#timecalled

“Babe! Don’t give up on me! The ambulance is almost here!”

“Come on stay with me!”

“I can’t lose you !”

“Pulse check, hold compressions”

“Just breathe for me!”

“No, you can’t stop!”

“Bag her”

“Get her on the monitor”

“24 year old woman, down ten minutes”

“Last shock, come back to us girl”

“You have to save her!”

“Fuck, I’m not getting a pulse!”

“Clear!”

“Tox screen positive for opiates”

“We did everything we could, but we lost her”

“Nothing is working…should we call it?”

“No pulse on the monitor! Start compressions!”

“Her heart want strong enough this time”

“She didn’t make it”

“Baby, please breathe!”

“Shocking again at 360!”

“Damn it…Nothing”

“Doctor it’s been 40 minutes of resuscitation with no response”

“She’s got a pulse”

“Pushing epi!”

“Sweetie, don’t ever do that again”

“She’s gone”

In the back of the ambulance Lucy worked against the never ending monotone coming out of the monitor connected to Jenny’s bare chest. They were nine minutes out from the hospital when the alarms started going off and Jenny decompensated from alert and engaging to the motionless body in front of her. “Still four minutes out!” Yells Harrison the driver.

Lucy started compressions right away after shocking the initial vfib which went straight to Asystole after the first shock. Her arms were tiring after five straight minutes of compressions broken only by a few pauses to give breaths with the ambu bag. Jenny’s eyes were closed and her head bobbing with each downward thrust into her petite chest. “Stay with me!” Lucy begs.

As the journey from the gym to the hospital where Jenny was found lightheaded with an injured ankle wears on, Lucy continues to work on Jenny knowing that her efforts are likely futile. She gives an amp of epi periodically but it does nothing for Jenny’s standstill heart. “Don’t do this Jenny, you gotta fight!” She screams, but the words land on dead ears as they turn into the ambulance bay.

Lucy climbs on top of Jenny’s half naked body and continues her ruthless assault on her chest as the ER staff pull the gurney out of the ambulance and into the trauma bay. Finally in the room Lucy jumps off and the ER staff takes over compressions. A small blonde nurse places her hands where Lucy’s were and starts pressing down with deep force. Jenny’s whole body sways along with the rhythm.

“How long has she been down?”

“Nine minutes since last rhythm. Two amps of epi given with no response. Continuous CPR the entire time” Lucy reports with sadness in her voice.

“Okay let’s get labs and assess neuro to see if there’s anything left to bring back” the doctor grumbles. The team starts check reflexes, administering more drugs, and starts intubating.

Lucy doesn’t usually stay for this part, normally she’s doing paperwork or heading out in another call, but she can’t leave until this is over. Another fives minutes pass. The doctor announces that pupils are fixed and dilated. Jenny’s been down fourteen minutes without any response.

“Okay, at next pulse check if there’s no response I say we call it… is everyone in agreement?” The doctor asks. Two more minutes pass. “Pulse check…” everyone stops what they are doing and stares at the monitor that makes the same sound it has for the past sixteen minutes.

“Time of death 842 am” the doctor goes to Jenny’s body and places his stethescope on her chest and listens to her lungs and heart. “She’s gone. We did everything we could. If she has family let’s get them in here to say goodbye”.

The conclusion…. with a nice surprise at the end!

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/hiddendreamsstuff/811636778702405633/jennys-arrest-part-2-in-the-ambulance

Aside from the pounding on my chest by the medic, my heart is completely still.

“What do we got?” Asks a new voice.

From above me a flurry of information is spoken quickly. “25 year old woman found unresponsive in the bathroom by girlfriend and roommate. History of congestive heart failure including an arrest in the past. She was down for at least 15 minutes and revived and then coded again 5 minutes ago. 1 dose of epi given this arrest. Currently asystolic”.

“Okay, let’s get her inside!”

While all this is going on someone climbs on top of me, straddling my waist. “5, 4, 3, 2, 1” is counted out and I feel a set of hands pull away from me and another land back on my chest, barely missing a beat in the rhythm of compressions. The compressor is someone new. I can sense the difference in depths of the hands going into my chest. They have a fresh strength compared to the others. Someone continues pumping the bag sending air into my lungs. The gurney is pulled out from the ambulance and is pushed from where my head lies into the ER.

As soon as we enter the ER I can sense that you are both are there with me. I feel a sense of comfort knowing that you came and I am no longer alone.

In the resus bay there is overwhelming commotion around me even though there is nothing going on inside me. Straddled compressions continue by the nurse who has taken over and she hands off the task to someone else. Big, rough hands that cover my entire chest and part of my breasts to the nipple take over and shove my sternum down so deeply my entire body rocks with them.

“Let’s get her on our monitor and get a dose of epi in her”.

You are crying from the corner of the room. “Jenny… please sweetie come back”

I have no power in this situation. I cannot will my heart to beat or my lungs to breathe. I cannot save myself right now. I am in the hands of others who may or may not decide that I am too far gone.

“Please let me live…” I whisper from the other side of the void that I am currently in.

Resus efforts continue for another few minutes, though it feels like hours, before my heart converts again. Paddles are placed on my chest while compressions continue until the very last second before they call “Defib at 360! CLEAR!”

The shock rips across my chest sending my arms outward in a wave like fashion. My entire chest jumps off the table forming an arch between my pelvis and head. As I land my arms jump outwards.

“Again at 360!”

After the second shock. I slam back down and feel myself slipping from my body towards the ceiling.

“Shock her again!” You scream from the other side of the room. But my heart goes back to asystole and the sound rings out through the room. Despite the sound of the hopeless monotone nothing stops: compressions continue, meds are given, air is pumped, fingers press into my neck and groin to check for pulses. Three more minutes pass. I have been down another 17 minutes since the ambulance. Longer than the first time at home.

Suddenly I am watching the whole scene from above. Looking down at the top of the head of the person doing compressions on me, I see the bouncing motion of their upwards and downwards movements, my head following along with the beat as someone holds the bag and squeezes every five seconds or so. I float higher and higher towards the ceiling until i feel myself jerk to a stop. There is only so far I can go when I am still kept alive by the hands of others I suppose.

I feel freer up here. In my body I felt stuck and cold; but here I feel warmth, comfort. Although I also feel I should not be seeing this. Here I feel whole. I feel loved.

But I want to come back. Please let me come back…. I try to move downward as if swimming in deep water, but I cannot make any movement.

I want to look away but my eyes are transfixed on my body- a blanket pulled across my pelvis but revealing my leg where they have placed another IV line. My feet rocking with each deep compression. My closed eyes, my blue lips holding a tube that is connected to a blue bulb being squeezed. Electrodes outline the hands of the person compressing my chest

I recognize only the two of you in the corner, sobbing, crying, begging the doctors to keep going. I want to come to you and comfort you, to tell you to keep fighting for me because I cannot.

More time passes, the dance of the code continues on for another eight minutes with no changes. Numerous rounds of medication are given through the IVs. There is one more round of shocks at 360 but my heart refuses to convert to a living rhythm.

Then….

“How long do we have on the clock?” Asks the doctor to the timekeeper.

“Twenty three minutes and forty five seconds” she says.

“I believe we have done everything we can do. If there is no change on the next pulse check I suggest we call it. Does everyone agree?”

There is a silent decision made amongst the people in the room. Heads nod as eyes avert to the ground away from others. Two minutes slowly creeps by as yet another nurse takes over compressions. Her hands are soft and small, but plunge deeper into my chest as if she is trying to grab my heart through the skin and ribs.

Finally, compression pause and the nurse backs off. I see my body beneath me: broken, bruised, lifeless. I know I am gone and soon will leave this liminal space.

The monotone beep rings out in the room.

“Okay, I’m calling it. Time of death 7:52 am”

“No! No! No! No!” you scream as you collapse to the floor. He tries to catch you but you both end up huddled together in the corner crying. The doctor comes over and tells you to say your goodbyes. The nurses pull the blanket up over my chest and leaves my arms on top at my sides.

I am still here watching the scene unfold below me. It pains me deeply to see the anguish in your faces. The two of you manage to stand up and make your way over, one on each side of the bed and hold my hands. You take my hand to your face as if to have me hold it like I do in the wee hours of the night when you need comforting.

“I love you, baby” you cry and flop your body practically across me, your ear on my chest in the spot where your hands worked so hard to keep my heart going. My heart which is currently still.

It is in that moment, as your body makes connection with mine, that everything goes black: I can no longer see myself or you, just darkness. But then under your ear there is a tiny thump. And then another. I take in a gasp of air and suddenly my eyes burst open, staring at the ceiling where I was just looking down from.

Beep, beep, beep on the monitor.

Imagine a doctor to be stething my chest when my heart suddenly lets out and I go into cardiac arrest right there in the ER hallway….

The doctor jumps on the bed and starts compressions yelling for the nurses to get us to the trauma bay. He straddles me while my bed is rushed past multiple patients and family members all muttering and shocked, my family following close behind.

“Someone start bagging her!” He yells as he switches out compressions as one nurse rips my gown away while another prepares to continue the doctors assault on my chest. She is placing her hands on my chest before he has even climbed off me and pushing my sternum directly into my unbeating heart. Another nurse is pushing meds into my IV while someone else shoves a plastic tube down my throat followed by a mask being held on my face, forcing air into my lungs.

I am the center of everyone’s attention in the ER.

“Come on girl, stay with us” he mutters as he positions himself at the foot of the bed barking orders. My family stands outside the door, sobbing hysterically as the team tries to resuscitate a body that has already died.

Throughout the while code I never have a shockable rhythm despite numerous rounds of meds and continuous compressions from the moment my heart stopped. I stay in PEA and asystole the whole time with no discernible cause. The doctor could have, should have called it sooner, but he was still hearing the echo of the last beat of my heart in his ears.

Finally he looks at the clock: it’s twenty nine minutes later- he checks my pupils and sees they are blown and says solemnly, “We’ve lost her. Time of death 745pm”. My family cries out in the hall hearing his words.

He puts his stethoscope to my chest one final time to listen and confirm there is no pulse. It’s hard to hear the silence over the memory of the last thump my heart made beneath his scope.

(Made some grammar edits and added pics)

As I get off the elevator I hear the code blue being called overhead. I can’t make out the room number, but as I turn the corner of the hospital floor, I see the doctors and nurses rushing into your room. I drop the tray of coffees, that I was holding and run behind them: there are so many they barely notice me standing in the back. I see Nathan standing off to the other side of the room, unreachable. The horror etched in his face is unfathomably painful to watch. Then I turn my eyes towards you.

When I left you were laughing and smiling with us. You were more alive than ever. The doctors gave you the all clear after your surgery to repair a blockage in your intensine. It was scary, but you are set to be discharged in the morning. Or at least you were...

Now, your hospital gown is pulled down to your waist revealing your bare chest and large breasts, the electrodes surrounding them reading your cardiac output along with defibrillator pads. Currently they read a flatline on the screen of the monitor, which emits a loud monotone sound , interrupted only by the beep created by the nurse who is currently giving you deep compressions. Another stands at the head of the bed giving you breaths through a bag while she holds a mask to your face while yet another is at the med cart.

“How long has she been down?” Asks the doctor.

“One minute, thirty seconds” answers the scribe.

“Okay let’s get another round of 1mg epi in her and see if we can get something on the monitor”

“Drawing it up!” Answers the nurse at the med car. She injects it into the IV line in your right arm.

“Three minutes twenty seconds! Switch out on compressions!”

A nurse waiting in the wings waits patiently behind the current compressor who moves to the right allowing her to move in and continue without much interruption. She crushing your chest, practically sending your breasts inward.

“Pulse check! Still asystole…! Her oxygen is tanking. Let’s get her intubated” the doctor moves towards your head. The nurse at the crash cart already has the supplies ready to go and hands them to the doctor. He uses the metal hook to open your throat and insert the tube while compressions continue. He calls for the to pause so he can finish the task and check for breath sounds. His stethoscope gently held on your chest as he inflates your lungs.

“I’m in… Continue CPR!” A new nurse is on your chest. There’s no counting compressions, just continuous thrusts downwards into your heart.

The tears start falling uncontrollably from my eyes. I can barely hold in the sobs that begin to work their way through me. Disbelief overwhelms me, I can’t believe you, my baby sister, is laying in front of me, being resuscitated by nurses and doctors. I don’t even know what went wrong. Your husband stands across the room in a similar manner as me; crying, holding his hand to his face and choking back sobs to not draw attention to himself. “This can’t be real” I think to myself.

“Oxygens improving with intubation but still no change on the monitor. Let’s get another round of epi and bicarbonate this time”

“Seven minutes down” reports the scribe.

“Come on Grace, stay with us” the doctor says with a tone of despair in his voice.

Finally, when he calls the next pulse check a squiggle on the screen appears and the doctor yells “vfib! Shock her at 250j!” The nurse presses the button on the machine. Your body gives off a small convulsion, not fully jumping off the table but moving you in an unnatural way. I feel sick to my stomach seeing it.

“No change, shock again at 300!” The stronger shock sends your back into an arch, your chest reaching up off the bed. You land back down on the backboard that I had not previously noticed with a thud, your arms flying next to you. Your head and breasts sway. Nathan lets out the sob he has been holding in this whole time, while I try to hold in a small shriek.

“Asystole! Continue CPR! Let’s do 2mg of epi and a dose of aminodorine!” The doctor tells the team. “Get them out of here!” He yelled at the nurses who have finished her round of compressions. “They don’t need to see this anymore”

“9 minutes and 15 seconds doctor”

“I know….”

The nurses attempt to gather Nathan and I and escort us to the door, but that is as far as she can get us. We refuse to go further; one attempts to plead with us saying “you don’t need to see this” but we won’t budge. She finally gives up and tells us to stay quiet. Nathan puts his arm around me as I cry into his chest. I feel his body quivering too.

Another nurse has taken over compressions when I look back at you. She leans one knee on the bed so she can deliver them effectively despite her short stature. Two more minutes go by.

“Pulse check! Vfib! Shock at 360!”

This time your whole body jumps with the shock sent across your chest. The thud is fully audible across the room and you land back down, your chest wobbling back and forth. “Again at 360!”

I can’t watch this one: for some reason my mind knows I should not see this. My own heart skips when I hear the thud this time followed by the sound of the monitor sending out a monotone beep.

Compressions are stated again based on the sound of the bed rocking. “15 minutes and she is maxed out on epi. Anyone have any other ideas?”

The room is silent aside from the creaking of the bed as compressions are performed. “Okay. If there’s no change in two minutes we’re calling it”.

“Please Gracie! Please come back!” I cry as I watch through the window. Nathan is still turned away, muttering to himself words I can’t understand.

Two minutes pass painfully slow. I hold my hand to my face, watching between my fingers like a child. When they call for a pulse check the monotone sounds is all that fills the room. The nurse takes the bag off the tube while the other climbs off the bed.

I’m not ready.

“Time of …”

“No! Keep going! Don’t stop!” I hear myself scream. I burst through the door and run to the bed and shake you. “Keep going!” I scream at the nurse. She doesn’t do anything so I jump up on the bed and place my hands on your chest and start pumping your chest as hard as I can. It feels awful: your ribs are soft and making crackling sounds with each push downwards. Tears stream down my face. Nathan runs towards me. “Emily, she’s gone” he says as he tries to pulls me off .

“No! No! Gracie stay with me honey!” I cry as my tears fall on your chest. I try to squirm away from all the hands reaching for me but Nathan manages, with the help of a nurse, to pull me off you. Security rushes in and grabs me from behind as I break down into sobs and fall to the floor.

“I’m ready, call it” Nathan tells the doctor as he kisses your cheek gently.

“Time of death 11:43. Thank you everyone” the doctor says, defeat evident in his voice. “Get her cleaned up”

The security guard stands next to me, making sure I don’t try again as the nurses remove the pads and electrodes leaving sticky spots all over you. They pull the tube out of your mouth and then cover you up to your chest with the sheet.

“Take all the time you need” one says to Nathan, patting him gently on the shoulder as the team clears out of the room. I stay in my spot on the floor sobbing while Nathan sits in a chair at your right and holds your hand in his. After a few minutes I manage to stand and join him, taking your other hand in mine.

I didn’t even get to say goodbye.

The man came running into the trauma bay just as the nurse was finishing her notes on the code. The sheet had already been pulled up over the young woman’s face and they were preparing her for transport to the morgue.

“Oh my God! Kelly! What… what… happened?” He said through his hand covering his mouth as he choked back sobs.

“Are you the husband?”The doctor walked over and put her hand on his shoulder as he cried.

“I’m sorry sir, but your wife was found unconscious by her sister with multiple wounds on her wrist that look self inflicted. We did CPR and gave her medication and a blood transfusion to try and restart her heart and she was defibrillated multiple times. We worked on her for over 35 minutes, but we couldn’t get her back. She was down for too long for any hope to make a meaningful recovery. She was pronounced dead at 456pm this evening. I’m so sorry for your loss”.

Only taking in half of the words the doctor said, the man fell to his knees and sobbed as the nurse pulled the sheet down to reveal his wife’s upper chest and face, the intubation tube still in her throat surrounded by her bluish lips on pale skin. Red spots are sprinkled around the edge of the sheet near her wrists.

Someone helped him up off the floor and walked him over to her body. He placed his shaky hands on her hair and face and gingerly lowered his forehead to hers, tears streaming down his cheeks and falling onto hers. He stood there for a few minutes sobbing until finally he said, “I’m sorry baby, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there”. He kissed her on the hairline and then the corner of her mouth, her skin cool and clammy; then he left without another word.

Amanda continued to agressively give her friend compressions even the woman’s eyes stared blankly at the ceiling above as they had been for 45 minutes. Her bruised chest told the story of a harrowing and difficult attempt to save her life; the IVs and tube down her throat spoke to their valiant efforts to save her, but nothing could bring her back now aside from a miracle.

But the flatline sound on the monitor meant nothing to Amanda other than “we haven’t saved her yet”. She had been a nurse working side by side with Gabby for 11 years and she was not about to let her go now. Amanda would not let Gabby’s nine year old daughter grow up without a mother. A slip and fall while helping Amanda move a patient would not be what killed her.

As she compressed Gabby’s bare chest, which was surrounded by remnants of pink scrubs just like hers, Amanda imagined her friend’s bright blue eyes as they flickered back to life after they administered one last shock that finally brought her back.

But instead when she looked at her face she saw grey and blue and a lifeless stare begging her to let go.

“Amanda! Stop!” Dr Burns urged her. “She has a massive brain bleed. She is gone!”

“No! I can’t… I won’t!” She corrected herself as sweat poured down into her eyes.

“You’re torturing her!” Another nurse yelled as her as she tried to pull her down off the stool. As the woman’s arm touched hers, Amanda swung her elbow back narrowly missing the woman’s nose.

They all knew Gabby. They all were devastated. But grief is impossibly hard. Denial. Anger. Negotiation. All of it was alive in the resus bay.

“Amanda, I’m calling it. Time of death 747pm”

Amanda froze and stopped compressions, almost like muscle memory when she heard time called. Depression filled her. Consumed her. She fell to her knees and cried.

And unfortunate accident that she would never forgive herself for.

Content: time called, intentional overdose, compressions, defibrillations, intubation, devastated lover.

I found you in the tub with an empty bottle on the side. Your head has slid down the side of the tub and your nose is just above the water. Your hair floats around you. I don’t know if you expected me home or not- but here I am, finding you in this state. Terror washes over me.

My initial panic quickly dissolves into action… I call 911 immediately and give them the address. I pull the drain on the tub and I lay the towel out. I put my leg in the water, shoe and all, as I reach under your arms and hug you in towards me pulling you over the edge of the tub. I would have fallen over if not for the rubber of my shoe catching me, but my phone falls into the water with 911 still on the line, as I step out and lay you down to the ground. Your perfect body is completely still and I freeze again watching as your unmoving breasts gaze back at me.

Again, I am pulled to action and find myself on my knees with my ear just above your breast, my cheek on the soft skin and breast tissue itself. It is no surprise that I hear nothing, but my terror increases. “How long have you been like this?” I think to myself, my own breathing quickening. I quickly override my fear and move to your mouth and open it while lifting your neck; with my other hand I pinch your nose and seal my lips onto yours before blowing in. It does not seem you have ingested water as the breath makes your chest rise and fall, but your wet body is glistening under the harsh lights of the bathroom.

Now the moment I have been dreading…. I straddle you and place the my heels of my hands between your nipples and push down hard on your sternum. I immediately feel your ribs bend and crack. I let out a whimper, but push myself to keep going. “One two three four five six seven eight nine ten…” I count outloud trying to keep my mind focused on the movement and not the panic.

Tears stream down my face as I continue compressions followed by more exhalations into your lungs, your chest rising into mine as I do so. I put my ear to your naked chest just to be sure there is no pulse, as if that was not obvious already. “Nothing… nothing… fuck!” I whisper. I continue pressing deeply into your chest pumping your heart, your stomach rising into my own pelvis. I realize I have no other tools to save you; the ambulance is supposed to be on its way, my phone still in the tub I can’t tell how long I have even been doing this…. “Come on baby…” I scream out loud, but think to myself “how could you do this to me?”

I continue this process for what seems like forever until I hear the sirens followed by the front door being banged in. I don't stop, even though ever muscle in my body is burning and my heart is pounding. As I am breathing into you again, a medic pushes me out of the way and puts an ambu bag on you while a woman starts pumping your chest hard and fast. It is only out of shear exhaustion that I let them take over- I dont have the strength to fight them... I fall backwards into the side of the tub at your feet and let out a blood curdling scream, which does not phase your rescuers at all.

Your body is under their control now as they begin hooking you up to the monitor with leads and they assess your airway. They quickly decide to intubate you because you have been down for at least 15 minutes, which really means I have been working on you for 15 minutes prior to their arrival... who knows how long you have really been unconscious...

The woman continues pumping until the man takes a plastic hook and places it down your throat followed by a tube. He yells, "I'm in" and the woman begins pumping again. Another medic is monitoring your heart rate on the screen. They yell out for the woman to stop compressions for a pulse check. "Not shockable. Continue compressions," they say.

The medic notices the bottle on the floor and starts to question me about how much you took. All I can do is shake my head that I don't know. "How long was she down before you called?" I shake my head again. I am totally useless now that I have stopped working on you. The medic shakes their head, "Lets try some Narcan...," they say as they take a syringe out of the bag.

The woman never stops pumping and I am mesmerized by the continuous up and down motion of the compressions. . I watch your breasts cave in towards each other with intrigue. I barely notice the man who is bagging you at this point, but see your chest inflate occasionally. Nothing feels real right now.

After the medic inserts the syringe in your arm, followed by another they say, "epi is in, narcan is in- continue compressions for 30 seconds and we will do a pulse check and switch positions". Compressions are paused and the man and woman switch places. "Okay, we have a shockable rhythm. Going to shock her at 200j!" The medic takes the paddles and places them on your chest. "CLEAR!" Your chest jumps jump off the ground, your tiny breasts peaks of a mountain.... you fall back to the ground. "Nothing, shocking at 300! CLEAR!" Again, I watch your torso shoot up to the sky and fall back down. "Nothing continue compressions!" The man takes over and forces your chest into the ground even harder, crushing your chest and my soul at the same time.

I whimper and cry quietly as I watch. The team continues this routine for another fifteen minutes after the first round of shocks. They shock you two more sets of times, give numerous syringes of drugs, and endless compressions before the medic says "We have been working on her for 20 minutes and there were 15 before that. She has been a-systole for 8. We have shocked her 5 times at 360 and she is maxed out on drugs. Her total down time is unknown" says the medic... The others stare at them unsure what to say as I continue to be motionless in the corner of the room. "I think we have to call it" says the woman as she compresses your chest, having switched back to her initial position. She stops pumping and slowly pulls her hands back across your chest, her fingers brushing your nipples which are hard and erect from the cold air.