottitis is often a multi-event illness. During the bacteremic phase of the disease, other foci of infection are possible. To give him some rest, his artificial ventilation will be continued and we'll directly visualize his epiglottis on a daily basis until the edema resolves, generally within 24-48 hours. Systemic antibiotics will be given to him for approximately 2 weeks to be sure the infection's completely gone from his bloodstream."
"My boy's on a ventilator?" asked the mother meekily, still bleary eyed from her smoked drug use. The tension in her manner was growing.
"Yes, but... Peri, being breath supported like that isn't hurting him. Respiratory isolation for the first 24 hours of antibiotic treatment, is necessary, so he can recover from whole body exhaustion. His CBC was remarkable for a leukocytosis with a marked left shift and the rapid latex particle agglutination we got from his blood serum was positive for H. influenzae or, HIB."
"Is... that a bad germ?" asked Peri Brown, hugging her other two children nearer to her as they sat on the gurney next to her.
"Only if you're vulnerable, like Mikey was. Epiglottitis caused by HIB has a unique distribution in that it typically occurs among children aged 2-7 years."
"You mean my other children...might get sick like little Mikey?" she gasped.
The nurse near Peri, touched her arm to calm her. Peri took her hand gratefully. "Control measures for invasive H. influenzae type b are very important since asymptomatic carriage in the sinuses of household contacts is quite high. We can stop this illness from spreading in them and in you if you let us."
Joe wore his best white jacket smile. "Chemoprophylaxis with rifampin given once daily for 4 days eradicates H. influenzae in approximately 95% of carriers. We can do nasopharyngeal cultures on all of you before any treatment. But, chemoprophylaxis should be instituted as soon as possible after diagnosis of H. influenzae type b is made. It's unfortunate, that this happened to Mikey. But one day, I believe a vaccine to prevent H. influenzae disease may be developed. But until then, complications associated with epiglottitis including otitis media, adenitis, meningitis, pericarditis, and pneumonia, are bound to occur in your other children." Joe admitted, "..unless we treat everyone with antibiotic therapy now."
"Treat him. And us." she said quickly, growing scared.
Peri began to look frantic, fast, so Joe tempered his lecture by adding more. "The mortality risk for Mikey now is only about one percent because we have him airway secured and ventilation supported. And the risk for the rest of you, now that we know what's going on, is negligible. So relax. Everything's ok."
The oldest boy, Mikey's brother, clinging to his mother to avoid sight of the policeman he knew was arresting his mother, spoke up. "You mean my brother really has quinsy?"
Joe knelt down by the boy with a look of amazement. "Quinsy? My, I haven't heard that term in a long, long time. Hello there." he said, taking the young boy's hand in a handshake. "Yes, Mikey has quinsy, but he's going to be just fine, young man. How did you ever come up with that idea for your brother's breathing illness?"
"I learned it in school. My teacher said that President George Washington died of it when he got real old and she said that he had sounded like a squeaky rabbit when he was in trouble. Like Mikey did before the ambulance people came."
"That was very perceptive of you." said Joe, tickled. He raised significant eyebrows for Vince and Nate to note that the children had been exposed to regular school as a point in Peri, the mother's favor. "Only today, we call what your brother has, as a peritonsillar abscess, or epiglottitis..instead of quinsy."
The child withdrew his hand shyly, still in awe of seeing a real white coated doctor.
Peri began to tear up. "C-can I see my boy, before.... before the social workers come for my kids, doctor?"
"Sure. I'll have a nurse show you the way up to intensive care to sign his admittance papers. Don't worry, Mrs. Brown. Mikey's going to be over this in less than two days, I promise you." Dr. Early said. "The danger to his life, is past."
"I trust you, doctor. I-It's just that, I don't know if I can trust myself anymore. These policemen say that I haven't fed my kids in days because of...." she broke off, rubbing her nose when it started running from her withdrawal symptoms."..my smoking habits.." she cried.
She took the kleenix the nurse gave her and used it.
"We can help you with your crack addiction, too. The narcan I gave you only has a temporary effect holding the drug at bay. It's not too late to make a change, Peri. I can link you up with counselors and doctors who can help you break the habit eventually. Would you like that?" Joe asked.
Peri Brown nodded and started crying. "Oh, please. Yes.."
"Ok. Let's go see Mikey and afterwards, I'll get you admitted. While the police get what information they need out of you, I'll also have Dixie McCall, my head nurse, take your children down to the cafeteria to get some food."
"I can help with that." volunteered Roy eagerly. "I'm..pretty good with kids."
"Thank you, doctor. Mr. DeSoto. I never meant for my life to get so screwed up.." Mikey's mother sobbed. "It just sort of happened that way before I even realized how bad it was going for my kids. " Peri gave them tearful hugs when Dixie suddenly appeared. "Go with the nice nurse and fireman, Davey, Suzy. They'll take real good care of you for a while. Mind everything they say. I'm going to a hospital room upstairs after I see how Mikey's doing so I can be treated, too, for smoking the pipe daddy left behind."
The two older children went quietly out the door without a fuss.
::Hunger's a good behavior modifier.:: thought Joe sadly. But then his thoughts brightened. ::There's hope for this family yet. I'll make sure Vince and Nate know how much this mother tried despite appearances. She shared a lot with me after she came to.::
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From: Patti Keiper (NREMT-B)
The sun made a grand appearance just as the still light brown mud caked and dripping squad squealed up alongside the curb that somebody had painted in festive colors that complemented Johnny's favorite chili dog stand.
Roy hadn't even turned off the ignition when the agitated Mac made a hasty appearance to ward them away from his flaking, pastel painted picnic tables.
"Oh, no. You're not sitting on my seats, guys. Not like that. Not in a million years. I don't have to accept business from any customer who isn't one hundred percent publicly presentable. So get away from here before you get mud all over the place."
Gage smacked Mac against his chest with an expressive hand. "Oh why not? We're following your sign's instructions to the letter. See? We've got shoes. And...we've got shirts. So give us some service. We're hungry again.."
And with that, both paramedics firmly sat down at the nearest picnic table and pulled out a set of laminated menus from behind the ketchup squeeze bottle and the tiny chrome paper napkin holder.
Mac wiped the sweat off of his brow around the foldout paper hat he wore on his head to appease the health department and licked his lips nervously, as several of his regular businessmen customers started giving the two filthy firemen looks of consternation and disgust. "I'm fresh out. I got my eldest boy making a grocery run for more hot dog buns.."
"Fresh out, huh? Then what'didya call those hanging right there off your roof overhang? Hallucinations?" Gage pointed.
A cluster of still freshly sealed bun bags hanging like cotton candy at a carnival, swayed in the bright sunlight, glinting a little.
Mac went ballastic. "Listen guys, let me be a little forward here. You're very bad for business. I mean, you pay good and tip well and all. But you're still bad for business. The plain clothes cops that normally keep kids from stealing the pickles outta my dill barrel disappear everytime you show up because you're so conspicuous and draw too much attention to them while they're undercover working on my case."
Even Roy had to gape at that fact. "You hired a couple of detectives to try and bust school aged pick pockets?"
"Well, yeah." said Mac defensively. "Do you know how much it costs to get a pickle barrel delivered these days? Eighteen dollars a barrel!"
A businessman that the hotdog stand owner hadn't seen arrive at the ordering window, bellowed. "Hey, Mac. Are you gonna chew the fat with those sparkies my whole lunch hour? I want to get my order in before my hair turns gray!"
A couple of young mothers with babies in strollers, who were going to stop for some food from the stand changed their mind when they heard the loud business executive's very audible complaint. They left quickly with more than a little nervousness.
Mac immediately poured more sweat and his agitation grew by tenfold. "Ah, sorry, Ben. I'm coming. I'll be right there." Then he spied the departing moms. "Ladies! Ladies. Do come back. It was just the tiniest of misunderstandings."
But they didn't return.
Mac's anger, barely suppressed, grew and he gasped with barely contained rage as he made his regular's order as fast as he could make it.
The change from a dollar bill he normally got to keep, was taken away and Ben stormed off in a huff of affront.
Mac's glower sharpened and he began to breathe even faster.
Gage and Roy, oblivious to the ruckus they were creating, were deep in their plans for an opulent supper off their menus.
Johnny's hand snapped the air over the top of one of them. "Mac? Uh, say Mac. Looks like you're through there. Can we order now? My partner's famished and so am I, finally. Nothing like a good rescue to build up an appetite."
"What makes you think I'm gonna do anything for--?!" Suddenly, Mac doubled over the counter, grabbing his chest and he started panting for air rapidly.
Roy and Johnny's heads shot up at the sound and they dropped their menus, making a beeline for the small door at the side of the small stand. "Mac? Are you all right?!" Roy asked loudly as they hurried over.
Gage went to Mac and held up his shoulders. "Mac? What's the problem? Is it your chest?" he said, leaning the owner against the window frame while he felt for a wrist pulse. Johnny saw that his breathing was very labored. "Now don't fall over onto the grill here. Roy's coming in to get you and help you outta there asap. Easy.."
"Can't......breathe.."
"I can see that." said Johnny. "Just hold on. Now put your arm over Roy's shoulder and come out with him. Let him do all the work. He can hold your weight and then some."
"Ahh, why can't ...I ......breathe?" panicked Mac.
Gage let go of Mac and met them at the tiny door. The two paramedics sat the pale, sweating hot dog man down at a basket and garbage strewn picnic table.
Johnny looked up at a transfixed secretary at the same table who had stopped chewing her lunch at the sight. "Ma'am. Do me a favor and go to that squad over there. Reach in for a radio lying on the seat. I need my walkie talkie to get some fast help for this man. Can you do that?"
"Uh, sure." she said, wiping her mouth free of mustard self consciously. She slowly rose to go get it, yanking off the napkin that she had tucked in around her neck.
She clattered away on stiletto heels.
Roy and Johnny both crouched over Mac, loosening his clothing and apron from around his waist and neck. One of them took his paper hat off, too.
"Mac,.." asked DeSoto. "Do you have any history of heart trouble? Are you feeling any kind of chest pain right now?"
"Heart trouble?!" startled Mac, still gasping in huge lungfuls. "Is that what's wrong with me? Oh, no...*choke* I'm gonna die..."
Gage placed both hands on Mac's shoulders. "Now, Mac. Mac. Listen to me. We don't know anything yet. That's what we're trying to learn about by taking a look at ya. Just take it easy and try to calm down a little. Getting excited's only gonna make you feel a lot worse when you don't have to."
Mac nodded in resignation, and he began trembling. Especially when he saw that both paramedics were opening up his shirt in preparation for an EKG reading.
"Tell us about what kinds of things you're feeling right now." Gage commanded. "Roy, how about some oxygen?" he asked softly, thinking about possible symptoms.
"Yep. I'll get the biophone, too, among other things." he hinted about a defibrillator and the drug box.
Mac totally missed the interplay. "My... mouth's...all numb. And.. my fingers and toes are tingling.." he admitted, while Johnny took his pulse again at the wrist.
Gage looked up in discovery at that. Then he began smiling, but just to himself, very slightly, and his natural paramedic's guard completely lowered to the ground. "Feels like you're suffocating, huh? Like you're not getting enough air?"
"And how. Please. H- Help me. I'll do anyth-- anything you ask. Just.. don't let me die. I love my life.." pleaded the breathless Mac. "I'm a real healthy man. I don't smoke. I don't drink. My blood pressure's always been good. So's my cholesterol according to my family doctor. I don't even get colds like other folks do." he muttered, panting. "In fact, I don't remember the last time I had even so much as a sniffle."
Gage took a respiration count, and his smile suddenly got bigger. But he quickly suppressed it when Mac looked up at him in distress as he was examined.
Roy returned, setting down their medical equipment just as the bystander came back with their plastic coated, muddy walkie talkie. "Thanks. " he told her as he took it from her hand.
The woman retreated, wiping the slimy mud off her hand with an ample clump of napkins.
Roy crouched down and got out an oxygen mask from the resuscitator. A clear, plastic one on full flow. He started to string it out from the regulator to put on Mac's face, when Johnny's hand stopped his from doing it. DeSoto's face frowned in puzzlement until Johnny starting speaking. "Mac, I think I know what your problem is. I think you're suffering from acute hypocapnia syndrome. Roy, do you concur?" he asked his partner. Then he winked at DeSoto. On the side that Mac couldn't see. ::Go along with this.:: it said.
Roy blinked. Three times. "Uh,...whaa.. ahhhhh...yeah?" he guessed. Then he set aside the HT he had snatched up, back onto the table. Without saying anything, he studied and soon found what Johnny had found on Mac. But there was one tiny little question still floating on the tip of his tongue. "Johnny, why are you doing th---?"
Mac was beside himself. "I need oxygen,..guys. Help me!" he begged in genuine panic. Gage played their sudden ace to the hilt. "Ok, just relax. And let me get this on you here. Roy's gonna get a blood pressure off ya."
Johnny turned the flow on the regulator to twenty five liters a minute, the top aperature, and then he put the mask onto Mac.
Roy's eyes got real big and he bit his lip and he began hiding a smile when he finally put two and two together about what his crazy partner was up to. Narrowing his eyes, he took that BP. But he also put a steadying grip on Mac for the dizziness he knew was going to strike from an overabundance of 02 into Mac's system. "I've got.....132/86."
Johnny did, too, on his other side.
It didn't take long. Mac soon swayed in his seat, feeling faint. "Oh,. This is it.. I'm......dying. Oh, mama. I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you how much I really love you. But I didn't know I was gonna kick the big one today..." he mumbled.
Gage leaned into his ear. "Mac. Mac... Can you still hear me? Is it true you'll do anything if we save your life?"
"Yes... yes! I don't wanna die.. Not yet... I'm sorry if I made you feel unwelcome. I just wanted to stop losing busin---* gasp!*" And his eyes got real big in the precursors of a blackout.
"Anything at all?" Gage plugged, holding the oxygen mask and Mac's shoulders.
"....anything..." whispered the terrified hot dog stand owner.
"How about a whole year's worth of free chili dogs for both me and my partner and the rest of our gang, always delivered...with a smile?" Gage said, dropping the clincher.
Mac nodded yes, and promptly passed out into their arms.
DeSoto and Gage were ready for that and caught him. They lowered him to the paper and french fry strewn pavement and they placed Mac onto his back. Johnny left the oxygen mask on Mac's face and his other hand deftly shut off the flow of gas to it. Moisture from condensation began to steam solidly around the fainted man's nose and mouth.
Roy couldn't hold himself back anymore while he tipped back Mac's head so he could breathe a little better with a patent airway. "Johnny, that was pure evil and completely dirty handed."
"So.... A little humility's good for the soul. Especially a meesly money grubbing hot dog stand owner's. We didn't do this to him. He brought it on all by himself...by being so..." he broke off, searching for the right words to explain what he meant....."so..prejudiced against guys like us and what we do for our daily living. A little hyperventilation faint has never hurt anybody, and you know it. After all, anyone in one is about as far away from incurring ischemic brain damage, as one can possibly get." Then he nudged Roy's shoulder."Just look at what this one eensy weeny little blackout will get us, Roy. Think about it! Finally, firemen will have some place to eat for free like every cop does everywhere else, just because of the nature of the job he holds. Now, that.. is delivering sheer poetic justice for once, wouldn't you agree?"
"At the expense of someone else's pain and suffering?" Roy challenged. But he was starting to grin the precursors of 'I-like-it.' even while he chided his second half firmly.
Johnny was unphased by the berating. "Sure, partner. This didn't hurt Mac one iota. We're still doing our jobs like he asked us to do, Roy. We're still helping him out by the fire department book. This other tactic, it's....well,.....call it a little free attitude adjustment if you will."
"I don't think Mac's the one who actually needs it." Roy mumbled.
Johnny looked up from the pulse he was monitoring on Mac. "Huh?"
"Nothing. You better make sure that Mac here doesn't have something truly wrong with him to cover our butts."
"WAYYy... ahead of you." said, Gage, flipping open the EKG monitor. He stuck on the pads with a flourish and wired Mac in. He flipped on the machine to audible and turned up the volume to the loudest gain so that it would start to work on waking Mac up.
Roy appeased the last of his concern for Mac's well being by studying the rhythm flowing across the screen.
It was entirely unadulterated NSR.
DeSoto grunted. "You got lucky. You weren't wrong this time."
"I'm never wrong."
"Uh huh..." Roy grinned. "Now that you've had your fun? What's next?"
"This..." Gage said, scooping up the paddles just as Mac groaned and awoke as his blood's carbon dioxide levels normalized. He placed them onto Mac's bare chest and held them there after he made sure the machine was completely, uncharged.
Roy bit his lip, fighting to keep a straight face while Gage completed a scheme worthy of the best Chet Kelly could ever possibly dream up.
He looked away and pretended to fiddle with the now turned off oxygen supply so he wouldn't spoil it.
"Mac! Mac!" Johnny shouted as he held the paddles down firmly onto the man's chest. "Can you hear me now?!"
Mac opened his eyes blearily and startled when he saw what Johnny was doing. "Ackhh!" he shouted, shoving them off his chest. "Get those things off of me! I'm fine now." He also pulled the non flowing oxygen mask off of his face and started to struggle to his feet, peeling off the EKG pads eagerly. His face was a mask of sheer embarrassment but now, a little gratitude, mixed in.
"Are you sure?" Gage asked, throwing the paddles back into their case. He genteely helped Mac return to sitting on the picnic table bench.
Mac winced for each tacky sticker he yanked off his chest that pulled out some chest hair.
Yank! "Ow.."
Yank! "Ouch! Yes, d*mn it!"
Roy's back started jiggling as he tried to keep his uncontrollable giggles completely hidden. He decided to occupy himself by putting away all the rescue gear.
Gage started to button the buttons up Mac's shirt again, one by one."You're a very lucky man, Mac, that we decided to have dinner with you. We almost didn't come here because we wanted to shower off so bad."
"Oh, yeah?" grinned Mac sheepishly. He was a completely different man now. "I wanna thank ya fellas. You saved my life. Do you have an address where I can pay the bill?"
Johnny held up his hand in negation and he smiled craftily. "What bill, Mac? We didn't transport you to the hospital in the ambulance. No ride? No bill. That's how it works with all of us paramedic types. "
Mac beamed up at Gage with tears in his eyes. "Gratitude works, too. And I still remember my promise to you both.. I mean, about feeding ya lunches for a year."
Gage demurred. "Aw, Mac. You don't have to do that."
"Yes, I do. A deal's a deal. From a grateful businessman to a fireman, even if he is a little muddy around the edges."
And then Mac stuck out his hand.
Roy stayed in the truck, containing near guffaws. Just barely.
"Ok, I can't argue with you. I promise we won't come everyday, all right?" Johnny told him, taking the palm offered to him in a returning grasp.
"Ok." said Mac, feeling like he had a whole new lease on life. He got up and started to clean up his stand and surrounding picnic tables, with new energy.
Johnny got into the squad and closed the door behind himself with complete and utter satisfaction. "There ends the war, of all wars. I do believe Johnny Gage has declared a truce on that particular hot dog stand."
Roy grinned as his tone belied the further beratement he wanted to deliver. "I still think that little stunt was evil."
"You won't be saying that later on when the whole station's filling up on those wonderful chili dogs every week." Johnny said, lacing contended fingers behind his head.
Roy started up the ignition but then paused as he jerked the squad out of park. "Does this mean that Mac now has to feed every shift? Or just ours?"
Johnny's satisfied smirk fell into one of instant dismay.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: "andacory" (Emergency fan)
The gang was bored.....again.
There had been no calls for six hours since the big mudslide.
And it was looking more and more likely that Roy was going to have to go home for the weekend to spend it with his wife and kids ....and with Sylvia, Roy's mother in law.
Gage was currently bragging about how they had pulled the wool over Mac's eyes to the others, but only Chet Kelly seemed to enjoy the tale thoroughly.
"Just feel lucky that Mac didn't press charges of malfeasance, Johnny." Cap said sharply. "He could've you know. There's a state law that says anyone who suffers unconsciousness has to be evaluated by a physician if at all possible on a paramedic run."
"That's only If, Cap. If...they give you permission. Mac directly refused. All right, ok.. not verbally mind you,.. but he sure pulled off those patches and that oxygen mask fast enough." he chuckled.
Kelly gave him a high five in admiration for carrying off such a gem stunt. Then he said. "I'm gonna go shower fellas."
"Again?" Cap groaned.
"Yeah, why not? I'm still spitting out sand here from between my teeth.." Kelly exclaimed back. "Excuse me while I go freshen up. Geesh.. What a grouch.."
"He's only hungry." Johnny explained to Chet's retreating back. "I think Cap's kinda crazy for not going down to the dog stand for a free weiner."
"I'm not going to go there to eat because it's not right, Gage. Not after you pulled off that kind of thing."
Gage just grinned and spun a quarter into a spin on the table some more, absently humming to himself while he downed milk from a carton.
"I wouldn't celebrate so hard, Johnny. It's always easy to get into trouble when you start to criticize and judge people while treating them with less than the respect you normally would, just because they're a little different than you. So don't begin to view them in such a shallow light, Johnny. You'll only regret it in the long run." Roy said gently.
"Says who? Chet seems none the worse for wear for his pranks. Watch." and he held up two fingers to his mouth so he could deliver a sharp piercing whistle. It was so loud, an echo of it returned to them from out of the vehicle bay. "Hey Kelly! Get back in here. I wanna talk to ya for a minute."
DeSoto just sighed and buried his nose into the stock pages.
Kelly jogged back into the kitchen and barely managed to hide the tools that he had been using to wire up another water can in one of the toilet stalls for Gage to find, into his back pocket. "What now, Gage? I'm a little busy. I wanna get clean.."
"I'm through, Chet. No more wars. Concluding the one between Mac and I, got me to wondering.... about whether or not the two of us, should do the same.."
Chet immediately squinted and angled his head suspiciously. "Roy, did he crack his head working on any of those slide victims earlier today?"
"Nope." DeSoto replied, still reading. "He's injury free, Chet." he yawned. "Today.." he glared back from over a newspage.
"And I'll stay that way. I promise, guys. And that includes not getting any more bruises from unexpected flying water bombs. Chet.." he shot back at Kelly. "So this, I vow. It's over. No rubber chickens, no more short sheeting the bed. No dresses on CPR manikins, or touchy mousetraps....nothing...ever.....again." Gage told Chet mildly with conviction. "Starting......now."
"Well, what about this Phantom thing of ours?" Chet asked, shifting uncomfortably onto his other foot. "I mean, things were just getting good.."
"Didn't you get soaked enough in all that rain earlier on?" Johnny frowned at him.
"Well, yeah. That's different. One's water from a cloud, the other's water from a c---"
Johnny halted the very words out of Chet's lips when he held up his right hand in a native american benediction over the middle of his forehead. "I swear on the grave of my forefathers to never play another prank on Chet Kelly, ever again."
The genuine solemnity of his voice gave chills to the rest of the gang and they all stopped whatever leisure activity they had been partaking in at that particular moment.
Chet just slowly turned around and left the room, affording Johnny a sidelong glance back at him every once in a while.
"It's a start.." Roy said without looking up from his reading.
A few seconds later, Kelly peeked back through the door to look at Johnny suspiciously, who was still holding his prayer summoning hand up in the way of his people with his eyes closed. He spoke again. "You're staying one hundred percent dry from now on, Chet, so you mark my words. Hear it again from me. It's overrrrrrrr.."
The face in the door disappeared.
Peace reigned once more over the warm kitchen....until....
##Station 51. Possible suicide attempt. 6101 Sharon Road. 6101 Sharon Road. Cross street Benedict. Time out 17:55##
The gang dropped everything and ran for the trucks.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The rain, had returned, with strength. It was so dark and the way ahead so obscured, that Johnny had to remark on it. "I sure hope you know where you're going, Roy, because I sure don't."
"I do. Sharon Road's a street one of my daughter's best friends lives on. In fact, the house we're going to just may be a neighbor friend of hers. We'll be there in four minutes."
"What do you think we got?"
"Someone who's very unhappy.." DeSoto said. "Suiciders always seem to be that way when they start trying to kill themselves."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
From : "Roger Stuart" EMT/FF
Soon, the engine and squad pulled up at the house. Stanley was relieved that the cops had preceded them, assuring scene safety.
The gang entered the house on the invite of a crying mother. "It's Michael.. Please, he's on the couch..." she sobbed. "He's taken his grandmother's heart medication.."
Johnny motioned for Stoker to place the resuscitator by the young teenager's head while he knelt beside him. "Michael, Michael! Can you hear me?" he said, feeling for a wrist pulse with his own arm draped also over the boy's stomach. "He's breathing.." he told the others. "Normal so far."
Then Johnny moved to further test Michael's awareness level. He rubbed a knuckle into his breastbone. The boy groaned and purposefully shoved away Gage's hand, but his eyes never opened.
"Huh..." Gage thought. ::That groan is a very good sign for someone in such serious trouble..:: He bent to take a blood pressure while Captain Stanley got an oxygen mask set and flowing for him to grab later on, if necessary.
Michael's mother was sobbing to the police officer in the room with them. "I can't understand why my son would ever do such a thing. He's a good boy. Please...*sob* Is he going to survive this?"
"Ma'am, we're going to do everything in our power to make sure he does that. Ok?" Johnny told her. "Why don't you sit down in this chair over here. I promise we'll tell you absolutely everything that we're doing for Michael as we're doing it. Marco, can you come guide her over there?"
"Yep." and Lopez did.
"Thanks."
Roy stood quietly by, while his partner worked, since the teenager's status was nowhere near a crisis point yet. He took a closer look at the lamp stand near the boy's head.
The first thing he noticed, was that the grandmother's prescription bottle, laying on the table, was turned onto its side in plain sight amid recently used kleenix tissues and a T.V. guide, with the cap screwed on crooked.
::Well, that explains things.:: Roy thought to himself.
He glanced at the boy's closed eyelids and saw both eyeballs moving randomly under the lids.
::He's a very aware supposed unconscious. I'll just bet this pill bottle arrangement is a purposeful sign of a staged suicide attempt.::
DeSoto counted the pills and about eight were missing from the number count on the bottle. The prescription had just been filled two days before and the drug on the bottle was labelled "Furosemide", better known as "Lasix".
Roy then knew with little doubt that Michael was faking it. :: I can't think of a worse way of dying than p*ssing yourself to death on water pills!::
So, DeSoto leaned over the kid and palpated his lower abdomen. Sure enough, his bladder was as tight as a drum. He knew that Johnny was buying into the dramatic tension oozing from the mother, thinking the worst, and that had caused him to go deep into paramedic mode. ::He's thinking more about the ALS equipment than the findings.:: Roy thought. ::I think I better set him straight before he does any unnecessary biophone calling.::
Within ear shot of his partner, Roy whispered to the kid. "What you took are water pills. If I press right here any harder, you're going to pee in your pants."
That caught Johnny's full attention.
Roy went on, still keeping his voice down as Gage opened the teenager's eyes to check them with his penlight. "Michael, we have to assume that you are critical and know that my partner and I will do whatever it takes to save your life, unless you can tell us differently."
Now Johnny realized that his patient needed to drain his bladder in the worst way and Roy couldn't resist the temptation to make a faker tell the truth, so he continued and said to Michael a few more things. "That means we will have to stick needles in your veins, shove tubes up your nose, down your throat, to pump your stomach with charcoal. We will also have to shove a hose up your ..well, you know, before your bladder ruptures." Then DeSoto mildly applied pressure on his bladder and said. "We don't have to do all that if you can snap out of it and tell us how many pills you took."
Michael opened his eyes a crack and started weeping. "Four.." he said, and he held up four shaky fingers as well.
Roy smiled gently. "Since you took those pills, you need to go to the hospital to get treated for at least dehydration and an electrolyte imbalance."
Johnny, was now fully onto the situation, once he realized that Roy had solved the mystery for him with just a scene check. "So how about we load you into the ambulance and I'll give you a urinal."
The kid abruptly nodded his head affirmatively.
It took every ounce of energy for Roy and Johnny to keep their faces straight. Gage looked at Cap who asked. "Load and go?"
Roy nodded. "Yep, he's a Code 2 transport."
With that comment, the gang started putting away all the squad gear.
Roy handed his notepad to the cop, winked at him, and asked. "Can you take mom to the other room and get his information while we load him up?"
When his mom left the room, Michael opened his eyes for the first time, looked at the two paramedics and whispered, "Please hurry."
Gage and DeSoto loaded him up. And Roy volunteered to be the one to ride in with the boy. He jumped in as Cap said, "You're writing this report." and he closed the door from the outside.
Soon, Roy was alone with Michael.
Things quieted then in the driver's cab, as the ambulance began to move.
Finally, DeSoto was able to say.. "Ok, the coast is clear." Michael sprang to life, unable to drop his drawers fast enough under the blanket to relieve himself.
As the Cadillac driver took off, he tapped the siren a few times for no other reason than to give the Michael's mom one more step of a truly adolescent, unfolding drama.
Once they turned the corner and had gone out of her sight, the driver turned off the lights and Roy and the teenager were driven casually the rest of the way to Rampart.
Along the way, Michael sighed, feeling much more relieved after voiding more than a liter of fluid. The slightly built teenager laid his head back down onto the pillow and said, "You're awesome. I thought you were gonna bust me for being a fake."
Then, he started crying as he told Roy the story of his plight.
DeSoto shared with him. "Sometimes, while growing up, I thought I had clueless parents, too. I know how life, as a teenager, can actually be pretty miserable a lot of the time. And I know that your parents probably remained ignorant of your feelings until today, until you tried something like this."
Michael looked away from Roy with a resurgence of sadness.
Roy told him. "It's not so bad, Michael. You've probably succeeded at re-connecting with your mom. But trying a suicide trick next time will most likely turn into a real suicide because you won't ever know what you're doing. I could very well be thumping on your chest right now."
Roy couldn't count how many times Michael apologized to him then.
DeSoto said. "Be sure to explain the things you told me just now to the psychiatric people who are going to evaluate you at the hospital."
"Why are those kinds of doctors gonna be there? I'm not sick."
"They won't be seeing you for that, Michael, they'll be there because you need to be assessed for being suicidal." Roy clarified.
"They're going to think I'm nuts." he said.
and
"Yes, they will. Are you ready for that?"
"I'm gonna have to be." said the boy, with tears glistening in his eyes.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Later that night, Johnny and Roy returned to Rampart with a new patient from another medical call. DeSoto told Johnny that he wanted to stop by Michael's room.
Michael's mom was there and they were hashing out their problems.
When Michael saw Roy, the first thing he said was, "They hosed me." and he pointed to his urinary bag, obviously angry about it.
Roy laughed good naturedly. "At least, some good looking nurse did it here instead of one of us doing it on your living room couch right in front of your mother."
Michael dropped his head, and sheepishly said. "Point made."
Dixie entered the treatment room with an intravenous tray and the teenager promply offered her his arm. He certainly had no complaints of having an IV after his first encounter with a Foley catheter.
The boy was admitted for two days to monitor his electrolytes and for a psych evaluation.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning, Roy got a phone call at the station from Michael. ##Hey, Mr. DeSoto. My parents want to invite you home sometime so we can talk together over dinner.##
"I'm sorry, Michael. But I don't think that's a very good idea. You see, here at the fire department, we're not allowed to get personally involved with the patients we treat, but I appreciate the offer and I'm glad to see that you and your mother are beginning to work out some of those problems we discussed in the ambulance."
##You know something, Roy?## said Michael.
"What?" the paramedic smiled.
##I'm joining the paramedic program at the fire academy and it's all because you directly inspired me to better myself.##
"Now that's a scary thought. I wish I had that same effect on both of my kids."
##See you later?##
"No, but feel free to call here anytime, when you think you might be having some of those old troubles plaguing you again and I'll promise we'll talk more. Ok.?"
##I will. Thanks for saving my life, Mr. DeSoto. And please, thank your partner, too, for not embarrassing me in front of my mother when he realized I was actually awake.##
"Sure. Take care of yourself, Michael. Goodbye."
Roy hung up the phone and allowed a small smile to touch his lips.
Johnny, who was still up with Roy for the late show, mulled over Michael's case. "You know, that boy had me completely fooled with his true medical status. I had no idea he created the whole incident for us to find himself."
Roy didn't rub it in. "I've found a good many suicide attempts, with teenagers overdosing on pills, are usually staged because they're having a personal crisis. They, almost ninety nine percent of the time, have absolutely no intention of killing themselves, Johnny." Roy told him. "They create this kind of scene just because they are going through something emotional that they think they can't handle any more, and this is the easiest way for them to cry out for help while trying to resolve it.
"Don't beat yourself up for not seeing through his ruse, Johnny. I'm just a little more experienced than you are about these kinds of kids, probably because I see milder versions of tantrums in my own kids so often. I think I spotted the gist of things so fast because all the classic signs for a pill stunt were there for his call."
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: Patti Keiper
Roy and Johnny couldn't believe the changes that had sprouted around their favorite hot dog spot during the past seven days.
New, trendy rice paper lamps and genuine car lot, triangle-plastic-flag banner strings, framed themselves over absolutely pristine, brand new, white wicker metal patio tables.
Gone were the decrepid, peeling picnic tables of yore. All of the new shiny furniture, was sprawled underneath vinyl palm tree themed umbrellas, and accented occasionally with vases of real birds of paradise blooms.
Every day, when they could, between calls, Roy and Johnny, and sometimes even Chet Kelly made the sojourn to Davey's stand for the free handouts that had been contrived craftily by Gage's possibly very questionable medical deceptions.
"Well,.." Gage sighed expansively to DeSoto as he leaned back in one of Mac's newly redesigned and poshly cushioned seats. "I guess there's something to be said for the positive life changes that can come about whenever someone believes that they've truly had a life after death experience. I mean, just look at this old place of Mac's. It's ...it's simply...incredible, Roy! Don't you think so, too?"
"Yeah, but I also ...still feel kinda bad about how we egged Mac on, just to con him out of some free food like this."
"Oh, Roy, there's no harm done. In fact, I'll just bet that ol Mac's making more cash now in a single day than he ever did in an entire month! The cost of feeding us has got to be the merest drop in the bucket on expenses for him."
"Shh, he's coming back with our order." Roy cautioned, trying to smile in spite of his still contradictory feelings about the whole affair.
"Just the one dog today, fellas?" Mac beamed.
"Yeah, we're splitting it up. We're not very hungry this afternoon." Johnny chuckled. "It's been a very slow day at the station, Mac." he said, sipping a straw noisily on a Dr. Pepper thermos advertising the new look for Mac's stand. "We saved only....what?" he said, turning to Roy, who was trying to duck behind the new ice cream dessert menu.. "Just...two lives today, Roy? Is that right?"
"Yeah. A trucker wrapped around a viaduct pylon and an alcoholic street bum who was suffering a cerebral vascular accident." DeSoto replied reluctantly.
"Wow, my two very own personal heroes have pulled a couple of miracles yet again. Very impressive, fellas. Do you know how proud I am that I can call you my very dearest of friends these days? Here, let me tuck that in all nice and neat for you, Mr. Gage."
"Oh, that's very nice of you, Mac. Thank you." Gage smiled, allowing his now expensively poiffed, after shave splashed patron, to fuss over the unfolded napkin hanging from his collar.
Mac smiled and cooed, "Anytime, Mr. Gage."
But then Mac did a most peculiar thing...
He set knot cording fists on either side of his neatly ironed, aproned hips as his usually good natured manner decayed into something truly frightening. A full, very p*ssed off naval sargeant's bark exploded from his frothy lips. "Enjoy that delicious chili dog, boy, 'cause that's the last one you'll ever get to share with your pal here!"
"Uh, wha-- what do you mean.. Mac. Uh,...exactly?" Gage stuttered, and then he completely obstructed on beef link.
Roy thumped him in between the shoulder blades to rescue him quickly back into the world of the still conscious and breathing.
Mac clarified, in a dangerous voice carried softly enough, so that his regular and brand new crowd of business executives, wouldn't overhear him. "You twos was faking things on me the other day. In fact, I've known just what kind of nasty trick you two clowns actually pulled on me last week, all week long." he said knowingly in an unintentional verbal redundancy.
Roy immediately spat the very savory hot dog out of his mouth and into a napkin and he managed to mumble.. "Y-you knew?"
"Yeah, I knew. Only I didn't find out about what you two did, or more like what you didn't do to me, until later on that day, when I was taking my usual nightly bubble bath."
"Oh, uh...yeah?" Gage muttered lamely, a flush rising high and deep into his face.
"Yeah." Mac punctuated firmly.
"How'dya find out?" Johnny asked him in a cowed squeak. "Did a hospital staffer point out how common is it to black out on pure oxygen while you're in the midst of hyperventilating?"
"No. I found out about your little stunt, because I didn't find none of them red defibberatin' circles burned into my everloving hide... Nor did I find any sign of slimy spots anywhere on me, which I've since learned from kindly coroners, that are supposedly left over from that jolting jelly stuff you fire guys always use when you're electra-jumpstarting fresh, dead folks."
Roy and Johnny both gulped uncomfortably.
Mac's good natured grin sharpened into something entirely hard. "My grandma always used to say, 'If someone steals a dollar from you behind your back. Turn around and give them your entire wallet, too, with a full smile. For it'll make that thief's later shame and guilt burn that much brighter about carrying out the crime in the first place.' I fed ya for nothing all this time, just to make the revenge pot a little sweeter for the savoring. You know, my grandmother was a very wise woman, don't you think?
"So enjoy the burn, you pathetic pair of cocky paramedics. Especially you, Mr. Gage. Because after that last delectable bite passes those pearly white, native son molars of yours, this establishment is swearing off giving ANY service to anyone who's of the firefighting persuasion, FOREVER!" he roared.
And with that, Mac strode purposely back to his neat as a pin, freshly painted, now very popular, trailer stand.
"Oh, boy.." Roy said, placing his stunned chin on his two thoroughly miserable sets of palms and elbows. "Did we deserve that one." he murmured with a long, painful sigh. Then he added. "Still feel terrifically great about this wonderful day we're having?"
"I've got only one thing to say about being permanently banned from Davey's hot dog stand." Johnny swallowed, suddenly feeling his hot dog meal sit like a heavy rock in the pit of his stomach.
"Oh," Roy conmiserated. "And what's that?"
"Doggone it." he whimpered.
FIN
This is an exerpt from The Shallow Light Episode 26 Emergency Theater Live http://www.voyagerliveaction.com/emergency.html
Guest Writers; Roger Stuart, Sam Iam, Cory Anda, Cassidy Meyers.. **Their sections noted by author´s nick**
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