The open space seemed to lower Benny’s anxiety and help him cope.
Rylee imagined that there was no feeling quite so claustrophobic as not being able to get enough air and then having all those bodies looming overhead.
“Sir, I’m putting you on speaker.” Neesa lay Benny’s phone on the ground as she pushed Benny’s sleeves up, then searched his neckline. “Do you know if Benny has a medical condition? Is he taking any medications that you know of? I’m checking for medical alert jewelry.”
“No,” A deep voice rumbled with concern. “Benny was complaining of indigestion earlier. He said he’s felt like that for the last few days. We noticed this morning that he was a little gray and sweaty. And our colleague asked Benny if he needed to see a doctor. He said he’d go tomorrow if things hadn’t improved. I’m in a ride share. I’ll have them turn around.”
“Sir, the paramedics are en route,” Neesa told him. “Please stay on the phone for questions.”
“Sir, did you say that Benny was sweating earlier?” Rylee asked.
“Yes. Not a lot. On his forehead and upper lip.”
“Had he just exercised, like climbed the stairs?” Rylee asked as she felt Benny’s forehead for a fever. “Or had he just eaten something spicy?”
“No. I don’t know. I doubt either one. Benny takes the elevator, and he said he’d had heartburn for a few days, so he was having antacids for lunch.”
Benny was cold and clammy. Rylee locked eyes with Neesa. Obviously, this situation was dire. But anytime someone was sweating without a reasonable explanation, it was time to seek medical help. Benny should have been in the hospital hours ago.
Rylee suddenly found herself holding Benny’s weight as he lost consciousness, going slack in her arms.
Shifting out from under his back, Rylee lay Benny flat on her coat. As she scrambled to get around to Benny’s side, Neesawas pointing at the briefcase guy, “Find the AED machine now. It’s hanging on a wall, probably somewhere near the tickets. Use your voice, call out to get everyone looking. Run there. Run back.Safelyrun back.”
Rylee didn’t see what happened next. Adrenaline shrank her world to only the information that would help her save this man. On the battlefield, with her injured Marines, it cancelled out the sights and sounds around her, to her benefit and detriment. It was indeed a double-edged sword. She didn’t hear the bombs whistle, or the ratatat of machine gun fire. She had to act as if her own life wasn’t in imminent danger as she focused on the work in front of her.
And as it was then, so it was now, tunnel vision.
Tapping hard on the man’s shoulder, Rylee shouted, “Sir, can you hear me?”
Nothing.
She spat on her fingers and used that to wet her cheek as she dipped Benny’s chin back and hovered over Benny’s nose and mouth. There she held, counting ten. If there was even a stray wisp of breath, the moisture from her saliva would make the air movement more pronounced.
Nothing.
Rylee looked at Bean Counter. “Repeat this: He’s not breathing—cardiac arrest.”
Bean Counter’s face burned red as she screwed her features up tightly, looking determined not to cry over the human tragedy unfolding in front of her so she could keep doing her part.
Rylee loosened the man’s tie and reached into the opening between the buttons on his blue and white pin-striped shirt. Grasping either side, she pulled her elbow up and out in one swift move, ripping the shirt open.
Tiny buttons pinged across the platform.
Sweat formed in Rylee’s pits, and her shoes had somehow come off her feet. She flipped to a four-by-four combat breath.
Rylee had performed life-or-death interventions in the battlefield with bullets whizzing over her head, a bullet-resistant vest strapped around her torso, and a metal helmet cooking her brain under the desert sun. She could certainly deal with this. “Neesa, start CPR with me. I’ll take compressions first. There’s a vapor barrier on the keychain in my coat pocket.”
Rylee knelt beside the man, using her fingers to trace down his sternum to find the end of the ribs so she could stay clear of the tiny triangular bone that could wreak havoc if it was dislodged. One hand stacked on top of the other, lacing her fingers, locking her elbows, and placing the heels of her hand about halfway down his breastbone and in between his nipples, she thrust downward.
Rylee was back on the battlefield, where she set all emotion aside to focus; she’d deal with the human side of all this later, in the quiet and dark of night. Now, she used her body weight to increase the pressure, her hands buried in a thick carpet of chest hair. When the AED got there, they’d have to shave patches on Benny’s chest to get the pads to stick.
“He’s lying on your coat.” Neesa was reaching under Benny as she fished around and drew out Rylee’s keys.
“Neesa, put music on.”
Lunging forward, Neesa grabbed Rylee’s phone, held it in front of Rylee’s face to open the security, and pulled up the music playlist they’d created at work for CPR training.
Each song ranged from 100 to 120 beats per second. The variety of music helped the teams from zoning out on the counts.
