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Tyne grabbed a flashlight from a nearby shelf, and gently opening Barry’s eyelids, she shone the light onto each pupil. She winced at what she saw. She took a blood pressure cuff and wrapped it around Barry’s upper arm. Before she placed the stethoscope in her ears, she heard a loud wail from the corridor, and recognized Steve’s agonized voice pleading with Jim Rushmore to let him see Barry.
As the wailing continued in the corridor, the door to the emergency room burst open to admit a tall man with tousled fair hair, wearing a sports jacket over a pajama top. He nodded to her and proceeded to the stretcher.
Tyne tried to keep the panic out of her voice. “I think he’s just stopped breathing, Dr. Crawford,” she said briefly. “Pupils unequal and not reacting.”
“Thanks, Tyne. I need to intubate.”
She opened a cupboard and removed a tray with a laryngoscope and a variety of endotracheal tubes. She squeezed intubation jelly onto a paper towel on the tray and placed the apparatus on a table near Dr. Crawford’s right hand.
Within seconds the skilled physician had inserted a tube into the young man’s trachea and attached it to the anesthetic machine. His left hand kept up a steady rhythm as it pumped the black bag on the machine, pumping air into Barry’s lungs.
“B.P. dropping, Doctor … 68 over 40.”
“Great Scott! Tyne, come here and keep squeezing this bag. I’m going to call Dr. Jefferies in Medicine Hat. He’ll need to operate.”
Tyne drew in a quick breath. “Burr holes?” she said. When Dr. Crawford nodded, her heart sank. Her worst fears were confirmed. Dr. Crawford suspected that Barry had a severe head injury and was bleeding into the brain. Drilling burr holes into the cranium would relieve the pressure by helping the blood escape. But would there be time? If Dr. Jefferies, the neurosurgeon, had to come all the way from Medicine Hat, could he possibly get here in time to save Barry’s life?
Libros Libertad 