That didn’t give them much time to stabilize this man and prepare him for transport.
James dropped Adam’s black bag, open, and then raced around to the other side of the tractor. Adam was aware of his brother squatting on the other side of the machine and knew he was trying to figure out the best way to extricate this man.
Adam left that to his brother and focused on his patient. “What’s his name?”
“Tommy—Thomas.” An older man knelt down, close but not too close. “My grandson. Damn fool, I told him not do it that way.”
“Does he have any medical conditions? Heart? Diabetes?”
“No. Nothing like that.”
“How old is he?”
“Nineteen.”
Lord have mercy. Adam saw the gash above Tommy’s knee, watched the bleeding, and reached into his bag for a tourniquet. He was able to tie the leg off above the cut, and the bleeding slowed to a mere trickle.
“Okay, people, listen up. We’re going to start to try and lift this bitch, but slowly. You, here, you there, and you, there.”
James’s voice, his presence, reassured Adam. Fifty-four minutes.
“I can help.”
Feminine, neither young or old, the voice held conviction.
“Good. You stand here, get a good hold. Now, this is vital. If either my brother or I tell you to stop, you must hold where you’ve lifted this thing to. If you don’t stop, or if you drop it, that could result in harming Tommy even more. Ready?”
They must have nodded because Adam sensed that his brother dropped to the ground so he could observe the other side of the patient.
Adam focused on his patient—or rather, that part of the patient under the tractor that he could see.
“Ready? Lift on three. One, two, three! Slowly…slowly…”
Adam saw there was no part of Tommy’s body on this side hung up in the machinery. “Clear.”
“Here, too. Okay, let’s get this away from him!” James must have joined the group. The tractor lifted and thank God it wasn’t a full-sized one! Adam moved and slid his hands under Tommy’s shoulders and, as gently as he could, eased the man away from the machine.
“Watch yourselves! Set it down, he’s clear!”
Then James was there, checking Tommy’s left side for injuries then quickly slipping on the blood pressure cuff. Adam grabbed his stethoscope and listened, his eye on the second hand of his watch. Forty-eight minutes.
“BP’s one hundred over seventy.”
“Heart rate at sixty and thready.”
“I’ll go call an ambulance,” a young woman said.
“There’s no time. We’ll drive there ourselves. We can take one more person with us,” Adam said.
“I’ll come.” It was the woman who’d helped lift the tractor. “He’s my boy.”
Adam nodded then carefully lifted his patient. It wasn’t ideal, but there was no time. The golden hour had now become the golden forty-five minutes. He looked up. “Call Hamilton General. Tell them Dr. Jessop is bringing in a patient who may need immediate surgery and describe the accident. Visible heavy gash to the right thigh, close to the artery. Tell them we should be there in twenty minutes.”
“On it.” The man who said that looked young, but competent. Adam walked to the car, grateful when someone ran ahead and opened the back door. One thing about a Cadillac, it had a roomy back seat. He laid his patient down. His bag appeared, open, on the floor next to him. He felt the motion of two more people getting into the front seat. And then James was backing out and headed right back the way they’d just come.
Adam didn’t have to ask. James stepped on it, possibly setting a Jessop land-speed record as he raced them to all back Hamilton General Hospital.
Chapter Sixteen
Pamela waited until five thirty, and then she called her mother-in-law. She trusted Maria to have sound advice, and it pleased her very much that the advice she received was the same thing her heart was urging her to do. In fact, Maria offered to drive her there.
Pamela filled a thermos of fresh coffee to take with her. It didn’t take all that long to reach her destination. Maria pointed out Adam’s car in the doctor’s lot, so they knew the men were still there. At six forty-five p.m., she entered the emergency department of Hamilton General Hospital.
The woman at the desk had a pleasant smile. Pamela was used to working in a hospital environment. This emergency room, at this point in time, was blessedly quiet.
“Hello. I’m Mrs. Jessop. My husband, Dr. Adam Jessop, brought an accident victim in this afternoon. I was wondering if you could tell me if they’re still in surgery?” She’d been grateful that James had taken a moment to call her earlier. He’d explained what had happened and then mentioned that, since the matter had been critical, Adam and he were going to operate on the young man and that it might take a while. She’d known they had privileges at the hospital. It didn’t surprise her one bit that they’d want to see this situation through.
She knew their hearts and knew the depth of their dedication to their patients.
“How do you do, Mrs. Jessop? I do believe they’re still in the OR, but I’ll just check with the reception nurse in the surgical department.”
The woman made a quick call then hung up the phone. “Becky says they’re still in surgery. I can direct you to the waiting room, and she’ll let your husband know you’re there when the procedure’s complete.”
“Thank you.”
The directions were simple, and within a few minutes, Pamela had located the surgical waiting room, which was on the second floor. Becky, it turned out, had been waiting for her. “The nurse just let me know a few moments ago that they expect the surgery to be finished within the hour.”
Pamela knew she looked horrified. “I hope I didn’t cause any extra work for anyone!”
“Oh, no, ma’am. It’s standard practice for the team to let me know when they’re getting close to the end of the procedure so I can call ahead to
