Page 79 of Doc Hollywood

The actress was frozen to the spot, her eyes wide and unblinking. Clara waited, and when Devon didn’t move, she lunged over and snatched two boxes of gloves, small for her and extra-large for Taylor, as she had the feeling she was going to need his help very soon. She dumped them on top of the anaesthetic machine so they were in easy reach. Pulling a pair out, she slipped her hands into them.

She turned back to Mr Atrosky, grabbed some scissors off the anaesthetic machine, and used them to cut the front of his shirt open; snatching the pads of the defibrillator, she peeled the backing off and stuck them to the director’s chest.

“Oh no,” Lacey interrupted the dispatcher she was talking to, “that was Prada; he’s going to be very upset.”

Clara shrugged. “Oh well.”

She ignored the assistant’s protests about designer clothes while she waited for the blood pressure to finish cycling; her eyes didn’t leave the ECG on the screen, which showed this was a heart attack.

“What is your emergency?” The voice from the phone asked, and Clara indicated that Lacey should stand closer to her.

Raising her voice, she said, “Hi, my name’s Doctor Clara Upford. I’m a consultant anaesthetist. I have a sixty-nine-year-old man with a known cardiac history who is having a STEMI. His sats are ninety-two percent on room air. I still have a pulse. However, it’s weak, and he’s lost consciousness.”

“Thank you. Stay on the line; an ambulance is on its way,” the dispatcher replied.

Taylor was back by her side, offering her a tray with her cannulation equipment; she gave him a brief smile, took the tray, and moved down to Mr Atrosky’s hand to insert the drip.

“Taylor, do you remember how to give oxygen?” Clara pointed to the mask hanging from the side of the anaesthetic machine.

Taylor nodded and stepped forward to grab it.

“Great. I need you to put on some gloves and give him some oxygen, okay? Just like I showed you, lift his chin and get a good seal,” Clara confirmed. “I’m going to get this cannula in.”

“No problem.” Taylor didn’t hesitate, following her instructions exactly.

Clara moved to stand by Mr Atrosky’s arm. Quickly getting the drip in, she stuck the dressing on to secure it. The tone ofthe monitor suddenly changed, and her eyes flew to the screen; he was in cardiac arrest, and the monitor showed the frantically erratic rhythm of ventricular fibrillation, also known as VF.

Clara announced loudly to the room, “Everyone. We have a cardiac arrest. I am charging the defibrillator.”

She dashed over to the box and pressed a couple of buttons until the familiar noise of a defibrillator charging filled the room.

“Everyone stand clear.” Clara checked carefully to make sure no one was touching the bed before she said, “Shocking.” She then pressed the red button to discharge the energy into Mr Atrosky’s heart.

The director’s body jolted on the bed as the current flowed through him. There were audible gasps around the room, but Clara ignored them, concentrating on her patient.

“Charging again.” She waited for the defibrillator to charge and delivered the next shock, which again caused his body to jolt on the bed.

This time, there weren’t just gasps. There were stifled sobs.

“Charging again.” While the box gained its energy to deliver what she hoped would be a life-saving shock, Clara carried on talking. “I need every person in the room who knows CPR to put gloves on and get in a line. Once I’ve delivered this shock, we need to start chest compressions.”

No one moved; everyone seemed too stunned.

She raised her voice, “Grab some gloves and get in line.”

And suddenly, there was a flurry of activity as five people donned gloves and lined up.

Not ever drawing breath, she checked the defib screen, which still showed ventricular fibrillation. “Everyone stand clear, shocking.”

The director’s body jolted off the bed.

“Start CPR. We are going to do thirty chest compressions to two breaths.” She hit the timer button on the anaestheticmachine. “Lacey, come and stand right here. I need you to tell me when two minutes are up. Taylor, I’m right behind you. I’m going to intubate him, and I’m just grabbing a couple of things. I can’t remember where I put the tube ties, so once it’s in. Your job is to hang onto it, okay.”

She didn’t wait for Taylor to respond before she hip-checked him out of her way, a laryngoscope in one hand and tube in the other. She opened the director’s mouth and put the blade in.

“Stop compressions,” Clara requested.

The person pumping on the chest, desperately trying to keep the blood and oxygen flowing, paused, staring at her wide-eyed.

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