Another Cold Night

The jarring ring of the phone snapped me awake. This was not the usual sweet ring associated with a regular phone call. Oh no! This is a constant, irritating, heart stopping, adrenalin pushing constant scream. Someone was in trouble and I was needed.

I was an EMT in a small town in Northern Wisconsin and while we received some calls during the warmer months, it seemed we received the bulk of calls in the winter. Mostly, snowmobile accidents, with the odd heart attack thrown in to keep us on our toes. We came to detest Winter. In the eight years I was on the ambulance service, I don't remember sleeping through the night, once the snow fell and people arrived to enjoy the winter wonderland.

Too bad, when they came up to enjoy the delights the North Woods had to offer, they usually left their common sense at home.

Now, someone was in trouble. I threw on clothes, boots, gloves, a heavy jacket and kissed my husband good bye. Every time I went out on one of these calls, he would get up, make coffee and wait for my safe return. It was nice, having this constant in my life.

Anyway, I head to the 'barn', not waiting for my windshield to clear. The nearest hospital was twenty minutes away from the center of the small town I lived in, and our area was large. The time it will take to get to our patient, treat him or her and get them on the road to the hospital would eat up that sacred 'Golden Hour'. We had no time to waste.

My partner pulls into the parking lot at the same time as me and just can't help mentioning that with the wind chill it's thirty below zero. Yeah, I could have gone all night without hearing that bit of news.

It's a snowmobile accident not far from the 'barn', so we made it there in excellent time, slippery roads not withstanding. As we swing onto the scene, our headlights flash into a large pine tree. Our patient is impaled on one of the branches. He had been moving at a high rate of speed and the impact launched him into the tree. We called for assistance and began the task of getting him out of the tree and onto the gurney. This was a load and go situation, but before we could do anything, we had to get him out of that tree.

Help arrives pretty quickly. This is a young man and just maybe, if luck is with us, we can save him.

Getting him extracated from the tree takes time and we, my partner and I, notice he's only doing belly breathing. Not a good sign. His friends are trying to help, and finally, we give one of the sheriffs the high sign and he moves them back and out of our hair. People want to help, especially when it is one of their own, but often times, they will do more harm than good.

It takes us twenty minutes to get our patient out of the tree. None of us notice the bitter cold. We're busy. We want to save this life.

He's young. He's only twenty-five and newly engaged. This was not something we wanted to hear. We have to maintain our professional demeanor at all costs, and it costs an awful lot. We tend to lose something of ourselves on calls like this.

Finally, we have him on the gurney. His vital signs are rotten. We're going to lose him, but we're not prepared to give up. We'll breathe for him if we have to and do everything we can to keep his heart beating, but it's going to be a battle, a war.

It's New Year's Day. What a lousy start to a new year. My partner and I climb into the back of the ambulance and begin to work on this young man. A sheriff hops into the cab, turns on the red lights and sirens and frankly, we haul ass. We're flying up the highway. We really want to save this young man's life. So much potential could be lost.

Half way to the hospital, our patient goes into full arrest. Either my parnter or myself mutter one word. "Shit!". It doesn't matter which of us said it. We both were thinking it. We were losing and we don't like to lose.

My partner gets on the radio and requests an intercept. That will bring a doctor and more help. We need all the help we can get.

Finally, we get some kind of heart beat. He's still breathing from the belly. Not a good sign, but we have a heart beat. It was like winning the lottery. Now, if he can just hold on until our intercept meets us, just maybe we can win the whole ball game.

The sheriff driving calls back. He sees the red lights from the oncoming ambulance. My partner and I breathe a sigh of relief. Help is here. We don't have to fight alone.

It seems like years passed since we responded. My arms feel like lead from performing cardiac massage. My partner's hands are beginning to freeze up from constant bagging. Neither of us are willing to give up, though. No way. Not now, not ever.

The doctor and another EMT hop into the back of our rig and the sheriff takes off. I didn't think an ambulance could accelerate that quickly, but we were off like a shot.

Our patient begins to arrest again. Oh no! Not now. Not when we're this close. I lean over and whisper in our patient's ear. "You're young, you have a lot to live for, we're working hard, but you have to help. Don't you dare die on us.", I tell him.

They say the hearing is the last thing to go. It must be true, because he starts to breathe a little better on his own. Just a little. He's fighting now. It's all we can ask.

We pull into the ambulance bay and prepare to unload him. Just that fast, he goes into full arrest again. Now, we have the entire staff of a well run hospital to assist. The meds start to flow. Cardiac massage is begun. A ventilator is brought in and he's hooked up to it. No response to painful stimuli. Not good. His heart flutters briefly, then stops. The only movement on telemetry was during external massage.

They apply the paddles. Someone yells "clear!" and we all stand back. They whap him and his body comes up from the eletrical jolt. Nothing. Straight line. The doctor pushes more meds. Caps are flying from pre-filled syringes. Fluids are spraying. It's organized confusion, unless you understand. Everyone knows their job.

After what seems like an eternity, the doctor stands up. We've lost. We don't like to lose, but it happens sometimes. My partner and I grab the equipment and supplies we'll need on the next run and head out to our ambulance, the sheriff right behind. We almost forgot about him. He needs to catch a ride back to his squad.

Our thoughts fly to the young man's family. A young woman was standing in the hallway, looking lost and destroyed. Must be his fiancee. None of us want to think about her. We don't want to talk to her, but she grabs my arm.

"Thank you", she whispers. Her voice is like silk. We lost, and she's thanking us. That's just how some people are. In spite of myself, I give her a fast hug. I don't want to get even this involved, but those two simple words go straight to my heart. I understand her loss. I lost my first husband after just ten years of marriage. I know how she feels, but I can't tell her that. I have to get back. I want to go home and put my arms around my present husband.

The ride back to our little town is silent. The three of us are lost in our thoughts and we don't want to share them.

Finally, we see the lights of town and there's a collective sigh. We put the ambulance to bed and head home. My partner mentions one more time how cold it is. Yeah, it's one cold night.