Information, Please!
by E!lf

***brrring***

Roy DeSoto answered the phone. "Yes, I'm one of the paramedics . . . a pericardial tamponade? That's when the pericardium, uh, that's the sack around the heart muscle, when it fills with blood and the pressure causes the heart to have trouble beating . . . no, it can't really be treated in the field . . . Rampart, yeah . . . well, they
put a chest tube in to drain the blood . . . okay, well, glad I could help."

He hung up.

"What was that?" Johnny asked.

"Some woman wanted to know what a pericardial tamponade was and how to treat it."

"Oh, yeah? Why?"

"She didn't say."

The tones sounded and the two paramedics raced to their squad and sped away. Three quarters of an hour later they returned.

"Well, that was odd," Roy observed.

"What, that call?"

"Yeah, I mean, some woman calls to ask about a pericardial tamponade and then we get called out to treat one."

Johnny slanted a disbelieving look his way. "You think there's some sort of a connection?"

"I'm not saying that. I'm just saying it's odd, is all."

***brrrriinnnnggg***

Johnny answered the phone. "A pneumothorax? That's when there's air around the lungs that's keeping them from expanding . . . when the air gets trapped? . . . yeah, that'd be a 'tension pneumothorax' . . . life-threatening, yeah . . . well, you can use an IV needle to puncture the space and let some of the air escape in
an emergency, but you'd need to get them to a hospital . . . they put a chest tube in . . . it can take several days . . . surgery? . . . maybe . . . okay, glad I could help. 'Bye."

He hung up. "That was weird. That was some chick wanting to know what a pneumothorax is and how to treat it."

"Oh, yeah?" Roy looked up. "Did she say why?"

"No."

The tones sounded and the two paramedics ran for the squad and sped away. An hour later they returned.

"That was just freaky!" Johnny exclaimed.

"What? Because a woman called to ask about pneumothroaces and then we got called out to treat one?"

"Well . . . yeah!"

"Yeah," Roy agreed. "That *was* freaky."

***brrrriinnnnggg***

The phone rang. The two paramedics glanced at one another and then looked at the phone warily. It rang again. Cautiously, Johnny picked up the receiver and held it so they both could hear.

"Hello? . . . A piano? . . . on someone's HEAD? . . . well, how far did it fall from? . . . no, sorry. I don't think it's very likely that anyone would survive something like that . . . no, not even if we were wearing our helmets . . . Hey! Wait a minute! What do you mean, if WE were wearing our helmets? Hello? Hello?"

The tones sounded. Johnny hung up and he and Roy looked at one another in dismay. "Aw, man!" Johnny said. "I don't think we wanna go on this call!"

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