PHANTOM OF A CHANCE (Part 5/?) By Missy (missy@lexicon.net) DISCLAIMER: The characters that you recognise from ER are the property of Michael Crichton, Warner Bros, Constant Productions and Amblin Television and to the actors who so marvellously portray them. Minor Season 5 spoilers up to and including Nobody Doesn't Like Amanda Lee. WARNING: This story does get rather gory and explicit in terms of injuries sustained. If you are under 15 years or have a weak stomach for details, I would think twice before reading. But then again, if you watch ER, you can't be too badMany thanks must go to my editors Susan Drake and Carolyn Delaney for their tireless and marvellous editing and for providing me with wonderful suggestions for the story. Mark checked the admit board. The numbers were quickly rising as ambulances had been delivering not only the critically injured but also the minor injuries. Disaster protocol had been implemented by the staff. Large trolleys bearing a wide variety of medical supplies, occupied spaces which almost seemed too small for them. The supplies that had originally been stacked until no more could fit, were quickly disappearing as more victims arrived. "Randi, have you contacted Dr. Goldberg yet?" Mark came to the admit desk, since the young boy in Exam One being stabilised capably by Anna and Jeanie, while they were waiting for a surgical consult. "Yep. I think I interrupted his beauty sleep though." Randi gave a quick grin at Mark before entering more data into the computer. The phones had given her a temporary respite but it was doubtful that it would last. She had left the management of distraught relatives in the hands of Vince who was handling them with tentative care. As Randi watched surreptitiously, she noticed that he seemed to have a flair for calming down their fears. "Hmm. Not happy, huh?" Mark rolled his neck and flexed his legs to get the circulation going. Each time he slowed down, he felt the weight of tiredness resting heavily on him. When he finally finished, he was going to drop into bed and forget the world for at least twenty-four hours. "That would be the polite way of saying it." Randi felt a small sense of satisfaction in not only angering Dr. Weaver's brother but also the Chief of Emergency Services. "How long before he arrives?" "He should be here any moment now." Mark headed down to the Trauma Rooms. Sweeping his way into Trauma One, he was shocked to find Elizabeth being lifted onto a gurney by Malik, Sam and Conni. "What happened?" "Dr. Corday collapsed," Carter reported shortly, his attention intent on the boy on the table. Following Elizabeth's collapse, the young boy had started seizing once again. Carter had no choice but to leave Elizabeth's care in someone else's hands. "Lily, 15 migs per kilo of dilantin. He would weigh approximately 25 kilos." "Probably from exposure to a chemical. You can smell it on her clothes," Sam explained. "She also hit her head on the gurney as she fell." Letting out a long breath, Mark felt the weight of responsibility falling on his shoulders heavily. "Sam, take Dr. Corday out into Exam Room Four. Get Randi to put a call through to the accident scene and find out what sort of chemical we're dealing with." Malik helped Sam guide the gurney with Elizabeth out of the trauma room, providing the other staff with room once again in which to move and treat James Pearson. "How many seizures now?" "This is number seven." "Good work, Carter. "Have you got any x-rays?" "We're still waiting on radiology." Carter and Connie rolled the boy back onto his back, now that his seizing had once again stopped. "Not any longer," The radiology technician commented blandly as he rolled in the cumbersome machine. He was used to the remarks in times of crisis, which was not uncommon in the ER, and had learned to ignore them. "Carter, get an EEG as well. You may need to consider barbiturate coma or an intercranial pressure monitor," Mark commented. In young children with head injuries, it was undesirable to put a patient into barbiturate coma except in the most serious situations. The only way to give James Pearson the best chance of survival was to do exactly that. It took a balancing act on the part of the emergent physician to know at what stage to make such a decision. "I'll check on how Maggie is doing with the father. I'll also get some consents signed." Mark pushed open the connecting door between the trauma rooms. "What's the call?" Mark was surprised when Lucy responded. Maggie gave a smile at the quickly covered shock which flashed across his face. Having had some words with Lucy about positive attitudes towards her work, Maggie had seen a pleasing improvement in the quality of her work. "Robert Pearson, 45 years old with stable vitals. Probable fractures of the left and right tibia. Distal pulses are two plus and equal." "Where's my wife and children? Are they all right? Please, you've got to tell me." "We're taking care of your family. Right now, I need you to let Dr. Doyle and Ms. Knight take care of you. I will let you know about your family as soon as I can." Mark spoke quietly to Mr. Pearson, his whole demeanour soothing the patient fraught with fear. Mark heard the warning signs from the next room, the flat mechanical yet ominous call of death. Ignoring the pleas in the man's eyes, Mark went back to Trauma One pulling a pair of latex gloves from the box, another glove falling to the ground from the box with the force of his pull. - 0 0 0 - "How much longer do you think they will be?" Kerry asked tiredly, moving her legs just enough to stop them from going to sleep. The firemen had been using the jaws of life, trying to pry open the rear door to the van. Surreptitiously she glanced at her watch, aware that precious time was slipping away. "I don't know. It takes a lot longer when they have to do it manually," Doris replied. Her hands were already tired again. They had been alternating the responsibility for the ambu-bag between them. While she had been involved in serious traumas in the past, this was one of the worst. Being stuck in this fume-ladden van was not making her feel any better. She would give anything at the moment to be on an administrative training day. Doris had caught Kerry looking at her watch and gave her a half-hearted smile. Kerry began her routine again, checking the output from the chest tube. She quickly calculated the amount of blood lost and the number of units of saline they had given. Next, it was Kirsty's vital signs which had been falling each time she checked and a fear ran through her that she was going to helplessly watch Kirsty die. - 0 0 0 - Dr. Craig Goldberg swept his way into Exam Two. "What have you got?" "Eight year old boy with head and chest injuries. Two IV's of normal saline. BP's steady at100 over 60. He's received 15 litres of Oý by mass. I've spun a crit at 28. He had bilateral pneumothorax and we've placed in chest tubes and 300 cc's of whole blood on board." Dr. Goldberg gave a grunt of acknowledgement which in no way gave any sense of approval of her handling of the case. Turning towards Jeanie, his displeasure at seeing her was obvious. His deep voice filled the room, "I thought I had made it quite clear that you were to triage and fast track. You were to handle no trauma cases." "Yes but this a major crisis. You need all personnel available and I am a fully qualified PA." "I said triage and fast track. I do not want you in a trauma room with me. Is that clear?" "Very clear." Jeanie stripped her gloves and tossed them into the hazardous waste basket, her back stiff from the dressing down she had just received in front of fellow staff members. Anna was stunned by his attack on Jeanie. She had not been aware that Goldberg had relegated Jeanie to triage but after his stinging attack, she realised that Jeanie's presence in the ER had only been in triage and fast-track for the past week. "Dr. Goldberg, I don't know what you have against Jeanie personally and I don't care, but we need her in the ER. This is not just any standard trauma we are dealing with here, we have mass casualties being brought in and this is not the time to let petty differences influence our treatment." "My dear girl, this is not about petty grievances, this is about law suits. I do not intend to discuss this with you." Anna's eyes blazed with indignant anger and sheer frustration and she bit on the inside of her lip to prevent her saying something she would regret later. She was truly beginning to comprehend the rumours about the Chief's high and mighty attitude. "His BP is dropping and his pulse is tachy." Yosh warned breaking the impasse between the two doctors.