NOTE: Hello! I'm back with my second story ...
Mark Twain's famous quote says "Write what you know" and I followed his advice as I began this story, which is a combination of things that I have knowledge of and things that I love, things that have made me suffer, things that have made me happy ... resulting in a Clexa story about love, friendship, pain, fear, passion and much more ... There will also be some medical terminology throughout the story, so don't hesitate to ask if you have any questions or doubts and/or if I have been carried away at some point, leaving something unclear or not well explained in the process.
Welcome and I hope you like the story! 😊
S.
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" ... 28, 29, 30... " Clarke stopped the chest compressions as the ER nurse squeezed the Ambu bag twice, forcing air into the lungs of the patient through the attached face mask. "No electrical activity," Clarke said, glancing at the flatline on the monitor. "Switch with me and continue with the compressions... I'll intubate," she said as she moved over to the patient's head.
"Yes, Dr. Griffin," the nurse nodded before she started with the chest compressions.
Clarke grabbed the laryngoscope handle with her left hand and put the Macintosh curved blade inside the patient's mouth, moving the tongue to the left and out of the way so she could visualize the larynx. She then took the endotracheal tube with her right hand and placed it between the vocal chords, pushing it down the trachea, advancing to a distance of 21 cm. As soon as she was done, she connected the tube to the oxygen and secured it with tape around the patient's mouth after confirming its correct placement.
"Lincoln, what's happening with the IV access?" Clarke asked the other ER nurse who was struggling to find a vein.
"I'm trying my best," he answered, visibly sweating. "But this girl's veins are a mess... God knows what she has been shooting up..."
"The naloxone still hasn't had an effect," Clarke said with a frown on her face. "We need that IV stat..."
"I'm in!" he exclaimed excitedly.
"Good... Give her epinephrine 1 mg," Clarke said. "Emori, how are you doing over there?"
"I'm good..." the nurse replied, panting. "One more round before we switch," she said as she continued with the chest compressions.
Twenty minutes and a few more dosis of medication later, they were still unable to bring the young woman back to life.
"Damn it..." Clarke said, sweaty and panting, with her hands positioned firmly on the patient's sternum between her breasts, going at a steady rate of 100 compressions per minute. "Come on..." she said as she stopped for a brief moment to look at the monitor, seeing that awful flatline again.
" Still no pulse," Lincoln said, pressing his index and middle finger on the patient's carotid artery.
"Damn it," Clarke puffed before she continued with the compressions. "Let's give her more Naloxone..."
"Dr. Griffin... We're already at 10 mg..." Emori said.
"Shit..." she said quietly, sounding defeated.
"Clarke," Lincoln interfered. "We've done everything we can... She's not coming back... Who knows how much time had passed before they dropped her out of the car in front of the ER..."
"It's not over," Clarke insisted, continuing with the CPR. "I just need to get a pulse... At least some kind of electrical activity so I can defibrilate, damn it..."
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Flatline (CLEXA AU)
FanfictionClarke Griffin is extremely good in a crisis situation. She's in fact pretty much addicted to the serenity she feels every time after cleaning up the mess at work. Flatline is the last thing she wants to see on the monitors in the ER, yet her person...
