‘It’s up ahead,’ she says.
Buffeted by the wind, the lighthouse towers in front of us against the gray sky while the waves crash against the rocks.
‘Dispatch, this is 4-2-6, come in.’ Jaden has grabbed the radio again.
‘4-2-6, this is Dispatch.’
Alex parks the car.
‘We’re on scene,’ Jaden reports, then we get out of the vehicle.
The salty moisture in the air settles on my skin like a film. Jaden shoulders the emergency pack and we march to the door. A teenage girl, pale and her face contorted with pain, is lying on the narrow spiral staircase inside the lighthouse. At her side stands the first responder from the local fire department, who now steps aside for us.
‘What happened?’ Jaden immediately kneels down next to our patient.
‘She fell down the stairs and landed on her hip,’ the man replies. ‘I treated her as best I could, but something’s probably broken.’
I give him a nod, take down the data, and have him confirm that her parents have already been notified. ‘Thanks, we’ll take it from here,’ I say at the end.
‘I can’t move,’ our patient murmurs, pressing her pale lips together.
Jaden gently places a hand on her shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you. Do you have pain anywhere besides your hip?’
Looking for a spot from which I can support Jaden while he works, I edge past a pillar.
‘Every time I move, it feels like someone is ramming a knife into my thigh.’ The young woman groans loudly.
From here I can’t help; I have to get to the other side, over to where Jaden is. The space next to him, however, is pretty tight.
I squeeze my way over to him and examine the girl’s leg. Shortened, abnormal position. ‘Suspected femoral neck fracture,’ I say. Jaden shoots me a knowing look. ‘We need to stabilize her and give her painkillers before we move her.’
‘Yeah, but look at the space we’ve got here.’ He points to the narrow staircase that barely offers enough room to treat the patient properly or use a stretcher.
At last I’m beside Jaden, so close to him that my right side touches his left as I sink down onto the floor. I feel every slightest tension in his body, how his muscles work, how controlled his movements are.
‘I’ll place an IV before we transport her,’ I murmur, trying my best to ignore his nearness.
My elbow brushes Jaden’s chest, my knee nestles against his for the fraction of a second. At once I feel heat under my skin.
The cramped space forces me to practically slide onto Jaden’s lap to get the IV solution out of the emergency backpack. His breath brushes my neck, his arm touches my back. Images of the two of us yesterday in the rain haunt my mind, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
He raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his gaze. ‘Tight in here, huh?’
Way too tight. ‘Hold this.’ I press the IV solution into his hand and try to find a vein in the patient’s arm in the dim light of the stairwell. ‘Do you have a flashlight?’
It takes a moment, but then the light of a flashlight flares up. A moment of concentration, a needle prick, and the line is in.
‘We’ll wait a bit until the painkillers kick in, then we’ll get her out of here.’ However that’s supposed to work. I turn to Jaden. ‘We definitely can’t manage it with the stretcher, can we?’
He leans against the stair railing, his focused gaze roaming over the spiral staircase. ‘No, there isn’t enough space for that, we can only try the rescue chair.’
‘Too risky if she has a femoral neck fracture.’ I bite my lip. Both options are anything but ideal. ‘Is there another way?’
‘We’ll carry her in a half-reclining position.’ Jaden looks down the stairs. ‘It’s only a few steps. If we stabilize the leg beforehand and administer additional pain medication…’
Yes, that’s the best way. ‘Good, give me a splint.’
We carefully set to work.