Synopsis: Johnny’s thoughts after being snakebit. Based on the episode, Snakebit.
Word Count: 866
I should have been more careful. I knew that. Hector had really plowed a trail for us and the snakes would have been looking for somewhere else to hide and the crashed car was perfect. Everything had just settled down nicely, and there I was, blundering around. Small wonder the snake got annoyed.
Still, it hurts like hell. Cap sounded really alarmed over the HT. Hector doesn’t look too happy either. Guess whoever comes down to my rescue won’t be very pleased either and I can’t blame them. I was careless. Guess I’d better get started trying to do something about the bite. I am the only paramedic on the scene. I wish Roy was still here.
Uh-oh, it’s swelling. Already. That’s not good. The snake must have had a full venom sack. Lucky me, huh? Miles from anywhere, the air ambulance has just left and I go and get bitten by a rattler. Boy, I’m glad to see Chet and Marco arriving.
I’m really not feeling too good when we get back up to the top. Thank goodness Hector still had the tractor down there. I don’t think I want to drive a tractor. Those slopes are seriously scary. A couple of times I didn’t think we’d make it. I’m not mad keen on the guys carrying me to the engine like this. It’s pretty uncomfortable, but I know I shouldn’t be walking around. In fact, I should probably be sitting somewhere letting my heart rate slow down – ‘cos yeah, I’m gonna be calm after being bitten by a venomous snake! Which idiot writes these guidelines? Have they ever been bitten by a snake?
For a horrible minute, I thought I was gonna lose my lunch all over the guys as they lifted me onto the engine. Awkward simply wasn’t the word for it. I don’t know who brought the trauma box over, but I’m kind of glad they did, even if Brackett does want me to give myself an IV. Is he kidding? I hate needles! I don’t mind them going into others, but I hate them going into me, and not only do I have to watch this time, but I have to do it, too. I hope they don’t want regular updates because it’s always hell patching through dispatch.
My BP’s not so good. Don’t think I’ll tell them that. Oh, they want to know anyway. Suppose I didn’t really think I’d get away without telling them. Thank goodness I got the stick first time, because I’m so nauseated that there’s no way I could try it again. Cap put a hose behind my head for me to lean on. I’m glad he thought of it and it is better than banging my head off the rail around the top, that’s for sure. I wish Chet would leave my leg alone. I know he’s only trying to help, but the suction clearly isn’t working and it hurts!
Oh no, the hospital wants updates? I can’t keep my eyes open and my mouth is numb. I don’t think this is good. Oh great, they didn’t understand what I said -– am I slurring already? Couldn’t have been that bad, Cap understood. Hope Roy isn’t hearing all this. He’ll feel really guilty ‘cos he wasn’t here to help. Suppose it would’ve been nice to have someone else to start my IV…
I’m drifting. The engine seems to be moving more smoothly. Maybe we’re on the road now. I can’t open my eyes to look, I’m just too tired….
I’m told it was pretty close. I was unconscious when I reached the ER so I don’t really know what happened. Next thing I knew, I was in bed, my body propped upright so that my leg was below the level of my heart in case I had a further reaction to the bite. I didn’t remember that bit from my training. I was pretty sick for a couple of days –- something to do with a reaction to the antivenin. Seems it’s pretty common, although that was something else I didn’t remember from my training. Hey! Maybe we never covered that in training.
And let me tell you, snakebites swell! The bite on my leg was huge –-and disgustingly colored with bruising! Boy! I didn’t even mind when Brackett said I couldn’t go home till the swelling was all gone. Gives me more chances to chat up the nurses. That’s my excuse. I don’t want to tell anyone that I felt pretty bad for the first couple of days. At least I’m on the mend now and can eat.
Poor Chet was quite hurt when Mrs. Petersen didn’t remember him. He’s a good guy, Chet, even if he is a pest with his lousy jokes and his porn-star moustache. But I’d never tell him that he’s a good guy. We don’t have that kind of friendship. I don’t know what kind of friendship we do have, but Roy tells me we definitely have one and Roy’s smart. I believe him.