02-05-2014, 07:07 PM
Torri's hands ran over Michael's chest. He had two puncture wounds, one superficial, the other, disturbingly deep. She peeled back the outer layer of his jacket to get a sense of endangered anatomy. Thankfully, the wound to the shoulder was unlikely to have hit the brachial arteries, the main blood supply to the entire arm. If it had, he would have been a fountain of red. The other, the wound in his chest, was too lateral to hit the apex of the heart, but the sound of his voice was raspy, and his throat strained to pull in air. A lung had been pierced, no doubt. A lobe was collapsed.
The calm in his voice chilled her to the bones, but she'd seen incredible men wounded to an inch of their life behave as perfect gentlemen. Shock did that to a man, and the CCD made sure their elite were trained to not overreact.
She waved away his gratitude. She hadn't saved his life yet. Strings of information followed, spilled from lips likely worried that if they didn't speak now they would never get it out. Torri would hear nothing of it. She already retrieved her assigned Wallet, tossed it on the desk and powered up a face to face device. Her hands were too busy, and smeared in blood. She had to communicate by voice. Michael had to go unanswered for now. "I saw enough. Now don't speak."
She said, command cold. That would have to satisfy him for now. Torri couldn't think about what she saw anyway.
The device recognized her voice, "I have a life threatening situation."
She was already running Mobius across his chest. The Wallet-based ultrasound device transmitted live sonography data back to the hospital unit which they were already in route to their location. Her mind raced through the equipment needed. Any portable stabilization equipment would be on board the gurney. As soon as she had a can plug in hand, pro-coagulation foam was going to fill up the puncture wounds until they could get Michael in surgery. He was definitely going to need surgery to repair the damage.
She breathed a sigh of relief. "You're going to be okay, Michael, but its going to be hard to breathe and feel like you're underwater. Stay calm and take one breath at a time. Spit up blood and mucus if you feel it in your throat but try not to cough too hard and don't swallow it. You'll be vomiting soon if you do."
The expulsion of vomit was likely forceful enough to rip open those stab wounds all over again.
With all the smoke in the air, Torri coughed herself. She risked taking a hand off his chest long enough to lower his chair as far as it would go in order to get his face beneath it, but quickly returned to holding pressure. She clenched her teeth, but was otherwise calm and clinical. The evac unit should be here any moment.
The calm in his voice chilled her to the bones, but she'd seen incredible men wounded to an inch of their life behave as perfect gentlemen. Shock did that to a man, and the CCD made sure their elite were trained to not overreact.
She waved away his gratitude. She hadn't saved his life yet. Strings of information followed, spilled from lips likely worried that if they didn't speak now they would never get it out. Torri would hear nothing of it. She already retrieved her assigned Wallet, tossed it on the desk and powered up a face to face device. Her hands were too busy, and smeared in blood. She had to communicate by voice. Michael had to go unanswered for now. "I saw enough. Now don't speak."
She said, command cold. That would have to satisfy him for now. Torri couldn't think about what she saw anyway.
The device recognized her voice, "I have a life threatening situation."
She was already running Mobius across his chest. The Wallet-based ultrasound device transmitted live sonography data back to the hospital unit which they were already in route to their location. Her mind raced through the equipment needed. Any portable stabilization equipment would be on board the gurney. As soon as she had a can plug in hand, pro-coagulation foam was going to fill up the puncture wounds until they could get Michael in surgery. He was definitely going to need surgery to repair the damage.
She breathed a sigh of relief. "You're going to be okay, Michael, but its going to be hard to breathe and feel like you're underwater. Stay calm and take one breath at a time. Spit up blood and mucus if you feel it in your throat but try not to cough too hard and don't swallow it. You'll be vomiting soon if you do."
The expulsion of vomit was likely forceful enough to rip open those stab wounds all over again.
With all the smoke in the air, Torri coughed herself. She risked taking a hand off his chest long enough to lower his chair as far as it would go in order to get his face beneath it, but quickly returned to holding pressure. She clenched her teeth, but was otherwise calm and clinical. The evac unit should be here any moment.