Twain Became One

CHAPTER 10: Emergency

"Everyone you meet is fighting a different battle you know nothing about, so be kind always" -Unknown

Pamela

I smoothed out invisible wrinkles on my navy blue dress. It was one of the few dresses I owned, it had black pearl buttons running through the centre and a frill pleated end. I usually stuck to jeans and shirts.

My hair was braided and gathered on top of my head, brown wedge heels adorned my feet the entire fact that I had to play dress up wasn't sitting well with me. And just in time my inner ninja opened her mouth- you are dressing up today, could it be for him.

"Of course not, I need to look formal and presentable. It definitely has nothing to do with honey brown eyes" I whispered to my self.

Whatever makes you feel better, you can tell it to yourself.

CHANCE corporation was a beautiful edifice, painted all cream on the outside and beautiful shades of brown and gold on the inside. It had lots of glass finishings.

A woman was cleaning the glass windows outside, when I passed. She looked elderly and the fact that she still had to do menial labour at her age was a sad fact but like most Nigerians she needed the cash. I mean this is Nigeria you need to hustle to eat.

I continued my journey to the elevator not even sparing a backward glance until I heard, faint cry for help coming from outside.

"Help! Help! Help!" The voice was getting louder but I decided to mind my own business. This is Lagos, everyman to his own business. The shout was getting louder and  I walked back outside to see a crowd gathered around the elderly woman I saw earlier.

No one was helping some were actually recording it, I just hissed and pushed my way through the foolish crowd. "Move, move, move, mister get out of my way."

After squeezing in, she was lying down flat on her back. I put my fingers to the outer side of her thumb and searched for a pulse. The pulse was weak and she needed CPR, so I started chest compressions. After doing five repetitions I placed my head to her chest, her lung was filling with fluid meaning she was likely suffering from Pulmonary edema and couldn't breathe.

"Call an ambulance somebody, back off people I need air and light, who knows CPR?" I shouted frantic going on full doctor mode.

"Wetin be CPR (what is CPR)" someone asked from the crowd.

"Chest compressions" I snapped, continuing to give her compressions but she was still not breathing. With Pulmonary edema it sometimes feel like you are drowning in your fluids. I could hear the wheezing sound in her lungs earlier.

"I do." someone answered, the severity of the case did not make me notice the steady familiar drawl.

"Okay take over chest compressions, someone get me alcohol and a neck tie" I shouted.

I rummaged my bag for a pen, jammed it against her ribs harshly, until I heard a sharp intake of breath, I poured the dry gin someone offered over the pen first to sterilise and tied the pen to her ribs to keep it elevated.

"Keep up CPR, she's breathing weakly now, let's move her"

"You and you, help me let's lift her. Abu bring my car around" My CPR stranger ordered and the voice clicked. I looked at his face, it was him, My CEO pervert.

We all got into his Mercedes jeep which was pretty sleek and decent on first quick glance and then I concentrated on my patient.

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We got her checked into a private hospital, but they refused to wheel her into surgery, without payment or someone to pay.