Stepping into the stranger’s house with nothing but a BLS bag and quivering legs, I held my breath, waiting anxiously for the inevitable panic attack I felt I was about to have. As Troy closed the door behind us, I wanted nothing more than to turn and run, bail outside and not look back until I was safely back in the ambo.
Fortunately for my patient, I had no real time to panic because an unconscious woman lay on the floor in front of me. Forgetting momentarily about the man with the gun as my training kicked in, I dropped down next to her limp figure and racked my brain for the proper steps.
Airway.
Breathing.
Circulation.
She was breathing, but barely. Her pulse was weak, her skin cold, and she wasn’t responding to my words.
“What happened?” I asked Troy. When Troy didn’t respond but merely continued to point the pistol at the back of my head, I focused everything I had on the woman in front of me. I didn’t care anymore that he still had the gun. I didn’t care about his situation. All I cared about in that very moment was saving this woman’s life.
“Ma’am?” I shook her gently with no reaction, then tried again as I opened the BLS bag. “What’s her name?”
“Lisa.” Troy was close to me now, even closer than before, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood erect.
“Lisa, my name is Paisley, I’m with the Eagle River Fire Department, and I’m here to help you.” I balled up one fist and rubbed the middle of the woman’s chest, hoping for a pain reaction. After what seemed like an eternity, she groaned, and her eyes fluttered open. “Lisa, can you hear me?”
She nodded, but barely, and she looked terrified as her eyes flickered back and forth from my face and back to the ceiling. I wrapped a BP cuff around her arm to check stats, glad that Lisa was at least conscious now.
“Did you hit your head?” I asked her. “And did you fall?”
“Yeah,” she said softly, moaning with pain as she put one hand to her head. “But I didn’t fall. I was pushed.”
“Did you pass out when your head hit?”
“For a second, yeah. Then I got up.”
“And then he hit you some more?”
“He kicked me . . . the monster kicked me in the head.”
Troy said nothing to this. He didn’t even bother denying it. What he did, however, was place the gun barrel on the back of my head. Ignoring the stab of fury in my chest, I took a quick, deep breath and continued my exam.
“How are you feeling right now?” I asked. “Your blood pressure is low, but that’s to be expected.”
“My head hurts.”
“Where?”
She pointed to a bruise on her upper right forehead. It was about a centimeter across and closed, but black and blue as hell.
“Anywhere else?” I asked my eyes on the bloody gash under her hair. “Where did you hit it on the ground?”
“Here.” She reached her hand up to the gash. When she brought it back, her fingers were coated with crimson. She winced, and I reached into the bag for some gauze, parting the hair on her scalp to get a better look.
“It’s pretty deep,” I said. “You might need stitches. Are you hurting anywhere else? How does your neck feel?”
“It’s…okay.”
“I need you to lie still for me, okay?” I reached over to yank a cervical collar out of my bag, sliding it carefully under the woman’s head so I could secure her spine. I froze, fingers still on the Velcro of the CV collar around Lisa’s neck. I’d almost forgotten about the man behind me when once more I felt the cold nozzle of the gun against the base of my skull.
“Hurry the fuck up,” Troy hissed. “Hurry up, or I’ll kill both of you.”
“She needs to go to the hospital.” I took a deep breath, fighting the urge to snap at him and die. I had no idea whether Troy would actually kill me, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to risk it. “Her head might be worse than we thought. She could be hemorrhaging somewhere. We have to take her in.”
“No one is going anywhere.” Troy slammed the gun hand against the wall, shaking the windows and leaving a small dent in the drywall. I flinched but didn’t move from my position near my patient. Lisa looked as terrified as she grappled for my hand and squeezed it, closing her eyes.
