Dr Ashley Callahan kept the distance between herself and the bed, of which Viper pilot Lieutenant Ayesha Myers now lay over, having been transferred across from the paramedic gurney. As the designated ‘team leader’ of the resuscitation, she aimed to delegate tasks to the medics and nurses, while not becoming too physically involved herself, in order to maintain situational awareness.
Jamie had given sickbay a call several minutes prior to their arrival, and so the team in sickbay had enough time to be prepared. He and Matheson had turned up to the CASREC (casualty receiving) unit to find a resus bay at the ready. Nurses and other medics all gloved and gowned up, equipment standing by.
There was a nervous buzz in the air. Solaria’s first casualty from their first contact with the Cylons in over 40 years. Thankfully, no fatalities, and no damage to any of the ships in the fleet. Lt Myers had taken the brunt of the assault this time.
“Quiet for handover, please!” Callahan demanded.
Getting a nod from the doctor, Jamie commenced his spiel: “This is Lieutenant Ayesha Myers, 24. She’s suffered a fairly rough landing at the hangar deck with moderate damage to the front of her Viper. Brief extraction from the vehicle thanks to the fire crew. GCS was E1-V2-M5 initially, but starting to improve somewhat. Vitals stable en route. Airway and breathing intact. Top-to-toe, she’s concussed, has a potential fracture of the left maxilla, rib fractures clinically on the anterolateral aspect of her left chest wall, closed dinner-fork deformity of the distal forearm, and lots of swelling around her right ankle. EFAST negative, no exsanguinating hemorrhage identified. Scoop and ran here. She’s got an 18-gauge on the left AC, has had a 500-mil bolus, which settled her tachycardia.”
The large screen above the patient’s bed came to life. Colourful waves began dancing across it, with corresponding numbers flashing. The small team of nurses and medics began to crowd around their patient, each carrying out their assigned role.
“Specialist Perth!” Callahan boomed. “You’re on airway.” And then to the rest of the team, “I want her off the scoop and onto the bed. Heat blankets off, full exposure. Let’s get this primary survey going!”
Ayesha moaned softly as she was moved on the stretcher to the side of the bed. When they pulled her onto the bed, she made more than just a moan – she cried out in pain as her side and arm were jostled. Her eyes fluttered open slowly but… she couldn’t focus.
“Lieutenant Myers,” Jamie raised his voice. “You’re in sickbay. You’ve had a nasty crash on the hangar deck. Can you tell us where it hurts the most?”
Ayesha tried to focus. “My arm… missile hit the Viper’s tail… tried to eject… My chest hurts…” She was trying to make coherent sense, but her words were all jumbled. “Toasters… Frack.” She gasped as her arm was nudged. The pain was swamping her. “Hurts bad…. anyone… hurt?”
“No, sir. Just you,” Jamie told her. “But you’re fine. There’s a lot going on around you at the moment, but all you gotta do is stay still and let us do our work. We’ll get you some pain relief very soon.”
“That… that would be good,” she said before closing her eyes briefly.
Dr Callahan’s mind raced, knowing she had to be at least one step ahead of what her team was doing. The patient appeared quite stable, but considering the likely significant force of the Viper’s impact, simple X-ray films weren’t going to cut it, at least not in detecting subtle yet potentially serious injuries to the chest, abdomen and pelvis. She’ll need to be taken to the CT scanner soon.
“Where’s my first set of vitals?!”
“Systolic’s 110, heart rate’s 96. SPO2 94% on two litres. Resps are 16.”
“Give her 25 mikes of fentanyl and then we’ll log-roll her,” she commanded. “Towards her right, so that we don’t put any pressure on her left arm, which needs to be splinted.” The team obeyed, getting in position before rolling Ayesha to her side to expose her back. One of the medics began pushing down her spine to check for any pain, as well as performing a visual inspection of any obvious back injuries. There appeared to be none.
“All right, let’s get her prepped and ready to head to CT! I want head, chest, abdo-pelvis.” Dr Callahan finally walked up to the bedside, looking down at her patient for the first time. “I’m Lieutenant Callahan. Rough day so far, Lieutenant?”
Ayesha tried a weak smile at the sally. “Yeah.. guess so.” It had been going so well as well. Frackin’ Toasters…”Think you can fix… me, doc?”
“Don’t you worry. We’ll sort you out. We’ve found nothing serious so far. Your broken arm will heal in time. The ugly ankle sprain you’ve got will settle down as well. The broken rib – or two – will be pretty sore in the short term, but that’ll heal as well. We just need to stick you through the CT scanner to make sure you don’t have any internal bleeding.”
“Okay,” Ayesha got out. “C-can I close my eyes now?”
“You may if you want to,” Jamie said. “But we’ll be poking you every now and again to make sure you’re still with us. Deal?”
“Deal… My head hurts…” she let her eyes drift close.
As the team prepared to bring her out of the resus bay to the CT room, Callahan spotted the CMO from the corner of her eye. He had presumably come to assess the situation, having likely been more involved in the background work of mobilising personnel through the department, in response to the medical alert relayed from the hangar deck earlier.
“Captain,” she nodded in attention. “Been lucky, sir. Only one casualty.”
“Fantastic,” Nathan cheered as he made his final approach. Although cheering might have been a stretch, the smile on his face was barely existent. “I presume, given your direction, that you’re taking her for a CT Scan. I’ve been unable to locate a radiologist, or anyone related to the neurology department, so it looks like you’ll be needing me,” he informed, picking the file that had been hastily cobbled together by one of the medical assistants. Without a network, medical records were sparse. He was forced to have one created for each person as, and when, they were being treated or had the chance to meet with him.
“Echo, is it?” He’d been a part of the fleet long enough to know the pilots carried their call signs with pride, “Have you ever had a CT scan before?”
The pilot opened her eyes. “No…” she said softly “Can’t be worse than crashing a Viper.”
Callahan let out a light chuckle. “Most certainly nowhere close to crashing a Viper,” she reassured. “The only concern is claustrophobia, as you’ll in a rather tight space while going through the scanner. But if you can deal with being in a Viper cockpit, this will be nothing. The scan itself will only take a few minutes at most.”
Ayesha nodded. “Okay. Thanks, doc.”
“Clinically a rib fracture without any obvious thoracic complications, and a pretty nasty forearm fracture that will need some manual manipulation and a cast. She took a bad concussion too, but she seems mostly neurologically intact. I’ll get you to look over her head CT once it’s done, if you don’t mind, sir?”
“Of course, Captain,” Nathan agreed. “Got a couple of other patients to attend to first, but I’ll review the scans as soon as they are done, just give me a shout,” he explained, gesturing to the beds full of patients against the back wall of the bay.
“Sounds good, sir. Thank you for dropping by.”
Before leaving, he placed a hand on Echo’s shoulder. “We’ll have you fighting fit in no time, Lieutenant,” he promised, before making his way back to the other patients.
She gave what she hoped was a smile but it was tinged with pain. “Thanks.”
Nathan nodded to Echo before turning to Callahan. “Not of my patients are high risk, so feel free to pull me for this ASAP,” he ordered before making his way back over the other side of the sickbay.
She nodded in return. “Will do, sir. Thank you.” And she continued with the rest of the small entourage towards the CT scanner room.