are his chances?”
She put a tourniquet around Stan’s right wrist so she could find a good vein for an IV. “I’d rather not guess.” She rubbed the back of his hand, but it remained cold and stiff. “Damn it, his veins aren’t popping up.”
“I’ve got the same problem over here,” Tom reported.
“There are two cut-down trays on the counter behind you.”
“Cut-down?” Tyler asked, his voice cracking at the end of the question. “You’re going to cut him?”
“I’ll have to, to find a deep vein to thread the IV needle into.”
Tyler’s face went pale as Tom handed her a tray.
His jaw was clenched, his eyes narrow, their color faded, making his anxiety palpable, but his hands moved with deliberate precision. Worried, but under control.
“I’m not surprised we had to do this, Tyler. As the body cools, blood circulation is reduced in the extremities in an effort to keep the core organs at a normal body temperature.”
“You mean he could die?” He sounded like she’d punched him in the stomach.
She glanced at Tom, who met her gaze with a flat mouth and solemn nod. Ready to do battle.
“It’s possible,” she answered, searching for the likeliest spot in Stan’s arm for a vein. She took in Tyler’s fearful expression. “But Stan’s tough, I think he’ll pull through.”
Aside from the whirr of the air warmer, there was complete silence in the medical center.
Emilie made her first cut and found the vein immediately. She inserted the needle and started the warm IV drip.
Across the gurney, Tom had started his IV drip, as well. He gave her a crooked grin. One battle won. “Ready for some warm packs?”
“Almost, just let me give him some dexamethasone to counter the brain swelling and check him for any injuries we might have missed.” She unlocked her pharmacy cabinet, found the drug and showed it to Tom.
He nodded and she injected the medication into Stan’s IV. Emilie pulled the blankets back and ran her hands over Stan, feeling for hidden injuries. “Did you know that the last sense a person retains and the first one to come back after unconsciousness is hearing?” When she finished, she gestured at Tom to grab the warm packs and fresh blankets.
He raised a brow as he pulled the packs and blankets out of the warmer, handing one of each to Emilie. “I’ve heard that.”
She glanced at Tyler and nudged him with her elbow as she tucked the blanket around Stan’s hips. “Stan’s going to be just fine, right, Tyler?”
“Um…right, Doc,” he said, after a second, bobbing his head up and down. “Stan’s going to make a complete recovery.”
“My faith in the company that signs our paychecks has been restored,” she said with a smile.
“Why do you say that?” Bob asked. He stood out of the way by the crash cart so they could move around the gurney unobstructed.
“Because despite the annoyance of some of their procedures, Nexadren hires intelligent people.”
“I don’t know about that,” Bob said. “Seems to me, Stan and the crew he went out with could’ve used a few more smarts.” He turned to Tom. “Isn’t everyone supposed to go out and work with a buddy?”
“Yeah.” Tom’s reply was stiff. “I’ll find out why he was alone when I do my investigation.”
“Is this Stan’s first winter here?” Emilie asked, careful to keep her voice soft.
“No, his third.”
“So this could happen to any of us?”
“Unfortunately it looks that way.”
“Maybe we should have a meeting with the entire crew to review the dangers, symptoms and treatment for altitude sickness? It seems to me that this is a good opportunity to promote general safety at the station.”
One side of Tom’s mouth tilted upward. “Are you handling me, Em?”
She met his gaze. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re a damn good doctor.”
“Uh-huh, now who’s handling whom?”
He didn’t answer, but shrugged, still smiling.
She hadn’t fooled him for a
She put a tourniquet around Stan’s right wrist so she could find a good vein for an IV. “I’d rather not guess.” She rubbed the back of his hand, but it remained cold and stiff. “Damn it, his veins aren’t popping up.”
“I’ve got the same problem over here,” Tom reported.
“There are two cut-down trays on the counter behind you.”
“Cut-down?” Tyler asked, his voice cracking at the end of the question. “You’re going to cut him?”
“I’ll have to, to find a deep vein to thread the IV needle into.”
Tyler’s face went pale as Tom handed her a tray.
His jaw was clenched, his eyes narrow, their color faded, making his anxiety palpable, but his hands moved with deliberate precision. Worried, but under control.
“I’m not surprised we had to do this, Tyler. As the body cools, blood circulation is reduced in the extremities in an effort to keep the core organs at a normal body temperature.”
“You mean he could die?” He sounded like she’d punched him in the stomach.
She glanced at Tom, who met her gaze with a flat mouth and solemn nod. Ready to do battle.
“It’s possible,” she answered, searching for the likeliest spot in Stan’s arm for a vein. She took in Tyler’s fearful expression. “But Stan’s tough, I think he’ll pull through.”
Aside from the whirr of the air warmer, there was complete silence in the medical center.
Emilie made her first cut and found the vein immediately. She inserted the needle and started the warm IV drip.
Across the gurney, Tom had started his IV drip, as well. He gave her a crooked grin. One battle won. “Ready for some warm packs?”
“Almost, just let me give him some dexamethasone to counter the brain swelling and check him for any injuries we might have missed.” She unlocked her pharmacy cabinet, found the drug and showed it to Tom.
He nodded and she injected the medication into Stan’s IV. Emilie pulled the blankets back and ran her hands over Stan, feeling for hidden injuries. “Did you know that the last sense a person retains and the first one to come back after unconsciousness is hearing?” When she finished, she gestured at Tom to grab the warm packs and fresh blankets.
He raised a brow as he pulled the packs and blankets out of the warmer, handing one of each to Emilie. “I’ve heard that.”
She glanced at Tyler and nudged him with her elbow as she tucked the blanket around Stan’s hips. “Stan’s going to be just fine, right, Tyler?”
“Um…right, Doc,” he said, after a second, bobbing his head up and down. “Stan’s going to make a complete recovery.”
“My faith in the company that signs our paychecks has been restored,” she said with a smile.
“Why do you say that?” Bob asked. He stood out of the way by the crash cart so they could move around the gurney unobstructed.
“Because despite the annoyance of some of their procedures, Nexadren hires intelligent people.”
“I don’t know about that,” Bob said. “Seems to me, Stan and the crew he went out with could’ve used a few more smarts.” He turned to Tom. “Isn’t everyone supposed to go out and work with a buddy?”
“Yeah.” Tom’s reply was stiff. “I’ll find out why he was alone when I do my investigation.”
“Is this Stan’s first winter here?” Emilie asked, careful to keep her voice soft.
“No, his third.”
“So this could happen to any of us?”
“Unfortunately it looks that way.”
“Maybe we should have a meeting with the entire crew to review the dangers, symptoms and treatment for altitude sickness? It seems to me that this is a good opportunity to promote general safety at the station.”
One side of Tom’s mouth tilted upward. “Are you handling me, Em?”
She met his gaze. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re a damn good doctor.”
“Uh-huh, now who’s handling whom?”
He didn’t answer, but shrugged, still smiling.
She hadn’t fooled him for a
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