Page 140 of Summer with the Single Dad

“I’ll call the paramedics,” said someone.

Spa staff were now crowded around. “Without an airway, she’ll be dead before the paramedics get here,” Justine said, still doing chest compressions. She glanced up and searched for someone who looked like they had authority, zeroing in on a woman in sage-green scrubs with a nametag that said “Ellie.”

“Ellie, I need the sharpest kitchen knife you have—but not one used to chop the cucumbers—a straw and hand sanitizer.”

Ellie nodded and rushed away.

“What are you going to do?” Brooke asked.

“I need to perform an emergency cricothyrotomy.”

“A what?” Brooke exclaimed.

“I need to make a small incision in her throat to open up a new breathing pathway, otherwise this woman is going to die.”

Ellie ran back with a paring knife, a bottle of hand sanitizer, and a straw. “Here.”

Justine accepted the items from her and doused Jenn’s neck in hand sanitizer as well as the knife, and her own hands. “Wait, is this a paper straw?”

“We’re a green facility.”

Growling, Justine scanned the wall of staff. “Someone give me a freaking pen. Remove the ink from it. Now.”

While she waited for the pen, she tipped up Jenn’s head to expose her throat, then she felt around for her larynx. “Brooke, do you know how to do compressions?”

Brooke nodded. “I’m up to date on my first aid.”

“Good. As soon as I slide the pen in, I need you to resume compressions. Okay?”

“O-okay.”

Justine took hold of Jenn’s larynx with one hand, then brought the knife up to incise the skin, subcutaneous tissue and cricothyroid membrane precisely in the midline to access the trachea.

Blood flowed down Jenn’s neck and over Justine’s fingers, but that didn’t phase her. “Where’s that pen?” she demanded, holding out her hand.

She wasn’t even looking, she was too focused on her patient. But in less than a second, a pen was placed in her open palm. She covered it in hand sanitizer before carefully inserting it into the small incision, then placed her cheek next to the top of the pen to feel airflow.

Thank god.

“We have breathing,” she announced. Brooke immediately started compressions.

The spa staff cheered and Justine searched for a pulse. She found one.

Sitting back on her heels, she was unable to keep the smile from her face. She wiped away a stray strand of hair from her face, only to realize too late that she’d probably smeared blood all over her cheek. There was blood on her white robe too.

“Paramedics are on their way,” someone said.

Justine nodded. “Good. She’ll need a tracheotomy in a proper facility as well as epinephrine.” Brooke was still doing compressions. “I can take over.”

Brooke sat back on her heels while Justine took over with compressions until the paramedics arrived.

“This woman is a hero,” another spa employee said, as the paramedics wheeled Jenn away. Her friend—who couldn’t find an EpiPen in Jenn’s purse—at her side.

Heat burned Justine’s cheeks, but she tried not to smile.

“We’d like to offer you any service you want free of charge,” Ellie said, coming up and shaking Justine’s hand. Crap. She still had blood all over her.

“I just want to change into a new robe and wash my hands and face first. If that’s okay? My friend too.” Brooke’s robe was also covered in blood.

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