What The Water Brings In

2

"Hey! Help! I need some help here!"

Our faces flew apart. I jumped, startled, and at the same time Dr. Green's arms wrapped around my shoulders and squeezed me tight into him, turning me protectively away from the voice. When the words the voice hollered at us processed, we looked to the source to see a tall male stumbling through the rain, completely drenched to show his muscular frame under Dickies and a flannel button up. On his shoulders in a fireman's carry was another figure, limp, unconscious, and equally wet.

"Sang. Go get a wheelchair just inside the door and a neck brace from the welcome desk," Dr. Green ordered before rushing back into the rain to meet the man and the person he rescued.

In a split second, the most efficient plan for my task was derived and put into action. My wet tennis shoes squeaked and squelched on the linoleum floor as I nearly crashed into the rounded counter of the welcome desk and scared the lady behind it. "Neck brace!" I shouted.

A white, plastic collar I recognized from television dramas when someone got carted away in an ambulance was placed in my outstretched hand. Reception must have stocked them with quick and ready access for emergencies like this one. With a hasty "Thank you!" I turned and ran back to the door, grabbing a wheelchair on the way after I tossed the brace into the seat. After my hand wrapped around the handles and pushed, I groaned in frustration when the large wheels did not turn. Precious moments were wasting away as I was forced to circle around the chair and release the locks.

Dr. Green and the stranger had the unconscious person laying in the middle of the drive. Now they were on their back, I could clearly make out the person was a woman. She wore black slacks and a printed blouse that prevented us from seeing too many details of her undergarments with it being drenched. Sean crouched directly above her head, his hands clamped around her ears to keep her neck in a stable and neutral position. The lady's lips were blue.

The man who brought her to us kneeled at her side. His fingers were pressed to the side of her grey pallor neck. "I ain't no expert," he said with a heavy South Carolinian accent, "but I can feel a pulse. I reckon it's weak, though."

Dr. Green look up at me. "Did you happen to grab a resuscitation mask too?" he asked quickly. I frantically shook my head no. Panic tried to overtake me; my lack of forethought was going to cost this woman her life! Even though I had an idea as to what he referred to, I was not sure what a resuscitation mask was. That was the bulbous bag thingy paramedics squeezed over someone's face, right? It didn't matter. I didn't have one.

"I'll do the honors," the stranger said before lowering his face and sealing his lips over her blue ones in a kiss.

No. That wasn't a kiss. His hand held her nose closed as he breathed on her behalf, blowing air from his own lungs into hers. I was mesmerized by her chest that rose in conjunction with his exhales.

"Miss Sang?" Dr. Green called with his eyes adamantly observing his patient and the color slowly returning to her complexion.

I snapped out of my stupor. "Yes, Dr. Green?"

"Put the collar on her." It was a command with no room to question.

I applied the brakes to the wheels of the chair, lest it roll away into the storm, and took up the collar from the seat. My jeans protected my knees from the bite of the asphalt when I knelt by her head on the other side of the woman from where the man bent over her.

Sean kept a firm hold of her head as he instructed me to slip the back flap under her neck and secure the Velcro to the rigid front half until her chin could not move about. I wanted to bask in a sense of accomplishment for half a moment, but I was denied the opportunity when the lady suddenly started thrashing her arms and legs around, startling me so I fell back onto my butt.