English Version: Sands & Sparrow

25

"What happened?" the ER doctor demanded sharply, quickly assessing the patient as she was rushed on a stretcher. A nurse shined a penlight in the patient's eyes.

"Pupils are equal and reactive," the nurse reported. 

"Blunt force trauma to head, chest, and abdomen," another nurse said, connecting IVs. "Scalp laceration, likely skull fractures."

A third nurse palpated the patient's wrist. "Pulse 130 and thready."

The doctor leaned in close. "Miss, can you hear me? What's your name?" No response came, just shallow breaths. "Unresponsive," he noted with concern.

Monitors started beeping urgently as she was hooked up.

"I need 4x4 gauze for the scalp bleeding," the doctor said, donning gloves. After examining her, he added, "Multiple fractures. Bleeding in the chest, possibly hemothorax or pneumothorax."

"Decreased breath sounds on the right!" a nurse called out.

"Get a chest tube kit," the doctor ordered. "Cross and type her blood, hang O-neg. Call CT; we need a head and body scan, STAT."

"BP 80/40, heart rate 140," the nurse reported. "O2 sats dropping, 80%."

"Intubate her," the doctor commanded. "Push 1 mg epinephrine IV."

A nurse inserted a breathing tube as the doctor listened to her chest with a stethoscope. "Chest tube is in. Get a Foley catheter and NG tube."

"Doctor, she's having a seizure!" a nurse shouted as the patient convulsed on the stretcher.

"Get the Diazepam!" the doctor barked, grabbing paddles as he prepared to shock her if needed. Organized chaos ensued as the team fought desperately to stabilize her critical condition.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

The team moved in agitation, tearing up Aveline's clothes with scissors that glinted under the harsh lights. They cut off the edges of her garments, wiping away dirt and debris with antiseptic-soaked gauze. Compression bandages were applied with firm pressure to staunch the bleeding, the white material quickly staining red.

Suddenly, a long beep pierced through the ER. The team's heads snapped towards the monitor, their eyes widening in alarm at what they saw. The lines on the screen, representing Aveline's vital signs, gradually dropped, each descent marking a step closer to the unthinkable. The sound signaled imminent danger - Aveline was losing more blood, and her heart rate was plummeting into shock.

"Somebody page surgery now!" the female doctor urged, her fear becoming a reality.

"I'm not getting a pulse!" a doctor exclaimed, his fingers pressed firmly against Aveline's wrist. His face paled as he looked up, meeting the eyes of his colleagues. "Rose! Start the CPR!" He barked at the intern, his voice sharp with urgency.

Rose, a young intern with determination etched on her face, sprang into action without hesitation. She positioned her palms on Aveline's chest, interlocking her fingers as she'd been trained. The thin hospital gown crinkled under her hands as she began the compressions. She pushed harder, feeling the give of Aveline's ribcage beneath her palms. And again, the rhythm was steady and insistent. With each compression, she sought to induce airflow, to spark life back into the still form beneath her hands.

Once more, her arms burned with the effort.

And again, sweat began to bead on her forehead.

Each press of her hands made the bed creak. A grunt escaped Rose between breaths, her forehead creasing with desperation. "You're not going to die; you're not dying! Not on my watch!" Rose muttered determinedly as she continued the CPR. "Try to hold still," she pleaded with Aveline as if the unconscious woman could hear her. "Just breathe..." Rose whispered, her hands pressing firmly against the chest. Sweat beaded on her forehead, a droplet sliding down and falling onto Aveline's cheek, resembling a tear.