Page 18 of Dr. Alaska
Without taking his eyes off the blade, he said, “Louise, cric pressure.”
Louise pressed her gloved thumb and index finger down on Bruce’s cricoid cartilage, making the larynx structures easier to see and access during intubation. With her other hand, Louise held the sterile packaging as Maverick grasped the endotracheal tube. Once the tube was inserted, Louise removed the metal stylus inside the ET, or endotracheal, tube while Maverick held the ET tube in place. They performed the procedure without saying a word. Perfect teamwork.
With the ambu bag attached and Mav providing ventilation, Lee listened with her stethoscope over Bruce’s chest. Bilateral breath sounds, equal chest rise visible. “ET tube placement looks good.” She exhaled along with several other staff members in the room.
“It’s been two minutes, Doc,” the HUC said.
“Give amiodarone three hundred milligrams.” She paused as Deirdre gave the medication. “Any test results yet?”
The HUC punched an extension into the portable phone, mumbled, then shook her head. “Labs are still in process.”
CPR continued. Maverick gave Lee a tight smile as he inserted the CO2 detector for a few breaths, nodded, removed it, then reconnected the ET tube to the ambu bag that Clyde squeezed. Then he secured the endotracheal tube in place with tape.
Lee checked the monitor for the hundredth time.Damn, damn, damn.Time slowed. Her focus sharpened as she processed every detail around her. As Lee fought to stay calm, her words became slower and more deliberate, syllables drawn out. Those extra milliseconds gave her space to think.
To plan a few steps ahead. “Hold compressions.” She peered at the monitor. Still in V-fib. “Let’s go ahead and shock at two hundred joules, please.” Lee crossed her fingers and tossed up a silent prayer.
She was running out of options to save Bruce’s life. The longer he had CPR without return of spontaneous circulation, the less likely he was to survive.
Lee’s mind raced. Her stomach tensed.
Deirdre charged the unit. “Come on, Bruce,” she murmured, a shimmer in her eyes.
Maverick peered at his sister, one brow raised.
Everyone got clear on Lee’s command.
Please work.A bead of sweat rolled down Lee’s temple. Her dry mouth formed the word.
“Shock.”
Deirdre hit the button. Bruce’s body jumped.
One second.
Two.
Three.
Lee’s gaze landed on the suddenly silent telemetry monitor, back to Bruce with the ET tube and IV lines, and then to Maverick. He gave her a reassuring nod, then resumed ventilating with the ambu bag. Amberlyn’s finger hovered over the switch to restart compressions.
Then, regular beeps filled the room. Lee blinked. What? She pressed the back of her forearm to her damp brow and squinted.
Someone in the room muttered, “Whoa.”
Telemetry read—oxygen saturation 95 percent, pulse sinus rhythm at ninety beats per minute.
“Oh my gosh,” Lee said, her ears ringing. “Check for a pulse.”
Clyde pressed his fingers against Bruce’s neck. “Palpable and steady.”
“Wahoo!” Amberlyn gave a gentle whoop.
Happy murmurs added to hers in the strangely quiet room. Only the regular, softer beeps of the monitor and the softwhooshof the ambu bag filled the space now.
“Everyone agree?” Lee gripped the railing of the bed and leaned forward, scared to take her eyes off the monitor.
She doubted herself for a split second. Then she glanced over at Maverick.
