Lauren lifted her mask to her face and was already reading the information displayed above the bed under the name Doe, Jane. She frowned and even though the mask was covering her mouth, the creases in her eyes and wrinkles spreading on her forehead told everyone in the room the situation had gone from serious to severe. “I need her blood typed and a transfusion yesterday. Do we know if she is human,” Lauren snapped reaching out to her left as the nurses ripped open the girl’s shirt to prepare for treatment. . Seconds later a port was placed in her hand. Lauren rapidly inserted it close to the girl’s heart. Transfusions were a tricky thing. While it saved lives, it could kill almost as instantly as they reason it was needed. Type O was considered a universal donor meaning anyone could receive it. Any human which at times was hard to tell. Lauren hoped that this girl was human and she wasn’t about to kill her faster than the neck wound. This was why most sick bays carried Hemolog.
Even though the neck wound was not closed yet, she had to get blood into the patient. A first-year medical student could recognize that the patient was going to hypovolemic shock by the physical symptoms of pale and clammy skin, rapid, shallow breathing, weak pulse, loss of consciousness, and blue-tinged lips and fingernails. “She is in hypovolemic shock meaning she had lost over twenty percent of her blood volume. Let’s start her on two 500-mL of Hemolog but we need her typed because this is not going to be enough. When she is typed I need her off the Hemolog and an intravenous line for a transfusion containing blood plasma, platelets, red blood cells, and intravenous crystalloids of whatever is pumping in her viens.” Lauren continued to talk as she moved towards the neck wound. The blood was no longer red and spurting out with the pulse. Instead, it had changed to a darker color and was thicker. The rush of blood from the injury was slowing almost as if it were no longer serious. This, however, was because the heart was no longer beating as fast or as strong to push it through the veins and arteries.
As Lauren picked up the clamp and surgical sutures, she looked at the nurse holding the wound closed. “Okay we need to be quick. When I say move move. Move,” Lauren said sharply. If the wound had been fresh, a spray of blood would have coated Lauren like a hose. Since it was over ten minutes old, the gushes just came out thick but slower. The suction line cleared the pools of accumulating blood allowing Lauren to see the nicked vein. Lauren let out the breath she had been holding seeing the injury was less than she anticipated. Clamping off the vein, she set about suturing the wound. “You saved her life the way you were holding it. Good work Marine,” Lauren said briefly. “Hold this,” she handed the woman the clamp. Lauren hated when she was dismissed mid-procedure. The Marine had done an amazing job and it only felt right to let her stay and assist.
Seeing the staff waiting for instructions Lauren again began to command the surgical team. “I need that blood tested for electrolyte imbalances in the kidneys and liver. Run an echocardiogram of the heart and then catheterize that and the bladder so we know the blood is getting to all her organs. I am going to need I mg of polyadrenaline and 20 mg of Vasokin.” The glance from one of the nurses at the use of the experimental medicine did not give Lauren pause. “It does us no good to seal her up if she goes into organ failure,” Lauren responded before any more questions were asked.
“Hang on honey. I am going to make you all better okay,”’ she said softly to the young girl on the table. Even though Jessa was unconscious, Lauren continued to talk to her as if she was wide awake. “You are going to be up and running and playing and eating pizza before you know it so don’t quit on me baby ‘cause I am not quitting on you,” she said gently as she worked on sealing up the wound.
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