Surviving
By Audrey W.
December 7th
Roy DeSoto took a quick glance at his partner John Gage as they hurried to a rescue in their squad. It was a week after Thanksgiving, and the two paramedics from Station 51’s A-shift were on duty after having a much needed two-day break.
“Well, it’s not even the biggest shopping day of the year and we’re already being called to an incident at a store at nine o’clock in the morning,” Johnny commented. “That’s not a good sign.”
“People get more aggressive every year.”
“And for what? To save a few dollars? Or buy the latest and greatest toy on the market before the next guy does? You know, on the way in this morning, I saw a lady make a left turn around the car that was in front of her. . .as soon as the light turned green she just zipped right around it. Probably so she could get to a sale a minute or two sooner. She’s lucky the other driver hit the brakes right away.”
Roy nodded as he brought the truck to a stop in front of ‘Wiley’s Wonder World of Toys’, where a man in a big foam rubber Christmas tree costume had waved them over. “Well, no one can say he’s a few branches short of a full tree.”
Johnny groaned at the remark as he opened the passenger side door and climbed out. The two men hurried to retrieve their equipment from the side compartments of the squad, while the Christmas tree filled them in.
“It’s one of my employees. We had people waiting outside for us to open for a special sale. . .a real long line. . .and so we opened a few minutes early and all of a sudden the line turned to a crowd; one massive crowd pushing their way in. One of my girls went down and got stepped on.”
Johnny shook his head in disbelief and the two paramedics followed the man into the toy store.
~*~*~
When they got inside, there was a young man dressed in a foam rubber gingerbread suit trying to keep a group of shoppers under control as they grabbed for various marked-down toys that were on displays placed in a front section of the store. Further back were aisles filled with more shoppers searching for additional bargains on the shelves.
Just to the right of the entrance was an older lady, an empty foam rubber Christmas package costume beside her. She was leaning over the injured employee, a young woman in a candy cane made of the same substance as the other costumes. Across the room were two additional employees, but only in standard holiday dresses. They were working the cash registers as eager consumers began to gather to pay for toys already selected.
Johnny and Roy knelt down beside the human candy cane. The woman next to her stood up and stepped back.
“She got the wind knocked out of her,” she explained.
Roy nodded in acknowledgement. He checked the victim’s respirations and then her pulse.
“What’s her name?” Johnny asked.
The woman opened her mouth to answer, but the victim on the floor beat her to it. “Al. . .Alli. . .son.”
“Allison?”
This time the older lady spoke first. “Yes, Allison. And I’m Brenda.”
Johnny kept his attention on the injured ‘candy cane’. “Okay, Allison, can you tell us where you hurt?”
She nodded. “M. . .my left. . .side. Right. . .leg.”
“I think the costume kind of helped protect her,” Brenda put in. “Most of the people had sense to go around her because of the size of the suit.”
“Any back pain?” Roy wondered.
Allison shook her head ‘no’, though the foam rubber framing her face made it difficult.
“Okay. Let’s see if we can get this costume off of you so we can check you out here.”
“Where does it open at?” Gage asked, scanning the suit for a zipper.
“In the back,” Brenda quickly supplied.
The two paramedics exchanged a glance. Johnny then looked up at the man in the tree suit. “We’re gonna have to cut it. Until we know what’s going on with her left side, we don’t want to jostle her around.”
“Go ahead.”
“Okay.”
Johnny took out his scissors and carefully cut down the right side of the costume, then he and Roy slowly slid Allison out. She was still dressed in white tights and a long sleeved white shirt. Roy lifted the shirt part way to examine her left side while Johnny cut open the right leg of the tights to examine that injury.
Before long, they had Allison loaded onto a stretcher, and ready to take out to the ambulance. Roy led the way, as Johnny followed behind.
“Look out!”
Gage and the others turned at the sudden outburst, the younger paramedic looking just in time to avoid getting hit in the head by a small plastic rocket.
“What in the heck was that?”
Roy pointed over at the toy that had crash landed on the floor a few feet away.
“I’m so sorry,” a mother said, coming forward, her little six-year-old boy peeking out from behind her. “He got the toy out of the box and ready to launch before I even knew what he was doing. He didn’t mean to hit anyone with it.”
“Maybe not, but it nearly did,” Johnny stated, looking at the rocket again. He looked at the store owner nearby. “You might wanna consider taking that toy off the shelves. Someone could lose an eye with that thing.”
“Well, it’s supposed to be used under parental supervision.”
“In the ideal world, maybe. In the real world. . .not always.”
The Christmas tree clad man stood speechless a moment as Johnny went on to follow behind Roy and the others. But just when the paramedic reached the exit, the man hurried over and grabbed his arm, stopping him.
“Do you have any kids?”
Johnny shook his head.
“Nieces, nephews?”
“No, why?” What’s this about. . .?
“I was going to offer you some free toys to make up for what almost happened.”
“Hey, forget it. Like I said before, the best thing you can do is take that thing off the shelves. Other than that. . .well. . .don’t worry about it.”
Relieved that the close call incident wasn’t going to go beyond his store, the ‘Christmas tree’ escorted Johnny out to the squad. As the dark-haired paramedic climbed into the truck, the costumed man spoke. “Thanks for all your help. I’ll call the hospital later to get an update on Allison.”
“No problem.” Johnny forced a smile as he nodded and drove away, lights and siren in use. He just hoped the store owner would heed his words.
~*~*~
Dixie came out of Treatment Room Four and stopped when she saw John Gage approaching.
“I heard you nearly got taken out by a plastic rocket.”
“Yeah,” he said with a frown. “If I hadn’ta been quick to react. I tell ya, they’re making kids’ toys more dangerous all the time.”
“How did it end up being fired off in a store?”
“The mother wasn’t paying attention to her son and I guess he got into the toy, set it up and the rest is history.”
Dixie shook her head. “Makes you wonder what the manufacturer was thinking when they made it.”
“You got that right.”
The two ended the conversation as Roy met into them, having come out of Treatment Room two.
“How’s Allison?” Johnny wondered.
“She’s doing okay. The costume did kind of save her from a more serious injury.”
“Good. Looks like both of us avoided a little extra grief at that place. You know, you’d think this would be the safest time of the year. . .that people would be more thoughtful right now.”
“Maybe they’ll be better about it as Christmas gets closer.” Roy really didn’t believe it himself, but there was always hope.
~*~*~
Gage and DeSoto had no sooner gotten back to the station, when the tones sounded, sending them off on another run. This time it was for a man down. Not even having had a chance to open the squad doors to get out, Roy put the truck back into ‘drive’ and pulled into the street after the other traffic stopped to give them the right-of-way.
~*~*~
The paramedics arrived at the address, a one-story house in a sub division located on the edge of Carson. The roof was trimmed in Christmas lights that were sure to be a beautiful display when illuminated after sundown.
The men quickly climbed out of the squad and gathered their basic equipment together before heading for the front door. After two knocks, the door was opened by a gray haired woman in her mid-fifties.
“Oh, I’m so glad you boys are here!”
Johnny couldn’t help but smile at the idea of being called ‘boys’.
“We had a call for a man down. . .?” Roy pressed.
“Yes. . .yes! Of course.” She stepped back and motioned for them to come in. “It’s my husband Bernard. He was changing a bulb in a ceiling light and fell off the ladder.” She glanced over her shoulder as she led them toward another room. “I hope he’ll be okay.”
“Has he complained about any pain in particular?”
“Oh he’s been complaining about everything.”
“Ma’am?”
“Call me Gloria,” she offered as they entered the room. She held out her hands, as if to say ‘he is all yours’.
The room was a den with a couch and a recliner it, a console television at the opposite end. A man was lying in the middle of the green carpeted floor at the base of a three-step ladder. Beside him was a glass cover to a ceiling light. Overhead a bulb was in an exposed socket.
Johnny and Roy quickly made their way over to Bernard and set their equipment down on either side of him.
“How’re you doing?” Johnny asked. “Can you tell us if you hurt anywhere?”
“My back. I fell flat . . .on my back.”
“Any numbness in your arms or legs?”
“No. . .just my back . . .hurts.”
Johnny looked at his partner. “I’ll get the board.”
“Okay.” Roy got out the bp cuff and worked on getting Bernard’s vitals.
“You married?”
The paramedic nodded. “Happily, for that matter.”
“Take my advice. If you’re ever on a ladder. . .changing a light bulb, make sure. . . your wife . . .is standing far away from. . .the light switch.”
Roy glanced from the patient to Gloria, who was nervously biting her lower lip. “I didn’t think about the bright light coming on in his face before he expected it,” she shrugged.
He returned his gaze to Bernard. “I’ll remember that.”
~*~*~
Twenty minutes later, Bernard was ready to be transported. After placing him into the ambulance on a backboard and stretcher, Roy climbed up inside. “See you at Rampart.”
“Yep.” Johnny closed the doors and gave two slaps to indicate they were secure.
As he headed for the squad, the paramedic saw two teenage girls running toward him. He glanced at the ambulance pulling away, Gloria driving from the scene also. As he returned his attention to the teens, they were nearly beside him. He noticed both were wearing too much make-up, going especially heavy on the light blue eye shadow. Why do kids wanna grow up so fast?
“Can you help us?” one asked, slightly out of breath.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s a friend of ours. Betsy. She. . .uh. . .” the one looked to the other.
“Go ahead, Shelly, tell ‘um.”
She took a deep breath then continued, “Nancy and I were hangin’ out with her because her parents went Christmas shopping today. But she had a fight with her boyfriend over the phone this morning. . .she really got upset.”
Oh brother. . .they’ve gotta be kidding. “Look, our job is to save lives, not relation--”
“But she took an overdose of her mom’s sleeping pills!” Nancy blurted out.
“She’s what?”
Growing more anxious, tears welling up, Shelly explained. “She hung up the phone and was cryin’ and we were all kinda talkin’ about how crummy guys are. . .”
Johnny noticed she immediately seemed to regret her words. “It’s okay,” he interjected.
“Well, she said she was gonna go to the bathroom. . .she felt sick. But she came out and said she took the pills. She didn’t wanna live anymore.”
“Are you sure she took some?”
Both girls nodded.
He looked at the house they’d come from. “How long ago did this happen?”
Nancy shrugged. “Awhile ago. She didn’t want us get help, so we had to wait till she fell asleep. . .”
The paramedic rushed over to the squad and opened the passenger door, immediately picking up the mic and keying it.
“LA Dispatch, Squad 51.”
“Go ahead, 51.”
“I’ve got a report of a teenager who OD’d on barbiturates. Request a second squad to. . .” He eyed the girls. “Two houses down, so thirty-one twenty-three’s the address?” The two nodded. His mouth close to the mic he continued. “To thirty-one twenty-three North Palm Street. Also a police officer and an ambulance. ”
“10-4, 51.”
Johnny quickly placed the mic back in its holder. “Let’s go,” he said as he closed the door and grabbed the trauma box and oxygen.
As the three hurried to help Betsy, Gage questioned the girls more. “Is there a way to get a hold of her parents?”
Shelly shook her head.
“We don’t know when they’ll be back,” Nancy added.
“I can’t do anything without their permission. But once the officer gets here, he can place her in his custody and then either I or the other paramedics can treat ‘er.”
He followed them into the house and the livingroom where Betsy was lying on the couch in a fetal position.
Johnny stepped over and moved the coffee table away from the sofa. He then squatted down in front of the girl and checked her vital signs. Her pulse was faint, respirations slow and shallow.
“Betsy!” Johnny stated loud and firm as he tried to arouse the girl. With no reaction, he positioned her on her back and tried a sternal rub; still nothing. He noticed the telephone on a stand near a rocking chair.
“Can one of you bring me the phone? And I’m gonna need the name of the pills she took.”
Nancy complied on one item as Shelly ran to get the bottle from the bathroom.
Johnny immediately put the receiver to his ear as he placed the base of the phone on the floor. He contacted Rampart, filling them in on the situation, including what the girl had taken.
Listening to Doctor Early’s equal frustration at not being able to do anything for Betsy yet, Johnny sighed. At least she’s holding her own for now.
Several seconds later, he could hear the faint sound of sirens approaching. The fact that it was more than one was a good sign.
“Is she gonna. . . be okay?” Shelly asked, holding back a sob.
“I hope so.” He looked up as the paramedics from Squad 8 entered the house, Officer Vince Howard behind them.
“How is she?” one of the medics asked.
“Pulse is weak, respirations slow and shallow.” He looked to Vince while the others set their equipment down by Betsy and did another check on her vitals. “Her parents can’t be located, so she’ll have to placed in your custody for these guys to treat her.”
“You got it.”
He didn’t want to leave right away, but Johnny knew Roy would be waiting on him, and there could be someone else in need their services at any time. He gave Nancy and Shelly a reassuring smile and excused himself from the others. With the oxygen and trauma box once again in his hands, the dark-haired paramedic returned to the squad and headed for Rampart.
Man, I never expected a situation like that to just pop up. I hope the kid makes it . . .
Gage knew all too well that these kind of incidents were hard to let go of, especially if the outcome was grim.
~*~*~
Roy was aware of the entire situation with his partner. Having been waiting at the base station, he’d gotten a complete report from Joe Early. Thus when Johnny arrived, the senior paramedic was the first to speak, saving the other from having to start things off.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Man, I can’t believe the way this day’s started out. Between drivers cutting off others, rockets flying through the air and kids wanting to take their own lives over a stupid fight. . .I don’t know, Roy. If the rest of the season goes like this, it’s gonna be tough just makin’ it to Christmas.”
“I know.”
“This girl is only fourteen years old and she tried to kill herself over a boyfriend. Someone she probably wouldn’t even care about a few months from now.”
“Maybe she’ll come through it alright.”
“I hope so.”
“Ready to head back to the station?”
Johnny nodded. “Sure. Just a minute.” He walked over to where Early had just finished his transmission with Squad 8. “Doc, can you let me know how things go?”
“Of course. I’ll have Dixie give you a call.”
“Thanks.”
He and Roy headed for the exit.
~*~*~
After Roy backed the squad into an empty apparatus bay, the paramedics slowly climbed out of the vehicle and headed for the dayroom. Johnny grumbled along with his stomach.
“I don’t really feel like eating, but I’m starvin’.”
“Me too. Maybe Chet had time to fix something before they got toned out.”
The younger paramedic frowned at the empty table. “Or maybe not. . .” He glanced at Roy, then looked to the oven. Another frown came when he found the cooking appliance empty as well.
Roy shrugged. “No law says we can’t go back out and find something to eat.”
Johnny was about to respond when the telephone rang. He picked up the receiver before the second ring was complete, anxious to find out if it was Dixie on the other end of the line. Much to his delight, it was. After a brief conversation, he hung up and smiled at his partner.
“Betsy’s gonna make it. They’re still waiting to hear from the lab. But Early figures based on her condition, it isn’t as bad as we thought. She’s been improving since she got an IV and oxygen.”
“That’s great. I take it you can eat now?”
Roy got his answer when Johnny was out of the room in a flash, already sitting in the squad by the time he opened the driver’s side door to get in.
“You really are hungry.”
“Are you kiddin’? My abdomen is practically touching my spine.”
“Where do you wanna go?”
“Pick a place. . .any place. . .as long as it has food.”
Roy nodded and turned the key in the ignition. Once the squad was in gear, he pulled onto the street in front of the station. Johnny picked up the mic and called in their change of location to dispatch.
“10-4, 51.”
~*~*~
Not far from the station, the two paramedics found a fast food place that served both hot dogs and hamburgers at a very cheap price. Roy opted for the wiener with sauerkraut on it, and Johnny went with a burger and fries.
Gage led the way to a booth near a window with a view of the parking lot, where just their squad and a few other cars were parked.
“How come we’ve never tried this place before?” He wondered.
Roy shrugged. “I guess it’s so close, by the time we get here we figure the station is right down the street. No need to eat out.”
“Maybe.” Johnny took a bite of his burger, then shoved the food to his inner right cheek. “This is pretty good. Maybe we should come here every time it’s Chet’s turn to cook.”
“Just as long as we don’t when it’s Mike’s turn. His fried chicken and spaghetti meals are probably the best in the fire department.”
The younger man nodded as he swallowed and took another bite.
~*~*~
Having made it back to the station after their meal, the paramedics sat in the captain’s office and entered the first two runs of the day in the log book. As Roy wrote out the final word, the klaxons sounded.
“Squad 51, unknown type rescue, 2162 West Filmore Street, two one six two West Fillmore Street, time out 13:04.”
“Unknown rescues around the holidays scare me,” Johnny commented as they trotted toward the squad.
“As long as it’s not someone stuck in a chimney, I think we’ll be alright.”
“Just wait. We’ll get one like that sometime this month.”
~*~*~
Roy put the squad in gear and drove into the street. He and Johnny could see the engine finally making its’ way toward the station.
“Maybe we should’ve brought somethin’ back for them to eat,” Gage commented.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll figure something out. Chet can be creative.”
“Yeah, like cherries in stew.”
Both men made disgusting faces as they recalled the recipe the fireman had left for his fill-in during a time he was out due to illness.
~*~*~
When they pulled up to the scene, Johnny and Roy were met by a frantic woman in her late twenties.
“Oh, please hurry! I think he’s gonna die if he doesn’t get help soon! Please hurry!”
Gage glanced at the woman while quickly gathering some of the medical equipment. “What happened?”
“Our dog got a hold of him and tried to tear his neck open! Now he’s gone to hide in the crawl space under the deck and I can’t get him out!”
Ready with their rescue gear, the men looked toward the house.
“Can you take us to him?” Roy asked with a sense of urgency, hoping she’d pull together enough to be of some help.
“This way.”
“How old is he?” Johnny wondered as they hurried along. He figured to be hiding up under a deck with a crawl space, it had to be a young kid.
“I don’t know. Please just save him anyway. . .”
Gage nodded, and exchanged a puzzled glance with his partner. “Of course. That’s what we’re here for.” He shrugged and shook his head as Roy continued to look baffled about the comment from her also.
~*~*~
At the back of the house was a large twenty foot long and twelve foot wide deck ten inches off the ground. A very low crawl space was visible through lattice trim along the edge of the deck on one end. The longest side was open six feet back, the then a beam going all the way across for support divided the underneath section in half, with just a couple of holes large enough for a small animal to get through to the other side. The other end was open, but a flagstone patio made it impossible for any person, no matter what their size, to get in underneath.
Johnny got down on his hands and knees to peer into the crawlspace through the lattice. “What’s his name?” he asked as he searched for an injured person.
“He doesn’t have one. I was just calling him ‘Duck’.”
“Duck?”
She nodded. “Uh huh. He’s a Mallard duck. I don’t know how he got in my yard, but my German Shepherd got a hold of him and by the time I was able to catch him and take it away, the duck was hurt. I got the dog in the house, but in the meantime, the bird went up under the deck and won’t come out.”
“Uh. . .” Johnny was now sitting on his heels. Once again he glanced at Roy.
The senior paramedic nodded knowingly. “Ma’am, we’re a service for rescuing people, not birds. You’d need to call--”
“Can’t you just try?” she begged, a hopeful expression on her face. “Please?”
Roy sighed. “Okay. But we’ll have to make ourselves available. We’ll have to leave if a call comes in for us. . .”
“I understand.”
Johnny was looking at his partner, wondering what he’d gotten them into. More importantly, him into, being that he was already near the ground and likely to be the one going under the deck.
“Can we remove this lattice? I think I can get to him easier.”
“Oh, I just had it put up. Can’t you go in from the open side?”
“But he’s up against the house. I need to get in this section to reach ‘im.”
“Are you sure?”
Seeing the exasperation on his partner’s face, Roy made a suggestion. “Look, how about you go inside and try calling someone who does this on a regular basis. In the meantime, we’ll try to coax the duck out.”
“Okay, but promise me you won’t take down the lattice.”
“We won’t.”
She looked at Johnny, hoping for the same reassurance. “It won’t get touched.”
As they watched her disappear around the corner of the house, the door leading to the patio being locked, it was the younger man’s turn to sigh. “So what do you suggest we do to ‘coax’ this duck out? Quack and flap our arms? Waddle around the yard?”
“Just talk to it.”
“Talk to it?”
“Sure.”
“Roy, I can’t talk to a duck! What am I supposed to say?”
“Anything you can think of.”
Frowning and shaking his head in doubt, Johnny was just about to give in and crawl up under the open side of the deck when the woman returned; this time with a six-year-old boy in tow. He was a short skinny blond child with ears that stuck out a little farther than average.
“I was about to go into my house when Joey came over to return a dish his mother had borrowed. He thinks he can get up underneath and shoo the duck out.”
“You sure your mom won’t mind?” Roy asked.
The little boy nodded and smiled. “I get dirty all the time! She says she’d be disappointed if I ever ended a day clean,” he said with pride.
Better him than me, Johnny thought to himself. “Hey, you don’t wanna deny the kid his bragging rights.”
Roy stood near the open side of the deck while Johnny went over to the less accessible end by the flagstone patio. The two men waited as Joey crawled underneath.
“I can’t reach him,” he said in a tiny muffled voice.
“Maybe if he had a pole of some kind,” Roy surmised. “Ma’am, do you have a leaf rake or a broom handy?”
“A broom, yes.” She hurried away, returning shortly with the item in hand.
Roy took it from her, then knelt down and slid it up under near Joey, the bristle end pointing outward. “Son, try to guide the handle underneath and nudge the duck. Maybe you can get him to move.”
The boy complied and soon Johnny could see the bird’s feet near the edge of the patio. He slowly got to his knees, then quickly reached under and grabbed the duck. By luck he had a good hold on the body. But what to do next? If he let go, it would retreat again. However his position didn’t allow for pulling the feathered rescue-ee out, as he had a short vertical wooden slat in between his arms as well.
“Roy! I’m gonna need some help here!” Johnny could feel the duck nip at his hands as it tried to get away. “Ow! Ow-ow! Roy!”
“You got ‘im!” declared the other paramedic coming around the corner with the woman following behind him.
“He’s scared and mad about it though,” Gage commented as he tried to turn his head slightly to reply. “Can you get ‘im from the right of me?”
“I’ll try.”
Roy knelt down beside his partner and leaned onto his elbows to get a better look. Getting onto his stomach, he grabbed the bird from behind, allowing Johnny to let go, and slowly brought it out. Gage was sitting on the flagstones, examining the red marks on his hands from where he got bit.
When he saw the raw and exposed back part of the duck’s neck, all else was forgotten. Both paramedics winced at the wound.
“We’ll get him to a vet,” Roy assured. “Do you have a towel or something you could spare? It’d probably be easier of we could kind of wrap him up.”
The woman nodded. “Yes.” She started to head for the front again, but after a few steps, stopped and glanced over her shoulder. “If you hear anything from the vet after you drop him off, will you call me and let me know how he’s doing?”
“When and if they let us know, sure.”
His front all covered in dirt, Joey raced around to see the results of their efforts. The little boy rushed over to the firemen. “Is he gonna be okay?”
Johnny patted the boy on the head. “I think so. Thanks to your help. You did a good job.”
~*~*~
After getting the duck somewhat situated in a bath towel made of thin terry cloth material, and the woman’s phone number to contact her as requested, Johnny led the way to the front yard. Roy followed with the bird in his hands.
The senior paramedic looked around as they approached their squad. “You know what I still can’t figure out.”
“What?”
“What he’s doing here in the middle of a subdivision, no bodies of water around, and just him alone. . .in December.”
“Thanks.”
“For what?”
“Now that’s gonna drive me nuts.”
“I think I’ve got a solution for that.”
“And that would be. . .?”
“Well, you get to figure out a way to keep this duck calm and in your lap while I drive us to the vet.”
Johnny glanced at the red marks on his hands. “Yep, that did it.”
~*~*~
The remainder of the afternoon and early evening went much better for the crew. First the paramedics received good news about the duck. He was expected to be okay. And other than being sent on responses to a couple of minor accidents, they found themselves hanging around the station. Marco’s mother had donated an artificial tree to the station, so they filled some of their free time putting it up, and decorating it with glass balls, blinking lights and tinsel.
Since Chet ended up making lunch for the engine crew earlier, Mike volunteered to do a dinner of fried chicken, biscuits and potatoes. He and Marco were busy at the stove while the remainder of the men sat at the table looking through various sections of the newspaper.
“Hey, here’s a good article on Christmas tree safety,” Chet remarked, his finger pointing to the column. “I hope people who have real trees in their houses see this.”
Roy glanced over, but Johnny didn’t pay attention to what was said. He was busy scanning a sale ad from a sporting goods store.
“How many house fires caused by Christmas trees did we respond to last year?” Chet went on.
Mike turned around and shrugged. “Maybe three. One was because of an overloaded socket though.”
“Well, this talks about that too. They should put this article up every where they sell trees.”
Johnny finally jumped in on the conversation, his eyes still on the ad. “Well, why don’t you go buy a few hundred newspapers and take care of that, Chet?”
“Oh c’mon. Be serious. You’ve gotta admit it’s a great idea.”
“Yeah. . .so was my suggestion,” Gage added with a smile as he got up from the table.
“Where’re you off to?” Roy wondered.
“To the parkin’ lot. I wanna see if this is the same sleeping bag I got a coupla years ago or if it’s a better one,” he said as he pointed to a picture. “I can’t remember the exact weight on mine.”
Chet shook his head. “He never can admit when I have a good idea. Besides, someone could Xerox the article and hand it out.”
~*~*~
After returning from one more response that followed dinner, the men from Station 51’s A-shift were ready to try for a night of sleep. Roy and Johnny were the last to settle in, the others having made it back to the station before them.
Johnny no sooner fell asleep when he was awakened by a severe cramping in his stomach. He turned onto his side, hoping the change in position would help, but the pain didn’t ease at all. He slowly sat up, hoping it wouldn’t start anything else in motion. It did.
Gage suddenly felt an intense wave of nausea come over him. With no time to waste, he unsteadily got to his feet and hurried through the darkened dorm in his red boxer shorts, all the while hoping he could make it to the toilet in time.
~*~*~
The ill paramedic burst into the stall in the locker room and immediately leaned over the commode, expelling the contents of his stomach. Just as he started to pull back, another bout came and he once again vomited.
Oh man. . .I feel like. . .
It was then he realized he wasn’t just going to be leaning over the porcelain toilet, but sitting on it as well. He flushed down the other, then pulled down his boxers and took a quick seat.
All he could do now was hope he didn’t have to throw up while he was taking care of the other end.
~*~*~
Hank Stanley rolled over in bed and was partially awake when he heard one of his men throwing up in the other room. Pushing back the covers, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, then pulled on his turnout pants and boots. Running a hand through his already unruly hair, he made his way into the locker room.
As he entered, he saw Johnny leaning over the sink, splashing water on his face. He noticed the younger man’s hands were shaking.
“You okay, pal?”
“I don’. . .think so.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’ know. I woke up. . .with stomach cramps. . .and then. . .” Johnny suddenly got a queasy expression on his face and made another dash for the toilet stall.
“Say no more. I’ll get Roy.”
The only reply was another heave as Johnny expelled more contents of his stomach.
~*~*~
Roy contacted Rampart on the biophone while Johnny sat on the locker room bench, now with a white t-shirt on along with his red boxers. He was resting his forehead on the heels of his hands, elbows on knees, and the trash can between his feet. Johnny’s face was set in a grimace. “Oh man. . .” he groaned. Mike, Marco and Chet stood nearby in case they were needed to help.
After reading off the vital signs, DeSoto continued, “Patient is experiencing severe stomach cramps, vomiting and occasional bouts of diarrhea.”
“51, did he happen to eat at a place called ‘Martin’s Burgers and Dogs’?” Brackett wondered.
Roy glanced at his miserable partner. “Yes, as a matter of fact he did. We both did. Why?”
Johnny lifted his head, curious as to what was going on. The other men were equally puzzled.
“Did he have a hamburger?”
“Yes. . .and I had a hot dog.”
“Roy, we’ve had several patients here tonight that are experiencing the same symptoms. So far they’ve all concurred that they ate at that place around noon. We haven’t confirmed it yet, but it looks as though it’s Staphylococcus aureus. Most were able to return home and are waiting it out there. But a few have required treatment and further observation.”
“What about Johnny?” Roy once again looked at his partner.
“Transport him non-code R just as a precaution. If he seems to be doing okay over all, we’ll release him to go home.”
“10-4, Rampart.”
Roy hung up the biophone receiver and sighed. “I guess we should be glad we never ate there before.”
Johnny started to nod, but found himself heaving into the trashcan again.
“Bill Larson from Station 8 is on his way in to replace John,” Hank stated as he joined his men in the locker room. He looked at the younger paramedic. “No change, huh?”
Roy shook his head. “Not much. Brackett said they’ve had a number of people in with the same symptoms. And they ate lunch at the same place we did. He thinks its Staphylococcus aureus, which is a kind of food poisoning that can be caused by poor sanitary practices in handling it. We’re lucky it was just the hamburger. . .and so far just the stuff served around noon.”
“Gage may never complain about my cooking again,” Chet commented.
“As long as it’s not a hamburger,” Mike added.
The groan they got from their ill shiftmate told them they were right on the money.
~*~*~
Soon Johnny was placed on a stretcher and loaded into the ambulance. Roy climbed up inside.
“I’ll have Larson pick you up in the squad at Rampart,” Captain Stanley said as he prepared to close the doors.
Roy nodded. “Okay.”
“Hope you feel better soon, John. Just try to get some rest.”
“Thanks. . .,Cap.”
With the doors secured, the ambulance was on its way.
Johnny looked up at Roy. “I can’t . . .believe this.”
“Hey, at least this way you’ll be out of the mainstream for a day or so. You can just lay low while the rest of us take our chances.” He forced a reassuring smile.
“Roy, I think I’d rather. . .be takin. . .my chances.”
“I didn’t think you’d buy that line,” he sighed. The month had to end on a better note than it started on.
~*~*~
December 10th
The following shift, Johnny was back at work, fully recovered from what was confirmed as a moderate case of food poisoning. As he changed into uniform, he talked with the other members of A-shift.
“Man, that was an experience I coulda’ done without. And it sure wasn’t my idea of fun spendin’ the rest of the night at Rampart.”
“It only got worse here about an hour after you left,” Marco began. “We had a call to a house fire that kept us up half of the night.”
Chet nodded. “Then we no sooner got back and some drunk caused a three car accident on the 405. There wasn’t even much traffic and he managed to hit someone and push them into someone else. It was a mess.”
“We ended up with about two hours of sleep at the most,” Mike finished.
“I told you we’d be out taking our chances.”
Johnny nodded as he recalled Roy’s words in the ambulance. “I wonder how it went for C-shift. . .”
“The paramedics had nineteen responses.”
Gage looked at Roy in surprise, his mouth hanging open. “Nineteen?”
“Uh huh. That’s what Dwyer said.”
“Oh man.”
“Better hope for another case of food poisoning,” Mike commented.
Gage shook his head. “Oooh nooo. I wouldn’t go through that again even if it got me out of a hundred rescues. No way, man.”
With everyone changed into uniform, the men closed their lockers and filed out of the room, each hoping that nineteen rescues in one shift was a fluke.
~*~*~
Five hours later, Johnny and Roy found themselves returning to the station for the fourth time. The engine was out on its second response of the day.
As they walked into the dayroom, Gage glanced over his shoulder at his partner.
“Ya know, it wouldn’t be so bad if people would just take time to think about what they’re doin’.”
“I know. I--”
“I mean, falling off a flat roof putting up Christmas lights? Sure, he tripped over the wires, but if he’d just taken it more slow.”
“I--”
“And what about the man who had the can turned wrong and sprayed himself in the face with the artificial snow? He’s lucky it wasn’t any worse.”
“I’d say something but you keep cutting me off.”
“Huh?” Johnny turned around as he reached in the cupboard for a cup.
“I was just gonna agree, but you kept interrupting me.”
“Oh.” The younger man poured a cup of coffee, which Roy took from him. Furrowing his brow at the ‘theft’, he retrieved another cup and poured some of the still warm brew for himself. “If we keep up at this rate, we’ll have nineteen runs like C-shift.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Hey, it’s not my faul--”
Johnny stopped in mid-sentence when the klaxons interrupted the conversation.
“Squad 51, difficult breathing, 1862 North Cambridge Avenue, one eight six two North Cambridge Avenue, time out 13:12.”
The two men were soon on their way in the squad.
“Why do I get the feeling this is another girdle incident, like that one a few years ago.”
Roy smiled. “You know, you handled it well when you cut that thing free and it came flying at your face.”
“Well, just the same, if this is another one of those, it’s your turn.”
“I think we’re already even. So it’d be your turn again.”
“How do you figure that?”
“I seem to recall being left alone to get a very naked young lady’s toe out of a tub faucet.”
“But she was covered in bubbles!” Johnny protested. He could tell by his partner’s expression that his quick departure from the awkward situation hadn’t been forgotten.
“Okay . . . okay.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t think this address is in a residential area anyway.”
~*~*~
Several minutes later, Roy brought the squad to a stop at a large lot on the side of the street where dozens of live pine trees were set up inside a fenced area. A sign over a gated entry way read ‘Christmas Trees’.
The paramedics got out of the squad and gathered their gear. They were met at the gate by an older man in jeans and a long-sleeved red flannel shirt.
“I’m Dean Gibbons, the owner of this place. I’ve got a customer over there,” he pointed to a rear corner of the enclosure, “who can’t seem to get his breath. He looks like he’s about to pass out.”
Johnny followed behind Roy, the oxygen and biophone in his hands. DeSoto was carrying the drug box. When they made it through a small group of onlookers and reached the victim, they saw it was a man in his mid-thirties who was hyperventilating.
Roy turned to the owner as his partner set down the equipment and tended the man on the ground.
“Do you have a small bag of some sort? Something we can put over his nose and mouth for him to breathe into?”
Mr. Gibbons glanced around, then nodded. “We have some small paper sacks of candy for kids that come with their parents. I can empty one of those.”
Roy nodded his approval and the owner was quickly on his way to retrieve one of the bags.
~*~*~
Once they had the victim’s breathing under control, Johnny stood up, his hands on his hips. “Any idea what caused you to hyperventilate, Mr. Wyatt?”
“I’m a Dendrophobiac.”
“A what?”
“I’ve got a phobia of trees. I came here on the advice of my therapist to confront my fears.” He shrugged. “I guess it backfired.” He looked at the two paramedics. “Can I get out of here now? I feel like the Christmas trees are closing in around me.”
“You sure you’re okay?” Roy asked.
“Yes. . .yes, I’m fine. Just want to get away from here. Do you think you guys could. . . um. . . walk on either side of me?”
Johnny and Roy looked at him in puzzlement.
“I. . .uh. . .I can’t walk past this many trees. . . alone.”
“Oh. . .sure,” Gage nodded. “Sure, we’ll help ya out.” He looked at Roy and smiled slightly. The senior paramedic returned the expression.
“We’ve got to leave too anyway. Let’s go.”
The three men headed toward the exit. They didn’t notice the photocopied tree safety article posted near the cash register.
~*~*~
Johnny turned slightly in his seat as Roy drove the squad back to the station.
“You know, that’s kind of an interesting concept.”
“What?”
“Deliberately going to a place to confront a phobia. But maybe it oughta be with the therapist tagging along, in case the patient has a reaction. . .like Jay did.”
“Yeah, I’m surprised he went alone.”
Johnny stared out the windshield as he chewed his lower lip in thought. He then glanced at his partner. “You got any phobias?”
“Not really. But if I had to say anything got a reaction in me, it’d have to be heights.”
“Heights?” Gage asked in disbelief.
“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”
“Nothin’ , ‘cept you’re a fireman and we deal with heights all the time.”
“Well, I guess I’ve been at this new type of therapy before it was even invented then.”
“Huh. . . a fireman that’s afraid of heights.”
“I didn’t say I was afraid,” Roy defended. “I just kind of get an uneasy feeling in my stomach at first.”
“Roy, that’s fear.”
The senior paramedic brought the squad to a stop at a red light. He then looked over at the inquisitive younger man. “What about you? Any phobias?”
”Needles. I don’t like needles.”
“That’s right, I forgot.” The light turned green and Roy stepped on the gas pedal. “You know, a paramedic who doesn’t like needles is as crazy as a fireman who doesn’t like heights.”
Johnny snickered. “I guess we’re even again.”
Suddenly the tones sounded over the radio and the paramedics were on their way to a call concerning a child bitten. Johnny picked up the mic. “Squad 51, 10-4.” He placed it back in its holder as Roy made a left turn at the next intersection and headed away from their previous destination.
~*~*~
Once at the scene, the paramedics were led inside a house to a livingroom where a ten-year-old boy sat on a couch, the outside edge of his left hand bleeding. As he examined the bite, Johnny looked up at the boy’s mother.
“What bit him?”
“His sister’s pet monkey.”
“Monkey?” An uneasy feeling came over him. Maybe *that’s* like a phobia now. . .He glanced at Roy, wondering if he’d have the same thoughts about another monkey they’d come across during a rescue a few years before. And after what he’d just been through with the food poisoning, Johnny had no desire to face a strange flu-like virus again.
The woman nodded. “She and Mark were pretending to have a wrestling match and apparently Nanners got protective of her. He was up on an open door and I guess just leaped off and right onto Mark. Grabbed a hold of his hand and bit down.”
“You know animal control is going to need to make sure he’s okay to stay as a pet,” Roy explained.
“Where is he anyway?” Johnny asked.
“Right here!” the little girl shouted as she came into the room, the primate sitting on her shoulder. It was a spider monkey, not very big at all.
Mark saw the little animal and got to his feet, completely surprising the paramedics.
“Son, you need to let us finish,” Roy commented.
But the boy pushed past DeSoto and raced toward his sister, sending the monkey off in another direction. It ran around, chattering as Mark chased after it. Johnny and Roy watched in surprised silence while the mother and daughter took chase as well.
The monkey quickly climbed up the Christmas tree where he hung near the top for a few seconds before his weight and swinging action brought it over and onto the carpeted floor. Glass ornaments shattered, most of the pieces trapped under the branches.
“I know one thing,” Johnny mumbled to his partner. “After catching the virus from Cokee and seeing this, having a monkey for a pet is a lot more trouble than it’s worth.”
“You’ll never see one at my house,” Roy agreed. He stepped over to get Mark so that they could continue on with their job.
~*~*~
Within twenty minutes, Mark was on his way in an ambulance non-code R with Roy riding in with him. Though it was a small bite and didn’t seem to be a serious one, Doctor Mike Morton had insisted the paramedics bring the boy in since it was an exotic pet that did the biting.
Johnny followed behind in the squad, thinking back on how a police officer and animal control employee had worked together to capture Nanners so that he could be kept at the pound for a few days. Gage hoped for the little girl’s sake that the monkey would prove to be still acceptable as a pet.
His mind on the rescue, it took him a few seconds to register in his thoughts that a car was coming through the intersection from the left. Tires screeched as the driver of the vehicle tried to avoid a collision. In a flash Johnny glanced up to see that he indeed had the right of way with a green light, at the same time swerving to the right. The two automobiles ended up stopped within inches of each other at the far right corner of the intersection, the squad’s front right tire up on the sidewalk.
Johnny sat a moment as he took a deep breath. His hands were shaking, his heart beating rapidly. Oh man, that was close.
The other car was beside the squad, its front end angled toward the driver’s side just behind the door. The woman inside climbed out and hurried around to make sure Johnny was okay. She tapped on the window. “Hey! Are you hurt? Did you get whiplash?”
The paramedic rolled down his window with a still unsteady hand and shook his head. “I’m alright. Are you okay?”
The woman nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. Just shaken up a little.”
“Good.” He paused a few seconds, trying to keep his paramedic demeanor intact, but the nearly injured driver in him found its way out. “Didn’t you see that you had a red light?”
“I was trying to find a station on the radio that was playing Christmas carols. I guess I wasn’t paying attention until I saw you entering the intersection. I’m so sorry.”
A couple of other cars had stopped near the scene to see if all was okay. When it was apparent no harm was done, they promptly continued on their way.
Johnny sighed, once again glancing at his trembling hands before addressing the upset young woman. “If you’re driving a car, you need to have your attention to just that. Driving. We see way too many bad results from people not payin’ attention on the road.”
“I said I was sorry.”
“That’s fine. Just make sure ya mean it.”
The woman pulled back, taken by surprise at his frankness. “Look, it was an accident.”
“It nearly was. Just promise me you’ll keep your eyes on the road from now on; for your sake as well as others’.”
“Okay, I will.”
Johnny watched as she got into her car and left the area, freeing up his space to get back onto the main road.
~*~*~
Soon on his way again, Gage swore under his breath. “Dammit. If I make it to Christmas without anymore mishaps, it’ll be a miracle.”
He glanced at his watch as he turned onto the street leading to Rampart’s parking lot. Roy’s gotta be wonderin’ what’s taking me so long. . .
~*~*~
Once inside at Rampart, Johnny met up with his partner. Roy had just come out of the men’s bathroom and was headed toward the desk to get supplies refilled.
“It’s about time you got here. What happened?”
“I nearly got in an accident at Blevins and 17th Avenue. Some lady who was payin’ more attention to her radio controls than where she was goin’ just about took the squad out. . . with me in it.”
“Drivers get crazy this time of year.”
“I’ll say,” Johnny agreed. “It’s downright dangerous at times.”
The two men stopped at the desk where Dixie McCall was talking to a nurse who appeared to be in her late fifties. The ladies looked over, Dixie smiling at both paramedics, the other just at Johnny.
“Well, I see you found your partner.”
Roy glanced at Gage, then looked to Miss McCall. “Yep. Turns out he was trying to do donuts or something in the squad while I was busy doing our job here.”
Dixie raised an eyebrow and the younger man rolled his eyes before clarifying the situation. “What he means is that I was out risking my life in pre-holiday traffic while he was safely off the streets.”
“Did you have an accident?”
Johnny glanced at the older nurse who was still staring and smiling at him. He then quickly directed his attention back to Dixie and her question. “Almost. . .well, kinda. A lady ran a red light fiddling with her radio. . .” Distracted, he couldn’t help but take a look at the other nurse again.
Man, what is she staring at?
“I. . .uh. . .I. . .she just missed me. . .in the intersection.”
Not noticing his partner’s annoyance, Roy carried on with the business of getting supplies. Johnny forced himself to watch Dixie gather the stuff together. Once it was ready, they bid the ladies farewell and headed for the exit.
“Man, did you see how that old nurse was looking at me?”
Roy glanced over his shoulder and shook his head. “No. Was it with bedroom eyes?”
“Roy! Man, I don’t believe you. No. No,” he emphasized with a disgusted grimace. “She just kept smilin’ at me.”
“Maybe she likes you. Or maybe your fly is open.”
Johnny immediately stopped, a sudden horrified expression on his face as looked down while his partner continued on with a smile. Seeing that his trousers were very much closed, he trotted to catch up with Roy.
“Very funny. You know, maybe you ought to become a host for a candid camera show.”
They exited the building and walked toward the squad, Gage still in disbelief of Roy’s little joke.
~*~*~
Roy backed the squad into the apparatus bay and stopped, hoping that his partner would quit going on about the older nurse’s unwanted attention as well. But as he opened his door to get out, Johnny placed a hand on his right shoulder, stopping him. Roy sat back and waited for more.
“You know three times I’ve asked you a question. . .Three times! And you’ve yet to answer it.”
“The one about the grandmother syndrome?”
“Yes. What do you think?”
“Well, although she’s older than most of the other nurses, I’d say she’s a little young to be looking at you like a grandson.”
“So. ..?”
“So-o.” Roy chewed his bottom lip. Did he really want to drop the next line on the already ranting man? Why not? The result would kill some time if nothing else. “So, I think she just likes younger men.”
With that the senior paramedic climbed from the squad cab, leaving an open mouthed Gage behind. After Roy was well out of earshot, Johnny was able to get his jaw to work again. “But you’re a younger man! Why wasn’t she lookin’ at you?” he called out. Man, this is gonna put a damper on my day. . .
