KING OF HEARTS - Doctor Strong
“Bill,” Ruth breathed. “Let’s renew our vows here in a couple of years. It would almost be as if your whole family, all the generations, were here with us, smiling down on us.”
“Of course, Ruthie. We’ll plan on that. I’m glad you’ve taken to my family so much. You belong here, you know?”
They walked back out, closing the door behind them. Holding hands, they made their way back up the path towards the jeep.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, Bill shouted, “Look out! Move!” and simultaneously, Ruth heard a buzzing sound along with a pistol shot. At the same time she felt herself shoved off the path where she landed on the ground before rolling fast and getting back to her feet. Bill took another shot, a killing shot, at the rattler before it could strike again.
“Ruth, are you ok?”
“I’m fine. You shoved me completely out of the way. Are you ok? Did it get you?”
“Let’s get to the jeep. Pretty sure he just hit my boot. I don’t think I’m bit.”
“Bill, sit down right where you are. On the off chance you are bit, the more you move, the faster the venom will spread through your system. Which leg?”
“Right leg,” he answered, as beads of adrenaline driven sweat were already popping out on his forehead.
Ruth helped him ease to the ground. She pulled and finally yanked his boot off, pulled up his pants leg and stripped off his sock. “Where did he hit you? Up? Down? Inside? Outside? I’m not seeing any marks or punctures.”
“Mid-leg, outer side. I’m not in any pain. I think my boot must have saved me.”
Ruth examined Bill’s leg visually and ran her fingertips lightly across his shin and calf. Halfway up his leg, to the outside of his calf she felt wetness and when she looked at her fingers saw two red smears. Using her knife, she sliced upward on his pants leg, opening his jeans to his knee. Rotating his leg for an easier visual, she saw the two puncture marks with a small trail of blood oozing down his leg.
With no second thought, she pulled out her ranch phone and punched star-one-one, the SOS on the Allen ranch network. In less than a minute several shots echoed, first from the direction of the big house and then from the stone house. In another moment, the shots rang out again. Howie and the men in the tech room had located them and help was on the way.
“Ruth! What are you doing?” Bill demanded, struggling to get up.
“Bill, sit still! They’ll be here soon. They know how to get here. I don’t know how to get us home from here.”
“I can drive, Ruth.”
“No, Bill, you can’t. You’ve been bit! You’ve been bitten by a big rattler. Look at it over there! It’s huge! You may become very sick, very quickly. You may lose your leg. You may lose your life! Your leg is already swelling up and you may lose consciousness soon. Get this through your head, Husband: at the moment, I may just be a long-retired nurse, but I am the only field medic you have, and I am calling the shots. Understand?”
Bill lay back in the grass with a disgusted grunt. Ruth dialed into the technology room where Howie answered on the first ring. “Howie! Bill’s been bitten by a rattler. We need help, now. And can you locate the closest antivenom?”
“Will do, Ruth. I’ll call you back.”
Ruth plucked a pen out of Bill’s shirt pocket, and drew a circle around the bite, noting the time next to it. “Bill, you need to sit up if you can. We need to keep your heart higher than your leg.”
A few moments later, the phone rang back. When she answered, a cold chill went through her as she listened to Howie. There was no antivenom on the ranch or at the clinic in town.
“Howie, can you find out if there is any type of air support available to pull Bill out of here and get him to a larger facility? If I recall correctly, there is a safety factor for antivenom, for best chances of a fast recovery with the least amount of tissue damage. Unfortunately, I don’t remember what that time factor is. We need help out here, Howie.”
“Harris and his men are already out there on rounds somewhere. They’ll be there soon. Doc and Sarge are leaving right now.”
The men already knew the steps to take for such an emergency, but Bill proudly watched as his wife took charge in an emergency, as if she’d been doing it all her life. Despite the pain starting to course through his body, he caught himself with a slight smile as he listened to her orders, his eyes following her every movement.
Ruth ran up the path to the jeep, only to find the keys were no longer in it. They must be in Bill’s pocket. As she turned to run back, she realized the jeep was parked on a downhill grade and without a second thought she climbed aboard. She released the hand brake, put it in neutral and rocked the seat as hard as she could, determined to get the jeep rolling. She rocked once, twice, but the jeep refused to move. She swore and started to climb out. As her left foot dangled from the jeep, the vehicle gave a sudden jerk and began rolling. Remembering the lesson from her dad, she popped the clutch and was rewarded with the engine roaring to life. She drove it back down the path for Bill to lean against. Shutting off the engine, she snatched up one of their water bottles and searched the jeep for a first aid kit, clean napkins, or anything she could use to clean the wound. Having been in mothballs for so long, there were no supplies in the vehicle today.
She swore and with no hesitation, pulled off her outer shirt. Using her knife, she cut a large swatch of fabric from around the bottom edge. Ripping the cotton strip in two, she wet one piece for Bill’s forehead, now streaming sweat. She used the other to clean and dress the wound as well as she could.
“Bill?” she called out to her patient while she worked. “Bill! I need you to use your good leg to brace with and scoot your butt back against the wheel so you can be sitting up again. I’ll help you, and if you can’t do it, I’ll do it myself. Or I’ll jockey the jeep closer to you. But we need to keep your heart above the bite.”
“Ruth…” Bill panted slowly, “Get the gas can…off the back of the jeep. It’s empty. You can lift it. Set it up…against the tire. I can…prop against that without you having …to drag me…or run me over. And I didn’t shove you.”
“Hold on. I’ll be right back.” Ruth spoke calmly, but she felt panic rising in the back of her throat. Bill’s words were slurred, his eyes were closed, and he seemed to struggle for every breath. Her efforts to release the gas can were for naught. As she began to panic, the can suddenly sprang loose and fell to the ground. As she picked it up, she once again detected the scent of cigar smoke, just as she had for an instant before the jeep began rolling down the path to Bill. She muttered a quiet, “Thanks, Grandpa Will,” as she lugged the can to the side of the jeep. Once she had it up against the tire, it was just a matter of tugging Bill into a sitting position with his back against the can.
Her phone rang again. Howie reported that a small chopper was on the way with a medical team. He asked for Bill’s vitals. Ruth recited what she had before adding, “Slipping in and out of consciousness, Howie. Bite is on mid-right leg, to the outside and rear, just above boot level. I’m slicing his pants leg again. He’s swelling up too fast! ETA on chopper?”
“Hold on...You should be hearing them in a few minutes, Ruthie. Doc and Sarge will probably get there about the same time as the chopper.”
Ruth pulled out her buck knife and started slicing Bill’s jeans leg upward again. “Howie! His leg is already darkening and swelling. I’ve been out of the nursing profession far too long. Isn’t it too soon for that?
“Just means the venom is starting to work. Just keep him still. Are you safe? Is the snake still alive or did he kill it?”
Rapid hoof beats interrupted her answer and announced the arrival of Harris and two of his security officers. “Ruth! Ruthie!” Harris was shouting. “Where are you?”
“Down here! In front of the chapel!” she yelled back. Harris rode down into the clearing and dismounted, pulling his stethoscope and cuff from his kit as he ran. Shoving those into Ruth’s hands he shouted to his men to signal the chopper. Ruth went into action, checking Bill’s BP and other vitals again while Harris cleaned and dressed the wound again.
The ‘whup-whup’ of chopper blades overhead became audible about the same time the ranch truck came barreling down the hill. “BP is too low, Harris. It’s only been ninety minutes since he was bitten. We can’t let him crash. He can’t crash! It’s too soon!”
“Calm down, Ruth. The chopper is here. Come on. Let them work. They’ll have to start some fluids first. That will help bring his pressure up a bit. And it’s only been an hour and a half. If he can get antivenom within the first four hours, he’ll likely be fine with no lasting damage.”
Picking up what was left of her shirt, Harris draped it around Ruth’s shoulders. “You might want to slip this back on over your tank, Ruth. Kind of cool here in the shade. You did good improvising dressings out of your shirt,” he praised her. The paramedics started an IV before transferring Bill to a stretcher. As they started back to the chopper, Ruth was following close behind. “Ma’am, you can’t come with us. There’s no room in this bird. We’ll be taking him to Wichita.”
Sarge stepped up to help load the stretcher. “Bill!” Ruth shouted loudly to be heard above the chopper blades. “Bill Allen! You hang in there! Do you hear me? Don’t you leave me here alone, mister! I love you, Bill. I love you!”
The chopper lifted off as Harris handed his reins to one of his officers. Turning to Doc and Sarge, he asked them, “Are we driving or flying to Wichita?”
“We are flying, gentlemen!” Ruth answered decisively for everyone and strode to the ranch truck.
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