Disclaimer: All Emergency! characters belong to Mark VII Limited Productions and Universal Television. Of course I don't own them.  I just wanted to play and will return them to the shelf when I am finished.

 

Note: This story is an alternate ending to the Season Four episode “Transition”. It would be quite helpful to be familiar with that episode, in which a new trainee, Gil Robinson, is having serious doubts about his future as a paramedic. In the episode, the station is called out to the Ocean’s Amusement Park where some people are stranded in the “Sky Ride”. For one thing, it always bothered me that the passengers were so calm. Perhaps it is my own fear of heights interjected into this story that gave me the idea for the alternate ending.

 

Sky Ride

By

Mary Ann V.

 

 

Hank Stanley let his gaze travel up the huge crane and then to the unlucky park visitors currently stranded in the basket of the Sky Ride.  They probably thought it was a great day to visit the amusement park.  It was a cloudy weekday and the park wasn’t overly crowded.  A breeze was kicking up and the captain and his men watched as the huge steel basket holding the visitors gently swayed.  A plan was formulating in the leader’s mind even as he asked the park manager questions about the crane.  He held his breath when the manager told them the operator didn’t know the cable had slipped, and it could have become frayed or stripped before it was stopped.

 

Johnny and Roy listened carefully, anticipating the orders from their captain then rushed to the squad to get their equipment. Their trainee, Gil Robinson, had been quiet all morning.  It was the second shift in his training, and he had been brooding, worried he was not cut out to be a paramedic.  Roy had tried giving the man a pep talk, but he had no idea if it had any effect or not.  This isn’t the time to have him second-guessing himself.  As they put on their equipment by the squad, Roy looked at the trainee.  “Gil, you have to be sharp here, no doubt about it. Now just follow our lead, listen, and you’ll do fine.”

 

Gil nodded and glanced at Johnny, who gave him a confident nod before moving off, anxious to get to the tower.  As Johnny took the lead up the tower, moving swiftly, Roy could not repress the urge to caution, “Careful! These things can be slippery… can’t they, Johnny!”

 

Even as he continued to climb, Johnny cast a withering glance down at Roy, but nodded, both remembering his close call last year on a light tower, when his foot had slipped and he had fallen onto the steel girder, bruising his ribs. Roy was satisfied when he saw an almost imperceptible pause in the careful placement of Johnny’s next step.

 

The men stopped when they were even with the stalled basket, and Johnny asked the trapped threesome if they were okay. Tension mounted when the woman told them her brother was sick, possibly having a heart attack. After a brief discussion, Roy decided to let Gil stay with Johnny, while he would climb and secure a rope so they could swing over to the basket.  As they waited for Roy, Johnny turned to the trainee. “You’re going over first, Gil. I’ll follow.  Check the guy out.  You can do this.”

 

“Me? Damnit, Johnny, you know what happened with my last heart attack victim? That didn’t go so well, did it?”

 

“And Brackett told you it wasn’t your fault!” Johnny spoke sternly and poked a finger into Gil’s chest for emphasis. “Now get over it!  It happens to all of us. This guy needs you now.”

 

“Johnny, I-”

 

“Better get your head on straight, Gil.  The guy I knew in high school didn’t let anything beat him.”

 

The rope that Roy dropped ended any argument and Johnny helped secure it to Gil’s lifebelt.  Gil swung over neatly and entered the basket, returned the rope to Johnny then immediately began assessing the unconscious man.

 

Johnny watched as the wind and movement in the basket caused it to twist and turn on the cable. I really hope that cable holds… He swung out and managed to get a hold on the basket, only to have the wind pull it from his grasp, leaving him twisting 140 feet over the pavement.  He managed to wrap his foot around the rope and with his crewmates’ help, swung over and made it inside the basket.  Gil started CPR and managed to get a pulse on the downed man. 

 

The victim’s sister sat on the bench, quietly weeping. “He’s dying isn’t he?”

 

Gil touched her arm in gentle assurance.  “We’re doing everything we can to see that doesn’t happen. But we have to get him out of here and to the hospital.”  He turned to help Johnny secure the man into the recently arrived stokes.

 

The woman sobbed, “I – I teased him about coming up in this! He said he was – was afraid of heights, but I teased him.  He didn’t want to…” Becoming increasingly frantic, she grabbed Gil’s arm. “You have to save him! If he dies it’s my fault! He was scared before, then this thing jerked to a stop and he got really scared.  Help him, please!”

 

Gil touched the woman’s hand, pulling it from his arm. “We are helping him! Now you have to calm down! Sit down and let us help your brother.”  He eased her down as she continued to sob then looked at the other woman trapped inside the basket. Wide-eyed, she had not uttered one word, and seemed to be in shock from the ordeal herself.  At least she was quiet, but Gil could see she would not be able to offer any comfort to the distraught woman. 

 

Together, Johnny and Gil made quick work of securing the man and lowering him to their waiting crewmates.  The relief they had gained by restoring the man’s pulse inside the basket was dashed when Cap yelled up that he had gone into arrest again. Knowing he was expected to take the lead, Gil looked at Johnny and nodded, secured his line and rappelled down.

 

Roy had made his way back down the crane from where had secured the ropes after realizing there was nothing he could do to fix the frozen pulley.  He was relieved to see that the cable was not frayed or stripped, and should hold the basket in place. Hearing his captain’s call about the arrest, he had watched as Gil rappelled down to assist. He knew the trainee needed help fast, so he hooked the rope to his lifebelt and began his controlled drop to the pavement below.  As he passed the basket with the stranded passengers, he saw Johnny working to calm one of the women. It looked like he had his hands full with one of them.

 

As Johnny watched Gil make his descent, the woman grabbed his arm, pulling furiously. “What does that mean? He’s dead isn’t he? What aren’t you telling me?”

 

“Ma’am, please! We’re doing everything we can.”  He pulled her hand from his arm, then grabbed the rope and began to secure it to his lifebelt. “Sit and take it easy. We’ll have you down in just a second, okay?”  He pushed her firmly onto the bench, but she rose again like a coiled spring.

 

Johnny turned to look down at the scene below, relieved to see Roy just touching down to help Gil, when he felt the woman seize his arm and pull.

 

“Wait! You-you can’t just leave us here!  I need to go with him!”  She pulled harder, succeeding in freeing his hand from the rope, and staggering him from his precarious balance on the edge of the swaying basket. 

 

In an instant Johnny felt it all go wrong.  He damned himself for pulling his attention away from the hysterical woman to look down.  His shoulder brushed against the frame of the open door as he fell against it, momentarily hoping it would stop him.  But the jarring movement only caused the unsteady basket to twist and rock in the wind. Then Johnny felt nothing but air under his feet. It all happened so fast, but Johnny was oddly surprised that he was still able to register the look of horror on the face of the woman as he fell out of the basket, her hands still outstretched as if she could catch him.  And he thought of the quiet woman, who had sat frozen in fear watching it all.  What would this do to her?

 

He had no more time to concern himself with the victims now, as he spun away from the basket. Praying the loop in his carabiner would catch, he heard the soft zzzzzt as the slack in the rope slid through the metal clasp.  Hands sought purchase on the rope, just maddeningly out of reach, coiling out of control beneath him.  With no way to control his body, he felt himself turn upside down, just as the clasp caught the rope with a hard jolt.  He heard, with shocking clarity, the ribs on his left side snap under his lifebelt.  He felt the air rush from his lungs, and even noticed how the expanse of loose rope, which had been underneath him, was now wrapping itself around him as his body continued to swing and spin through the air. His helmet dropped off his head as his momentum continued with amazing speed, slamming him into the side of the tower displaying the ‘Queen’s Park’ sign.  A brilliant flash of light in his head and excruciating pain in his left shoulder and arm was the last thing he knew before darkness.

 

Roy had just landed and released the rope from his lifebelt when he looked up, expecting to see Johnny still inside the basket.  Instead, he was just in time to see his friend’s arms flail, hopelessly groping for one of the bars on the basket, before falling out.  Collective gasps were heard from Chet and Captain Stanley.  Gil, Marco and Stoker were busy performing CPR on the victim, too absorbed in their duty to notice anything going on above them.  Roy froze, watching with alarm as Johnny fell.  For one instant Roy tried to brace himself for the sickening sound when Johnny’s body would impact the pavement a short distance from him.  He winced with both relief and horror as his friend’s upturned body jolted to a stop on the rope, then continued to swing toward the ‘Queen’s Park’ tower, impacting solidly. 

 

Johnny’s body went limp instantly then swung away from the tower spinning and turning in a macabre dance at the end of a rope.  The rope had wrapped itself around his friend, and the image of a fly stuck in a web flashed in Roy’s mind, even as he started to rush toward the tower. 

 

Captain Stanley’s firm grip on his arm pulled him to a halt. “Cap! I’ve got to get him!” Roy succeeded in pulling away from his captain, only to run into Chet’s stocky frame.  The fireman held onto him as Hank grabbed his arm again.

 

“Roy, hold on!  Look, we’ll get him.  I need you to take over with the heart attack victim.  Gil’s got all he can handle there.  I’ll send Gil and Chet up to get John.”

 

“Cap! I can do it!”  Roy’s eyes darted back up to see his friend’s body still swaying, tangled in the rope.  Fingers tightened on his arm, and he pulled his eyes down to meet the tense dark eyes of his captain.

 

“Roy, Gil is a good rescue man.  He can get John.  He’s been doing it for three years at his station.  But he’s not an experienced paramedic yet, and that’s what this man needs.” Cap jerked his finger towards the victim for emphasis.  “I’m calling for another engine and squad.  Just get that guy taken care of.”

 

Roy fought for a reason to argue with his captain, but could see it would be a waste of time – time the victim and Johnny did not have.  He swallowed and nodded, casting one last look up at Johnny before moving to where the victim lay prone, surrounded by Gil and his stationmates.  At least when the other squad arrived, he could hand off the heart attack victim and be free to stay to help with his friend.

 

Hank motioned to Chet. “Get a belt on, and grab some more rope, Chet. I want you to secure a new line for Gil before he goes down for John.”

 

Gil hastily updated Roy on treatment that had already been started, handing over the biophone.  Their eyes met briefly and Gil touched Roy’s shoulder then ran for the base of the tower, meeting Chet.

 

Even as the two men climbed, they appraised the situation. Chet looked at Johnny’s unconscious form, now twisting slowly in the breeze. “Man, he’s gotta’ be hurt bad.  Did you see him fall?”

 

“No I didn’t see him, but we all heard it.” Gil Robinson looked for signs of life in Johnny, but from this distance, there was no way to tell.  They continued to climb until they were even with Johnny’s still form. “Okay, Chet. I’ll stay here while you secure the rope, but I need you back here as soon as you can.”  Chet nodded and continued up the crane. 

 

Johnny hung about thirty feet out from the crane.  From this vantage point, Gil tried to get a better look at what kind of condition Johnny was in.  Still unable to tell whether he was even breathing, Gil could see a good amount of blood on the side of Johnny’s face as he spun slowly around.  “Johnny!” Gil called out, hoping to see some kind of movement.  He could see that his biggest obstacle would be freeing the inverted body from the tangle of rope that had wrapped around his torso and limbs.

 

“Here’s your line!” Chet shouted from above before dropping the new rope. 

 

Cap waited on the ground then gathered the line.  He looked up to see Gil’s outstretched arm, waiting for him to swing the rope to him.  He watched as Gil secured the line to his lifebelt.

 

“Okay, Cap!” Gil yelled down.  “I need you to keep tension on the rope as I swing over to Johnny.”

 

Cap understood that Gil needed to control his move over to the injured paramedic. “Marco! Help me with this.”  Marco joined his captain, and both applied their weight to the rope.

 

Chet had returned to Gil’s side on the crane. “I’m going to hook a guide line to your belt, Gil. That will help you get over there so you don’t go bumping into Johnny.”  Chet secured the thinner rope quickly then looked at Gil. “You’re all set.  Take it easy, huh?  He doesn’t look good.” Chet’s eyes darted worriedly over to Johnny then back to Gil.

 

Gil smiled reassuringly at Chet. He had already figured out that Johnny and Chet had quite a unique relationship.  Early in his first shift at Station 51, Johnny had stopped him from opening a supply cabinet.  He had grinned silently, held up his finger and stepped aside as he pulled the door open.  Water splashed out harmlessly to the floor from a rigged setup inside the cabinet. Johnny had giggled, held up his finger once again then his face turned stern as he yelled out, “Damnit, Chet! You almost got Gil!”  Chet had come out of the kitchen so fast that he slid around the corner, eyes wide, and mouth gaping open. “Uh, sorry, Gil. The phantom didn’t mean for you to get in the middle of his war with his pigeon.”

 

Gil nodded that he was ready, then stepped off the crane, letting Chet and the men below control his slow movement over to Johnny.  He reached out and touched Johnny’s right arm, which was bound tightly against his side by the errant rope, stilling the continuous spinning.  He immediately secured the second carabiner on his lifebelt to the one on Johnny, then allowed himself a brief sigh of relief that Johnny was at least more secure, and no longer in danger of plummeting to the ground.

 

He reached over and felt for Johnny’s carotid pulse, relieved to find it beating, although fast and weak.  His respirations were shallow but steady. “John? Hey, can you hear me?” Gil briefly examined Johnny’s head, looking for the source of all the blood running down his face. A long laceration over Johnny’s left ear was still oozing blood, which saturated his hair and forehead.  Gil could see pronounced swelling around the left eye and worried about any facial fractures.  He had heard the resounding slam of Johnny’s body against the Queen’s Park tower.

 

Gil quickly decided that the first order of business was to free Johnny from the rope that seemed to encase him.  He tested different areas and found that the unconscious man’s weight was working against him, causing the rope to keep him tightly bound.  Not causing more injury while trying to free him would be difficult.  There was no way to truly assess his injuries until he was on the ground.  Gil finally found a place where he could start to unravel Johnny from his bindings.  He carefully pulled Johnny closer, pulling him against his chest, giving the rope just enough slack to insert his fingers and began trying to pull it apart.  Both men spun slowly as Gil worked with the rope.  It was too slow going – Johnny was impossibly wrapped, and for a moment Gil considered whether he could cut the rope, but quickly dismissed the idea.  He could not see how he could steady Johnny for the inevitable jolt once the rope released him.

 

“Gil? How is he?” Chet had tried to keep quiet, allowing the trainee to concentrate, but his concern overpowered his patience.

 

“He’s got a pretty bad scalp laceration and it’s still bleeding.  Beyond that I really can’t tell.”  Gil became frustrated as he continued to work with the rope. “I can’t get this damn rope off!”

 

“How about if I go up and release that line? We could just get him lowered down and worry about unwrapping him on the ground.”

 

“We’re going to have to, Chet.  This is taking too much time and it isn’t working anyway!”

 

Chet nodded, relieved to have something to do.  He yelled his intentions to Cap down below, then started back up the crane.

 

While he waited for Chet, Gil decided to try and assess for further injuries.  Keeping Johnny close to his own body, he felt along his left arm.  He could see swelling and discoloration along the forearm and wrist – almost certainly fractured.  As he felt along Johnny’s back and left shoulder, he felt him stiffen and groan. “Johnny? Hey, man, talk to me.”  He watched Johnny’s face intently as eyelids fluttered open then closed quickly, as he gasped against an unknown pain. “Come on, Johnny! Talk to me.”

 

Amid further groans, Johnny managed a weak, “R-roy?” He gasped and started to twist against the bindings.

 

“Hey hold still! It’s me, Gil.  Johnny, you need to hold still while we get you down from here. Tell me where you hurt.”

 

“D-down? Roy?”  Johnny continued to mumble. “Head… hurts…”

 

“Okay, how’s your arm?”

 

“Mmm… arm?”

 

Gil pulled Johnny closer, adjusting his weight in anticipation for the release of the rope.  Johnny cried out sharply “Ah, nooo!”  He gasped for breath. “B-back… hurts bad…”

 

“Your back?” Damn. Gil felt around but was unable to assess any damage due to the ropes.  “Okay, Johnny. Where else?”

 

Johnny’s head sagged down as he gasped for air. “Can’t b-breath… good.”

 

“Well you’re all wrapped up in rope.  We’re about to get you down and I need to move you against me, Johnny.  It’s gonna hurt like hell.  The way this rope has you tangled, I can’t take you down any other way.”

 

“R-roy coming? Roy?” Johnny closed his eyes and shuddered against the pain in his head.

 

“Roy’s down below.  He’ll be waiting for you.  I’m going to move you now so your back is against me, John.  Hold on.”  Gil tried to be gentle, but any movement caused the injured man to moan.  He wrapped his arm around Johnny and fit his legs under the others, hoping to brace any movement when the rope released him.  He pulled Johnny to him, letting his back rest against his chest.  “Johnny, are you with me?”  Johnny was panting now between moans, and sweat had mixed with the blood on his face. He did not seem to hear as his head lolled back against Gil’s shoulder, then dropped forward again.

 

“Gil!” Chet yelled from above. “Tell me when you’re ready and I’ll release this slowly and keep some tension on the rope so he doesn’t drop.”

 

He’s reading my mind. “Go ahead, Chet. We need to get down fast!” When the rope was released, the movement to Johnny’s body was minimal but still elicited a deep groan.  Gil felt the tension in the rope loosen.  “Okay, Cap! We’re coming down. We need to get him on a board and collared first thing.”

 

Captain Stanley and Marco steadied the rope and watched as Gil brought his charge down in one fluid, gentle motion.  Both helped steady Johnny as Gil released the carabiner. 

 

“Watch his left arm. It’s broken, and he complained of back pain. But I don’t know what else yet.”  Gil frowned as he kept his eyes riveted to his patient.

 

Cap and Marco lowered the injured paramedic to the ground, right onto the backboard then Marco secured the collar.  Johnny groaned and mumbled incoherently. “Take it easy, John. We’ve got you,” Cap spoke close to Johnny’s ear.

 

Gil dropped down next to them after he released his own rope. “I need the equipment and-” Before he could finish Mike Stoker had dropped the biophone and drug box next to him.  “Let’s get this rope off of him, but be careful. I couldn’t exactly assess him up there. We’re going to need the oxygen and splint box too.”   Mike rushed off as Marco knelt near Johnny’s feet and started pulling the tangle of rope from his friend.

 

“Roy’s on his way, Gil. I’ve got 98’s here to take over on the heart attack victim.  They’re getting him ready to transport now.”  Cap stood up and watched Gil briefly acknowledge him with a nod, but the new trainee was now immersed in assessing and caring for Johnny.  His movements were sure and certain as he checked Johnny’s vitals, frowning over his findings.  “Rampart’s aware of the Code I and waiting for your report.”

 

“Cap, grab a bandage and put pressure on that scalp lac. He’s already lost a lot of blood there.”

 

Stanley’s eyebrows shot up as he obeyed, pleased to see the trainee taking charge of the situation.  There had been some discussion at the station regarding Gil Robinson’s abilities, but he saw no sign now of the doubt and hesitancy noticed by his men in the trainee’s first shift. 

 

The pressure Cap applied to Johnny’s head caused him to flinch and moan. “Ssstop…” His right arm came up and he attempted to push away his captain’s hand.  “Nooo-” He squirmed and gasped as pain rippled through his back.

 

Stanley gently pushed the arm back down. “John, now settle down. Let us get you feeling better.” Johnny continued to try and move his head within the confines of the collar, not acknowledging his captain’s words.

 

Mike dropped down at Johnny’s head with the equipment and made quick work of attaching the oxygen mask to his face.

 

Gil bent over Johnny, running his hand over his chest. “Pretty sure he’s got a broken left clavicle, and possibly two or three broken ribs. Belt must have done that. And who knows what kind of internal injuries from that kind of fall.”

 

Hank Stanley and Mike Stoker exchanged worried glances before looking over to see Roy approaching them at a run.  Hank stood quickly, letting Mike take over on the head wound.  “Roy, hang on.” Hank held his hand out. Roy stopped reluctantly in front of his captain, but peered over his shoulder, anxious to move past him and on to his friend.  “Gil’s got a handle on things, but hasn’t contacted Rampart yet.”

 

Roy was breathing heavily. “Okay, Cap. 98’s is taking the victim in, and he seems to be stabilized.  Captain Jansen needs to speak to you, though.”

 

“Yeah, we need to get those ladies down.” Stanley had heard 98’s captain speaking to the women through a bullhorn while they attended to Johnny, and was grateful to be able to concentrate on his own man, without the worry of two more victims waiting on his men for rescue. “Take care of him.”  He patted Roy’s arm quickly then started jogging towards the captain of 98’s.

 

Roy dropped to his knees next to Johnny, visually assessing. Johnny’s face was covered in blood, and Roy peeled back the bandage from under Stoker’s hand to check the severity. The bleeding had slowed, but still oozed.  It was a deep cut, and the swelling alarmed him.  Holding back his urge to take over, he asked, “What have you got, Gil?”

 

Gil answered as he began cutting Johnny’s shirt open. “Bad scalp lac, broken left clavicle. Possibly two or three broken ribs on his left side… just checking now…” He pulled Johnny’s shirt open then moved back to watch as Roy reached over and felt along Johnny’s ribcage, causing a deep moan to escape.  The senior paramedic palpated along the bruised area that clearly indicated where the lifebelt had jolted his friend to a stop.  Johnny squirmed weakly, but stilled when Roy placed a hand briefly on his forehead.

 

Gil continued as Roy assessed. “I didn’t detect any decreased breath sounds, but his respirations are 24 and shallow. Pulse 110, BP was 130 over 90.  He complained of back pain, and it appeared severe when I moved him up there.”

 

Roy nodded as he placed the stethoscope in his ears. “Get Rampart on the line and fill them in.”  Roy listened to Johnny’s heart and lungs, gathering vitals, then pumped up the BP cuff for a new reading.

 

“Rampart, this is Squad 51. How do you read?”

 

“Loud and clear. Go ahead 51.” Doctor Kelly Brackett had been impatiently waiting for an update ever since Captain Stanley notified them of the Code I injury.  He knew it was John Gage when it was Roy who reported on the heart attack victim earlier.

 

“Rampart, we have a 27 year old paramedic, just recovered from a fall where he was stopped by his lifebelt, then collided with a metal tower. He has two, possibly three fractured ribs on his left side. A fractured left clavicle. A probable fractured left wrist, radius and ulna. He complained of severe back pain.  There’s a large scalp laceration with considerable blood loss, and facial swelling with possible concussion.  He was unconscious for approximately 15 minutes during recovery but now has periods of consciousness with confusion. Vitals are pulse 116, respirations 30 and shallow, BP 136 over 80.”

 

Roy checked Johnny’s pupils, eliciting a gasp.  Johnny’s right hand flew up and pushed Roy’s hand away. “Johnny, take it easy. We’re going to get you to Rampart in a minute. Can you open your eyes for me?”  Roy quickly turned to Gil and reported, “Left pupil slightly dilated.”

 

Gil nodded and reported this information. “Patient also has significant bruising to his chest and upper abdomen, around the site of his lifebelt.”  The trainee watched as Roy gestured to Johnny’s bruised knee after cutting his partner’s pant legs open. “There is also bruising and swelling apparent to the left knee.”

 

“10-4, 51. Start an IV with Ringers, wide open. How soon can you transport?”

 

“Ambulance is standing by, Rampart.”

 

“10-4, 51. Get him in here.”

 

“Roy?” Johnny whispered.

 

“Hey, Johnny. Can you talk to me?” Roy placed his hand gently on the side of his friend’s face that was not swollen and bruised.

 

“Gotta’ get down… first… pally,” Johnny said weakly.

 

“Gil got you down, Johnny.”

 

“Mmm… nnooo… spinning…” Johnny’s right hand flew out reaching for something to stop the dizzying rotations.

 

Roy grabbed the hand and gripped it tightly. “You’re safe now, partner.”

 

“Head… Hurts, Roy…” 

 

“I know it does.  We’re going to start an IV and get you to Rampart. Doc Brackett’s waiting for you.”

 

“M’I in trouble?” Johnny mumbled something more then went quiet.

 

Roy could not help but grin. “No, not this time, partner.” He pulled out the IV supplies and handed them to Gil, who looked at him, puzzled. “You get one chance to get it right then I do it.”

 

Gil nodded nervously then proceeded to swab the area on Johnny’s arm. As he started to insert the large needle, Johnny winced and pulled away, but the trainee was prepared for it. “Easy, Johnny. Almost done. Hold still.” Realizing he was holding his breath, Gil exhaled after he successfully inserted the IV cannula and attached the IV tubing.

 

“Good job.” Roy’s face sobered as he looked up at Gil. “Let’s get him splinted and out of here.”  The trainee looked over at Stoker who was holding the needed splints out for him.

 

“C-cold… chest hurts…”

 

Roy touched Johnny’s cheek again. “I’ll take care of that in just a minute. Have to get this arm and leg splinted. Hold still now.”

 

“Nooo… juz’ leave it ‘lone…”

 

Roy reached for the arm splint. “I’ll do his arm, you get his leg.” Roy was fairly certain he knew how Johnny would react to the arm splinting, and he was not ready to let the trainee practice this on his friend. The arm fracture looked bad. Although not compound, Roy suspected it was fractured in several places and had to be causing severe pain from his clavicle all the way down to his wrist. Johnny had most likely used his left arm to try and stop his collision into the metal tower. His friend was not allowed any pain medication and the splinting would be painful.

 

“Marco, Mike, help hold him for me.”

 

Mike Stoker placed his hands on both of Johnny’s ankles, applying gentle pressure.

 

Marco placed his hands gently on Johnny’s right, unaffected arm, and on his chest. “Ready, Roy.”

 

Roy quickly lifted the left arm a few inches off the ground just enough to slide the splint under.  Still it was enough to wrench a long, strangled scream from Johnny, as his whole body stiffened. “Ahh! Stop… stop - Roy…” The movement only caused pain from his back and head to arc through his body like a bolt of lightening. He gasped then lapsed into darkness.

 

Marco was sweating as he held his crewmate down firmly then let up as he fell into unconsciousness. “Oh, mi dios…” He wiped his forehead. “He okay, Roy?”

 

Roy completed the splinting quickly then took Johnny’s pulse and BP. “Yeah, Marco. Think he’ll be okay.” He tried to make the words sound confident, but his two crewmates saw through him.

 

In moments, they had secured Johnny to the backboard and placed him on the gurney. Marco grabbed the blanket and tucked it around Johnny’s still form. 

 

As Roy climbed into the ambulance, Captain Stanley jogged over. “Roy?”  He scanned Roy’s features for the answer to his unasked question.

 

“I-I don’t know, Cap. He’s got a bad bump on his head and he’s confused and dizzy. He’s having severe back pain. I just don’t know.”

 

Hank registered the worry in Roy’s face, and placed a hand on his back.  “Keep us posted, Roy.  I’ll see if I can get a replacement for him, but until then…”

 

Roy nodded gratefully; relieved at the unspoken message his captain was sending.  It might take several hours to find a replacement.  Moving into the ambulance, he made room as Gil climbed in.  Cap closed the doors, slapped twice, and the ambulance rolled away. 

 

Inside, Roy directed Gil to get fresh vitals, as he tried to rouse Johnny.  “Hey, come on, wake up for me.”  He used his penlight to check pupils again, worried about the slightly dilated left one.

 

Johnny groaned at the light’s intrusion. “Mmm, s’op it.”  He struggled weakly under the blanket.

“Get- get me… down, Roy…” His breathing became more frantic as he tried moving from under the blanket.

 

Roy touched his friend’s forehead gently. “It’s okay, Partner. You’re on the way to Rampart now. Take it easy and we’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”

 

Gil finished his vitals and reported, “Vitals are… pulse 110, respirations 30 and shallow, BP 130 over 80.”

 

“Damn rope… get it off!” Johnny struggled in vain against the backboard restraints, surprising both men by his sudden intensity. Before Roy could brace his friend, Johnny cried out and went rigid as pain traveled through his back and shoulder. “Oh god…Roy?”  He panted and grimaced through another wave of it.

 

“Right here, Johnny. Lie still. I know it hurts, but try not to move.”

 

“I’m spin- spinning.  Stop it now… ‘kay?”  Johnny swallowed rapidly and moaned. “Oh god…”

 

Roy recognized the signs immediately and pulled the oxygen mask from Johnny’s face. “Gil! Get him turned! Can you grab a bag?”

 

The trainee had the biophone to his ear, and had just completed updating Brackett with vitals.  Hastily dropping the phone, he reached over and helped Roy turn Johnny to his side. There was no time to grab the needed bag now as Johnny released the contents of his stomach to the floor of the ambulance, and all over Gil Robinson’s legs.

 

Johnny moaned. This was pain that seemed almost tangible and solid that moved in front of his eyes, whirling and spinning in an unending dance.  He felt himself moving again, but was too exhausted to do anything more than pant and gasp.

 

Roy wiped Johnny’s mouth with a towel, “There, you’re okay now… take some slow easy breaths, Johnny.” They lowered him to flat position, and Roy replaced the oxygen mask then kept his hand on his friend’s forehead.  “Gil, let Rampart know about this.”

 

Johnny gripped the gurney’s rail tightly with his right hand, groaning as his head continued to spin.  “H-have… to stop…”

 

Gil finished reporting Johnny’s nausea and vomiting then started getting new vitals.

 

“I know, Johnny.  It will be over in a minute. But you’re safe now.”  Roy was at a loss as how to comfort his friend.  He was not sure his words were even getting through.  Johnny seemed to think he was still hanging from that rope, spinning in the wind.  He worried over the severity of the concussion, fearing that a skull fracture could be the cause of these severe symptoms. His partner had suffered his share of concussions before, but never to this degree.  As hard as Johnny hit the tower, a skull fracture would not surprise him.

 

Roy was relieved to see they were pulling into Rampart.  The familiar turns were a comfort to the senior paramedic, knowing that soon the ambulance would be backing up to the ER doors. 

 

The turns, however, had the opposite affect on Johnny.  He tried to move his head again, moaning loudly. “Nooo… stop…” His stomach lurched and he felt the sensation of his body turning as he heaved painfully.

 

Gil looked worriedly at Roy, who was talking Johnny through this latest bout of nausea.  The ambulance stopped and the door was jerked open.  Kelly Brackett stopped short, and watched the scene in front of him. “Vitals, Gil?”

 

“Pulse 120, respirations 30, shallow and rapid, BP 138 over 86. This is his second round of vomiting. He’s been agitated and confused.”

 

Brackett nodded and waited for Roy and Gil to lower the backboard to the gurney.  Johnny was sweating and shivering between moans. “Stop now… juz’ get this rope off…”

 

Roy nodded to Gil, “Let’s go.” He looked to Brackett as they pushed the gurney down the hall. “He’s complained of severe back pain but has movement in all extremities.” The gurney swung into the treatment room where Carol waited. As Gil removed the blanket and portable oxygen tank, Roy told the doctor, “He’s got some serious dizziness, Doc. He thinks he’s still up there spinning around on his rope.”

 

Johnny’s semiconscious form was transferred swiftly to the treatment table.  Kelly Brackett pulled his penlight from his lab coat.  Roy was ready for Johnny’s reaction and held his right arm down as the doctor examined Johnny’s eyes.

 

“Ahh!” Johnny’s head exploded in pain when the light hit his pupils.  He tried to pull away, but every fiber of his body was in agony now.  The rope wrapped around his body would not let him move, and the ground spun in crazy circles in front of his eyes.  Would he ever get down? How long before Roy came to get him? “R-roy…. Get me… down…”

 

“Johnny, open your eyes.” Kelly Brackett leaned closer. “Open your eyes for me.”

 

A familiar voice penetrated the spinning darkness, but it sounded distorted and far away.  It was not Roy so he didn’t care.  Roy should be on his way to get him now.  He would stop this spinning and cut the rope from his body.

 

Roy leaned close to his friend’s ear. “Johnny, it’s Roy. I’m here now.”

 

Relief flooded over Johnny. “Roy? Hur- hurry, ‘kay?  Want down.  Hurry.”

 

“I’ll hurry. But I want you to open your eyes.”

 

Johnny groaned his complaint. This was too hard. He was too tired and Roy still had not cut the rope off.  But he would do it if it made Roy hurry.  He opened his eyes, squinting against the harsh light. Tempted to snap the lids shut again, he tried harder, not wanting Roy to get upset with him.

 

Roy and Brackett watched as Johnny’s eyes slowly opened.  Johnny gasped and moaned then clamped them shut again when the lights spun in crazy circles.  “Nonono…” Johnny swallowed rapidly. “S-sick…”

 

Carol approached with an emesis basin and pulled the oxygen mask from Johnny’s face as Roy and Gil turned him to his side again and waited for the dry heaves to abate.  Johnny moaned weakly, wanting it to be over.  He gasped as he was lowered back to the treatment table.

 

“Carol, give him 10 milligrams phenergan, and get X-ray in here. Now.” 

 

Roy released the backboard restraints then cut the remainder of Johnny’s clothes from his body and covered him with a sheet as Carol injected the medication that would hopefully relieve his friend of the nausea he was experiencing. 

 

The doctor inserted the stethoscope into his ears, pulled the sheet down to Johnny’s hips, and began listening to his patient’s heart and lungs, moving the stethoscope over each quadrant of Johnny’s torso. Roy watched in concern as Kelly Brackett gently checked the scalp laceration under the pressure bandage, and probed the swelling on Johnny’s face, causing him to flinch. Johnny had calmed somewhat as the phenergan coursed through his veins.

 

“Gil, how was he when you first got to him? Was he lucid?”

 

“Not really. He was unconscious at first, but came to when I started to assess him. He was still confused, but could tell me where he was hurting.  Pretty much how he is now.”

 

Brackett nodded and began examining the bruised chest and abdomen. A clear line of bruising was visible where the lifebelt had jerked the paramedic to a halt.  The doctor’s fingers palpated areas, eliciting an occasion groan, or slurred curse.  The doctor listened closely to Johnny’s lungs again, letting his eyebrows furrow in concentration.

 

“Pretty sure about those fractured ribs.  He’s damn lucky. I don’t know how he avoided a punctured lung.  He may still have a lung contusion, judging by the force of the fall.  We’ll keep an eye on it. I’m not detecting any rigidity in his abdomen.  We’ll get blood tests to make sure there isn’t any bleeding going on in there.  Carol, get me a CBC, hematocrit, full chem panel, UA and anchor a foley.  Get Ortho down here.  Where the hell is x-ray?”

 

Gil moved hurriedly to the phone to call x-ray while Carol busied herself with fulfilling the doctor’s orders.

 

Brackett moved to Johnny’s feet and lifted the sheet from his uninjured leg. Running his reflex hammer up the sole of the foot, the doctor sighed with relief. “Babinski’s normal.  Where was the back pain, Gil?”

 

“He couldn’t get very specific, but most of his pain reactions centered around his upper back and left shoulder area.” 

 

“I don’t want to roll him until x-rays are completed, but let me see if I can find anything while we wait.”  The doctor moved to Johnny’s left shoulder, where he palpated the clavicle, causing a deep moan.  As he moved his hand slightly under the left shoulder, Johnny gasped and his eyes flew open. He let loose a strangled cry and tried to pull away, but the movement only sent more shock waves through his shoulder and back. He writhed on the table as Brackett and Roy held him down.

 

“Johnny!” Roy winced sympathetically. “Hold on, take some deep breaths.”

 

“Carol, get me 25 milligrams meperidine.”

 

Johnny continued to moan and mumble curses. He gritted his teeth against the sharp pain moving through his shoulder, and could not stop the tears that tracked down the side of his face. “Jesus… what… Roy?”  His breathing was fast and shallow, interspersed with gasps as pain held him in its grasp.

 

“I’m here. You’ll feel better in a minute.” Roy leaned over his partner, trying to get Johnny to make eye contact. Instead his friend’s eyes wandered about the room, unfocused, then slid shut, as the pain medication Carol administered finally took hold.

 

Kelly Brackett listened to Johnny’s lungs with his stethoscope until the injured man was breathing evenly.  He made a minor adjustment to the oxygen flow then listened again, satisfied for now that the administered medications had not compromised Johnny’s breathing.

 

The door opened and two technicians pushed the portable x-ray machine into the room. “It’s about damn time,” barked Brackett. “What part of ‘stat’ is so hard to understand?”

 

The technician did not even blink. He was so used to this reaction from Brackett. “What do you need, Doc?”

 

“Here.” Brackett ripped a paper from his notepad and slapped it into the tech’s hand. “I had plenty of time to make a list.”

 

After the doctor and paramedics moved out of the room, Roy stopped outside the door, tapping the HT against his leg worriedly.  Gil had stopped next to him and leaned against the wall, shoving his hands into his pockets.  Kel turned to see Roy shifting restlessly from one foot to another, turning to face the treatment room door, then back to facing the hall again.  “Guys? Roy!” Roy looked at him. “It’s going to be a few minutes. They’ve got a lot to do. Get some coffee.”

 

“No thanks, Doc.” Roy continued tapping the HT on his leg then looked up and caught the doctor’s stern expression. Frowning, he looked at Gil. “Go put on some scrubs. But, Doc…”

 

“I’ll let you know when you can get back in.”  He moved to the nurses’ station and began making notes in the chart.

 

After stopping in the locker room, where Gil changed into blue scrubs, he joined Roy in the hall and they walked to the lounge. Roy pushed the door open to see Joe Early and Dixie sitting at the table. Dixie smiled at them. “Hey, Roy, Gil. How’s Johnny?”

 

“Not good.” Roy dropped the HT on the counter and moved to the coffeepot.

 

Gil exchanged looks with the doctor and nurse, shrugging his shoulders. “He’s got a concussion, severe dizziness and vomiting. Broken arm, ribs…” Gil’s voice trailed off into silent worry.

 

Joe spoke up. “I’ll check on him. I’m sure Kel would be calling me in for a neuro eval. Probably just hasn’t gotten that far yet.  You guys did an excellent job on that heart attack patient. We just sent him up to ICU.  He should be fine.”

 

“That’s great, Doc.” Gil smiled, grateful to hear some good news. 

 

Roy, however, did not seem to hear.  He stood at the counter with his back to his colleagues, sipping his coffee.

 

Dixie frowned at Joe, shaking her head. “Roy, you know, Johnny will be fine. He’s-”

 

Roy turned around to face them. “Young, healthy, has everything going for him. Yeah. Got it.”  He sighed tiredly, then dropped his coffee cup into the sink and moved to the door. “I’ve got to call Joanne.”

 

As the door shut, the remaining three individuals looked at each other for a moment. Dixie spoke first. “Gil, what went on out there?”

 

“Johnny had a bad fall. He had stayed with the remaining two victims up in the stalled ride. I don’t really know how it happened and I didn’t see it, but Roy did.  Johnny fell out and dropped but his lifebelt caught him.  He slammed into a metal tower there.  It took me a while to get him down.  Too long, I think.”  The trainee’s eyes dropped and he sipped his coffee.

 

Joe stood up. “I’m sure that’s not the case, Gil.  It just sounds like Roy’s worried about his partner.”

 

“But I couldn’t get him down quick enough.  He was all wrapped up in rope.  I wasted a lot of time trying to get him out of it.  We should have been on the ground a lot sooner.”

 

Dixie stood and patted Gil’s arm. “Don’t start blaming yourself for anything. Right now Roy’s got a corner on that market. There’s a strong friendship there, Gil. I’m sure Roy wanted to be the one rescuing Johnny.  He feels helpless now.”

 

Joe Early set his cup in the sink then patted Gil on the back. “I’m going to check on Johnny.”

 

Dixie and Joe left Gil Robinson alone in the lounge. Gil dropped into a chair and rubbed his temples. “He’s not the only one feeling helpless.”

 

~~~

 

Roy’s conversation with Joanne had been short. There was not much to tell her except that Johnny had been injured.  Joanne knew to expect that Roy would be returning straight to the hospital after his shift, and not to expect him home.  After hanging up with Joanne, he moved to the nurses’ station and tried to be inconspicuous, so as not to incur Kelly Brackett’s wrath.  He stared at the treatment room door, willing it to open.  When it actually did, he jumped but recovered quickly when Brackett saw him standing there.  The doctor frowned, but motioned for Roy to come in.

 

“How is he, Doc?” Roy moved to the treatment table, where Joe Early was busy with Johnny. 

 

Johnny appeared semiconscious, and agitated. He moaned softly when Joe asked questions but did not answer. He lifted his right hand to brush against Joe’s arm, as if to push him away, but the kind doctor pushed the hand down gently and continued his exam. “Easy, Johnny,” the silver-haired doctor said softly. Roy stepped forward and grabbed the hand before it came up again.

“He’s not responding very well. Won’t follow commands and can’t tell me what happened. His left pupil is still dilated.  I’m not surprised considering the lump on his skull under that laceration.”

 

“Thinking skull fracture, Doc?”

 

“It is a possibility, Roy. I have to see the x-rays to be sure.”

 

“Yeah, I know.  He was talking earlier, but confused then, too.  He thinks he’s still hanging up there by his rope.”

 

“He did mumble something about wanting you to get him down. I tried to assure him he was safe now, but it’s not getting through yet. Give it time, Roy.”

 

Roy nodded and turned to see Brackett conferring with another doctor. He recognized the taller man as the orthopedic surgeon, Brian Borchardt, who had corrected Johnny’s leg a year ago after his fall down some stairs following an explosion at a building fire.  Johnny had been in traction for weeks and had been disappointed to miss Dixie’s surprise birthday party.  But Dixie had broken her ankle earlier and Borchardt had taken care of it too.

 

The technician from earlier popped his head in the door and spotted Doctor Brackett. “Films for you, Doc.” He handed over the envelope.

 

“Thanks, Jeff.” The doctor’s voice was apologetic and the tech nodded, knowing it was an apology for the early comment.

 

Brackett wasted no time popping several x-rays into the light board.  Joe Early stepped forward and put on his glasses, carefully examining the head x-rays. Brackett and Borchardt clustered around the other films, pointing and discussing, then pulling out more films to do the same.

 

Roy wanted to take a look, but there were already three doctors crowding the displayed x-rays, so he stayed near Johnny.  His friend shifted on the table, groaning.  “Johnny, lay still. You’re going to be fine.” Roy squeezed Johnny’s hand, but felt nothing in return, giving no indication that he had heard him.

 

“Spine’s clear.” Brackett said as he examined the films. “That’s a relief.”

 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” said Borchardt. “Look at that.” He pointed to an area on the x-ray, and waited for Brackett and Early to lean in and look more closely.  He then moved his hand to point at a second x-ray. “And there. Do you see it?”  The two doctors examined the films then looked at each other.  “I’ve never seen one. Have you, Kel?”

 

“I’ve only seen one, a couple of years ago.” Kel’s mouth twitched worriedly. “The question is, Brian, what can you do about it?”

 

“What? What’s wrong?” Roy could stand still no longer, and he moved to the light board.

 

Borchardt moved to allow Roy closer then pointed to the x-rays of Johnny’s shoulder. “Mr. Gage has a rare type of fracture.  First, you can see the clavicle fracture.  It’s a midshaft fracture, broken in two places.  But on this x-ray you can see that he has also fractured the glenoid neck of his scapula, or shoulder blade.  Now that’s rare.  It takes serious high energy trauma to fracture the scapula.”

 

Roy let out the breath he had been holding. “Well, Doctor Borchardt, he definitely had that.  He slammed hard into a metal tower.”

 

Borchardt nodded soberly. “I suspect this was the primary source of impact.  It’s just very difficult to fracture the scapula.  Unfortunately, he probably has some ligament and tendon damage there, too, which further complicates things.”

 

“What are you saying? It can be fixed right? I mean what can you do?”

 

Borchardt crossed his arms and looked at both men.  “I’ll be honest, Mr. DeSoto. I’ve never worked on this type of combination of fractures. They’re just so rare.  I think he needs to be referred to Mike Briggs at Harbor General.  He’s done a few of these. He’s the man to handle this.”

 

Brackett nodded. “I agree. Mike handled the one we had here before. I’ll give him a call.  He owes me a favor.”

 

“Good. The sooner the better, Kel. Right now I’ll wrap him up and splint the left arm fractures.  I don’t want to do any more until Briggs takes a look. If he elects surgery for Gage, and I think he will, then those fractures could be stabilized surgically at the same time.  He’s got to stay still.  His entire left shoulder is unstable.”  He walked to the treatment table where Johnny continued to mumble incoherently.  “His kneecap is fractured, but that should heal on its own. I’ll put that in a soft brace until the swelling goes down.”

 

Joe Early joined the trio near Johnny.  “Well the good news is that I don’t see any indication of a skull fracture or subdural hematoma. I’m relieved but honestly, I’m surprised. It is a severe concussion, so I want to keep a close eye out for signs of internal swelling.  We’ll repeat the x-rays in the morning and monitor his vitals closely.”

 

Brackett placed a hand on the uninjured shoulder when Johnny began to shift and moan. “He has three fractured ribs and I’m betting on a lung contusion. We’ll know how badly in the next 24 to 48 hours. His labs don’t indicate any internal bleeding, but we’ll draw them again in the morning.” The doctor turned to Johnny whose moans were increasing in frequency and volume.

“Joe can you take care of the scalp lac before Brian does the wrap on his shoulder?” 

 

“Sure, Kel. Carol, get me a suture tray and lidocaine.” He looked up at Kel as he moved into position near Johnny’s head. “We need to give him another 25 milligrams of meperidine before Brian starts moving him around.” Johnny had begun to move his uninjured leg about restlessly.

 

Brackett nodded to Carol to give the medication. “Then monitor his vitals and get him a bed in ICU.  I’m going to see how quick Mike Briggs can get over here.”

 

Johnny was angry. He had been wrapped in this rope and left spinning for too long.  His head pounded to the point he thought it would explode. Where was Roy? Was he hurt, too?  That could be the only reason that his partner would be unable to get to him now. “R-roy?”

 

Roy grabbed his hand and squeezed. “I’m right here, Partner.”

 

“Uumm… Roy? You ‘kay?” Johnny’s increasingly rapid breathing fogged the oxygen mask.

 

Roy smiled at his friend’s concern. “Yeah, Johnny. I’m fine. You’re the one that had a fall. But it’s okay now.”

 

“C – come get… me down, Roy.  M’ tired.”

 

It pained Roy that his friend, although confused by his concussion, was asking for his help and did not think he was getting it.  The senior paramedic squeezed Johnny’s hand and looked at Joe Early who gave him a reassuring nod.  “I’m coming, Johnny. I’ll be there, okay?”  Roy watched as Carol inserted the meperidine.

 

“N-now? Comin’ now?” Johnny’s eyes blinked open but as soon as they did his body jerked as he tried to brace himself from the rapid whirling.  Pain coursed through his shoulder and head. “Oh god… Roy…” His eyes clenched shut and he gripped Roy’s hand.

 

“I’m coming right now, Johnny. I promise.”  Roy swallowed hard as he watched Johnny trying to steady himself against the dizziness.  Roy could see the moment the medication had an effect, as Johnny’s clenched eyes relaxed, and the grip on his hand went slack.  Roy sighed with relief and looked up at Doctor Early. “He’s really dizzy, Doc, and confused. Are you sure…?”

 

“Let’s give him some time. It is a bad concussion, but really, Roy, no skull fracture.”  Joe watched Roy, as the paramedic seemed to mull over that answer. “It may take a few days for the dizziness to subside, but I have every confidence that it will.”

 

“I don’t know, Doc. I mean, he’s had concussions before, but never had this kind of reaction.  He’s so dizzy he won’t open his eyes.  The confusion, too… What if there’s something really wrong?”

 

Joe knew Roy had crossed the line from professional paramedic to protective, concerned family member the moment he had handed over Johnny’s care in the ER, and he would not have expected less. “Roy, just to be sure, how about if I run an EEG?”

 

A smile tugged at the left side of Roy’s mouth. “If that’ll make you feel better, Doc.”

 

Joe grinned back. “It will make me feel much better.  Now why don’t you go to the lounge?  I need to close this lac and Brian has a lot of work to do.”

 

The tall orthopedic surgeon had remained quiet throughout the discussion and could see Roy’s deep concern. “He won’t feel a thing while I get him wrapped, Roy. He’s pretty relaxed right now.”

 

Roy nodded and stepped out after taking one last look at his partner.  At least now Johnny’s features were relaxed, showing no signs of the earlier dizziness and pain.

 

Roy joined Gil in the lounge, who sat quietly at the table with an empty cup in front of him.  The senior paramedic grabbed the cup and filled it, setting it down in front of the quiet trainee.  After getting another cup for himself, he sat next to Gil, contemplating his next words.

 

“Go ahead, Roy, just say it. You’ll feel better after you do.”

 

Roy looked at Gil, puzzled. “What?”

 

“I know I screwed up. I did. We were up there way too long.  I wasted so much time trying to get that damn rope off, and I should have just let Chet lower him down, the way we finally did anyway.  I don’t know what I was thinking.”

 

Roy stared into his coffee cup. “That’s not what I was going to say, Gil.”

 

“Then what? I’m not cut out for this? I should give it up? Well maybe you’re right.” He slumped back against his chair.

 

“No, that’s not it either.” Roy sat up straight, shifting to look at Gil. “I wanted to thank you for taking care of my partner. You didn’t do anything wrong.  Everything you did was correct, and I still treated you like it was all wrong. And I’m sorry about that.  It had nothing to do with how you were performing the job, because it was fine, really.  It had everything to do with the fact that it was you and not me.”  He saw Gil smile at that. “Yeah, I mean, Johnny’s been hurt a few times before, you know? Sometimes I was there to treat him myself, but other times I wasn’t, and I don’t deal well with not being there for him.”

 

“I know he wanted you there.  Kept asking for you.”

 

Roy shook his head and rubbed his face. “Yeah, and that’s where I wanted to be.  But you took care of him, Gil, and did a good job. I’m sorry if I made you think otherwise. I let it get personal and I shouldn’t have.”

 

“Well I understand, Roy.  I hope if I make it as a paramedic, that I have the kind of partnership you two have.”

 

“You’ll make it, Gil. I have no doubt about it.  But you do still have one thing to learn.”

 

Gil leaned forward again. “What’s that?”

 

Roy smirked. “You need to be able to dodge when your patient vomits, Gil. But Johnny will be proud to know he was the one to christen you.”

 

They both laughed as the HT beeped. “Squad 51, return to quarters.”

 

Roy sobered quickly. “10-4, Squad 51 returning to quarters.  Looks like Johnny’s replacement is in.  Better not be Brice.”

 

“Brice?”

 

Roy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, c’mon, I’ll tell you on the way.”

 

As they approached the nurses’ station, Doctor Brackett turned to meet them. “Well Mike Briggs says he can make it over here later this evening.  Are you guys leaving?”

 

“Yes, Johnny’s replacement must be in. I’ll see if Cap will let us stay available from here if things aren’t too busy.”  Roy looked at the treatment room door, wishing he could see Johnny before he left, but knew Borchardt and Early were busy with him.

 

Brackett noticed the look. “I’ll call you if there’s any change, Roy.  He’ll be headed to ICU in a few minutes.”

 

“Okay, Doc. Thanks.”

~~~

 

Roy and Johnny’s replacement, Craig Brice, along with trainee Gil Robinson, would not return to Rampart until late that night.  An evening house fire enabled them to escort two young children to the ER for smoke inhalation.  Roy pushed Brice to drive the squad, while he and Gil stayed in the ambulance with the frightened children.  The last thing these two boys needed was Brice lecturing them on the necessity of having an escape route during a fire.  The oldest boy, 8 years old, had refused to leave his younger brother, who hid beneath his bed.  Both boys had minor smoke inhalation, but suffered from shock, each one groping for the other’s hand, looking for assurance that the other was still there.  Roy uttered soft encouragement to the teary-eyed boys as Gil updated Rampart with new vitals.

 

After finally arriving and setting the boys up in a treatment room with Mike Morton and an intern, Roy and Gil headed to the rest room to wash the worst of the sweat and soot from their faces before riding the elevator to the ICU floor.  Roy headed to the nurses’ station on the floor, where he recognized the nurse. “Hi, Dawn.  Where’s Johnny?”

 

“Hey, Roy. He’s in ICU 4. Doctor Brackett is in there with Doctor Briggs.  I was just going to call you at the station. Doctor Brackett wanted you to know.”

 

Roy led the way to ICU 4 at a brisk pace.  Arriving at the door, he stopped short and watched the two doctors, deep in discussion.  Doctor Briggs was slightly shorter than Brackett with a thick, unruly head of wavy red hair, and glasses propped on the very tip of his nose that he looked over as he listened to Brackett describe Johnny’s injuries.  He had the x-rays in hand, and nodded to Brackett as he stuffed them back in the large envelope.

 

Brackett looked up and motioned for the men to enter. Roy stole a look at Johnny. He was sleeping, and had a large padded bandage wrapped around his head. His face had been cleaned of blood and he appeared shockingly pale now.  He still wore the oxygen mask, but his breathing seemed even and unlabored.  His left eye was now completely swollen shut and puffy, as was his left cheekbone.  Johnny’s upper body looked almost like a mummy, wrapped in wide strips of ace bandages from the base of his neck, encompassing his left shoulder and securing it close to his body.  The left forearm stuck out from the wrappings, held securely in its own splint and ace bandage.  His swollen left knee was propped on a pillow, encased in a soft brace. 

 

Brackett allowed a moment for Roy to visually assess his friend. “Roy, this is Mike Briggs. I told you about him earlier today. We went through our residency together at Johns Hopkins. We both rotated into Orthopedics at the same time. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough and he didn’t want to leave. Mike, this is Roy DeSoto, John Gage’s paramedic partner and friend, and Gil Robinson, who’s been in paramedic training with Gage and DeSoto.”

 

The red-haired doctor pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, smiled broadly and shook Roy’s hand.  His shorter stature belied a powerful build, and Roy felt the strength in his firm handshake.  “Roy. Good to meet you.”  He reached over and shook Gil’s hand. “Gil.”

 

“I’m glad you were able to make it tonight, Doctor Briggs.  Doc Brackett says you’re an expert on these kinds of fractures.”

 

Briggs eyebrows lifted as he looked at Brackett. “Oh he did, did he? Kel Brackett called me an expert?” He looked over his glasses at Kel, who grinned. “Well, I wouldn’t call me an expert, Roy.  There’s no way to be an expert when these types of fractures happen so rarely.  It’s not like a simple arm fracture or leg fracture that I see day in and day out.  I’ve only seen about 10 of these so far, and performed surgery on only about half of those.”

 

“Oh.” Roy was uneasy with this information. He wanted someone who knew what they were doing for Johnny. “Only five? What about the other five?”

 

“I know what you’re thinking, Roy.  But when I say these are rare, I mean it.  It is extremely difficult to fracture the glenoid neck. It takes excessive force and a combination of bad luck to make it break.  It’s almost always accompanied with other serious injuries, like your friend’s here.  Each patient I’ve treated had other severe injuries as well.  Three were in car accidents, one was a rock climber and the last was an attempted suicide.”

 

“But the outcome… were they successful?” Roy’s mind was reeling with questions. 

 

I consider the surviving patients a success.  Although one does suffer more disability.”

 

“Surviving patients?”  Roy tried hard not to sound shocked.

 

“Yes, Roy. One patient died as a result of his other injuries, not the shoulder injury.”

 

“You – said disability. There’s a possibility this could disable Johnny? That he couldn’t go back to work?”

 

Briggs and Brackett exchanged looks before Briggs pushed his glasses up his nose again. “Roy, I wish I could make promises.  I can only tell you I will do my best to get your friend back to work. There are risks associated with this procedure, but there are even more risks, I believe, by not treating.”

 

“So not doing surgery is an option?” Roy did not know what to think now. This doctor, as nice as he seemed, was scaring him. 

 

“I wouldn’t consider it an option in this case, Roy. I’ve looked at his x-rays.  His clavicle is fractured midshaft, in two places. It has splintered slightly in one area, and fragments are dangerously close to the brachial plexus.  That’s the group of spinal nerves that run from the lower neck and upper shoulder area. These nerves allow the arm and hand to move and feel things. The clavicle normally protects it.  The glenoid neck also shows a slight displacement that surgery can correct.”

 

“Do you think that Johnny has already damaged these nerves?” Roy felt sweat breaking out on his forehead. The image of someone else sitting next to him in the squad played through his mind.

 

“I can’t say for certain, of course, but judging from the x-rays, I don’t think so. But keeping him still until surgery is vital. Doctor Borchardt did a good job securing the arm, but if he moves wrong those fragments could shift.”

 

“When can you do the surgery?”

 

“I think we better get it done in the morning.  I’ll be here bright and early.”  Briggs opened the chart and peered over his glasses at Brackett. “Thanks for calling me on this one.”

 

“Well you owed me a favor.  I did introduce you to your wife.” Brackett quipped with a rakish grin.

 

“Oh and let me thank you again, Kel.  We’ve been divorced for a year.” Briggs looked over his glasses as he made final notes in the chart with a flourish then snapped it shut. “Thanks so much.”

 

~~~

 

Roy sat in the darkened ICU room contemplating the kindness of his captain. Hank Stanley had called shortly after Briggs had left, and told him that his B-shift counterpart, Dwyer, had come in early to relieve him so that he could remain at the hospital.  He instructed Brice and Robinson to return in the squad.  Roy smiled at the memory.  Gil Robinson had already gained enough insight into Craig Brice over the past few hours that his eyes went wide when Roy had given him the news. 

 

Brice, however, seemed happy to have the time with Gil. “Let’s go, Robinson. I’m sure we have time to review proper IV protocols on the way back to the station.  Once we arrive, we’ll do a thorough reorganization of the drug box.”

 

Taking pity on Gil, Roy had stepped in. “Craig, you will not reorganize the drug box. It’s too late and we’ve all worked a fire. Get back to the station and get some sleep.”

 

“Perhaps you’re right, DeSoto.  But teaching is something that comes naturally to me.  I look forward to the future when headquarters might assign me with a trainee as well.”

 

As Brice walked down the hall, Gil Robinson looked at Roy, eyes still wide in apprehension. “And may God have mercy on that poor soul.”  Gil reluctantly followed Brice with slumped shoulders and a decidedly slower gait than his long legs could normally muster.

 

The evening nurse, Lisa, had come in shortly after that, offering Roy a pair of blue scrubs. “Doctor Brackett’s idea, Roy.  He said you would be spending the night.”

 

Roy reminded himself to thank the ER doctor. ICU rules were usually very strict, but Brackett was just as concerned as Roy that Johnny should remain calm and quiet.  Even with an ICU nurse coming in on frequent rounds, having Roy at bedside made them both feel better.

 

He was shifting in the vinyl chair trying to find a comfortable position when he heard Johnny’s breathing change.  It was not much at first, but he could detect a slight hitch when his friend inhaled, as though he was finding his way out of sleep and awakening to pain.

 

Johnny’s head shifted on the pillow slightly, causing a wince.  “Mmmmm…”

 

Roy waited silently, hoping to see Johnny drift back into sleep.  Instead, Johnny licked his dry lips and took a deeper breath causing a weak, faint moan to escape. Roy could see that Johnny would not be dropping back into slumber, so he rested his hand gently on his right shoulder and spoke gently. “Easy, Johnny.”  With his other hand, he pressed the button on the call light.

 

“Unnnnh… R-roy?” Johnny’s head turned minutely towards Roy, but his eyes did not open.

 

“Right here, Johnny. Go back to sleep. You’re going to be fine.”  Roy patted the shoulder softly.

 

“Ummm. Where… we goin’?  Gotta’ call?”  His head moved back and forth slowly as he tried to make sense of the movement he was feeling.

 

“No, Partner. You’re at Rampart.” Roy watched Johnny try to open his eyes. 

 

It was a huge effort and the first few tries failed as the heavy lids closed, but the eyes continued to roll underneath. Finally the lids fluttered open and his eyes moved about rhythmically as he tried to focus on the blurry object spinning in front of him. “Stop… stop th’ squad… Roy…”

 

Roy instinctively knew what was going through his friend’s mind and was glad to see Lisa enter the room.  “I think he’s getting nauseous.”

 

Lisa hurried to the bed to collect vitals. “Johnny, do you feel sick?”

 

Johnny’s right hand flew out and hit the metal bed rail. He grasped onto it tightly, trying desperately to halt the ever-increasing motion that came now whether his eyes were open or closed. His oxygen mask fogged as his breathing became rapid and shallow between furious swallows. “Ooooh… nooo…”

 

Lisa moved to Johnny’s side and pulled the oxygen mask off. “Let’s roll him!”

 

Roy helped the nurse roll Johnny to his right side, then grabbed the emesis basin and placed it under Johnny’s mouth, waiting for the dry heaves to abate.

 

Johnny’s eyes were wide with fear as startling pain blazed through his back and shoulder. He released a hoarse, weak cry and gasped, galvanized by the lightning current that seemed to bolt through his body and down his arm. 

 

“I’ve got orders for meperidine and phenergan. I wish I’d gotten here sooner.” Lisa said, upset that her charge had taken this turn before she could medicate him.  She injected both syringes into the rubber IV port. “I have to give Doctor Brackett a call. He wanted to be notified if anything happened.”

 

“Lisa, it’s not your fault. It all happened so fast. It seemed to happen right as he woke up.” Roy replaced the oxygen mask, which quickly became fogged from the rapid breaths that his friend could not seem to control.

 

Johnny continued to writhe on the bed, groaning. Roy held firmly to his right shoulder now, deeply afraid that this ordeal had caused the shards of bone to move and damage the nerves of his brachial plexus.  Johnny panted now and let out a final breathy moan before swallowing hard and relaxing back into drugged slumber.

 

Lisa left to call Brackett after making a final check of vitals.  Roy sat down, feeling a little shaky.  Joe Early had informed him earlier that evening that the results of the EEG were good, and that a severe concussion can cause dizziness and confusion like this. Roy spent the next several minutes taking comfort from the even breaths Johnny took, free of the pain and dizziness that seemed to plague his every waking moment. 

 

Lisa came back in quietly. “Doctor Brackett is on his way in.  He’s ordered x-rays of Johnny’s shoulder again.  He wants to see if those fragments have shifted at all.”

 

It did not surprise Roy that Kelly Brackett would come in now.  It was almost 4:00 a.m. and he knew Brackett would be concerned about this incident. Fifteen minutes later two technicians rolled a portable x-ray unit into the cramped room. He knew he had to step out but was concerned that when the techs positioned Johnny, he might wake up again.  He stationed himself right outside the door so that he could hear any possible sound that might come from his friend.  Thankfully, Johnny remained blissfully unaware and Roy was able to return to the room a short ten minutes later.  He quietly scooted the chair closer to the bed and wove his arm through the bed rail so that he could rest his hand on Johnny’s uninjured shoulder.  As hard as he tried to remain awake and vigilant, the long day caught up with him and he fell into his own light repose.

 

In what seemed like only seconds later, Roy felt a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Roy?” 

 

His eyes flew open and he jerked forward. “Johnny?”

 

“It’s Kel. You don’t look like you got much sleep.” Kel commented with a raised eyebrow, as he paged through Johnny’s chart.

 

Roy looked at his watch and rubbed his eyes. “Oh, about twenty minutes. You got here fast.”

 

“Lots of practice. He’s been quiet?”

 

Roy looked at Johnny’s sleeping form. “Yes. He was really confused, Doc. Thought we were driving in the squad or something.  I could tell he was really dizzy and it hit him really fast.”

 

“I know you’re concerned about that, Roy, and I am, too. But Joe assured me that right now there’s no subdural bleeding. If he hit as hard as you say he did, then, yes, he’s going to have a severe concussion. And if I felt like we had a choice, I’d hold off on this surgery for a couple of days. But one more incident like we just had could cause more problems.” Kel waited a moment until he saw that Roy understood. “I’ve called Briggs and Borchardt, and they’re heading in now.  Borchardt wants to assist.”

 

Roy blinked. “Oh, I thought…” It was not his business so he did not complete the sentence. “Never mind, Doc.”

 

“And I’m going to stand in and observe.” Kel smiled at Roy’s telltale sigh of relief. “It’s going to be valuable to see this procedure for Brian Borchardt and myself. Like Briggs said, this combination of scapula and clavicle fracture is so rare.  I just wish it wasn’t Johnny that had to bring one to us.”

 

Roy rubbed his sore neck. “Yeah, well count on Johnny to be unique.”

 

Kel chuckled. “I’m going to head down to the OR and get the team ready. I’m sure Briggs will be in to see Johnny before he scrubs.”  He paused before heading out the door. “He’ll be fine, Roy. And I want you to get some rest. This could be a long procedure. I don’t know how long for sure, but why don’t you head home. I can call when he’s in recovery.”

 

“No, Doc. I plan on sticking around.”

 

“I figured as much. Then get something to eat and take the couch in my office. And before you say another word, I won’t let you in to see Johnny if you don’t get some rest yourself.  You look awful. I won’t have you getting worn out.”

 

“I won’t, Doc. The couch sounds good.”  He waved as Brackett left then leaned back in the chair.  He knew that Hank Stanley expected a phone call when Johnny came out of surgery.  At that point the captain would inform the rest of the crew and they would all probably arrive together.

 

Twenty minutes later, Mike Briggs arrived, already dressed in scrubs.  His red hair poked out at odd places under the green surgical cap.  “Good morning, Roy. I know we only just met, but let me just say, you look awful.”

 

Roy shrugged. “Yeah, I’ve been told.  How long do you think the surgery will take?”

 

Briggs pushed his glasses up on his nose and thought. “It’s hard to say, Roy. So far each one I’ve done has varied. I know I need to stabilize the clavicle. I’ll use some small plates and screws for that. I won’t know the type of repair for the shoulder blade until I get in there.  The same goes for the tendons and ligaments.  There’s just a lot of looking around I need to do first. And now there’s another problem.” He gestured to the x-ray packet in his hand.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

Briggs pulled out one x-ray and gestured for Roy to come closer.  He held the film up so the overhead light illuminated it.  “There’s one fragment that concerns me.” He pointed to a spot and waited for Roy to see it. “Based on the x-ray, it seems to have moved up very near to the brachial plexus.  But just how close is hard to tell in an x-ray.  It could have happened when Mr. Gage became agitated earlier, but it could have also just drifted there.  No matter how it got there, I am worried about its proximity to that nerve bundle.”

 

“Do you think it’s already caused damage?  Is this going to disable Johnny, Doc?”  Roy gripped the bed rail until his knuckles turned white.

 

“Roy, you know I can’t answer that.” They turned upon hearing the squeaking wheels of a gurney then made room for the orderlies.  “Time to go.  We’ll let you know as soon as we can.”

 

Briggs turned his attention to the orderlies, instructing them where he wanted them to lift Johnny.  The doctor took responsibility for lifting at the shoulder, taking great care to lower him gently.  Lisa had arrived with the orderlies, and busied herself by transferring the IV and catheter bags to the hooks on the gurney.  She covered Johnny’s unconscious form with a blanket then followed the procession out the door, leaving Roy standing alone in the room.

 

~~~

 

After a quick shower in the locker room and clean scrubs, Roy felt refreshed and almost as good as new.  He contemplated heading up to the surgical waiting area, until he passed the nurses’ station and caught Dixie’s eye. “Where do you think you’re going, Roy?”

 

“Hi, Dix. What do you mean?”

 

She sighed dramatically and repeated, “Where do you think you’re going?”

 

Sensing he might not give the answer she was waiting for, he hesitated. “Uh…”

 

“Well, if ‘uh’ means Doctor Brackett’s office, then I’m glad to hear it.  There’s some breakfast in there with your name on it.”

 

“C’mon, Dix. I just wanted to go see if there was any word on Johnny yet.”

 

“You don’t think I know exactly what you’re supposed to be doing?” She raised an eyebrow at the sandy haired paramedic. “Kel told me to make sure you rested, and if that meant tucking you in, to do it.”

 

“Tucking me in? You wouldn’t!”

 

Dixie stood and started to approach Roy, who backed hastily away. “Okay. I’m going. But you’ll let me know when you hear something?”

 

“Of course I will. Now get in there or do you need me to sing you a lullaby?”

 

Roy rolled his eyes and headed to Brackett’s office.  As promised, a breakfast tray sat on the desk.  Realizing he was famished, he ate the lukewarm eggs and toast then laid back on the couch.  The last thought that ran through his mind before sinking into exhausted sleep was that he knew he would never be able to close his eyes.

 

~~~

 

“Roy?” A hand shook his shoulder. “Roy.”

 

Roy’s eyes flew open and he was momentarily confused as to where he was until he looked up at Kelly Brackett. “Oh, hey, Doc? How did it go?” He sat up and rubbed his face.

 

Brackett sat on the edge of his desk, letting Roy get his bearings. “He came through just fine. I left a little early. Mike was still closing.  He’ll be heading to recovery then ICU.  I had them place a NG tube. With the amount of vomiting he’s already had, I didn’t want him stressing his injuries by vomiting after surgery. He never reacts well to anesthesia, so hopefully the NG tube and phenergan will keep that nausea down.”

 

Before Roy could ask another question, Dixie pushed the door open. “Kel, we’ve got a multiple MVA pulling in. Sounds bad.”

 

“Be right there, Dix.” Kel stood up and headed for the door. “Roy, I asked Mike to come down and fill you in.  I’ve got to run.”

 

Roy nodded in understanding and waved his thanks. He looked at his watch.  More than four hours had passed, but he had no idea if that was good or bad.  He heard a knock at the door then saw Chet Kelly pop his head inside.

 

“Hey, Roy, you awake?”

 

“Yeah come in, Chet.”

 

Chet came in followed by Marco who greeted him. “Hi, Roy. What do you hear about Johnny?”

 

“Well Doctor Brackett just came in and said he made it through surgery but he didn’t have time to tell me more than that. The surgeon should be down later to fill me in.”

 

Chet tossed a bag onto the couch next to Roy. “We stopped by your house. Joanne sent some clothes.  Why don’t you go change? Cap and Stoker are on the way.”

 

“Thanks, guys.”

 

~~~

 

Roy arrived in the lounge after changing his clothes, to find his stationmates gathered at the table, all except Chet who was pacing and looking out the window.  The agitated firefighter stopped and placed his hands on his hips when he saw Roy. “Jeez, Roy! How long ‘til this doctors going to get here, huh?  How long have we been waiting?”

 

Captain Stanley looked at his watch as the other men at the table exchanged amused glances. “Only about twenty minutes, Chet. Now quit pacing and sit down.”

 

“I don’t wanna’ sit.” Chet countered, sounding more like a petulant child.

 

Stanley closed his eyes for a long moment and appeared to be silently counting to himself. Through gritted teeth he ground out, “Then stand still for godssake, Chet. You’re already driving me nuts.”

 

Chet huffed and crossed his arms, but leaned against the wall and looked out the window, sulking.

 

The door opened and everyone looked up expectantly.  Gil Robinson entered hesitantly. “Is it okay if I come in?”

 

Roy frowned for a moment. “Well of course, Gil. Come in.  We’re waiting for the surgeon. Johnny’s out of surgery and in recovery.”

 

Gil moved into the room and stationed himself near the door.  Although each member of Station 51 had greeted him with a warm chorus of “Hey, Gil’s” he responded with a quick nod and remained awkwardly silent.

 

Captain Stanley exchanged a puzzled look with Roy, who gave him a nod and a shrug, conveying what the leader already suspected.

 

Chet, however, was one step ahead. “Hey, Gil. That was some job on the ropes yesterday.”

 

Gil looked up suddenly. “What?”  He did not know Chet well, but had already learned that the man had a slapstick sense of humor along with a fiery temper.  He was deeply loyal to his friends, one of whom was Johnny, but Gil sensed no one would ever hear him admit it.  So Gil was not sure what Chet was getting at.

 

“Yeah, man. I mean you looked like Spider-man out there.” Chet’s mustache twitched up on the left side and he smoothed the course hairs to hide his smile.

 

“Spider-man?” Gil asked incredulously.

 

“Leave it to Chet to compare Gil to a comic book character.” Cap snorted, but his eyes glinted with barely contained laughter. He saw Roy grinning, as Mike and Marco smiled behind their coffee cups.

 

“Well, you know how it was. Poor Johnny was all wound up, sorta’ like a fly stuck in a web. You shoulda’ seen him up there!” Chet pantomimed Gil’s rescue as he described it. “That wasn’t easy getting out there without swinging into him! He just glided right over there and Johnny didn’t even feel it.”

 

“Well of course he didn’t feel it, you twit! He was unconscious!” Cap winked at Roy as they watched the interaction.

 

“Not for long, Cap.” Chet’s impish smile faded when he added seriously, “Gil did a real fine job. Those ropes were hopeless, man. There was no way he could have gotten Johnny out of them up there.”

 

Gil smiled and acknowledged the nods of agreement from the men in the room. The weight he carried on his shoulders, and the knot that had twisted his stomach relaxed and faded away, replaced by a sense of acceptance that he had sought since entering the paramedic program.

 

“Well, thanks, Chet,” Gil smirked. “I guess a comparison to Spider-man, coming from you, is high praise.”

 

“Better believe it.”

 

The men chuckled and Gil stepped closer, feeling comfortable now amongst them.  He accepted the cup of coffee Roy handed him and they all continued to wait in companionable silence.

 

The door opened and Mike Briggs stepped in, momentarily surprised by the number of men in the room. Roy quickly introduced his friends and waited as patiently as possible for the doctor to get himself a cup of coffee.  He leaned back against the counter after turning to face the group.  He ran his fingers through the unruly red locks of hair.

 

“I usually don’t have a flair for the dramatic.  But I will tell you that Mr. Gage is one heck of a lucky guy. A couple of centimeters more and I’d be standing here with bad news.  I was able to remove the bone fragment that rested on the brachial plexus.  It may cause a few days of nerve irritation and a certain degree of numbness from the pressure but it did not sever or damage the nerves there.”

 

“So he should recover completely?” Roy asked pointedly.  When the redheaded doctor did not immediately answer, Roy became alarmed. “Doc! What are you getting at?  You just said-”

 

“Briggs held up a hand. “I know what I said, Roy. But listen. As I told you, this is a pretty rare injury. Every person I’ve treated has reacted differently.  Some recover more slowly than others.  Overall each person’s recovery went very well, but I did mention that one did not return to full function, and the cause of that was related to damage to the brachial plexus.”

 

“But you said Johnny’s wasn’t damaged! Is it or isn’t it?” Roy was losing his patience. He was starting to wonder if the doctor was dancing around the truth.

 

Chet chimed in, picking up on Roy’s irritability and worry. “Yeah, Doc, c’mon. How bad is it?”

 

The doctor held up both hands now as if warding off any further questions. “Let me explain something. Mr. Gage has two fractures. The clavicle in front,” he gestured to his own body, “and the glenoid neck of his shoulder blade. He had some torn ligaments and a detached tendon as well, which I repaired.  Try to imagine then, that there was nothing supporting the shoulder girdle – nothing giving it stability.  That’s an area of complex anatomy. Bones, nerves, muscles and tendons all joined closely together in order for the arm to have full mobility.  It’s not something that’s clear cut.  We have to wait and see. I’m sure Mr. Gage will have a few months of intensive therapy ahead of him. That’s when we’ll know.”

 

Roy nodded reluctantly, understanding that the doctor could not give guarantees.

 

Briggs swallowed the last of his coffee in a gulp. “Roy, Brackett would like you sitting with Mr. Gage for awhile, especially as he comes up from anesthesia. The rest of you should be able to see him later. He’ll be back in Surgical ICU in a couple of hours. I’ll check on him later.”

He placed his cup in the sink and turned to shake Roy’s hand, then waved silently to the rest of the room and headed out the door.

 

“Where’d Brackett find that crackerjack?” Chet quipped sarcastically.

 

“Chet!” Stanley warned. “I know we all wanted to hear him assure us that John would be a hundred percent, but he couldn’t do that.  I don’t think any of us realized the seriousness of John’s injury.”  He looked at Roy. “Why don’t you head up there and see him? We can come back later.” He stood and clapped his hands together, habitually taking charge of the room. “If anyone else wants to go for a late breakfast, I’m buying.”

 

 Mike and Marco smiled and nodded, but Chet frowned and turned to the window. “I’m not hungry. You guys go ahead. I’ll wait here.”

 

The men in the room exchanged knowing looks.  Roy quietly gestured for them to wait outside the lounge so he could talk to Chet.  They all knew that Chet would rather stay and worry now, although there would be no one with him – not a good thing.  Chet Kelly, although an independent spirit, needed reined in when his emotions got the best of him.

 

Roy sighed and walked to the window.  “Chet?  He’s going to be okay.”

 

“How do you know that, Roy? If that crackerjack of a doctor is supposed to be an expert, and he can’t give you a straight answer, then how can you say that?” Chet frowned and averted his gaze from Roy, choosing instead to focus on the parking lot outside the window.

 

Roy sighed once more. “Because he has to be, Chet. I can’t think of it any other way.”

 

Chet stole a glance at Roy, his eyes softening when he saw the look of loyal resolve in the sandy-haired paramedic’s eyes. “Yeah, I know. Sorry, Roy.  I don’t take to this hospital stuff too well.”

 

“Then go with Cap and the guys, and when you come back, you’ll be the first one in. Promise.”

 

Chet’s mustache twitched as he thought then finally nodded, letting Roy guide him to the door.

 

~~~

 

Roy entered the recovery room quietly.  A nurse pointed him to the curtained area where he found Johnny swaddled in thick white wrappings that once again held his left arm tightly against his body.  The left forearm had been casted, and it stuck out underneath the wrappings, resting on a pillow.  His body seemed surrounded by pillows – one under his shoulder, another placed under his knee and one against the fractured ribs on his left side.  The sheet was pulled down to his hips, and although most of his upper torso was wrapped, Roy could see marked bruising peeking out under the swath of bandages along the left side of his body.  The wires from the EKG leads disappeared under the bandaged chest, and an NG tube snaked from his nose to the suction bottle attached to the wall.  His right arm rested limply on the bed and several IV bags hung above him.  Johnny’s face was slack in sleep, but the bruised and swollen eye and cheekbone looked painful.

 

After a quick look at the chart, Roy was satisfied that Johnny was comfortable.  He sat in the chair next to the bed, content to wait for his friend to be moved to ICU.  He hoped Johnny would be more aware than he had been last night, when he seemed to think he was still dangling by his rope and lifebelt, waiting for rescue.

 

An hour ticked by and Johnny had not roused during any of the quick visits by the nurse. After her last vitals check, she left with a quick comment to call if he needed anything.  Roy saw Johnny’s eyebrows furrow as he stirred.

 

Water. It was the first thing that entered his thoughts when he became aware of his brutally sore throat.  He swallowed then aborted the attempt and gagged instead against the tube in the back of his throat. He moaned softly, wishing there were a way to go back to the dark, quiet place where he had just been.  He could not make sense of the growing sensations making their way to his brain. He heard a voice, and turned his head, groaning at the immediate slice of pain that tore through his skull.  As it subsided slightly, a new sensation took over.  His whole body started a slow steady rotation, and he wondered where he could possibly be that would make him turn in circles like this.  Images of blue sky turning to black pavement swirled with the movement, giving it color and substance. 

 

Roy saw the moment the dizziness started with Johnny.  Although his friend’s lids remained closed, his eyes started to move under them, rhythmically following the spinning Roy knew was there. “Easy, Johnny. Try some water.”  He touched the straw to the cracked lips, but Johnny did not seem to recognize what he needed to do.  Roy took the straw out of the cup and wet his friend’s lip with the end of it, hoping the feeling would stimulate him to sip. Lips slowly sealed around the straw and he saw water being pulled in.  After a short sip, Johnny released the straw, seeming exhausted by the small effort, and then winced against the pain as the water tracked down the sore dry passage.  “I know your throat’s sore, and you have a NG tube. Just take it easy.”

 

Johnny’s right hand suddenly flexed on the mattress, and he gasped, trying to still the spinning.

“Nooo… head hurts….”

 

Roy placed his hand over Johnny’s right hand and patted it, hoping to get him to relax. “Johnny, you just had surgery on your shoulder, and you’re in recovery.”  Roy frowned when he got no response.  Johnny still did not seem to know he was there.  The beeps from the heart monitor increased in frequency, and Roy hoped it meant Johnny was waking, but he was more inclined to believe that it was his reaction to pain.

 

“Hey, Roy, how’s our boy doing?” Mike Briggs strode into the recovery area and pulled open the chart.

 

“He’s waking up…. I think.”

 

“You think?” Briggs frowned and peered over his glasses at the restless form in the bed.

 

Johnny’s right arm started to jerk at intervals, bracing himself against the spinning only he could feel.  His right leg jerked as if to catch himself from falling.  His breathing increased and a soft moan escaped, then he swallowed hard and winced. “Falling… Roy…” His whole body jolted as he tried to stop the powerful sensation.  “Unnnh…” A deep groan escaped, and Johnny moved again more restlessly, trying to find escape from the pain that accompanied his every movement and breath.

 

Roy moved his hand under Johnny’s palm and took hold, squeezing, as if could prevent Johnny’s fall just by gripping the hand that groped the bed. “You’re not falling now. I’ve got you.”  He was gratified to feel Johnny close his hand weakly around his.

 

Briggs continued to frown and moved to the other side of the bed, where he listened to Johnny’s heart and lungs.  “Mr. Gage? I want you to open your eyes for me. Can you do that for me? Then I’ll let you go back to sleep.”

 

Johnny’s only response was to lick his dry lips and swallow hard again against the pain and reeling in his head.  His face contorted into a grimace and he groaned. “…S-ssstop…”

 

Briggs briefly inspected the wrappings and palpated Johnny’s shoulder, then rested his hands on the bed rail and looked over his glasses at Roy, heaving a sigh. “I think that’s all we’re going to get from him.  I’m going to go ahead and order some meperidine. His head injury is going to prevent him from resting if I don’t.”  He pushed the glasses up to the bridge of his nose. “He can go ahead and transfer to ICU, and I’ll ask Joe Early to check on him later.”

 

“Okay. Thanks, Doctor Briggs.” Roy was happy to hear his friend would soon get some relief from the pain that was so evidently overwhelming him.  He continued to pat Johnny’s right shoulder, hoping that it provided some semblance of comfort.  Johnny did not seem to know he was there and just continued to grasp at the mattress while occasional soft moans escaped. The nurse came in and injected the medication, which soon relaxed the rigid muscles, finally quieted the moans and smoothed the lines of stress from his forehead.

 

~~~

 

 

Dreams of sky and pavement, spinning, always spinning, pulled Johnny out of the comfortable place where he floated. Rousing now from sleep, he took a ragged breath, and quickly regretted it, releasing a breathy moan.  His right hand traveled a shaky path up his abdomen to his left side, and found one cause of this torture. Painfully sore ribs and bruised flesh, although protected by thick bandages, still barely allowed his touch.  His shaky hand moved on, finding the casted left arm.

 

Roy watched Johnny’s wayward hand roam the bandages on his body, and allowed it, knowing this was his friend’s journey back to awareness, and he needed to take it slowly, letting him absorb as much about what was going on with his body as he could before the questions started.

 

Kelly Brackett came in the room and almost spoke until he saw Roy nod at him and look at Johnny.  He understood immediately what Roy was doing. He stood at the foot of the bed and also watched Johnny as he struggled towards awareness.  As much as he needed to examine the injured paramedic, it was important, also, to observe this effort to wake independently.

 

Johnny’s hand stalled, resting on his abdomen. He swallowed hard and grimaced against the dry throat and invasive tube.  What the hell happened to me? He tried to think, but recognized only murky images that spun in fast circles.  His head throbbed, but so did his face, and he lifted his hand intending to investigate further, but something pulled his arm down.  He thought he heard the word “IV”, but it could have just been more of the noises that swirled inside the never-ending rotations of this strange place.

 

“Mmmm…” Johnny licked his lips and tried moving his head into a more comfortable position, but stopped when a sharp stabbing pain traveled through his eyes to the back of his head. “Oooh… damn…”  Aches and pains were coming from everywhere now, and he felt sudden panic at the messages they sent.  He could not focus on where one started and another began. It was just one solid, throbbing ache, interspersed with sharp electric jolts. 

 

Roy and Brackett watched as Johnny moved more, letting his good leg stretch and then pull up. It was when Johnny tried to roll to the side that they laid firm hands on him.  Roy knew from experience that pulling the legs up relieved the pull of sore muscles in the abdomen and chest, which must be causing Johnny horrible pain right now. He was sure his friend was trying to roll into a fetal position to relieve the pain in his ribs and chest, but allowing any kind of movement right now would only aggravate things.

 

“Johnny. Don’t move now.”

 

Was that Roy? It was. “Roy?”

 

“Yeah, it’s me. Stay still.  You hurting?”

 

“Umm… you ‘kay?”

 

“Yes, it’s you that was hurt, Partner.” Roy was glad to hear his friend respond but noticed that Johnny seemed to have no intention of opening his eyes.

 

“Wha’ happened?” 

 

Roy rested his arm on the bed next to Johnny’s when he was sure his friend would not try to move again. “Tell me what you remember.”

 

Johnny groaned. He did not want to think and the images moving in his head made no sense.

 

“Mmm… Fire?”

 

Roy grinned despite his concern. “If you don’t know, don’t guess.”

 

“’Kay… wha’ happened?”  Johnny’s hand moved slightly and felt the warmth of Roy’s arm next to his.  He reached over and grasped his friend’s forearm, needing some assurance that this was not some dream, and that his brain had not manufactured Roy’s presence simply from the powerful need to have him there.

 

“We were on a rescue at Queen’s Park. You had a fall, but your lifebelt caught you. Do you remember that?”

 

“Park? Unh… no…” Johnny swallowed hard again, and was relieved to feel a wet straw on his lips. He pulled the cold water in, letting it soothe his sore throat. “Um,  Chris… Jen… okay?”

 

Roy sighed. Johnny did not remember the fall, but was most likely guessing that he had been to the amusement park with his family, as they had done only a month ago.  “The kids are fine, Johnny. It was at work – you were hurt on a rescue at the park.”

 

“Park? Roy… what happened?” Johnny’s face grimaced in frustration and pain.

 

Roy looked at Brackett for some help.  He was discouraged that Johnny was not remembering and that he did not seem to retain what he was told.

 

Kelly Brackett came to the edge of the bed and lowered the rail on Johnny’s left side. “Johnny, it’s Kel. I need to examine you now. Do you hear me?”  Johnny seemed to nod, but said nothing. “Can you tell me what hurts?”

 

“Doc?”

 

“Right here, Johnny.” Kel placed the stethoscope in his ears and listened to Johnny’s heart and lungs then moved the sheet down to his hips and listened to the quadrants on his abdomen.  Hands palpated different areas of the abdomen and got no reaction from Johnny.  Kel continued the exam, stopping to press on the fingernails of Johnny’s left casted hand, satisfied to see the color return briskly. “How does your arm feel, Johnny?”

 

“Arm? Doc… Roy’s… okay? He… fell… fire.”

 

Brackett’s mouth twitched and he glanced up at Roy, giving him a quick smile. “Johnny, Roy’s fine. He wasn’t hurt. You had a fall, but you’re at Rampart now getting better.”  Kel knew that Johnny was trying hard now to put the pieces together, by combining words he had just been told, even though they were not in the right order yet. Trying to get Roy to understand this as something encouraging might take some work.

 

“I’m going to take a look at your eyes, Johnny.” Kel pulled Johnny’s right eyelid back and flicked the penlight at Johnny’s pupil eliciting a gasp.  The paramedic’s arm flew up with amazing speed, and pushed the doctor’s hand away.

 

“Ah! Ssstop…”

 

“I’m sorry, Johnny. One more.” He nodded to Roy who held down the errant arm.  He lifted the left eyelid and flicked the penlight once more, which made Johnny hiss and draw his head back into the pillow.

 

The light felt like a sharp dagger had been thrust through his skull, and suddenly the images in his mind that had been only slowly rotating, resumed their dizzying spin. “Ah, god, oh god…”  He felt nauseous and was sure he would vomit, but something in the back of his mind made him think it would not happen. NG tube? Regardless of the tube’s presence it did nothing to ally the fierce nausea that claimed him.  “Sick…” He gagged against the tube, but did not vomit.  “Unnnh… Roy… stop now…”

 

Brackett touched Johnny’s bandaged head and peeked under the dressing. “I’m going to get some more phenergan in him as well as some pain medication and let him sleep now.”

 

Roy frowned. “Doc, when do you think he’ll come around? He’s still so confused.”

 

Kel shrugged and put his stethoscope into his lab coat pocket.  “It’s hard to say, Roy. He is putting some things together, but it’s going to take time. His injuries just complicate things. With the severe concussion, and dizziness, it makes it harder for him to sort out what’s hurting.  I guess you might say it’s like sensory overload. We can’t let it catch up with him too fast.  Let him sleep and heal, and I think we’ll see things clear up for him soon.”

 

“And what about his shoulder and arm? He hasn’t moved his fingers yet.”

 

“I know, but he has good capillary refill. He hasn’t been awake enough to follow commands, Roy. Let’s try next time.”

 

“Yeah.” Roy nodded reluctantly, rubbing his eyes.

 

“After he gets these meds he’s going to sleep for the next six hours or so, Roy. I want you to go home and not come back for at least eight hours.  You need to rest, too.”

 

Roy begrudgingly acknowledged that this was true. The time spent on Kel’s couch and the uncomfortable chair, made him long for the soft mattress of his own bed.  “Is it okay if I get one of the guys to sit with him? I’d like someone to be here if he gets dizzy again or confused.”

 

“Sure, Roy.”

 

Roy smiled and stood, stretching his back. “Great. I’ve got just the man for the job.”

 

~~~

 

“Jeez, Roy, when’s he gonna’ wake up?” That was the greeting Roy got when he returned to the hospital, after several hours of uninterrupted sleep in his own bed.

 

“Chet, I told you that Doctor Brackett thought he’d sleep for at least six hours.  And he needs the sleep.”

 

“I know, but man, all he does is groan and the nurse is getting mad at me because every time he does that I’m thinking he’s hurting and needs something. She says it normal for him to be feeling pain like this.  How can that be normal, Roy? He shouldn’t be hurting if he’s sleeping.”

 

Roy did not like hearing that Johnny was hurting while he slept either, but he at least understood it. Chet, on the other hand, was letting his sympathy and affection for Johnny peek out with this concern.  He would certainly have to make some apologies to the nurses later.

 

“At least he’s getting the rest he needs.  If you want to take off, Chet, go ahead. I’ll be here for the night.”

 

“Guess I should go.” Chet paused and looked at Johnny for a moment. “So that crackerjack doctor thinks Johnny’s arm’s gonna be okay?”

 

“Well, he thinks so. But he hasn’t seen very many of these kinds of fractures. We just have to let Johnny have some time to heal and do therapy.”

 

Chet snorted. “Yeah. Leave it to Gage to come up with something unique. Wonder how long he’ll be out.” Chet shoved his hands into the front pockets of his brown corduroys.

 

Roy suppressed a grin. Chet was already missing Johnny.  Heaven help whoever replaced him at the station while he was recovering.  Chet would make his time at 51’s memorable.

 

“The guys stopped in earlier, but Gage just groaned and slept, so they left.”

 

Roy smiled at Chet’s interpretation, but was happy to hear that his stationmates had stopped in. “Thanks for staying with him.”

 

“No problem, Roy. Take it easy.”

 

As Roy set the books and magazines he had brought with him on the nightstand, he did not miss Chet as he brushed his hand along Johnny’s right foot, then tapped it in a silent goodbye before walking out the door.  I have got to stop trying to figure him out.

 

~~~

 

Doctor Briggs paid Johnny one last visit that evening, and Rampart’s orthopedic surgeon, Doctor Brian Borchardt, tagged along.  Briggs’ glasses were at the end of his nose again as he looked over the chart. Borchardt moved to Johnny’s side and listened to his heart and lungs, before he started lifting the dressings to check sutures.

 

Briggs replaced the chart and pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose. “How’s he been, Roy?”

 

“Well, earlier today he woke up with quite a bit of pain. He was still very dizzy and nauseous. He wasn’t able to make sense of anything yet – just still really confused, but he did try to talk to us. We couldn’t get him to tell us how his shoulder felt, though.”

 

“That’s progress, anyway.  That head injury will slow him down a little, but you know, like I said before, every one of these shoulder injuries I’ve seen have always had other severe injuries that go along with it. High energy trauma is about the only thing that can break a scapula, so other injuries are usually a given.”  He looked at Borchardt, then at the sleeping form in the bed. “I really hate to do this, Roy, but I need to try and wake him to see if we can get him to move his fingers. This is about the best time to try because he’s about due for more medication.”

 

“Let me try for you first, okay?” Roy asked Briggs, who nodded his consent. Roy stood and took Johnny’s right hand in his. “Hey, Johnny. Time to wake up.” He patted the hand firmly, and rubbed it.  Johnny’s eyes clenched shut and relaxed again back into sleep.  Roy then patted the right shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Johnny, time to wake up! The doctor wants to check you over.”

 

Roy’s persistence finally paid off, as Johnny let out a groan of irritation at being wakened. “Come on, Johnny. The doctor’s here to see you.”

 

Briggs moved up to the left side of the bed near Borchardt. “Mr. Gage, I’m Doctor Briggs. Can you hear me?”  The three men watched, as Johnny seemed to be trying to make sense of his surroundings. His eyes had not opened yet, but his head turned slowly towards the doctor’s voice and his breathing rate increased.  “Open your eyes, Mr. Gage.”

 

Johnny let out a sigh of exasperation. His eyes flicked open but as light from the room hit his pupils, his head pulsed with a sharp pain and he clamped them shut again.  “Ummm, head hurz’… damn… light…”

 

Briggs nodded at Roy, who quickly turned off the room light, leaving only the soft nightstand lamp illuminating the room.  “The light’s off now, Mr. Gage. Open your eyes, please.”

 

Johnny did not seem to have any intention of trying again until he heard Roy’s insistent voice. “Come on, Junior, you need to wake up.”

 

Heavy eyelids lifted, squinting cautiously as if waiting to be assaulted again by bright, painful light. “Roy?”

 

“Yeah, Johnny. I’m here. How’re you feeling?”

 

“Head hurts…” Johnny swallowed against the intensely dry throat. The NG tube combined with the nasal cannula supplying oxygen served to make his throat feel like course sandpaper.  Then magically, a straw touched his lips and he sipped at the cool fluid, feeling the moisture provide a measure of relief.

 

Mike Briggs leaned on the bed rail, trying to get within Johnny’s line of sight. “Mr. Gage, I’m Doctor Briggs. I did some work on your shoulder. Can you tell me how it feels?”

 

Johnny blinked at the doctor then tried to think. “Sh-shoulder?” Confused now, his eyes roamed the room, and rested on the blurry image of his friend. “Roy? What…?”

 

Roy patted his friend’s right shoulder.  “Johnny, you had an accident and you’re at Rampart. I’ll tell you all about it, but right now listen to the doctor.”

 

Johnny seemed satisfied, and once again turned his eyes back to the patiently waiting physician.

He focused his attention on his body now and tried to sort out the myriad pains and where they came from.  Yes, that damn shoulder. It seemed to be the cause of most of the pain that now throbbed and pulsed in time to his rapidly increasing heartbeat.   He lifted his right hand wanting to feel for what could possibly be causing so much pain, but the doctor grabbed the hand and pushed it to his lap.  He sensed everyone was waiting for his answer, but his muddy brain still tried to sort the words he needed.

 

“Mmmm. Know it hurts…” was all he could manage.

 

“That’s a fair start,” Briggs smiled. “We’ll get you something for that in a little bit. I need you to move the fingers of your left hand.”  He touched the fingers to encourage the movement.

 

The command took a few moments to register with Johnny, but he made the effort.  His index and middle fingers rose slightly, and he winced then gasped as he tried to move them again.

 

“Good. How does that feel, Mr. Gage?”

 

“Hurts like hell… from shoulder…down to fingers…” Johnny swallowed hard, trying to make sense of the new sharp stabbing sensation in his shoulder. “Ah, man… wha’ happened?”

 

“Is there any numbness or tingling?” Briggs tried to bring Johnny’s focus back to him.

 

“Fingers feel… like they’ve… been asleep… tingles…” Now his shoulder was his entire focus, and he groaned at the pulling sensation he felt in his back.  “Oh... god… back hurts…” This new sensation could not be ignored now as he felt a powerful tightening in his back that threatened to pull a scream from his tender throat.  His breathing became rapid as he fought for control.

 

Briggs slid his hand beneath Johnny’s left shoulder.  “His muscle is contracting. Roy, get the nurse, please.” 

 

Roy stepped out and quickly motioned for the nurse at the desk.  She arrived in moments and waited for the doctor’s instructions.  Briggs quickly rattled off a medication and dosage, which she rushed out to get.

 

“I’ll start a muscle relaxant and that should keep these spasms a bit more manageable. It’s completely normal, Mr. Gage.  You had some tendon and ligament damage that I repaired.  That’s their way of healing right now, as they get settled back into doing their job.”

 

Johnny only heard snippets of the doctor’s words. ‘Tendons’… ‘ligaments’… ‘spasms’… ‘normal’.  Normal?  “Damn…” His back seemed to be one gigantic knot that just kept squeezing, and soon it felt as if there was no air – no ability to pull it into his lungs. Tears stung his eyes, and he was briefly ashamed as they rolled down his cheeks in front of these men.

 

Roy held onto Johnny’s hand as his friend’s body arched off the bed and let out a cry. 

 

Doctor Borchardt, who had been quiet throughout this visit, reached for the bed control. “I think it would help if we raised the head of the bed.” He pushed the control and Johnny’s head was raised.  The nurse came in and wasted no time in injecting the contents of the syringe into the rubber IV port.  Everyone remained silent, waiting as Johnny’s gasps and rapid breathing gradually slowed.  He let out one long groan as the contracting muscle loosened, causing another variety of pain to ripple through his back, before completely relaxing and giving blessed relief.

 

Roy released the breath he did not know he was holding, and looked at Johnny, feeling relief himself that his friend seemed more relaxed now, although his face still looked pinched with pain.

 

Briggs pushed his glasses up on his nose again and spoke to the nurse. “Go ahead and administer his pain medication now, too.” He paused and looked at Johnny. “I’m sorry about that, Mr. Gage. You’ll be feeling better very soon.  Doctor Borchardt will be taking over your recovery. I’ll come back in a couple of days to check on you.”

 

Johnny’s eyebrows rose, and his eyes opened. “B-Borchardt?  Did Dixie’s ankle…”

 

Brian Borchardt grinned. “That’s right, Johnny. And I did your leg after that little spill down a staircase.  I don’t give discounts for frequent flyers, you know?”

 

“’Kay, Doc…” Johnny sensed a joke there, but could not really focus on it.

 

Mike Briggs made some final notes in the chart then peered over the glasses that had once again slipped to the very end of his nose.  “The tingling is normal, Roy. If he had mentioned numbness, I would have been worried about that bone fragment causing some damage. I believe it did cause some nerve irritation to his brachial plexus, but nothing that should be long term.  It may continue for weeks and not really resolve completely until he’s had time to work it out with some therapy. But all in all, he’s a very lucky man.”

 

“Don’ feel… lucky…” Johnny slurred.

 

Roy smiled. He did not think Johnny was aware of the conversation going on around him.  He was pleased that Johnny was still paying attention.

 

The two doctors soon left, allowing Roy to sit in the chair next to bed. He scooted it closer and rested his hand on Johnny’s forearm. His friend’s eyes were closed, but he could see them moving beneath the lids. “Johnny? Are you still dizzy?”

 

“Mmmm… yeah… Roy… please…” Johnny was tired and unable to finish the question, but hoped Roy would understand.

 

“Okay. What happened?” Roy waited for Johnny’s almost imperceptible nod. He seriously wondered if his partner would remember what he told him later but he understood Johnny’s need to know. “We were at a rescue at Queen’s Park. Do you remember that?”  Johnny gave his head a tiny shake.  “We had Gil with us. One of the rides, the ‘Sky Ride’ had stalled and there were three people trapped.  There was a man inside having a heart attack.  You and Gil got him squared away and Gil followed him to the ground, then I went down to help while you stayed with the two ladies still trapped in the ride. At this point no one knows what happened. We’re all hoping you’d remember and could tell us.  Somehow you fell out of the basket.  Your rope caught you, but… it was a hard fall, Johnny. You busted three of your ribs.” Roy swallowed hard, still affected by the memory of his partner’s body jolting to a hard stop before swinging with such force into the metal tower that the hollow sound seemed to reverberate. “Then you swung over and collided with the metal tower there.  That’s how you hurt your shoulder and arm… and knee.” Roy paused, waiting for that information to sink in.

 

Johnny did not remember going to the park.  Roy’s words started swirling in with the motion of his head spinning, and he briefly thought that this is what it must feel like to be inside one of those big dryers at the Laundromat.  He could never watch his clothes spin in them for too long before it gave him an odd feeling in his stomach.  But here he was, certain he knew what it must feel like to be inside one.  Images flashed through his mind – blue sky and pavement, always spinning. 

 

Then suddenly there was just the faintest image of a face – a woman’s face, shocked and terrified.  He groaned, mostly from the increasing pain that throbbed through his body, but also from the emotions he associated with that face. An emotion he did not feel very often washed over him and pulled a moan from his throat. Fear. Deep, unabashed Fear.  Fear that laid him open and pulled breath from his chest.  It was his fear, yet it seemed to be hers, too. It settled in his chest and he found he could not breathe well.  Panic rode with the fear now and he was dizzier than before. Spots danced in front of his eyes and he reached out frantically groping for something solid to hold onto, something to steady him.  Instead, it found him and grasped his hand firmly.

 

“Johnny! What’s wrong?” Roy was alarmed at the rapid change in his friend. One minute he seemed groggy and ready to drift off to sleep, and the next he groaned and gasped for air, hyperventilating and breaking into a sweat, as he pulled his right leg up on the bed, arching his back.  “Johnny!” Roy pushed the call light, then grabbed hold of his friend’s right hand that reached out into the air, seeking.

 

Seconds later, Joe Early strode through the door. He had been only a few yards away when the call light started blinking above the door.  He entered to see Roy grasping Johnny’s hand and the young paramedic in very real distress.  The nurse followed him in and rushed to the bed taking vitals.

 

“What happened, Roy?” Joe did a quick review of the heart monitor, noting the rapid beat that almost matched the shallow respirations.

 

“I – I’m not sure. One minute we were talking – he wanted to know what happened. I could tell that he was starting to hurt and getting dizzier, but then he groaned and started breathing really fast.”

 

Joe bent down and touched Johnny’s right shoulder firmly. “Johnny? It’s Joe Early. Listen to me. You need to tell me what’s wrong.”

 

“Head… spinning, doc… feel sick…” Johnny winced as Joe’s hand probed his tender ribs.  “Hard to breathe…”

 

As Joe replaced the nasal cannula with the oxygen mask, he ordered several medications, which caused the nurse to scurry out the door.  “I’m going to have you feeling better in a minute, John. Try taking some slow breaths.”

 

Johnny barely heard him, but he tried to listen and obey.  There was just too much going on right now. Spots of light danced in his head and all he felt was such overwhelming pain and loss of air.  “Can’t breathe…”

 

Joe adjusted the oxygen setting then listened to the young man’s lungs. The nurse entered with two different syringes, and made quick work of injecting them.  Johnny’s features quickly went slack and his breathing eased.  The right leg, which had been pulled up on the bed, sagged, and Roy straightened it out and covered him.

 

Roy waited patiently as Joe continued to listen to Johnny’s chest.  Finally the doctor pulled the stethoscope from his ears, looked down at Johnny and shook his head. “He sure knows how to keep everyone on their toes.” He looked up at Roy. “I think we’re seeing some effects of the lung contusion now. I’m hearing some rales there.  I’ve ordered some medication to help with that, and we’ll get another chest x-ray quickly to keep an eye on the damage.  The increased oxygen therapy and diazepam should keep him calm while this works itself out.”

 

The senior paramedic rubbed his face. “One second he seemed fine and the next I thought he was going to crawl out of the bed.”

 

Joe smiled and made quick notes in the chart.  “I believe it, Roy.  Panic sets in quickly with that sensation of not getting enough air. But I think this should pass. I’ll check in on him later.” The doctor waved and left the room.

 

Once again Roy sunk heavily into the chair, exhausted now himself from what he had just witnessed. “Jeez, Johnny…”

 

 

Part 2