FSE

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Rescue Me

Another short with these two again, and I hope you enjoy them as much as I do! *smiles* Do leave me comments and other feedback, it always fuels my creativity, I have noticed.

Cheers!

*

The shrill yell of the monitor told me that this was going to be getting interesting.

"V-fib," I yelled.

"Shit, he's crashing," Leibowitz' long fox ears snapped back as he looked over at the ECG through his face shields.

"Starting CPR!" Doctor Myles called up, the jaguar stepping over to put his paws over the bruised, bloody chest of the dog lying on our table. In the process he crowded against the gowned form of Dr Leibowitz, frowning at the partially applied chest tube that was protruding from between the dog's ribs.

"Charge to 200 joules!"

I stepped over to the Lifepak and manipulated its controls while everyone around me moved in the carefully orchestrated, yet seemingly chaotic dance of trying to save one more wretched life.

"Charging...READY!"

"CLEAR!" Doctor Myles yelled.

Everyone lurched back and I hit the button. The dog's body jerked once, and then laid dead still again.

"Still V-fIB: " I called out.

"Continuing CPR!" Doctor Myles' glowed paws pressed onto the dog's chest and continued their frantic pumping, his tail, tensely jerking in rhythm, making his gown shake behind him. "Push one mig of epi!"

"He must be exsanguinating!" Leibowitz yelled. "Hang two more units of O neg on the rapid infuser and get the thoracotomy tray!"

An electric charge ran through me at those words from the fox. This you didn't see every day, and you always knew that it was not something called up lightly.

"Are you sure?" Doctor Myles asked from the fox. "Might just be a tamponade."

"He's badly hypovolemic and has penetrating chest wound, he's a prime candidate," the fox said, "It's his only chance. His brain will be mush soon."

"Isn't it already?" the jaguar replied roughly.

"Bless gang bangers for giving surgeons something to do. Fur clippers!"

"Lydia, get Mark!" Doctor Myles told to the lion nurse. "We'll need an extra pair of paws. Speckle, assist Leibowitz!"

I stepped over, just when Chrissy brought over the thoracotomy tray and pulled open the halves of the sterile paper covering it up.

The fur clipper was passed on and pushed rapidly over the guy's chest to create a bald patch, all the while Doctor Myles kept pounding the dog's heart in the hopes that there would be a blip on the monitor.

"One minute gone," Hannah said, keeping watch of the time for this particular code.

"Charge to 300 and CLEAR!"

I made the necessary manipulations, and once again the patient was left alone, while potentially life-giving energy shot through his body.

"Still V-fib, continuing CPR!"

The ugly brown iodine splashed onto the dog's chest stained Doctor Myles' gloves and gown while he still kept going.

"Pull that arm up!"

Raul grabbed the dog's arm, entangled with wires and tubes. A scalpel flashed on the fox's paw. Doctor Myles stepped back and out of the way.

"CPR terminated at 23:15!"

"Prepare to retract!" the fox spoke to me.

I grabbed the strangely shaped spatula-like thing and held it at ready when the fox, with calm that I never ceased to admire, sliced through fur, skin, fat and muscle. Blood oozed out lazily, now that there was no mechanical force to pump it through the poor bastard's veins.

"Mayo scissors! Stop ventilating!"

Lydia slapped the scissors into his paw, and the gruesome makeshift surgery continued.

"Rib spreaders!"

The medieval torture device was manipulated into place and then cranked, so rapidly that I could hear the tendons popping. More blood was visible.

"Suction!"

"Lydia?" I said.

The Yankee was put into my paw and I pushed its slurping tip into the pooling blood.

"Here we go..." the fox sounded breathless, excited, and scared, "looks like the bullet has injured the inferior vena cava. Speckle, digital pressure, there!"

He pointed out the spot with the tip of Kelly clamps.

Just like that, me, Speckle Augustine, had my paw resting on top of a drug dealer's non-beating heart.

"What've got?" Dr Field asked as he stepped into the trauma room, peering into what was frankly a bloody mess despite my suctioning.

"Penetrative chest trauma, looks like bust the IVC, need to repair," Leibowitz spoke rapidly.

"Want to try to balloon tamponade?" the doctor suggested.

"Yes," the surgeon replied, "Lydia, get me a Foley and draw 20 cc's of sterile saline into a syringe, we're going to inflate the balloon with that!"

"Starting internal compressions," Dr Field spoke as he stepped next to me.

I twisted my paw a little, keeping the pressure steady while the senior physician wrapped his paw around the dog's heart and began to squeeze it rhythmically. A few moments later I could feel a squishing sensation under my pad as blood weakly moved inside the blood vessel.

"Amiodarone, 300 mg IV push!"

"Hang two more units to rapid infuser and get the cell-saver going!

"Move now, Speckle!" the fox told me. "Terminate compressions!"

The fox used an artery clamp to push the yellow catheter into the ragged hole in the big blood vessel.

"Hold it!" he told me. "the syringe!"

I pressed my finger there, and felt the tissue grow firmer underneath.

"Internal paddles, 20 joules!"

The delicate pads were handed over and applied to the dog's heart like a pair of tongs on BBQ meat, really.

"Charging...CLEAR!"

The heart muscle contracted once...twice...and again.

"Sinus bradycardia!"

"Got a weak carotid!"

I'll be damned...that heart really was beating again.

"Satinsky!" Leibowitz wasn't happy yet. "Let's cross-clamp the aorta and get him to the OR! Suction!"

There I was still.

*

"Speckle!"

"Hu-huh?"

Franklin was nudging my shoulder, the moose hovering over me, naturally, while I'd been sitting with my legs drawn up to my chest on the corner of the couch in the nurse's lounge.

"What is it? Someone coding?" I asked.

"No, it's just that you're off," he said, "we're turning over."

I blinked and yawned.

"Oh...oh..."

"Thought you'd like to know," the moose smiled.

"Hah, thanks, definitely," I said as I got up from the couch. My tail twang a little in the process, since it seemed I'd sat on it somewhat awkwardly. "Uhh..."

"Want some coffee before you go?" Franklin asked, hand adjusting his stethoscope on his neck.

"I think I'll pass this time," I smiled. "I just want a shower and porridge and bed."

"I wish," he said.

"At least you didn't do a night this time," I replied, "you know that they mostly come out at night...mostly."

"Game over, man, game over!" he threw his hands up in the air.

Gotta love geeky co-workers.

I walked over to my locker and turned the combination lock to get into my stuff. The first thing, as always these days, was to check the phone for any messages that might be there. My tail definitely forgot its earlier discomfort as it began to wag at the sight of the name "DANIEL" on the screen.

GETTING OFF SHIFT.

CAN'T WAIT TO SEE

_ _

How adorable as that? We were just going to be sleeping probably, since both of us were off, yes, but we'd also just stayed up all night which meant that there was some recharging to be done before we could even contemplate doing something other than crashing.

I thought about answering the message right away but seeing the time, I knew he might already be in bed and I didn't want to risk waking him up with the buzzing of his phone. I could greet him 'good morning' by whispering it into his ear, too, and that'd work well enough.

I changed quickly, gathered a few items into my bag and then waved to Franklin, who was now applying some by-mouth coffee to get himself going.

"I'll be off," I said, "see you around."

"Good day, dude!" the moose replied.

"Good day!"

The swinging door was the only thing separating me from the relative peace of the nurse's lounge and the madness of the reception area. Myriads of noises and scents met me, but I was feeling springy enough on my paws now. Admitting seemed as busy as always but I wasn't going to pay anything attention to that...until I saw the haughty form of Doctor Leibowitz who was still on duty, and finishing up writing something onto a chart while Doctor Anderson supervised.

"...and once the CT comes in, we can see if there's need for immediate surgery, but for now, keep her comfortable with Demerol and we'll be fine."

"I agree," Doctor Anderson replied.

"Good morning", I greeted the two, the morning fresh attending and the surgeon who'd been on call all night.

"Speckle."

"What happened to the drug dealer?" I asked from the fox.

He shrugged.

"Got him up to OR but he went into DIC when we were sorting out the vena cava and he blew his kidneys and liver and coded and that was it."

"Damn" I said.

The fox gave a somewhat tired, non-pulsed shrug. Even he seemed to be running out of energy by now.

"Eight percent of arrest patients make it back out of the hospital," he said, "throw in the slop job thoracotomy..."

Doctor Anderson's ears perked.

"Someone cracked a chest last night?" he asked.

Yes, unlike television, which you probably think about, we don't do it every day here, with hard thumping music pounding in our ears.

"I did," Doctor Leibowitz said.

Doctor Anderson gave him a curious look. It wasn't like the fox to be referring to his own work in such terms. The fox seemed to be noticing as much.

"I was called down to do a surgical consult on G-S-W to the chest and I was just putting in a chest tube when he went south and I had to do what I did."

"Must look good on your book," Doctor Anderson replied, "even if he died."

"They always die," the fox said. "I need coffee."

Carol decided to walk out of Exam 3 at that moment with a chart in her paws.

"Need surgical consult on putrid toes."

Doctor Leibowitz snorted.

"Is that even a proper diagnosis?"

Carol slapped the chart to his paws.

"Mitchell almost puked to the trashcan when we unwrapped that footpaw, I think it does," she said, "I'm going to take a delousing...or something."

"And I'm out," I said, "Catch you all later."

I got polite murmurs from the doctors and a smile from Carol, and then I was off.

*

I let myself into the apartment quietly. These new living arrangements had taught me a great deal about tiptoeing around, including doing a kind of a stealth strip that'd lead me into the bathroom and then out of it and into bed without making as much as a rustle of sheets.

Dang. I could only get as far as the living room. Not because I crashed onto something and made ruckus that'd waken up the entire building, no, rather, I just had to stop because Daniel was there.

My fire lion had been showering, for he was sprawled on the couch with one towel around his neck and the other about his waist, legs up and tail flopped lazily so that the tuff at the tip just about touched the floor. The TV wasn't on so it seemed that he'd just simply sat down for a little breather and had drifted away.

He looked cute, head propped on the pillow my mother had insisted on buying to me, and with an arm draped over his chest.

How was I going to get past this now...adorable lions were hard to pass up...and I should let him sleep.

"Hmmmmrrr..."

I was busted.

"Hmmmoorning" he yawned.

"Sorry," I smiled a little.

"Nah," he smiled, and patted the couch, "come'ere..."

He threw his legs down and I occupied the space that was still warmed by his body. His bigger size certainly came useful, considering how he could just pull me into the crook of his arm and I ruffled my muzzle onto his neck and the short mane there. It was wonderful to just breathe in his scent and keep him close.

"Hello," I said.

"Long night?" he asked.

"Long enough. Even got a little nap at one point."

"Lucky. We were pretty busy."

"Us too," I said.

There was nothing new about that, and we knew as much. That's why we just smiled, and held one another.

*

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed this, and I look forward to reading your feedback!

Cheerio!