PHANTOM OF A CHANCE (Part 3/?)
By Missy
(missy@lexicon.net)

DISCLAIMER:
See Part 1
 
WARNING:
This story does get rather gory and explicit in terms of
injuries sustained.  If you are under 15 years or have a weak
stomach for details, I would think twice before reading.  But
then again, if you watch ER, you can't be too bad <g>

Many thanks must go to my editors Susan Drake and Carolyn
Delaney for their tireless and marvellous editing and for
providing me with wonderful suggestions for the story. Also
to Phyl for some of the Chicago details, which I probably
still got wrong anyway <g>

PART 3/?            

Through the patterned glass of the supply room, Doug caught
sight of the person he had been looking for.  Carol, clipboard
and pen in hand, was rhythmically counting medical supplies
before entering the amount neatly into the columns of the
supply order sheet. 

It was a task that she could almost do with her eyes closed,
however, she didn't allow the meniality of the job to give rise
to any carelessness.  The ER relied on the constant
availability of the medical supplies to enable the staff to
make the difference between the life and death of its patients.

Doug quietly entered the room and slipped his arms around
her waist.  Carol immediately recognised the smell of his
aftershave.

"Hey Doug" she said absently, automatically leaning back
into his arms.  She jolted upright again when she realised that
at the moment the ER was the last place that those familiar
brawny arms should be.   "What are you doing here?"  she
said as she swung to face him.

"I've been discharged" he answered simply.

"At......" Carol consulted her watch.  "6.15 in the morning?"

"I've got contacts." Doug winked at her and gave a sly grin.

"No. You just made yourself such a nuisance that they threw
you out."

"How'd you guess."

"You forget; you're my husband."

"Now how could I forget that?"  He whispered seductively
into her ear as he gathered her back in his arms.   They both
enjoyed the quiet intimacy they had been unable to share over
the last two weeks that he'd been in hospital.

"Carol, I've got Mr. Haroutunian in three........" Chuny's
voice trailed off as she caught sight of the couple.  "Oh, hey
Doug.  You been given your marching orders?"

Doug coughed subtlety, looking down at his feet, ignoring
the dancing humour in Chuny's eyes.  
"While I'd love to leave you along to get reacquainted, Carol,
Mr. Haroutunian needs you in Exam 3.   Just remember that
you'll have plenty of time together now." Chuny bounced out
of the room,  smothered laughter left in her wake.

"Doug, I'm off duty in another forty-five minutes.  I'll drive
you home at the end of my shift.  Go to the lounge and stay
there."  Carol's last few words were instructions, not a
request.

"I love it when you take control." Doug nuzzled her neck.

"Remind you of Weaver, do I?"

"You and Weaver alike?  Don't torture a man.  I've just been
released today!  It's almost enough for a relapse."

"Maybe, I'll just have to make you better,"  Carol kissed him
firmly on the lips.

"Now that's an idea." Doug muttered as they deepened the
kiss.

Several sharp beeps interrupted them.   Carol looked down at
her pager.  "Thanks a lot, Chuny."

"She gives Jerry a challenge for subtlety."  Doug commented
as they both left the supply room.  Doug's gait had altered
slightly in deference to the abdominal surgery that had
removed his spleen following his gun shot wound two weeks
earlier.    A bacterial infection had seen him stay for several
days more.

Mark was just leaving Exam 5 as they walked past.  "Doug,
what're you doing in the ER?"

"Why is everyone worried about what I'm doing in the ER? 
Have you all forgotten that I'm the paediatric attending?" 
There was a grin to Doug's face as he said this.  

"No.  But you aren't medically cleared to be in the ER. 
Actually, the last I heard, you hadn't even been released."

"I'm a free man now, buddy.  I got my marching orders this
morning."

"Don't take this the wrong way but I don't want you in my
ER.  Doug, I want you fully recovered before you return. 
You know how major surgery affects a person and I would
count a  splenectomy in that category."

"It's okay Mark.  He's going to wait in the lounge until I
finish my shift."    Carol cut Mark off before he was able to
continue and gave Doug a playful pat on his backside

"Glad to hear it."

"I'm going to enjoy my next week or two at home watching
the sports channel." Doug languished in the thought.  While
he was eager to get out of hospital, the shooting had quelled
his desire to return to work as yet.  

Arriving at the waiting area, the three of them divided with
Mark heading for the central work station while Doug and
Carol went to the doctor's lounge.

"Has Dr. Weaver arrived yet?" Mark asked Randi tiredly as
he dropped a chart off at the desk.  Since the shooting two
weeks ago, they had been short staffed with the loss of two
attendings, a desk clerk and a nurse.    While it was always
difficult when one staff member was  ill or on holidays, it
had been a living hell losing all four at once, especially Doug
and Kerry. 

While they had been provided with support staff from the
ICU and nursing agency, it was very different from having
staff who knew each others patterns of practice and
idiosyncracies.

Mark truly appreciated Doug's patience with the children
who came in  but mostly, his patience with the parents.  He
now understood why he occasionally ripped through the
parents who had neglected their child's illness and risked
their lives.  

Mark was looking forward to Kerry's return today.  He had
re-evaluated her abilities to juggle the paperwork with
consulting which he had always taken for granted because
she always did it.  Her absence over the last two weeks had
been heartfelt by all in the ER.

Now he was at the end of his double shift, looking forward
to a good  sleep and Kerry wasn't here.  She had spoken with
him last night and told him she'd be in well before her shift
so that they could go over the paperwork and patient cases.

"Nope."  Randi answered as she chewed on the end of a
pencil, correcting the paperwork in front of her.

Rubbing his eye with a single finger under his glasses, Mark
yawned as the toll of the double shift began to sink in.
Thankfully,  most of the patients had been discharged or were
being transferred to the floors.  

"Kerry's not in yet?"  Jeanie asked from the other side of the
admit desk as she overheard his question, her face conveying
her concern.   Kerry being late to work was something you
could count on one hand.  "Do you want me to give her a
call?" 

Before Mark had a chance to answer her, Carol interrupted
them having taken the dispatch call.  "Mark, we've got
multiple MVAs coming in.  There was a pile up between a
tanker and several cars at the intersection of S. Western &
Archer Avenues.  They are sending all the victims here." 

"Why are they all coming here?"

As soon as Carol had mentioned the collision, Randi had
picked up the remote control for the television.  She turned
up the sound for WMCQ news channel which had been
playing silently, ignored by most of the staff and patients.

"Mercy is closed to trauma.  Apparently a water main blew
and flooded the ground floor including the ER."

"Alright.  So how many injured?"  

"They're not sure.  Approximately twenty to thirty.  They've
only been able to extricate seven at this stage.  ETA for the
first victims is five minutes."

"Dr. Greene, I've located Dr. Weaver."  Randi interrupted
them.

Turning and expecting Kerry to be there, he was surprised to
only find Randi, still sitting on the desk with her eyes firmly
fixed on the television in the corner of the waiting area.  At
his look of annoyance, she pointed at the screen.   Carol,
Mark and Jeanie stepped closer with several nurses close
behind to get a better look at the news report.

"Oh my G......"  Carol whispered, covering her mouth in
shock, sure from Randi's response that Kerry had been one
of the drivers caught in the collision.   Jeanie's eyes opened
wide in shock at the scene, unable to verbalise her fears.

Mark was more cautious, scanning the debris for any sign of
Kerry or her car and found none.  Although, with the damage
done to the cars, he doubted he would recognise Kerry's car
anyway.

"Randi, where did you see Dr. Weaver?"  Mark was unsure
about her sighting of the elusive attending.

"She was crawling into that van underneath the truck."

"What!  You're sure it was Kerry?"   Mark looked in
disbelief at the remnant of the vehicle  crushed beneath the
tanker. 

"Yep.  She tossed her crutch off before she crawled in.  It
was a typical Weaver action."

They all looked more closely at the screen and they could see
the crutch discarded on the ground.

As the camera panned across the entire scene once again,
Mark realised that they were going to be inundated shortly
with the victims and from the look of the damage, the
injuries were going to be extensive.

"Get the trauma rooms ready.  Set up rapid infusers with
warmed saline.   Call the OR and tell them we have a mass
casualty alert.  Page Carter, Anna and Ashlea,."  Mark
instructed moving across to the admit board, grateful that
they had cleared most of the patients.  "Have Sam and
Maggie arrived yet?"

"Yeah.  About fifteen minutes ago.   They're in the lounge."

"Amara, set up a triage.   Randi, call for surgical consults and
get Dr. Goldberg out of his bed and down here.   Don't let
him give you any of his crap about being Chief.  I'm going to
need him!  Jeanie, stay with me."  Mark turned on his heel
towards the lounge.   Pushing open the door, he found Sam
seated at the table, studying two large medical texts.  Maggie
sat in the corner of the couch, one leg tucked up under her as
she read the current AMA journal, highlighter in hand.  Doug
was making himself a cup of coffee.  

"We need you out here.  We've got multi MVAs coming in. 
Not you, Doug.  You're not quite ready for this type of action
yet."  Mark didn't need to say anything more as he dropped
the yellow protective gowns in their laps.  Both shut their
books and followed him out of the room just as the first of
the ambulances pulled up outside.   All missed, the small
flutter of relief which flickered across Doug's face.

The ER was now in charged motion, trauma and exam rooms
being readied for the influx of victims.  Because of the
carnage they had seen on television, the staff rapidly prepared
for the influx of numerous and massive injuries.  Calls were
being placed for surgical consults and OR's to be ready.

Mark, Jeanie, Sam and Maggie quickly pulled on gloves and
the yellow protective gowns as they headed outside to meet
the first of the victims.  They were joined within moments by
Carter, Anna and Ashlea also using blood precautions.  Three
ambulances pulled up in rapid succession.

"Six month old girl, Stephanie Logan.  Good breath sounds
bilaterally.  BP's 110 over 70, pulse 120 and Resps 30,"  Lars
reported as he pulled her out of the ambulance.  Stephanie
was still in her infant seat strapped atop the gurney.

"Good set of lungs on her, too."  Anna commented as she
took control of the gurney, Jeanie grabbing hold of the other
side as they pushed her through the open ambulance bay
doors.

"Take her through to Exam One," Mark directed.  The next
gurney contained a fair-haired boy, his face ghostly white
against the grey blanket covering his body.   Blood ran in
large rivulets down his pale face from the large gash on his
head.  Thick bandages swathed his right arm which rested on
top of the blanket.  Trails of IV tubing ran into his left arm
firmly affixed by tape.  

"Jarrod Logan.  Four years old.  Head and internal injuries.
Severe lacerations to his right arm.  BP's 70 over 40.   He's
lost approximately two litres of blood.  GCS is 6.  His pulse
is weak and thready.  We've given him two units of saline in
the field and another two on the rapid infuser."

"Carter, Sam, take him straight through to Trauma One. 
Page Benton.  Call vascular, make sure the OR's on standby. 
 Maggie, we'll take this one to Trauma Two."

"Six year old girl.  Katie Logan.   Crush injuries to the legs
and possible neck and abdominal injuries.  BP's 100 over 70,
Pulse is 80.  She's A & O times four."

The little girl's eyes watched fearfully as the sea of faces
peered down at her.   

"Hi Katie.  We're just going to have a look at you and make
you feel better."  Mark spoke gently, hoping to calm her
obvious fear as he quickly assessed her.

                - 0 0 0 -
                         
Elizabeth heard the groan of metal and watched in horror as
the tanker slowly collapsed down on the trapped cars beneath
it.   Relief flooded through her as the descent was halted by
heavy metal cables.  The fire department had been hard at
work and connected the cabling to protect the cars beneath
the tanker.   While it had been their cabling work which had
set the tanker sinking further onto the cars, it had also
protected the victims inside from being crushed.

She finished intubating the eight year old boy through the
front windshield of the Futura, Pam bagged the boy and after
checking the tube was placed correctly, Elizabeth scrambled
off the hood and ran towards the van, anxious about Kerry. 
 She was joined by Captain Donnegan and one of his
firemen.

Elizabeth gingerly made her way through the swirling fluid
to the window edge of the van.

"Be careful!" Captain Donnegan called out.

She directed a sharp look in him.  

"Kerry?" She paused a moment before calling again. 
"Kerry?  Are you alright?"

"Yeah.  We're both fine.  But you'd better get us out of here. 
 The girl needs urgent treatment and I don't feel like doing an
imitation of a pancake."   

A small smile flittered across Elizabeth's face and she shook
her head.  "Do you need anything?"

"Yeah.   Another two litres of saline, backboard and c-
collar." 

"I'll see what I can do."

Moving away from the van, Elizabeth was stopped from
heading off to the ambulances by Captain Donnegan's firmly
clasped hand on her shoulder.    He cut her off before she was
able to say a word.

"Jack, get the paramedics to bring down a backboard and c-
collar."  Captain Donnegan spoke to his second in command
via two-way radio.  Aside to Elizabeth, he asked "What else
did she ask for?"

"Two units of saline." 

"And two units of saline."  Captain Donnegan added. 
Walking away slightly from the Suburban and Elizabeth, he
assessed the balance of the tanker on the van.  "Jack, we're
going to also need the jaws.  We'll never get them out
through the window again."

"How long is it going to take to get them out?"  Elizabeth
asked huskily, her voice affected by the inhalation of the
chemical fumes.

The young fireman accompanying Captain Donnegan looked
down and scuffed his boots.  However, Captain Donnegan
wasn't bothered by her question.

"Probably a good hour."

"An hour!  But she mightn't have that much......."

"That chemical you keep standing in is petroleum."  Captain
Donnegan's voice overrode Elizabeth's.    "We use one of
our electrical tools and we all go up."  

He did not need to elaborate.   Elizabeth understood the
implications.   

"Dr. Corday!   The paramedics are asking for you.   There's
a problem with the kid."  Jack Dawson called out as he ran
towards them with another fireman, the backboard jogging
up and down in rhythm.   They also had the c-collar and
saline.

Elizabeth didn't ask a question but ran back towards the
Futura.    She berated herself for giving into her emotions to
find out how Kerry was.  Running through her examination
of the boy in her mind, she could think of a dozen reasons
why she'd been called back.   Arriving on the scene, she
found the paramedics with the eight year old's twin brother,
from the rear seat, on a gurney beside the car.   They had him
strapped to a back board, his neck securely wrapped in a c-
collar with straps holding him in place across his legs, chest
and forehead.

"What happened?"

"We don't know.   We'd just got his brother stabilised when
he started seizing."

"How long were the seizures?"  As she asked, she listened to
his breath sounds.

"One minute."

"What did you give for the seizure?"

"I started an IV of D5 and saline." 

Elizabeth nodded in response.  "He seems stable at the
moment.  Let's get him to the hospital."

No sooner were the words out of her mouth and the boy
began seizing once again.  They rolled the boy and backboard
to the side.  

"You haven't got any ativan in your box?" Elizabeth asked. 


Pam shook her head.  It was not a drug carried by
paramedics.

"Okay." Elizabeth ran her hand across her wet hair.  "Give
him 10cc's of D50 IV push."

Elizabeth was once again disheartened by the damage one
accident had caused and angry with herself that she had not
kept re-assessing the young boy.  She was concerned she
might have missed important changes in his condition,
indicating a much more severe trauma than noted on first
examination.

End Part 3/?