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Dr. Jonah Ferris looked around the Emergency Room wearily. He’d been working here for over forty years, and in just twelve hours, it would be over. Hospital policy. Darn, he hated that word.

“Last day, huh?” Martha Stenner smiled when she popped up next to him. He smiled back. Although she had been married for almost a year now, she still continued to flirt with him every day. She was also half his age.

“This might sound corny, but I’m really gonna miss it here,” Jonah sighed.

“You know, only doctors can say they’re gonna miss a place such as a hospital.”

“Head nurses can’t?”

“No, that sounds too corny,” she winked and he scoffed, rolling his eyes. He was already sure he would spend the rest of the day in a melodramatic kind of state, and it wasn’t even seven a.m. yet.

Oh well, not like there was much to do around here for someone who’d already had wrapped up most of his cases before retirement.

“How about one last trauma case though?” Martha smirked.

“Trauma? Are you serious?” Jonah asked, failing to keep the excitement out of his voice.

“Yeah. Don’t look like that, I was just as surprised as you, but I’m starting to think Henry personally flew it over here just for you.”

Jonah nodded, that did sound like something the paramedic would do. “Mercy’s got a bigger trauma department, though.”

“Too bad, we’re specialized in trauma too, you know.”

“Often doesn’t seem like it.”

Martha shrugged. They both knew it was true. North Mercy Hospital was considerably new and updated when it came to trauma cases, leaving the smaller hospitals in the city to pick up the bloody fingers and snotty noses. It had been that way for over two years. The trauma cases only came their way when Mercy was full, which almost never happened.

“Might have something to do with the fact that the guy’s pretty high profile too. You know, that way it will take the press and stuff a while to figure out where he’s located, cause they’ll all be running to Mercy first,” she explained as she handed him the chart.

Jonah scanned through it quickly, raising his eyebrows as he whistled softly, “Six hours?”


“When will they get here?” he asked, a little bit of the old excitement that came with severe trauma cases returning.

“Any moment, they had some delay, but I guess we really should get up on the roof.” Martha turned and walked through the doors. Jonah followed her after a second.

For some reason he couldn’t explain, he felt like a young ER doctor again. Hypothermia cases weren’t rare in winter, but six hours… that could proof interesting.

Up on the roof, it was cold. The wind blew every which way when the helicopter was trying to land. Jonah ducked and ran, like he had done a thousand times before, but this time, he knew would be his last.

Henry Dulas was the first to climb out, quickly rattling off the report, “Forty year old male, severe hypothermia. Was trapped under the wreckage of a bus crash for over six hours.” He grabbed the stretcher, skillfully taking it out of the helicopter.

“Temperature is at 78, heart rate’s 31, pulse is weak and unsteady. BP is fifty over forty.”

“Get him inside.”

Henry nodded and waved at the other two paramedics to start moving, “He coded once on the way over here. We had to intubate him after that.”

“Did you shock him?”


“How many times?”

“Three, Jonah, I’m not an idiot. I know the procedure. We were lucky he came back,” Henry answered as he ran alongside the gurney. “They tell you about the emergency amputation?”

“Yeah, Henry, it’s on the chart,” Jonah sighed as they got into the elevator.

“Damn, they make those charts quick these days. That’s fantastic.”

“Oh yeah.”

“Gotta tell you, it’s been a while since I had to do one. And in a farm field? Man, you don’t see that anymore these days.”

“You’re getting old Henry,” Jonah smiled as the elevator arrived on the ground floor, they hurried out, rushing through the hallways. The new lady at the front desk, whose name Jonah couldn’t seem to remember, pointed to the first trauma room.

“Last time I checked, Jo, you’re the one getting retired.”

Jonah ignored his comment, instead clearing his throat as he raised his voice, “Alright people, on three.” He counted as they transported the in blankets wrapped man from the stretcher to the table. “Let’s see what we got here.”

Although they hadn’t had a real trauma patient in quite a while, everyone in the room seemed to know exactly what they were doing. Jonah appreciated that, more than anything, about the hospital. There were no clueless interns wandering around with wide eyes, no burnt out nurses, everyone was right where they should be, always.

“Damn, he’s blue,” Maria McNally stated as she walked in and Jonah rolled his eyes.

“Great observation, doctor,” he said dryly before turning around, “Martha? I need some heated IVs right away. We gotta get this guy warmed up, it’s our first priority.”

Martha nodded as she put two bags in the microwave, “Just thirty seconds.”

“Pupils are dilated,” McNally stated as she shone a penlight into the man’s eyes.

Jonah nodded, looking sternly around the table as the others worked, “We have to keep his heart beating, Mr. Dulas over here already shocked him to the max, and we can’t do it again, that’s policy with hypothermia cases.”

A few heads looked up, annoyed. They didn’t have to be told about policy, Jonah knew that, but it was also policy that he told them about policy.

He hated policy with a passion sometimes.

“I’ll call ortho about that leg,” McNally opted and whirled around.

“He’ll be lucky if he gets to keep his other leg,” Henry muttered with a grim expression. “His friends almost didn’t let me go through with it.”

“That’s people,” Jonah answered absently, “You did pretty well, though. Looks neat for a… you know, field amputation.” He commented as he examined the wound.

Usually, when amputations needed to be done quickly on the scene, it looked nasty, like someone had just ripped the limb off. Instead, this looked fairly clean, in comparison to things Jonah had seen in the past.

Henry nodded, a hint of pride in his smile, “Yeah. The cold worked too though. Guess there’s something good about it.”

Jonah scoffed, “Lose any blood?”

“Not more than a unit.”

“Impressive,” he mumbled, looking up, “What’s his temperature?”

“Stuck at 80,” Martha said with a glint of worry in her eyes, “He’s not warming up fast enough and his oxygen levels are dropping fast.”

“Damnit,” Jonah muttered, “That’s little more than room temperature.”

“He’s crashing!”

He let out a frustrated sigh. This was his last trauma case, it would really be a bummer if it went this way.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” he questioned, “Start CPR.”

The activity in the room heightened, urgent commands flew across the table, as it was lowered and McNally started compressions. “He’s got a history of heart problems,” Martha informed.

“At forty?” McNally questioned.

“He’s 39,” Martha interjected, which caused most eyes in the room to stare at her for a second. “What? It was only a VSD.”

“I’m not gonna ask how you know that,” Jonah stated, “Can I get one shot of bretylium here please? Hurry up!”

“Did you actually read the chart?” Martha asked as she handed him the injection.

“Yeah, it said he was forty, which apparently, is wrong,” Jonah muttered as he plunged the needle into his patient’s skin. “Be careful with those burns, Maria!” he instructed the other doctor as she continued to press her hands into the man’s chest. Looking up at the monitors, he cursed inwardly, “Any change?”

“No sir,” a younger nurse replied as she another heated IV to the pole.

“It’s a Backstreet Boy,” Martha muttered meanwhile, “that’s how I know.”

“What? You’re a fan of those kids?” Jonah asked as he took another amp of bretylium.

“No! No, of course not!” Martha countered, “I was… way back... It’s just. It was my generation, you know? It’s a phase, I guess. You either get infected by it, or you don’t.”

“Yet you know this kid’s exact age.” Jonah shrugged.

“I would hardly call those guys ‘kids’ anymore, at their forties.”

“My kid is forty,” Jonah stated dryly. “How long have we been at it?”

“Seven minutes, doctor,” McNally answered, her furious actions on the singers chest not lessening for a second. “He’s still in v-fib. We’re losing him.”

“No we’re not!” Jonah replied sternly, “I need another amp.”

“Ferris…” McNally warned.

Jonah didn’t listen as he administered the third dose.

He turned his tense expression to the monitors, frowning when he didn’t see a change. “Damnit, get the crash cart.”

“W-we can’t, it’s…”

“We might be able to save this kid!”

“That’s highly debatable, Ferris!” McNally countered, “And I do not want the board on my ass, just cause you don’t want to have a disappointing final case!”

“I’m responsible, Maria. It’s my ass. Martha, get the crash cart.”

Martha hesitatingly looked from one doctor to the other, and then grunted in frustration, “Why do I always get caught in the middle of you two?” she muttered when she left the room.

“Damnit Jonah, you never knew how to follow policy, did you?” McNally growled. “Oh well, why should you care, right? You’ll be gone by tomorrow. It’s not like they can fire you.”

Jonah narrowed his eyes, but didn’t take the bait. Instead he took the paddles from Martha. “Charge to 200... Clear!” he ordered, ignoring McNally’s heated stare. Without a further thought, he pressed the electrodes to the singer’s chest, sending his body into the air.
Chapter End Notes:
I'm mean like that

also, doctor Ferris to the possible rescue!