Kaleidoscope of Blue

© 2004 by Connie J. Barretta. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the author.

ISBN:1-4140-0023-5 (e-book)

ISBN: 1-4140-0022-7 (Paperback)

1st Books - rev. 01/17/04

Acknowledgement

To America’s heartland where one can still hear the sound of rustling cornfields on an autumn night and the lone whistle of a train as it rolls along the rails.

To a generation of Baby Boomers who walked this path and live today in its shadow.

To my cousin, Bill, who loved and served his country, we miss you.

To all of the wonderfully dedicated people who guard and care for our families.

To those who believe in the strength of love.

To my parents, for their love and support.

To my brother, for always being there.

To my daughters, Angela and Danielle, may they one day write what is in their hearts.

To my husband, Steve, who often found himself in more than one character. You showed me the world!

I am truly blessed.

In the distance an alarming siren wailed as it raced through the intersection. Its intensity seemed to increase as the anxiety level rose within the ambulance. The driver cautiously turned the corner as the paramedics worked quickly in the back. What’s our ETA? Her pressure is dropping. She needs blood now! God, why do hospitals always seem a million miles away? He pulled the blankets up around his patient and elevated her legs. You’re going to be alright, he assured her. Just keep fighting. We’re right here. You’re not alone and we won’t let anything happen to you. He knew this was a promise that he might not be able to keep, however, he needed to maintain faith not just for himself, but for his patient. He gently brushed her hair away from her bandaged forehead where a large hematoma had formed around the gaping wound. He glanced at his co-worker as he hung another I.V. and opened it up to a rapid drip. There was no response as her wounded body lay limp upon the gurney. Her respirations were rapid and shallow. He touched her cool skin as he again tried to get a blood pressure. A feeling of helplessness overwhelmed him as he tried feverishly to care for his patient. Her car had been badly mangled and removing her from the vehicle had taken nearly an hour, perhaps an hour too long.

The paramedic laid on his horn as he passed a blue sedan. A large red and white van swerved to the left to avoid an accident. Why are people so difficult? All they have to do is pull over to the right just long enough for us to get through. Okay, we’re almost there. He removed the phone. Medics to base. We’re at Blake and Oak. Our ETA is approximately three minutes. Meet us at the door. Over…

We’re ready, bring her in.

Hang in there, baby. Everything is going to be all right. You are going to be just fine. As the darkness of night gave way to intense red flashes of light, the Emergency Entrance of the city hospital appeared as a beacon with its haze of white florescent shining over the concrete driveway. Like an angel spreading her wings in protection, it seemed to welcome them. Within seconds, the paramedics were retrieving their patient. Excuse me sir, please, out of the way, please, we need to get through, the paramedic pleaded as they bolted through the large glass double doors of a suburban San Diego hospital. We’ve got a white female Jane Doe, approximately thirty years old, probable internal bleed, unresponsive, with a palpated blood pressure of 60/40. She’s tachy at around 168. There’s been some trauma to the right temporal area. Neuro signs on exam in route were minimal. His demeanor clearly relayed the urgency of the situation to the nurse at the front desk.

It was nearing the end of the night shift at West General Hospital, however, the ER team had been informed that a trauma patient was being transported to them. They responded immediately and without hesitation as they wheeled the pale, cyanotic female into the observation room.

Dr. Rosen, we need you in here STAT! a nurse yelled down the corridor. Page the surgeon on call and get him down here! called the nurse.

I see they made it. So, what have we got? Dr. Rosen asked as he came through the door. His firm, calm mannerism always managed to keep them focused and efficient.

She’s a possible internal bleed with trauma to the right temporal area…car accident, they said. Neuro and vital signs are both unstable.

We need a stat CBC, Type and Cross. Have you notified the O.R.?

Yes, Doctor, they’re standing by.

Let’s get another line in her with Lactated Ringers. Use the antecubital and an 18 gauge. We’ll need it. Here, I’ll pump, just get it in. The nurse’s skilled hands were steady as she got a blood flow and attached the tubing. We’ve got to maintain the volume. Dr. Rosen continued, We don’t know how much blood she’s lost.

Doctor, her blood pressure is dropping. Her systolic is 40, but I can’t palpate anything more than that.

Try the other arm, he yelled. We’re losing her! Give me the Epi. Turn up the oxygen. Have the paddles ready. Someone call the O.R. We’re on our way. We’re helpless unless we can stop the bleeding. Check with the lab. We need that blood now!

Doctor, her blood pressure, the monitor… A shrill alarm went off on the nearby machine. It sent a piercing jolt throughout the room.

Stand back, he yelled, let’s do it! The doctor

grabbed the paddles and laid them on her listless body.

Turn up the power. 1…2…3…Clear. The room fell silent. Come on baby, you can do it. We’re all right here with you. Come on! Come on! The large fluorescent lights were warm upon their faces as they watched in anticipation. Adrenaline flowed like a surge of lightning through their veins. Their eyes remained glued to their patient.

Silence filled the room. The bold straight line on the monitor did not change. O.K., let’s shock her again. Turn it up.

We’re ready Doctor.

1…2…3…Clear…

Yes, Yes! the nurse shouted. We’ve got a rhythm. Thank you, God!

O.K. guys, she’s not out of the woods yet. Let’s get her up to the O.R., now! Dr. Rosen grabbed the end of the gurney and was on his way out the door before he had finished his sentence. His graying hair was moist with perspiration. His eyes were focused on his patient.

Back at the front desk, the nurse sat down and took a deep, relaxing breath as she tried to regain her composure. Her body was exhausted, but her mind wouldn’t stop. Resting her forehead on her hands, she turned to the clerk, You know, Sally, you never know what is going to come through those doors or when it will happen. I love the rush but I’m worn out after it is over. I must have been out of my mind to volunteer for a double shift tonight.

"I think you need to go take a break. Go on, it’s

quiet now. I’ll go tell Cindy."

She looked towards the elevator. I hope she’s alright, she didn’t look good. I wonder if her family or anyone knows about this.

See that officer over there on the phone, Gina? He was waiting to talk to someone, the clerk looked sympathetically at her friend. Oh, here he comes now.

Excuse me, nurse, can I ask you a few questions? He was barely in his twenties. You know, this never gets any easier, I guess. At least that’s what they all tell me. It was a pretty gruesome accident. I’m surprised no one else was hurt. Will she make it?

It’s hard to say, Sir, Gina answered. I’m sorry, I really can’t give you any information. Does she have any family?

I found a wallet at the scene. I need to call her husband. Where is she now?

On her way to surgery, Gina responded.

I’ll try to reach someone, the officer said as he headed back towards the phone.

It was nearly 8:00 P.M. when Bryan walked through the door of their pretentious, 4,000 square foot home in Coronado. It was April, and the breeze off the ocean left a chill in the air. It had been a ghastly day in court, and he was exhausted. His dark hair had begun to gray at the temples, and this made him look a little older than his thirty-six years. He had a presence about him, however, a look of distinction. Thank God, this case was finally going to the jury after weeks of endless testimony. He immediately walked over to the bar and poured himself a gin and tonic, his nightly ritual. This had become his way of putting the day behind him. The house seemed strangely quiet as he headed up the stairs to see if Amy had fallen asleep in her psychology book again. He turned on a small stained glass lamp as he entered the dark room. The room was empty. Maybe she had a study group, he thought out loud as he headed down the winding staircase. He made himself a pastrami on rye sandwich and took it into the den to watch T.V. He flipped aimlessly through the channels, but he was too tired for anything to hold his attention. Where could she be? His mind began to playback the events of the day and he eventually fell asleep in the dark leather recliner.

The grandfather clock in the entry hall chimed three times, and abruptly shook him from a sound sleep. Awakened by the noise, he struggled a moment to orient himself to time and place. His heart raced, his neck and shoulders felt stiff. He stretched as he ran his hand over the top of his head and through his hair.

Why didn’t Amy call me when she came in? he thought outloud as he turned off the television and ascended the stairs half asleep. Amy, I missed you. Why didn’t you wake me? he whispered softly as he entered the dark bedroom once again. Unable to see, he switched on the light as he sat down on the side of the bed. The emptiness of the room startled him as he looked down at the forest green bedspread still covering their sleigh bed. Amy? he called thinking she might be in the bathroom. The silence reverberated through the walls. Amy? he called again. No answer. He sat down, his hands held his head as he tried to collect his thoughts, then he got up and systematically checked each room of their two story house.

Again, he looked at the clock. It was 3:30 A.M. He tried to think. Had he forgotten something with all the tension at work? Who could he call? It was so late. He needed to check the garage, the car. God, what if she had been in an accident. His muscles tensed and his heart began to race within his chest. He would have heard something, anything, by now, surely. Nothing made any sense to him. As he turned the television back on, he realized it was too late for the news. An icy chill ran down his back. An aura of helplessness invaded his body. The house seemed strangely cold as he stared out of the window into the vast darkness of the night. A lone, yellow street light cast an ominous shadow upon the road. She had to be alright.

He collapsed in the chair by the phone. Slowly he dialed the numbers of the Emergency rooms and the highway patrol. The fear of finding her injured or hurt made each call more and more difficult. His hands trembled, his brow was moist with perspiration. No one had seen her. Amy, Amy, where are you. Please be safe.

6:00 A.M. and the sun was just coming up over the hill when the phone rang. It pierced the silence like a bolt of lightning in a warm evening rain. His face was colorless from lack of sleep, and his dark eyes looked tired with worry. May I speak to Bryan Marrino, please? asked the man on the other end of the phone. Bryan knew immediately that something was very wrong.