Hard To Breathe, page 36
part #2 of Drake Cody Series
“You too, Rizz. We’re with you all the way, no matter what happens.” Drake rested a hand on Rizz’s shoulder. “Love you, brother.”
They touched glasses and tossed down the amber heat. Rachelle coughed and her eyes watered.
“Geez, uncool of me to be giving an ICU patient booze,” Rizz said.
“I’m okay, Michael. Thank you for the toast.” Rachelle smiled. “I’m so happy. It’s a dream come true. The only thing that could make it better is if you recover.” She flushed and looked away.
“Drake, will you adjust the blanket by my feet?” Rizz said.
Drake bent and saw that Rizz only had socks on and the blanket had slid off to the side.
Rizz put his hands under his thigh and lifted his leg. “Put the blanket under and I’ll set my foot on it. Then you can wrap it.”
Drake placed the tail of the blanket below and behind Rizz’s raised foot. Drake looked up, waiting. Rizz had both hands clasped behind his head and a big-as-the-sun smile on his face.
“I’ve never been so happy to have my feet feel cold.” Rizz wiggled his toes, then lowered his foot.
The End
Thank you for investing your valuable reading time with Drake and company.
The third book in the Drake Cody series is Wrongful Deaths and is available on Amazon and elsewhere. Nerve Damage is book one of the series. Several more episodes are anticipated.
Visit the author’s website, www.tom-combs.com, or find Tom Combs author on Facebook. Contact Tom at tcombsauthor@gmail.com He attempts to respond to every communication.
Recommendations to friends and reviews are greatly appreciated.
Acknowledgments
I want to thank all those I worked with and learned from at three incredible institutions. Hennepin County Medical Center, the University of Cincinnati Hospital, and North Memorial Medical Center (eighteen years at this top-ranked level one trauma and medical facility). My special gratitude to the nurses, doctors, and many others at North Memorial Medical Center who were there for me when I needed them most.
Special thanks to Jodie Renner (www.JodieRennerEditing.com) who, once again, went far beyond the call of duty in helping me get this book to press—an outstanding editor and friend.
Thanks to Michael (Sears) Stanley, author of the award-winning Detective Kubu Mystery series, for his generous guidance. Thank you to Laura Childs, NYT bestselling author, for her incredibly generous support.
Big thanks to my friends, especially Tom Holker and Bruce Johnson, for their perceptive input and encouragement.
I want to acknowledge those who provided technical expertise and feedback on Hard to Breathe: Tim Combs (25-year police veteran), Scott Anderson (attorney/CPA), Donna Hirschman (ER/critical care nursing), Robert Daun (literary review/story consultant), John Molnar (ER medicine/healthcare administration knowledge), Anne Hutchinson Horn (flight nurse/critical care nursing), Jayne Klukas (laboratory technologist), Michael Morse (paramedic, fire/rescue) and more.
At times I compromised authenticity for the sake of drama. Any and all errors are mine.
Thank you to Mike Lance (Mike@theLances.info), whose formatting, design, and technical expertise ensured that the book and eBooks reached you in good form.
The cover concept was executed by Travis Miles.
Thank you to my wife, Michele, my son, Brian, and my daughter, Kristin, for their support.
I must also take the opportunity to apologize to healthcare providers and administrators. For the sake of storytelling, I omitted or altered details of some medical procedures and practices (e.g. Air Care flights without paramedics or flight nurses), and described negative behaviors unlike any I have witnessed.
Thank you, readers! I appreciate your time and am thrilled each and every time I hear that someone enjoyed my work. I love to get feedback and respond to all correspondence.
***
About the Author
Tom Combs’ career as an ER physician provides the foundation for his unforgettable characters and riveting plots. His emotional engagement arises from twenty-five years of helping those facing illness, trauma, and tragedy.
Nerve Damage, book one of the Drake Cody series, immerses the reader in high-level intrigue and edge-of-your-seat suspense. The events are tomorrow’s headlines credible, with surprises unfolding to the final page.
Book three in the series is titled Wrongful Deaths and puts the reader on the front lines of the opioid epidemic and at the heart of its consequences as Drake and those he loves become targets facing overwhelming odds.
Tom lives with his artist wife near family and friends in a suburb of Minneapolis/St. Paul. Visit his website at www.tom-combs.com or communicate via email at tcombsauthor@gmail.com.
Excerpt from the next book in the series Wrongful Deaths:
...Drake slapped the switch, silencing the overhead alarm with one hand as he pressed the transmit key of the radio with the other. “Dr. Cody here.”
“Ambulance 724. Three minutes out with a twenties-year-old black female, narcotic overdose, status post Narcan.” Drake knew this paramedic. The veteran’s voice sounded tight. “She was down, looked dead, zero respirations. She snapped to after the Narcan and is now out of control.” Drake heard shrieking in the background. “She’s got a little belly bump—could be early pregnancy. She’s too wild to assess, but I think something bad besides the OD is going on. She needs the Crash Room. ETA two minutes.”
“10-4.” Drake pivoted toward the Crash Room.
The station secretary stood across the corridor with headset on and hand poised over her console.
“Please call a Med Team Stat to Crash Room three,” Drake said.
The secretary's hospital-wide page sounded overhead as Drake entered the Crash Room. His mind flashed through the likeliest of the life-threatening conditions that might be headed his way. He reflexively linked each possibility to the critical interventions that might be needed.
Nurses, EMTs, and the rest of the resuscitation team scrambled into the room and made ready. The Life Clock above bay three had been triggered, and large red numerals flashed the seconds and minutes since the radio call. For patients needing the Crash Room, every second mattered.
Drake moved to the head of the bed and flicked on the high-intensity lights, illuminating the white linens, monitors, and wall-mounted array of glistening chrome instruments. The team looked his way. He spoke as he ripped open packaging and pulled on a sterile gown and gloves.
“Ambulance 724 is a minute out with a twenties-year-old, female overdose patient found near-dead. She’s awake and screaming after Narcan. Unknown history. The medics think she could be pregnant and something bad beyond the OD is happening.” Drake scanned the area making sure the airway equipment and other instruments he might need were at hand.
“Let’s roll the ultrasound over here in case I need to check for pregnancy. If she’s pregnant, let’s remember that good care of the mother is always what’s best for the ba—”
The doors exploded open as 724 rammed the gurney into the Crash Room. A wiry, young female paramedic pushed from the rear while her large male partner entered backpedaling while bent over the cart. His mass blocked the patient from view. As they reached the bedside, Drake saw beyond the big man.
My God!
An ultrasound exam to check for pregnancy would not be needed.
The blood-covered legs, buttocks, and abdomen of a tiny male infant protruded from the woman’s birth canal. The protruding parts and a short section of umbilical cord were supported in one of the paramedic’s gloved hands. The yet-to-be-born, clearly premature infant’s head, shoulders, upper chest, and arms were still within the mother’s body.
Tom Combs, Hard To Breathe
