Trauma Drama

The ER’s Guard holds his hand up, signaling them to stop and hold their positions as he continues to ease closer. The patient then drops the machete. I kick it toward the ER’s guard, who immediately removes the weapon from our sight. The other officers surround us and offer protection while Carla talks to the patient. He is shaking, but he lets me take his vital signs.
Security then escorts the man to a private area. One guard stays with him while he is seen by doctors and is admitted to the psychiatric unit. Security also removed the machete from the ER.
Whoa, now I can catch my breath. I look at Carla, and all I can say is, “Wow!” She grins at me nonchalantly and goes right back to triaging other folks. Dave was right. Security guards do come quickly.
Carla and I are told that we did a great job controlling the situation. I didn’t tell them I almost shit myself. Thank God for the panic button, the security guard, and awesome Carla. Dave sure picked a great time to leave and get something to eat.
Where is Dave? I hope he gets back soon. My thoughts are interrupted as a man runs into the ER via the ambulance bay, yelling, “My wife is having a baby in the car.” At the same time, EMS is bringing in a possible stroke patient. I direct the paramedics to take the stroke patient strait to one of the critical-care rooms. The stroke team has been alerted, and is waiting in the ER. There is only a three-hour window to prevent brain damage from the onset of stroke symptoms by administration of thrombolytic medication to dissolve clots. Time is brain.
“Goldie, take a cart out to the car, get the pregnant woman, and bring her inside,” states Carla. “Also, take some gloves, just in case.”