Friday, November 8, 2013

Snippet of the Day

Snippet of the Day
When Mia walked through the doors of the gym, all hell was breaking loose. A crowd of men were up in the boxing ring. Loud shouts coming from a pack of panicked men bounced off the high ceiling. Her eyes landed on a pair of feet on the floor sticking out from the huddled circle.
“Did someone call 911?” one of them yelled.
“I called...I don’t where the fuck they are,” someone barked back. Mia stared at the crowd of men.  Her walking in on this was no accident. Her mind spun, taking in the chaos around her. Someone was in trouble, and they needed helpher help. Mia’s palms grew damp. Her pulse quickened, thumping hard into her throat. She quickly walked across the gym, trying to see what was going on up in the ring. One of the men turned, his stare direct.
“What’s wrong with him?” Her voice squeaked, high with hysteria. Mia chewed on her lower lip. 

“We don’t know. He’s out cold.” A younger guy leaned back on his heels, his eyes wide with fright. Mia dropped her purse and darted up the stairs that led into the ring.
“I’m a nurse. Get out of the way. Someone go outside and wait for the EMTs.” Her tone was now firm. Those first three words had the crowd moving back. Her legs shook as she dropped to her knees.
Mia leaned down and checked his breathing. His skin was warm. There was life still inside him, but his chest was not rising. She tipped his chin back, checking his pulse, and cleared the airway. No respirations, no pulse. She tipped his chin again, held his nose, and began rescue breathing. She sealed her lips around his. Briny sweat salted her lips and mouth. Her lungs pushed air into his sweat- drenched chest. After two quick breaths, she moved right into CPR.
Her body trembled. Her nerves were torqued and on complete overload. Her palms pushed into his chest as she silently counted before shifting back into rescue breathing. She completed two cycles, moving like a well-oiled machine. By the time Mia reached thirty chest compressions, the EMTs were there with a defibrillator. Mia stood up, her head heavy and dizzy. She wiped off her mouth, her face soaked with perspiration. His musky smell was on her, draining into her pores. Was it his fragrant sweat or the smell of pending death?
Mia stood back and watched the EMTs work. Her stomach was tipping in sickness, a nervousness that had her insides binding together. A light touch on her shoulder had her attention turning to Sal. His weary expression had her eyes suddenly spouting tears.
“Thank God you came.” His aged face twitched. Mia lowered her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking. Sal slowly led her down the stairs and out of the ring.
“I’m sorry,” she choked out.
“Don’t be sorry.” Sal’s burly hand caressed her back in soothing strokes. “I think you might’ve saved his life.” Sal’s words of admiration had her sobbing harder. “Drew didn’t mention that you’re a nurse.” 

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