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WIP: stabbed!Wilson, Part 3, redone
Cuddy caught up with him half-way. The rapid click of her heels on the linoleum announced her arrival even before she called out to him.
"House!" He didn't stop, so it was a moment before she came up beside him. Together, they passed through the big swing doors of the ER. Cuddy was rather out of breath, and her eyes were wide. "Brenda said you trached him?!"
"I did," House said. "The trachea was lacerated."
"Oh God. What the hell happened?"
House didn't answer, partly because he wasn't sure himself, but mostly because he had spotted a congregation of on-lookers before trauma room one. He quickly made his way over there.
"Move," he told the nurses and ER staff. "Get out of the way."
They did, and House pushed through the doors into the trauma room, Cuddy on his heels.
The room was chaos. House could spot at least two doctors and way too many nurses crowding around the table, assisting, suturing or simply trying not to get into each other's way. There was a certain confidence to the commotion, though, and House could see that they seemed to have managed to stop the bleeding.
He threw a glance at the IV stand, and at the sight of two transfusion bags his stomach unclenched a bit. Still, he had to force himself to step to the side and keep out of the way - the urge to grab a gown and gloves was strong, but he knew he wasn't able to move as fast as it was required in a situation like this.
House squinted to be able to make out the bags' labels and saw that they were type specific, A positive. Of course, Wilson would have had his emergency info card in his wallet where it was easy to find. For once, House felt grateful for Wilson's conscientiousness.
"BP's holding at one hundred systolic," a nurse said. "He seems to be stabilizing."
At her words, House felt some of the tension in his body relenting. They'd managed to react in time. The actual damage wasn't all that bad, and the main danger, the blood loss, they were about to get under control. Barring any freak circumstances, Wilson would be okay.
He reached for the wall behind him, needing some stability since his knees seemed not all that reliable at the moment. He felt a hand on his elbow, and turned his head to look at Cuddy. He met her eyes and saw that they were a little brighter than usually. Out of habit, a part of him scoffed at that, but he felt a small knot in his throat himself, so he didn't say anything. He simply lowered his eyes and tried to gather himself.
That was when his eyes fell on the foley bag. Red streaks, dissolving in the otherwise clear yellow liquid. His heart skipped a beat, and then he heard the monitors go off.
"BP's dropping!" a nurse yelled over the racket of the flurry that the alarms had caused. "Systolic down to ninety!"
"Squeeze the blood in faster! Where's the rapid infusor?"
"No!" House took a quick step forwards and grabbed a nurse by the elbow to stop her from doing what the ER doc had said. "Get him off the blood!" His cane clattered to the floor as he let go of it in order to stop the transfusion.
"House!" The ER doc's voice. "What the fuck are you doing?"
House grabbed a couple of gloves from a nurse that was standing nearby and started to detach the tube from the IV needle in Wilson's hand. "Look at the foley," he said, his voice tense. "He's having a hemolytic reaction."
The ER doc stared at him for a second before he went around the table. From the corners of his eyes, House could see him frowning as he saw the red urine.
"It's the right type," the other ER doc said, his eyes on the label of the RBC bag. "He's A plus, isn't he?"
"Yes, he is," House said, pushing the IV stand with the blood aside. "Some idiot at the blood bank must have mislabeled the bags. Get that blood retyped and add a screen to his labs. Where's the BP?"
"Eighty-five and dropping."
House's stomach clenched again at these words, but he tried his best to ignore it. "Stand by with epi," he said. "And get some new blood." He turned to one of the other nurses. "Make sure it's the right type this time."
"Hang another bag of saline," the ER doc said and stepped forward, giving House a look that seemed to say, nice one, but this is my case. House glared back, but he backed away from the table, bending down to pick up his cane. "Prepare a dopamine drip, let's get that BP up so we can get him to the OR."
"House!" At Cuddy's sharp tone, House turned around.
"What?"
She was standing a bit further back next to one of the nurses, a rapid blood type test in her hand. "Are you sure he's A plus?"
"Yes I'm sure," he said, limping over towards her. "I signed his emergency info card."
"Because this blood," she gestured at the transfusion bag that was still hanging on the IV stand, "is definitely blood type A plus."
House stared at her for a moment before he snatched the test from her fingers and stared at the results. "These must be wrong," he said, looking up and feeling his chest clench a little.
Cuddy shook her head. "I ran it twice. It's only a rapid test, but -"
"Dammit." House pushed past her to the phone on the wall, interrupting her in mid-sentence. He glared at the nurse. "What's the extension for the lab?"
"Thirty-four eighty-seven," she said, and House quickly punched in the numbers on the dial pad.
"Pathology unit, nurse John-"
"Shut up," House snapped into the receiver. "This is House. A few minutes ago an emergency blood screen for trauma one came in."
"Yes, the one for -"
"Exactly, that one. I want you to add a screen for all high-frequency red cell antigens. Make it quick."
There was a very brief pause at the other end, but House had to give nurse John- from Pathology credit that she didn't ask for confirmation. "Will do," she said, and hung up.
House put the receiver back onto the base and paused for a second, acknowledging the way-too-quick beating of his heart. He turned around and met Cuddy's eyes, which were rather wide.
"You think he might have Ab-HF antibodies?" she asked, and House ran his tongue over his lips, looking over to the table where he caught a glimpse of Wilson's dark hair. The rest of him was being obscured by the nurses, doctors and medical equipment.
"I hope not," he said quietly. But nothing else really made any sense. "You'd better call his parents," he added. "They need to get their blood screened. We might need a donor."
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for some reason this is much more nervracking than the first version...
can't wait for more!!
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More soon! I hope ;).
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NEVER. Anyone who objects is in the wrong fandom (my opinion) House is, after all, a medical show!
And yay to more soon!
*goes to try and figure out that header thingy*
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Well, yes and no. Complicated medicine is okay in any fanfic. But long complicated paragraphs consisting of long complicated sentences with long complicated words that sound as if they were c&ped from Wikipedia are unacceptable and BORING in any fandom.
I read a fic once which would have been a really good fic, if the author had refrained from blabbing on about the anatomy of the neck for ages. This way, I didn't get past the first chapter, even though the writing style and characterization wasn't even all that bad.
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Alright, that IS boring. But what I meant is that in a fandom of a medical show a little well done medicine in fics isn't so bad. Even though it's hard to do for any non-medical person. I know I don't do it myself too often, because the research alone is a pain in the ass, so I'm always glad to get a fic where it's done.
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*gg* That it is. If I didn't have any interest in medicine, I don't think I'd be doing it, either.
Yes, I like well-done medicine in fics, too. But it's hard to get it right, especially when you don't know your way around medicine at all. You seldomly have any choice but to c&p from Wiki, so I guess it's better to leave the medicine out of the fic completely if you really have absolutely no idea what you're talking about (the way I leave anything legal out of my fic, because I have no idea about law and stuff ;) ).
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true, or just be vague enough about it to let people who know more fill in the rest and people who don't know more can just skim over it. Or avoid it at all and concentrate on TEH HAWT H/W... *gg*
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That's the best thing to do in *any* case. Or at least the occasions when you're running out of plot and need something to keep the reader interested ^^.
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Then there's Stacy the "constitutional law" attorney (whatever that is other than a course at law school) who is working in a job that requires experience in corporate, contracts, healthcare, FDA, and HR issues -- none of which she would have. Yuck!
I will now stop venting. <big sigh.
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The worst medicine ever, though, was the hemispherectomy in 3x15. IM IN UR HED, CUTTIN OUT UR BRAINZ!!1 LOL! I know by now that in some rare cases, this procedure is actually performed on patients, but not in a patient who can talk and play the piano better than Mozart! House, you fail... *gg*
The biggest irk ever, though, is House running eight miles on a leg whose "mobility was considerably compromised" as he states himself in "Three Stories". The Ketamine might have made the pain go away, but it doesn't magic damaged nerves back to health.
Ah well. But we're not watching it for the law or the medicine, are we? *gg* And the crap medicine gives me an excuse when I make a mistake in my fic, so... *gg*
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Bwahahahahahaha! Talk about a false sense of security. :)
Glad to see you solved your dilemma. Great work, as always.
*eagerly moves onto the next part*