forehead.
‘Help . . .’ He murmured something else.
Anya tried to understand as Karen and Novak kept up a rapid dialogue of instructions.
‘Her,’ he whispered again.
Anya bent down to better hear among the chaos.
‘Stop him.’
‘It’s all right,’ Anya answered, ‘we’ll look after you.’
‘Is he refusing treatment?’ Rachel pulled the stethoscope plugs from her ears after checking Carlos’s blood pressure again.
‘There will be plenty of time for naming the shooter once we are finished.’ Novak was matter-of-fact.
‘He’s frightened, and doesn’t understand what’s going on,’ Anya said. ‘If you can stem the blood loss and get a stable BP, that could buy enough time to get him to a major treatment centre.’
Carlos had one intravenous cannula and a bag of saline dripping through it.
Doctor Novak may have been good at amputating legs in a war zone, but they owed it to Carlos to try to save both legs. Another pair of experienced hands would help. She asked the officer to page Martin Hegarty, a trained intensive care nurse. He exited the room in record time.
‘What pain relief has he had?’
‘Total twenty milligrams morphine,’ Karen said. ‘Didn’t touch him.’
‘We need to act now.’ Novak seemed intent on operating.
Anya had to think quickly. ‘Do you have X-ray facilities?’
‘Already done,’ Novak announced. ‘There, on the screen.’
Anya examined the computerised images. Her heart sank. The first showed a shattered base of the right femur, where the thigh became the top of the knee. The left hadn’t fared much better. Carlos needed both vascular and orthopaedic surgeons on hand to have the best chance of keeping either leg.
Rachel checked the blood pressure. ‘It’s dropping, eighty over sixty. Pulse rate’s one-forty.’
He had lost a lot of blood. ‘Do you have any O negative?’
The nurses shook their heads.
‘We can put out a call for blood donors and do a transfusion, but it’s not a simple process,’ Karen explained.
‘That will take too much time,’ Doctor Novak replied. ‘BP is already compromising the kidneys.’
‘What if we give more analgesia? He should stop moving around, then we can push fluids.’ Anya turned to Rachel. ‘Can you take over from Karen?’
The younger nurse obliged.
Karen quickly changed her gloves and checked the cannula site. ‘It’s tissued.’
Anya could see the swelling in Carlos’s forearm. The fluid was no longer going into his circulation.
Karen put a tourniquet on his other arm and tapped a vein in the back of his hand. Carlos was still flailing about and it was like trying to hit a moving target. Karen’s hands began to shake.
Martin bowled in and quickly assessed the scene. ‘If you like, I’ll have a go at that.’ He sidled beside Karen and she seemed relieved to hand over the task.
Anya was impressed at how calm Martin appeared, despite the chaos in the room. Karen locked the elbow straight and held it firmly to minimise Carlos’s movement.
‘Eureka.’ Martin secured the access point. ‘Just like riding a bike. Good thing I kept the old registration up.’
Karen breathed a sigh of relief as she reconnected the saline and it flowed, unimpeded. ‘I owe you two dinner.’
Doctor Novak seemed to ignore everyone in the room, including his patient. He had already set up a surgical tray with scalpels, clamps and suture equipment. ‘Give another ten milligrams morphine, two milligrams at a time,’ he ordered.
Carlos drifted into unconsciousness. Anya placed prongs in his nostrils and turned on the oxygen supply attached to the wall. A rubber cap placed on his left index finger connected to a monitor on the wall and registered his pulse rate and oxygen saturation. The monitor beeped . . . 118 . . . 112 . . . 108 . . . Anya rechecked the blood pressure. ‘One hundred over eighty.’
‘The bleeding’s slowing,’ Rachel declared.
‘Don’t know what all the fuss was about.’ Martin
‘Help . . .’ He murmured something else.
Anya tried to understand as Karen and Novak kept up a rapid dialogue of instructions.
‘Her,’ he whispered again.
Anya bent down to better hear among the chaos.
‘Stop him.’
‘It’s all right,’ Anya answered, ‘we’ll look after you.’
‘Is he refusing treatment?’ Rachel pulled the stethoscope plugs from her ears after checking Carlos’s blood pressure again.
‘There will be plenty of time for naming the shooter once we are finished.’ Novak was matter-of-fact.
‘He’s frightened, and doesn’t understand what’s going on,’ Anya said. ‘If you can stem the blood loss and get a stable BP, that could buy enough time to get him to a major treatment centre.’
Carlos had one intravenous cannula and a bag of saline dripping through it.
Doctor Novak may have been good at amputating legs in a war zone, but they owed it to Carlos to try to save both legs. Another pair of experienced hands would help. She asked the officer to page Martin Hegarty, a trained intensive care nurse. He exited the room in record time.
‘What pain relief has he had?’
‘Total twenty milligrams morphine,’ Karen said. ‘Didn’t touch him.’
‘We need to act now.’ Novak seemed intent on operating.
Anya had to think quickly. ‘Do you have X-ray facilities?’
‘Already done,’ Novak announced. ‘There, on the screen.’
Anya examined the computerised images. Her heart sank. The first showed a shattered base of the right femur, where the thigh became the top of the knee. The left hadn’t fared much better. Carlos needed both vascular and orthopaedic surgeons on hand to have the best chance of keeping either leg.
Rachel checked the blood pressure. ‘It’s dropping, eighty over sixty. Pulse rate’s one-forty.’
He had lost a lot of blood. ‘Do you have any O negative?’
The nurses shook their heads.
‘We can put out a call for blood donors and do a transfusion, but it’s not a simple process,’ Karen explained.
‘That will take too much time,’ Doctor Novak replied. ‘BP is already compromising the kidneys.’
‘What if we give more analgesia? He should stop moving around, then we can push fluids.’ Anya turned to Rachel. ‘Can you take over from Karen?’
The younger nurse obliged.
Karen quickly changed her gloves and checked the cannula site. ‘It’s tissued.’
Anya could see the swelling in Carlos’s forearm. The fluid was no longer going into his circulation.
Karen put a tourniquet on his other arm and tapped a vein in the back of his hand. Carlos was still flailing about and it was like trying to hit a moving target. Karen’s hands began to shake.
Martin bowled in and quickly assessed the scene. ‘If you like, I’ll have a go at that.’ He sidled beside Karen and she seemed relieved to hand over the task.
Anya was impressed at how calm Martin appeared, despite the chaos in the room. Karen locked the elbow straight and held it firmly to minimise Carlos’s movement.
‘Eureka.’ Martin secured the access point. ‘Just like riding a bike. Good thing I kept the old registration up.’
Karen breathed a sigh of relief as she reconnected the saline and it flowed, unimpeded. ‘I owe you two dinner.’
Doctor Novak seemed to ignore everyone in the room, including his patient. He had already set up a surgical tray with scalpels, clamps and suture equipment. ‘Give another ten milligrams morphine, two milligrams at a time,’ he ordered.
Carlos drifted into unconsciousness. Anya placed prongs in his nostrils and turned on the oxygen supply attached to the wall. A rubber cap placed on his left index finger connected to a monitor on the wall and registered his pulse rate and oxygen saturation. The monitor beeped . . . 118 . . . 112 . . . 108 . . . Anya rechecked the blood pressure. ‘One hundred over eighty.’
‘The bleeding’s slowing,’ Rachel declared.
‘Don’t know what all the fuss was about.’ Martin
Similar Books
