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Disclaimer: Yes, I know they belong to Mark VII Limited and Universal Television. I simply borrowed them for a cheap thrill.
Acknowledgements: Thanks to R.S., who provided assistance with the medical mumbo jumbo at the 11th hour, again. I owe you another ugly tie.
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As Squad 51's paramedics returned to the station, they discussed their last run with amusement. Johnny shook his head in disbelief. "How could people be so stupid? I mean, I've done some pretty dumb things in my life..."
"You have no argument from me there," Roy interrupted in a teasing voice.
The dark-haired paramedic glared at his partner as he continued. "But never in my wildest dreams would it have occurred to me to cram myself into a beer keg buck naked just to impress a girl!"
Roy laughed. "Yeah, I guess even you have standards." After he parked the squad in its familiar place in the vehicle bay, the two starving men immediately headed toward the intriguing aroma in the kitchen.
"What's for lunch?" Johnny asked.
"Chinese," Chet proudly declared. "Last week when I pulled some overtime, the guys on C-Shift introduced me to this great new Chinese take-out place. You're going to love it."
Johnny wrinkled his nose. "Chinese food? I've never had Chinese food before. Doesn't it have dog meat in it or something?"
"Oh, no. That's a myth. They just use different spices and stuff. C'mon. It's not going to kill you to try something new."
The tired paramedics seated themselves at the table while Chet enthusiastically pointed out the array of dishes before them. "There's moo goo gai pan, sweet and sour pork, pepper steak, fried rice and won ton soup. We even have fortune cookies!"
Johnny reluctantly tasted a small bite of the beef concoction. To his surprise, the food was as delicious as Chet had proclaimed it was. "Hey, this stuff is pretty good." He shoveled a larger fork full into his mouth. "Mmm. This is really good."
Chet grinned. "See, Johnny boy. That's the difference between your taste and mine. I actually have some."
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Johnny stopped mopping the kitchen floor for a moment to scratch his forearms.
"What's the matter?" Chet asked.
"I dunno. I picked up a rash from somewhere. Maybe I'm allergic to something." Johnny eyed the mop water suspiciously. "Have we changed cleaning solutions?"
Chet shook his head. "No. It's the same brand we've always used. I think the only thing you're allergic to is hard work. That's the problem with you paramedics. You have it too easy. You've gotten soft."
Johnny stared at the stocky firefighter and resumed his assigned task. Suddenly he found it increasingly difficult to catch his breath. He clutched at his chest and collapsed.
Chet frantically ran to the vehicle bay where Roy was polishing the squad and cried out. "Roy! We need help in here! Johnny's hurt!"
Roy hurried to his partner's side. "What happened?"
"I don't know. He said something earlier about a rash. Then he grabbed his chest and hit the floor."
By now, the entire crew of A-Shift had assembled around their fallen colleague. Roy rapidly issued instructions. "I need the drug box, bio-phone and oxygen."
"I'll call it in," Captain Stanley shouted as he rushed to the phone.
Johnny ineffectually gulped for air. Panic shone in his eyes. He struggled to find a position that would ease his labored breathing. Nausea threatened to overwhelm him.
A moment later Mike and Marco arrived with the requested equipment. Mike automatically picked up the bio-phone and established a line to Rampart. As Roy recorded Johnny's vital signs, his distressed partner gasped, "The Chinese food. I bet it was the Chinese food."
An alarm sounded in Roy's mind. Of course. Johnny had never eaten Chinese food before. Most likely he was experiencing an allergic reaction. A severe reaction.
"Rampart, this is Squad 51. Come in please."
"Squad 51, this is Rampart. Go ahead," Dr. Brackett answered.
"Rampart, we have a 28-year-old paramedic, an apparent victim of anaphylactic shock. Victim ingested Chinese food approximately 30 minutes ago. There is a rash on the neck, chest and upper extremities. Wheezing is present bilaterally. BP is 80/50, pulse 120 and respirations are 28 and shallow. Rampart, please be advised the victim is John Gage."
An awkward pause followed. "Squad 51, acknowledged. Place the victim on 15 liters of oxygen by mask and send us a strip."
Roy quickly positioned the mask and attached the EKG leads to Johnny's chest. "10-4 Rampart. This transmission will be lead two."
Dr. Brackett responded promptly. "51, I read sinus tachycardia. Start an IV of Normal Saline. Administer Epinephrine 1:10,000 0.3 mg., Solu-Medrol 125 mg. and Benadryl 25 mg. Is the ambulance on the scene?"
"That's affirmative Rampart."
"51, transport as soon as possible. Continue to monitor en route and provide updated vital signs every five minutes."
"10-4, Rampart. 51 out."
Roy sympathetically swabbed his friend's arm. "Okay, Johnny. You know the routine." Johnny involuntarily flinched as the needle penetrated his skin. He concentrated on trying to draw oxygen into his tortured respiratory passages. Soon he felt the familiar sensation of drugs entering his vein through the IV. Although it seemed like an eternity, within a few minutes the constriction in his throat and chest began to subside and his breathing became easier.
The ambulance attendants loaded Johnny into the ambulance, and Roy climbed in beside his partner. Captain Stanley closed the doors and slapped them twice as a signal to the driver to proceed to Rampart.
Now the worried firefighters waited for Roy to call them with news of Johnny's condition.
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Roy had been relegated to the emergency department's waiting room. He sighed with relief when he saw Dr. Brackett finally emerge from Treatment Room 2, and automatically set his coffee down.
Dr. Brackett smiled. "Johnny's going to be fine. He's breathing more comfortably, and his vital signs have stabilized."
"So do you really think it was the Chinese food?" Roy asked.
"Yes. It commonly contains an ingredient called MSG that can cause an allergic reaction in people who are sensitive to it. In some cases the reaction is relatively mild, but it can be fatal."
"Can I see him?"
"Of course. He's groggy from the Benadryl, so he may not be too coherent. And he's still wheezing a bit, so try to keep it short."
Roy quietly followed the doctor to the treatment room. Dixie was replacing the mask with a nasal cannula.
Johnny tiredly waved. "Hey," he rasped.
"Hey, yourself. How are you feeling?"
"Like I should have skipped lunch," Johnny replied with a weak grin.
The senior paramedic briefly reflected on the circumstances that brought his friend to the emergency room and suppressed a shudder. "You look much better."
"Better than what?" Johnny joked. "Nah, I'm doing okay. You didn't think a little MSG was going to do me in when a monkey virus and hit-and-run driver failed to do the job, did ya?"
"Well, I'm glad you're going to be all right. I think you gave Cap a few more gray hairs though."
Johnny chuckled, and then he appeared to become serious. "Hey Roy, promise me something."
"Yeah?"
"Promise me when it's your turn to cook you'll serve something normal. Like hot dogs."
Roy rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. "Get some rest."
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The next day the men from the station gathered in Johnny's hospital room to wish him a speedy recovery.
"I'm glad you're feeling better," said Marco. "We were really scared when you started having trouble breathing."
Mike nodded. "Yeah, I never knew someone could get so sick from eating something new."
Chet stroked his mustache thoughtfully. "I never thought I'd see the day when Johnny would be allergic to food."
"Well, Chet. I always knew I was allergic to you," Johnny teased.
"Hey, that's no way to show your gratitude to the guy who brought you dessert."
Johnny warily regarded his shift-mate. "What did you bring me?"
"Ta-da!" Chet proudly placed a Tupperware container on Johnny's bedside table.
"What is that?"
"Fortune cookies!"
"You have to be kidding me."
"C'mon, Johnny. Open one," Chet begged.
Slowly and deliberately, Johnny unwrapped the cellophane and broke the cookie in half. He cautiously unfurled the paper and silently read the fortune, inexplicably seized by convulsive laughter.
"What's so funny?" Cap asked.
Unable to speak, Johnny simply handed the slip of paper to Roy.
Marco couldn’t contain his curiosity any longer. "So what does it say?"
Roy struggled to maintain his composure as he read his partner’s fortune. "A new experience will leave you breathless."
finis
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