Part Eight
By Pebbles
Pebbles@ukgateway.net
Kerry felt the ground lurch under her feet and the next thing she knew she was in the arms of Sergeant Crosby who had evidently caught her before she hit the ground. He lowered her down gently and she stuck her head down between her knees.
"I’m so sorry. I don’t normally do this." Kerry mumbled from under her hair, mortified to show such weakness.
"That’s OK my dear, you’ve had a bit of a shock." His tone was patronising even if he meant well.
"I deal with trauma every day of my life!" Kerry’s voice rose to a squeak as she pulled herself back to her feet again, only leaning harder on her crutch than usual.
"I’m sure you do my dear but its not some always someone your fond of." There wasn’t much Kerry could say to this, as it was painfully true.
Constable Bradley shouting from the Range Rover interrupted them. "I’ve got confirmation that Culdrose has got a Sea King airborne. ETA in ten minutes!"
"God bless the Royal Navy!" Crosby slapped Kerry vigorously on the back before switching on his RT set to relay the news to the team down below.
As he was speaking there was a sound of footsteps on the road and Doug shuffled into view wrapped in a foil blanket. "Any chance of a cup of tea?" He managed a grin before Carol pulled him into a tearful embrace.
"I’m so sorry Doug! I’ve been worried sick about you." She murmured into his shoulder.
"Don’t worry about it sweetheart. I’m fine – and I should be sor…" He was cut off by Kerry.
"What the hell have you done Doug Ross?" Her voice cut through the air like a banshee’s shriek. "What did you do to him?"
"Hey, calm down Kerry!" Doug turned to face her. Seeing that she was deathly white and her hands were trembling, he lowered his voice and made to take hold of her arms.
She lurched back from him. "Get away from me!"
"Kerry, just take it easy." Doug stood still resisting the urge to try and touch her. "Luka’s going to be fine. He fell down the ravine and landed in the stream. I…I did what I could for him and now he’s being taken care of."
Satisfied that she had taken this in Doug hung his head and shuffled his feet a little. "I’m sorry I was a complete asshole before. I, well this is no excuse, I just didn’t realise what a good friend he had been to Carol. He’s a terrific guy you know." He looked up at Kerry from under is brow like a naughty schoolboy. This kind of thing had never cut any ice with Kerry and it certainly wasn’t going to do so now.
"Well you should have found out a bit more about him before you started jumping to conclusions!" She retorted.
"Yes, I know Kerry. I’m trying to apologise." He was really far too tired to be getting into a shouting match with Kerry now. Turning to Sergeant Crosby he asked, "Where’s that chopper got to? Shouldn’t it be here by now?"
"It’s on its way, Dr Ross. Why don’t you get on back to the hotel now and get yourself a hot bath and some dry clothes. We’ve got this covered here." Crosby could see that the tension between the two doctors was not helping the situation.
Below them, in the ravine John Carter was listening anxiously to his British colleague who was talking to Crosby on the RT. Thank God the helicopter was on its way at last! Luka’s body could not stand being out here in the cold much longer.
He looked down at the older man who was completely wrapped in foil heating blankets with only his face exposed to the night air. It was hard to believe that only four hours ago he had been dancing at Mark and Elizabeth’s wedding with Kerry Weaver in his arms. Now he lay out under the cold November sky – his body bruised and broken.
"We can move him up to the top now." The British doctor interrupted John’s thoughts.
"What’s the ETA?" John was still concerned about moving Luka and running the risk of causing cardiac dysrhythmia."
"Ten minutes – and the Navy boys carry a portable defibrillator. They’re well used to dealing with hypothermia seeing as they pull most of their customers out of the sea!"
"Yes, of course. So couldn’t they winch the patient directly up from here then?" As he spoke John took in the landscape of trees around them and realised that he was just clutching at straws.
"Believe me, you don’t want to subject your patient to a ride on a winch unless it can be avoided. He’ll have a far smoother ride with the four of us carrying him and we ought to start now if were to get up there in ten."
John started to arrange the IV drip for the journey, totally accepting the advice of the local man. Very carefully they slipped the stretcher under Luka and on three they lifted him off the ground. Then they made their way cautiously towards the road. The grass was slippery and littered with scattered rocks and bounders. John regretted not changing out of his dress shoes as he struggled to keep his feet from sliding under him.
It was slow going, as each man had to find his footing in the moonlight. However they managed to keep the stretcher fairly steady avoiding any sudden jerks. Just as they gained sight of the police vehicles there was a roaring in the air and the helicopter’s lights could be seen approaching from the west.
When Kerry saw the party carrying Luka approach she found that, for one long agonising moment her feet were rooted to the spot. For some time she had been wondering how she was going to talk her way on board the helicopter but as Carter came closer she acted without thinking.
"May I?" Was all she said before unwrapping the stethoscope from his neck. Her eyes were fixed on Luka’s pale face so she didn’t see the look of puzzlement that crossed Carter’s face. She hung it round her own neck – the feel of it giving her back the confidence, which had recently abandoned her.
As the stretcher was deftly loaded aboard the grounded Sea King Kerry, not once relinquishing her grip on it, climbed in after. To the winch man’s puzzled glance she responded: "Will there be room for Dr Carter? I’d be very grateful for his assistance here."
Glances were exchanged by all present but Kerry already aboard had the advantage. "There’s room for one more." The winchman stated baldly. The British doctor stepped back.
"You can handle it from here. Good luck!" He added with good grace.
The flight lasted less then ten minutes, during which time they had been able to intubate Luka, replace the chemical heating packs with fresh ones and get a core temperature reading. Kerry was disturbed to learn that it had dropped to 31 degrees.
"To be honest, Kerry I thought it might be even lower." Carter gave her a friendly rub on her back. "Now, at least we can start to warm him properly." He had to break off the conversation at the doors opened and the roar of the engines drowned out all other sounds. Together they trotted alongside the gurney, barely taking in the layout of the strange hospital. Brief introductions were exchanged but no comments made as to their status in the foreign ER.
At last they arrived in the trauma room where at last John and Kerry stood back allowing their British colleagues to do their job. Blood was taken for cross matching whilst warmed humidified oxygen was administered via the endotracheal tube. Heat lamps were set up and all the vitals checked again.
The doctor in charge, who had earlier been introduced as Dr Booth turned to Kerry. "I want to accelerate the warming process so we can get him up to surgery a.s.a.p." He turned back to his team. "Set up warmed gastric and thoracic lavage – 500ml per minute."
"What about full body immersion?" Carter ventured.
"I’ve considered that. But I think we can achieve a gain of at least 4 degrees an hour with this technique and we can start to replace with his own blood type and prep him for surgery. We couldn’t do any of that with a complete immersion." Booth sounded very confident and both John and Kerry began to relax a little.
"Have you got a vascular surgeon on stand-by?" Kerry’s voice was now back to its usual authoritative tone.
As Booth turned to answer her there was a screeching sound from the heart-monitoring machine. "He’s going into V-Fib!"
End of Part 8