Untitled (for now)., chapter 4
The beeping heart monitor, which had just been a bright, green, spiky line, was now flat. Billie Joe and Mike clung to each other like little kids. Tre had slipped away, just like that. To think that two days ago, he'd been picking out a drumset for his son's birthday, and having band practice with his mates.
"Isn't there anything you can do? Resuscitate him or anything? God!" Mike threw a sharp elbow to the ambulance wall in frustration.
"Mr. Dirnt, I'm sorry. We can only try. Drew, you've gotta get a defibrelator right now. If we're going to get him back up and running, we have to do it soon." The second paramedic, Drew, took a bulky machine from the wall and handed it to his boss.
"There you go. I'll count for you, Rick. 1...2...3!" When Drew got to 3, Tre's body was jolted upward from the force of the shock.
"Nothing. We've only got one more time. If it doesn't work this next time..." Rick shrugged explainatively. Drew sighed.
"Alright. 1...2...3...!" Tre's entire body stiffened with the impact. All four of the ambulance's passengers stared at the heart monitor, hoping to see any sort of movement. A small green spike appeared on the screen. Then another, and another. A pattern formed; his heart was going again.
"We did it. We brought him back."
"Holy shit. Thank you. Thank you so much," Billie said. The EMT who had been holding the paddles hugged Mike tightly for several seconds, before pulling away; he, too, was crying.
"So, he's going to be ok then, right?" Mike was holding Tre's hand as he asked the question.
"We still can't guarantee that. The shock and brief stalling of his heart could have caused him to go into a coma. We're going to do some tests, now, to get an idea of his condition. The doctors at the hospital are the ones that have to officialy diagnose him, though," Rick told them. Drew had pried open Tre's eyelid, and was shining a small, bright flashlight into it. He held it on Tre's eye for quite a while, and finally removed it.
"Pupils not responding to light stimulus," he muttered to his boss, who was taking out a small needle. He took the needle, and poked Tre's arm. There was no response. He poked him harder, hard enough to draw a drop of blood. Still, there was no resonse.
"No response to pain stimulus, either. These are both pretty sure signs that he's in a coma, but we don't have the authority to officially diagnose, sir," Rick said to Mike, who nodded silently. He was still clutching Tre's hand.
"So the ER doctors will get you all of the official information. But for now..." Rick shrugged. "All we can do is wait."
"Isn't there anything you can do? Resuscitate him or anything? God!" Mike threw a sharp elbow to the ambulance wall in frustration.
"Mr. Dirnt, I'm sorry. We can only try. Drew, you've gotta get a defibrelator right now. If we're going to get him back up and running, we have to do it soon." The second paramedic, Drew, took a bulky machine from the wall and handed it to his boss.
"There you go. I'll count for you, Rick. 1...2...3!" When Drew got to 3, Tre's body was jolted upward from the force of the shock.
"Nothing. We've only got one more time. If it doesn't work this next time..." Rick shrugged explainatively. Drew sighed.
"Alright. 1...2...3...!" Tre's entire body stiffened with the impact. All four of the ambulance's passengers stared at the heart monitor, hoping to see any sort of movement. A small green spike appeared on the screen. Then another, and another. A pattern formed; his heart was going again.
"We did it. We brought him back."
"Holy shit. Thank you. Thank you so much," Billie said. The EMT who had been holding the paddles hugged Mike tightly for several seconds, before pulling away; he, too, was crying.
"So, he's going to be ok then, right?" Mike was holding Tre's hand as he asked the question.
"We still can't guarantee that. The shock and brief stalling of his heart could have caused him to go into a coma. We're going to do some tests, now, to get an idea of his condition. The doctors at the hospital are the ones that have to officialy diagnose him, though," Rick told them. Drew had pried open Tre's eyelid, and was shining a small, bright flashlight into it. He held it on Tre's eye for quite a while, and finally removed it.
"Pupils not responding to light stimulus," he muttered to his boss, who was taking out a small needle. He took the needle, and poked Tre's arm. There was no response. He poked him harder, hard enough to draw a drop of blood. Still, there was no resonse.
"No response to pain stimulus, either. These are both pretty sure signs that he's in a coma, but we don't have the authority to officially diagnose, sir," Rick said to Mike, who nodded silently. He was still clutching Tre's hand.
"So the ER doctors will get you all of the official information. But for now..." Rick shrugged. "All we can do is wait."
