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remorsefulkittens · 1 year

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Paramedic May...Or Maybe Not

Rating: General

Status: Complete (2,883 words)

@911bingo Square: Paramedic May Grant

Summary: May rides along with Chimney and Hen, but paramedic life may not be for her.

Read on Ao3

May Grant was by no means a quitter; she was strong-willed, determined, and rarely backed down from a challenge. That morning she was going to be the star ride along of the 118…now it was 11:47, not even noon, and her optimism was waning.

“Grab my bag will you?” Chim called, jogging toward their fourth call of the morning, a cyclist who rode down a flight of cement steps. “And be quick, Grant! This isn’t the call center, you need to use your legs.”

May didn’t miss the wink Chim directed at Hen, or the amusement that tugged at Hen's lips. It was all in good fun she supposed, but she had been lugging bags, running and fetching all morning, and that was the best part…the rest of the time she was getting puked on, or wanting to puke herself. Before today she'd had no way of knowing just how gruesome a third degree burn could be, or how far away you had to be when a kid projectile vomited, and if that weren’t enough, she was pretty sure she could see bone sticking out of this next guy’s ankle.

Joining her partners for the day, she hid to wince, taking in the compound fracture Hen was stabilizing.

“Ok May,” Hen said, glancing up to make sure she had her attention. “You can see the bleeding is under control, so we want to cover the open wound with a sterile dressing, then we can splint it…very carefully, and…are you watching?”

May nodded, turning her grimace into an unnatural sort of smile. Bike guy looked like he was barely holding it together, but May had learned her lesson about offering pained, panicked people her hand. Her fingers were still aching courtesy of their burn victim.

“Shock is our enemy of course, but we will keep an eye on that in the rig,” Hen went on, while May tried not to focus on just how white bone is in the sun, when you let it outside of the skin. “Let’s move him Chim,” she ordered, gesturing at the stretcher.

“What about my bike?” The patient spoke up worriedly. “Can we take it with us?”

Chim grinned, helping to heft the injured man without jostling his leg.

“Sure,” he said, “May here will grab it.”

Their next few calls were less bloody, but they hardly fell into the emergency category. Hen lectured a man who bit his tongue eating pizza, a woman who lost her ticket and was ‘trapped' in a parking garage, and a man whose wife wouldn’t let him leave the house until he admitted he was having an affair.

May had to admit she was exhausted by the time they responded to an expansive home in the hills, where three frantic teens, reeking of marijuana, were stressing over their stoned friend who had climbed a tree before falling fast asleep.

“Man! How are we gonna get him down?” The blondest of the teen boys asked, latching onto Chimney’s arm, eyes glassy and unfocused.

May shook her head, shading her eyes so she could see the dark haired kid, perched precariously on a jutting limb, a good 25 feet off the ground. She resisted the urge to laugh nervously, taking her cue from Hen who was also gazing up into the tree, poker faced.

“Well,” Chimney said, patting the blonde boys shoulder reassuringly, “our friends in the fire engine are right behind us. They’ll climb up and get him down…until then, let’s not startle him.”

Everyone stared up, holding their breath. May leaned over and whispered to Chimney.

“Aren’t you worried?” Side-eyeing the stoner kids, wondering if they were too high to realize their friend could fall and die. She was mirroring Chim and Hen's casual stance, but inside she was horrified that all they could do was stand by and wait.

Chimney turned his head to look her in the eye. “Hell yes, but let's not tell them that,” he nodded to the teens. “The ladder truck was only minutes behind us. Hen radioed them so the siren is off, but they’re coming.”

The ladder truck did arrive, quietly, and they worked swiftly, with no shouting of orders this time. The truck was positioned, Eddie raised the ladder, and Buck climbed up to secure a harness on the kid, all miraculously, without waking him. Bobby stepped up beside May to give her shoulder a squeeze, and she smiled at him even though she wanted to weep with relief.

Once Buck had the confused teen on the ladder, everyone on the ground whooped and cheered. May acknowledged that being out in the field wasn’t so different from the call center; there was a time to keep quiet, a time to focus, and a time for loud celebration. Just, at the call center there were a lot less bodily fluids, May reflected, as the formerly treed kid looked up to where he'd been, turned, and vomited all over Buck.

Delivering babies was both the best and worst of paramedic life, Hen told May on their way to yet another call. Labouring mothers were unpredictable, and you had to develop a feel for which were about to deliver, and which just needed reassurance and a ride to the hospital. The miracle, Hen said, was when you heard the baby cry, and it never got old, but getting there could set your teeth on edge.

Despite Hen's gentle warning, May couldn’t help her excitement. The birth of a baby was a celebration, and being a part of it had to be rewarding. May had coached a few pregnant women as a dispatcher, staying on the line until the medics arrived. Those calls gave her the best feeling because after all the pain and worry, there was joy. In person, May reasoned, it could only be better.

It was a poor neighborhood they pulled up to, and a tiny ramshackle house. They exited the ambulance in a hurry when a frantic man, not much older than May, ran out to usher them inside. May grabbed a bag without being told, feeling energized, but suddenly guarded, hearing the guttural noises from their patient as they stepped through the door.

The woman, so young, probably a teenager still, was lying was on the living floor in a makeshift bed of cushions and blankets. In the corner was a children’s inflatable pool, that Hen scrutinized before kneeling beside the labouring mom.

“We heard that giving birth in water was better for the baby…” the young father defended, misinterpreting Hen's interest for disapproval, the real concern being the amount of blood in the water.

“When did she get out of the pool?” Hen asked him, feeling for a pulse.

“Um, just before I called you. She was hurting really bad…I mean worse than before. She's been at this all day, since early this morning. We-uh-well we couldn’t afford a hospital birth.”

May reached out to lay and hand on his arm, trying to offer some comfort. He turned wary eyes on her.

“What are your names?” May asked, wanting to connect.

“I’m Andrew,” he told her in a shaky voice, “and that’s Lila,” he motioned, “we're married. She's my wife.”

May nodded, gripping his hand. Together they watched Chimney place an oxygen mask over Lila's face, while Hen lifted the blankets to find out how imminent the baby’s birth was. The grim smile she turned on May and Andrew wasn’t reassuring.

“I can see your baby's head,” she said, “but your wife is bleeding a lot. We need to deliver before we transport. Then, hopefully, we can control the bleeding. Be ready to move.” Hen gave May a meaningful look that spoke volumes.

Then Chimney was radioing for another ambulance, Hen was urging the exhausted mom to push and push hard, and Andrew raced to her side while May stayed rooted to the spot. The mood in the room was far from joyful anticipation, and all she could do was stare wide-eyed, while Hen guided the baby straight from its mother’s womb, into the world. There was no cry as Hen handed the newborn off to Chim, and started grabbing up all the padding she could to stem the flow of blood that followed.

May felt frozen, but when Hen summoned her she went, pulling on gloves, holding pressure, doing exactly what she was told, trying not to think. Another ambulance arrived and whisked the baby away, Lila was transferred carefully to the stretcher, and the whole ambulance ride was Hen trying desperately to revive their patient, while Chim drove as fast as he could, lights and sirens blaring.

“I’m sorry May,” Hen said softly, perching beside her on the back of the rig, still parked in the emergency bay. “You shouldn’t have had to see that, and I certainly shouldn’t have asked you to help.”

May shook her head. She wasn’t upset about that. She was only upset that the world could be so harsh, and that immeasurable suffering went unnoticed everyday. She sure didn’t notice. Not really. Not even from her dispatch job.

“What if they'd been in a hospital?” May asked, throat tight.

Hen sighed, and wrapped an arm around May's shoulders. “Things might have been different. They might have still gone wrong. Pre natal care would have helped. The placenta attached low. The doctors could have done a C-section.”

May held back tears because she wasn’t a child. She came on this ride along to learn the job, and this was the job.

“They both could have lived?” She asked, meeting Hen's eyes, daring her to tell the whole truth.

“There's a good chance.” Hen told her, frowning. “There are free clinics and county hospitals. They should have found help.”

May shook her head angrily. “Andrew said their families wouldn’t even help. How were they supposed to know they could count on strangers?!”

Hen hugged her close for a minute. “May, in this job there are going to be times, lots of times, when you just can’t make sense of the things you see. All you can do is dwell on the good calls, and let the bad ones go.”

“I don’t want this job!” May cried adamantly, burrowing closer to Hen.

“That’s fair,” Hen said, stroking her hair. “That’s totally fair.”

The last call they attended, after May assured Hen and Chimney she could continue, was something of a tonic.

It came from an older lady who lived in a pretty little house surrounded by beautiful, well-tended gardens. She had fallen and called 9-1-1, reluctantly, from the cell phone her daughter bought and made her carry. May braced herself to see this woman, who clearly took such pride in her home, taken to hospital, then straight from there to some nursing home, where she would be stuck while all her plants died.

Hen knelt down next to the embarrassed woman to check vitals, while Chim positioned himself on the other side. May got the impression they'd done this before.

“Can you tell me your name?” Hen asked, satisfied that pulse and respirations were in normal range.

The woman smiled apologetically up at all of them. “It’s Eloise, but you know that,” she gave a deep sigh. “I know the country, the date, the city, and the President too. I’m really ok. It's just my arthritis…makes it impossible to get up once I’m so far down, if you know what I mean.”

May could see it. Eloise had toppled into one of her garden beds, a fairly soft landing, but the raised edge made getting up a challenge.

Hen and Chimney had no problem getting the tiny woman up and back inside the house, once they were satisfied she had no serious injuries. She refused transport to the hospital, kindly, but had a few requests.

“You folks can make yourselves comfortable,” she told them, “lots to eat in the fridge. I know you’re busy but I’m hoping you can open my pill bottles for me…my hands don’t want to do it anymore.”

Chimney picked up the bottles on the table one by one, checking the labels, and opening the lids.

“El, how long has it been since you took your pills?” He asked gently, motioning for May to get a glass of water.

“Just a few days,” she answered quickly, eyes downcast. “I’d hate for anyone to think I cant manage on my own. I do just fine! It's the finicky things is all. Like these bottles.”

May handed over the glass of water, and Hen joined them with a sandwich she had thrown together.

“Eat something because those pills can make you dizzy if you don’t,” Hen advised, “and El, the pharmacy will put your pills in a blister pack. Something easy to open. I’ll call right now,” Hen told her, pulling out her phone.

Eloise looked surprised and grateful. She didn’t say anything though, turning eyes on May who was taking in the tidy house with it's whimsical décor.

“Your home is really beautiful,” May said sincerely, “you must like to decorate.”

Eloise’s house was not the blast from the past many senior's homes were. It was a showcase of her life, from the photo's on the wall and travel memento's, to the stylish but comfortable furniture, covered in plush throws, and colorful cushions.

“I Iike to buy things,” Eloise chuckled, “you have to be nice to yourself. Took me awhile to learn that, but it’s good advice. Helps if your bastard of a husband dies and leaves you all his money too!”

May, and Hen who had finished her phone call, both laughed along with her at that, while Chimney shook his head.

“Wow, El, what are you teaching this girl?”

That only made her grin wickedly. “Oh, if she keeps coming back I can teach her all the good stuff!” Eloise pinned May with a interested gaze. “Seriously, come on back. Visit with me. I can teach you piano, gardening, or better yet to how to make a man-"

“Whoa there!” Hen cut her off, thoroughly amused. “I’m not sure May is ready for all your trade secrets yet, El.”

Eloise was determined though, wagging a finger at them all. “Sooner she learns the better! I’ll tell you, May is it? You can’t be afraid to fail. That fear kept me in a worthless marriage for far too long! If you don’t succeed at one thing, that’s no proof you won’t be good at the next. Remember that! It's why I’m a gardener, piano player, seamstress, and not particularly good at any of them!”

El cackled with good humor, but May’s mind went instantly to school, particularly her reluctance to go, and she wondered if she was so easy to read. Slowly, she nodded.

“So? Pick a day. Come back and see me.” The woman insisted, face all lit up so that May couldn’t help smiling back at her.

“I’m free this weekend,” she offered, genuinely curious about what this lady might have to offer.

“That’ll do fine,” Eloise winked at her, “and don’t bring these two. They're alright, but I see them so often it's getting dull.”

By the time they had dragged themselves back to the 118 station house, cleaned and restocked the rig, May felt wrung out. It had been a long day with some terrible low's, and though May wasn’t sorry she'd rode along, she knew she was not a paramedic in the making.

“How was it?” Bobby asked, as May, Hen and Chim, joined the crew at the table for dinner. “Learn something new?”

“Oh, plenty!” May returned truthfully, glancing at all the faces around the table. She admired them, more than ever, and she respected their courage and resilience. Someday she hoped that she would have the same fortitude, but for today, she was being kind to herself and admitting that she did not yet. “It was really something,” was all she said though.

“We had some tough calls, but May powered through,” Chimney told everyone. “She should be proud.”

“That’s for sure,” Hen chimed in, snatching the dinner rolls from her partner. “Best ride along we've ever had.”

Bobby beamed, clapping his hands together. “Excellent news! Maybe we can add her to the 118 family? After some training of course.”

May held up her hands to ward off the very idea. “Oh, no thanks Bobby,” she said, shaking her head wildly, “I mean I got the message with Eloise, that not all calls are bad, and there is a lot of good to be done…I assume you guys keep that lady in her home? Showing up whenever she calls? I’m even looking forward to visiting with her, but even if helping people is for me, the paramedic life is not! I’ll find another way. I’m going to open that course catalogue from USC and figure it out. I promise.”

There was silence and May had a moment to worry her speech had offended the whole team…but then they all burst into laughter. Eventually, May joined in.

“Good to hear,” Bobby said, dipping his head toward her.

“Sky's the limit, May,” Hen chimed in.

“Seconded!” Chimney added.

“Good luck May!” They all cheered, making her blush gratefully.

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