After spending nearly a half hour with Juliette watching Ask the StoryBots and getting her to eat the rest of her grilled cheese sandwich, Brian was glad she seemed back to near normal. When she and Camila began coloring together, Brian had checked on Emma’s situation before retreating to the home office. His plan was to try to get an idea of what they would be able to cover with their current depleted cash reserves if they were forced to endure the entire fall season with few or no security gigs, which was how it was beginning to appear. The reality was that by the New Year, they were going to be in bad shape even with Camila gracious enough to be willing to defer receiving her salary. The thought of losing her, especially under the current circumstances with Emma and Juliette, was painful.
While deep in his depressing thoughts, a sudden nerve-shattering, shrill scream reverberated around the room, sending a shot of adrenaline through Brian’s body and propelling him out of his desk chair and into the hallway. Instantly he could tell the continued shouts were coming from above, although already there was an answering softer wail from the kitchen. Brian hit the stairs at a run and within a blink of an eye he’d reached the guest room. Inside he found both Aimée and Hannah frozen like statues with their hands clasped over their mouths and eyes thrown open to their limits.
Within the hospital bed Emma was in the throes of yet another full-blown seizure, with her back arched grotesquely and her arms and legs thrashing. Most disturbing of all, her head was repeatedly hitting against the bed’s protective metal rails and making a horrific clamor. Without a second’s hesitation Brian rushed to the bedside and pulled his convulsing wife more into the center of the bed to prevent any head trauma. With Brian’s arrival, the mothers’ screams trailed off.
“Thank God you came,” Aimée wailed. She stepped closer to the bed. Hannah stayed away, her hand still clasped over her mouth.
“What happened?” Brian managed as he forcibly kept Emma away from the bedsides and struggled to roll her on her side, so she didn’t choke. As muscular and athletic as Emma was, it took all of Brian’s considerable strength.
“I don’t know! Nothing particular. She’d had her bath, and we’d managed to get her back into the bed, which wasn’t easy. It did make her really upset. Could that have caused this?”
“I can’t imagine,” Brian said, struggling to keep Emma centered in the bed and on her side. He noticed she was turning slightly blue from her breathing being suppressed.
“Should I find something to put in her mouth so she doesn’t bite her tongue?”
“No, it’s not necessary,” Brian said. “That’s an old wives’ tale. It’s enough to keep her on her side and keep her from injuring herself.”
“Should one of us call an ambulance?” Hannah asked frantically. She’d recovered to a degree but still hadn’t moved from where she had backed up.
Brian didn’t answer immediately because he didn’t know what to do and keeping Emma centered was taking all his attention. He assumed the seizure would stop just as it did when she’d had a similar fit in the car on the way back from the Cape. But as the minutes ticked by, Brian got progressively frantic, especially since she was only getting bluer in the face.
“Hannah!” Brian yelled over his shoulder. “Go ahead and call an ambulance!”
Glad to have something to do, Hannah struggled to get her phone out of her pocket. She hit emergency and dialed 911, then put her phone to her ear.
“Tell the operator it could be a status epilepticus!” Brian shouted. “Tell them that an ALS ambulance is needed.”
“What’s an ALS ambulance?”
“Advanced life support!” Brian shouted back.
Since Emma’s convulsions were still making considerable noise in the hospital bed, Hannah stepped out into the hallway. A moment later, with the phone still pressed against the side of her head, she returned and called out to Brian: “How long has the seizure been going on?”
“I don’t know,” Brian cried. “Say five minutes.”
Hannah left again but was back quickly to stand next to Aimée. “Okay, an ALS ambulance is on its way.”
Brian didn’t answer. His concerns were quickly mounting as his wife was even more blue than she’d been just a few moments earlier. “Hurry, please!” he said under his breath.
“C’est très inquiétant!” Aimée said, catching Brian’s words despite the noise Emma was making.
“Of course it’s worrisome!” Brian responded irritably at what he thought was a foolish thing to say.
Suddenly a pitiful scream crying “Mommy!” penetrated the clatter Emma was making in the bed. All eyes turned to the doorway to see Juliette’s form silhouetted against the backlight.
Aimée was the first to react, and she rushed to the doorway and guided Juliette away with soothing words. A moment later Camila appeared, taking in the commotion. “I’m so sorry,” she blurted out. “I turned my back just for a second, and Juliette was out of the kitchen.”
Brian didn’t answer. As the seconds ticked by and Emma’s lividity deepened, he was getting more and more concerned, since Emma’s seizure was now at least twice as long as her first. “Someone should go down to the front door and let in the ambulance medics!” he shouted to no one in particular.
“I’ll go,” Camila said quickly, glad to do something to appease her guilt. She disappeared before anyone could respond.
“Will the medics be able to stop the seizure?” Hannah asked nervously. Though clearly still distraught, she’d recovered enough to come around the bed and was standing across from Brian.
“Who the hell knows!” Brian snapped insensitively. He was becoming so concerned himself that he wasn’t thinking properly.
After what seemed like hours but had been only ten to fifteen minutes, undulating sirens could be heard. It was music to Brian’s ears. From the sounds he could tell there was more than one vehicle, which surprised him. Quickly the sirens reached a crescendo, and then trailed off and stopped, indicating the vehicles were outside. A few minutes later four medics, one woman and three men, rushed into the guest room carrying a wide variety of equipment, including a stair chair used to get patients up and down flights of stairs. All of them were outfitted in full protective gear due to the pandemic.
The woman, clearly in charge and taking command, crowded Brian to the side. The noise from Emma’s thrashing became louder. “I’m Alice, a paramedic, and this is George, my partner,” she said quickly, motioning to the man who had gone to the other side of the bed. He was carrying an instrument case. “How long has the patient been convulsing?”
“I’m not sure,” Brian admitted, but he knew it was important to give an answer. “Probably more than twenty minutes.” Brian, along with Hannah, backed up into the doorway leading out into the hall.
“Okay!” Alice said, looking at George. “Break out the Arrow Intraosseous drill.”
“What do you want for the injection?” George yelled as he opened the case and took out what looked like a normal carpenter’s drill.
“Versed, five milligrams,” Alice said. Then, looking at the two other medics, she added: “Tom, I need a glucose! And, Bill, set up an oximeter! She’s looking way too cyanotic. And set up oxygen with a nasal cannula.”
“I can’t watch this,” Hannah said, and fled to find Aimée, Juliette, and Camila.
Brian stayed riveted where he was. Although worried sick about Emma, he couldn’t help but be impressed and reassured with the speed and confidence the medics were displaying. Most impressive was how much modern medics could do in the field. In olden times, meaning just a decade or so earlier, ambulance drivers were just that: drivers. They went out and brought victims to the hospital for care. Nowadays it was totally different, with paramedics starting lifesaving treatment right at the scene just like they were doing here. He was hopeful that they’d be able to stop the seizure quickly.