Chapter 1 — The Ambulance
Chapter 1 — The Ambulance
The wail of the ambulance grew louder until blue and red lights flooded the windows.
Nobody spoke.
The front door burst open as two paramedics hurried inside carrying medical bags.
"What happened?"
Mr. Harrison answered before anyone else could.
"Emergency C-section three days ago. High fever. Heavy wound drainage. Possible sepsis."
The senior paramedic knelt beside me and carefully lifted the edge of my sweatshirt.
His face changed immediately.
"Blood pressure now."
A cuff tightened around my arm.
Another paramedic checked my pulse.
"Heart rate one-forty."
"Temperature?"
"One hundred four point three."
The older medic looked directly at Mark.
"Why wasn't she already in the emergency room?"
Mark swallowed.
"She... she said she was okay."
"No," I whispered.
Everyone heard me.
"I asked for help."
Silence filled the room.
The medic didn't hide his frustration.
"She's showing classic signs of a serious postoperative infection."
He looked toward Mr. Harrison.
"Another few hours could have killed her."
The words seemed to suck the air from the room.
Linda finally set down her wineglass.
"Surely that's an exaggeration."
The paramedic stood.
"Ma'am, sepsis isn't a disagreement. It's a medical emergency."
Within seconds they cut away my blood-soaked dressing.
One guest covered her mouth.
Another quietly turned away.
The incision was swollen, red, and leaking infected fluid.
The medic spoke into his radio.
"Female, twenty-nine. Post-op day three. Suspected septic shock. ETA twelve minutes."
As they loaded me onto the stretcher, I looked toward the kitchen.
The banquet still sat untouched.
May you like
Ten beautiful dishes.
Not one of them mattered anymore.
