Eric Flint - Time spike

The setup was nothing like the hospitals and clinics she was used to.

Quick access to supplies and equipment during emergencies where seconds frequently made the difference between life and death was not the guiding principle in the storage and location of supplies and equipment inside the prison's infirmary. Staff safety and prevention of prisoners' access to anything that could be used as a weapon were the only factors. "Do we have anything I can cauterize the wound with?" Lylah's eyes narrowed. "We're not allowed to do that, the wound is too deep. Best we can do is re-sew her." "Damn." Jenny slipped on a yellow paper gown and pulled on a pair of rubber gloves. "Get me a suture kit," she said, removing the blood-soaked bandage. "First things first. Turn around," Lylah said. Jenny turned and the elderly nurse handed her a pair of latex gloves and then slipped a paper mask over her nose and mouth. "Thanks," she said. Lylah opened the suture kit. "Increase the saline to 60 and the oxygen to 6. And turn the lights up." Barbara came through the door with three warmed blankets.

"The guards are making us more, just in case." Jenny nodded, looking at the jagged tear in the woman's skin. She had been cut from just below the umbilicus to just above the pubis. "I can't see where it's coming from," she said, rinsing the area with saline. "Damn. The stitches are all intact. This is new." She began the process of applying pressure systematically, looking for the source of the blood flow. She was going to have to open her up. "I have to take them out, get inside, see what's going on." Lylah's face was tight. "You're on your own," she said. "I've been awake too many hours. Besides, my eyes aren't any good for that type of work. Never were. And Barbara's an LPN. She's good, but she hasn't been trained for anything invasive."

Lylah stepped away from the table and returned with a suture removal set. "Do we have anything to put her under with?" "No. Just a local, and that's not very potent. And even if we did, none of us has been trained to administer it." Jenny suppressed a groan. If the local was what was used earlier, it was almost useless for what she was going to have to do now. "I've served with the military overseas. Plus, I did missionary work in Latin America. I can administer anesthetic. I've also done surgeries under conditions much more primitive than we have here." "Surgeries?" Lylah Caldwell spread one of the heated blankets over the woman's chest and shoulders. "Maybe you have. But that was then and that was there. Now, here at the prison, you don't have the authority to do anything more than snip those stitches and re-sew her." Jenny looked up from what she was doing, then back down again.

Her voice was firm, clipped. "We are in an emergency situation. This woman will die if we wait until someone with the authority shows up.

Are you willing to have her death on your hands?" "It wouldn't be. But if I let you pretend you're a doctor and she dies, then I would be as responsible as you. Sorry, but I'm not willing to join you in prison just because you say you know how to do something. I know you're a nurse practitioner, but here, with no doctor present, you're a nurse.

Nothing more." Lylah stepped back from the table. "You will lose your license and get at least ten years if you do anything more than re-sew her. That is practicing medicine without a license." Barbara Ray, the LPN, gave Jenny a sad look then turned toward the older R.N. and said,

"Lylah, you're right, practicing medicine without a license is illegal." She draped an arm across the woman's shoulder. Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. "We won't do anything we shouldn't. Relax."

She reached across the table and handed her a set of keys. "Go on break. You need it. You've been here too long. Take a pillow and a blanket, go to the records room and lie down on the desk or the counter and go to sleep. I'll take care of this." The older woman's eyes lost their cold, angry look and filled with tears. "I can't; I'm exhausted. You understand that, don't you?" Barbara nodded. "I know that; we both are. And Jenny is no fool. She understands the rules.

You go get some sleep, and we'll do what we can here." She motioned toward the C.O. standing outside the open door. "Glasser, how about helping her with the blankets and pillows." "Sure. No problem." The guard gave the R.N. a quick hug and said, "When you wake up I'll have coffee waiting for you." With no one in the room but the two nurses, Barbara handed Jenny the tools she needed to cauterize the wound. "We have just about anything you need for emergencies. It's the comfort measure materials we have trouble getting." Jenny looked at the gleaming metal tip and inwardly winced. This was going to be rough on the woman. The anesthetic was completely inadequate. But she would hemorrhage to death without it. The procedure took less than five minutes. Twenty-five minutes after they started, Brown's bandages were in place and the woman was asleep. When Jenny finally sat down at the desk it was Barbara who spoke first. "I have to get some sleep. I've been awake for over thirty hours. I'll be in the break room on a table." She grinned. "That was some mighty nice work you did. Half the doctors we have here are druggies, doing community work to stay out of the slammer. They couldn't have done it." "Thanks. For the compliment, and the warning about the docs. I didn't know that. I thought they were hired by the state." "Some are, but some aren't." Jenny nodded and made a mental note to nose around and learn which was which. "For a woman with no training in invasive procedures, you didn't do so bad either." Barbara Ray's smile was replaced by a look of worried concentration. "Yeah, well, Lylah was just talking. Working here, as short as we are and as violent as some of our emergencies get, you stay up on your skills. And you wind up stepping out of your area of official expertise fairly often. You just don't talk about it. Not if you're smart." Jenny picked up on the hint and decided it was time to change the subject. "How many of the psych docs are here as part of a plea bargain?" "None. They're here because they want to be." Barbara shrugged. "They have to think they're helping. It can't be for the money. The state doesn't pay enough for that." "How's Brown?"

Blacklock asked Jenny as she walked out of the examining room and into the wide hall that doubled as a reception area and rest stop. "I think she'll be okay. I've started her on I.V. antibiotics. That room is not exactly sterile. If I don't give her something, she'll get a hellish infection." She sat in a chair next to the door. "How long until the phones are working?" "I don't know." "This is the craziest thing I've ever gotten myself into," she said ruefully. "No wonder you guys can't keep nurses." The captain chuckled. "It's usually not this bad.

Honest." He looked at Hulbert. "I've never seen anything like that… quake. Have you?" Hulbert shook his head. "I just hope we don't get hit with an aftershock." Five minutes passed. "I'm really out of my element and I'm betting you guys are, too." Jenny pulled the rubber band from her hair and started reapplying it. "What's up with the sun? And the barometric pressure. And that quake. And the way the sky looks. I have never seen such a blue sky." Neither man answered.

They were looking at the floor, their brows creased, their elbows on their knees and their hands dangling between their legs, still and calm. Jenny slumped in her chair. Exhaustion, caused from the tension of the last-she looked at the clock-four hours, washed over her. She had hoped this job would be easier than her last one. That, obviously, was not going to be the case. She glanced to where Frank Nickerson was lying. In spite of the light and the noise, he was sleeping soundly enough that a soft snore could occasionally be heard. His gurney was parked in the hall, since there was no place else for him. At least no place convenient enough for a staff of one to keep a close eye on him.