garden

My Garden

Gardening had never been my strong suit but my back yard was a mess and needed some TLC. I had recently come across some photos that had been taken when we bought this house five years ago, that pointed out that landscaping was something that we obviously did not care much about. The rose bushes were overgrown by thistles, there were more weeds than there were plants... The yard was indeed a mess! We probably had the worst backyard in Southern California.

We had moved here from Maine because Dale was offered a job as a Paramedic Instructor for the Fire Academy. He had been a fireman for ten years and paramedic for at least that long. He also had a BS in Education he had never used. We needed a change from Maine and Los Angeles provided us with a nice change in climate and culture.

Any way back to our garden. I had a few days off and decided that with good weather I was going to try and beautify our yard. To say the least I was enjoyed being outside but was making little head way in ridding our backyard of the weeds. I decided to take a break when I stood and felt a sudden awful pain between my toes. I looked down to find a bee had stung me. "Shit," I said. "Damn that hurts," I muttered as I limped into the house.

I had been bitten before and knew if I just washed the site well and put some ice on it, in twenty minutes I would be fine.

California bees must be more virulent then Maine Bees because it wasn't ten minutes and my foot began itch. then it began to swell. "Oh boy, this is no usual bee sting,"I thought. Being a paramedic I knew I was having a worse than normal reaction I was have an anaphylactic reaction to a bee sting. Thoughts of Epinephine and Benadryl began to fill my head (the treatment for anaphylactic reactions.)

Most people at this stage in the game would call 911 but, I instead I called Dale at work. because I knew what I needed, I just needed transportation to the ER. Not Rescue and an ambulance. Not me.

I called the Fire Academy and got Cindy the receptionist, I told her the story and she said she would go interrupt his class and be right back, the next voice I heard was Dale telling me what to do,"Call 911 now," he told me emphactically.

"No, Dale, I just need a ride to the ER," I argued, wife to husband, forgeting that I was a paramedic.

Dale in his usual calm tone said, "I will home in ten minutes just let me tell my class I'm leaving."

I should have known, he called 911 after he hung up with me. He identified who he was and stated to the dispatcher that his wife was at home having a severe anaphalytic reaction to a bee sting. (he told me this after everything was over)

That BUM! I was so embarassed. Gage and Desoto arrived at my house five minutes after Dale had called Headquarters.

Dale knew both of them very well because they were Paramedic preceptors.He had high regard for both of them. They treated his students with respect and taught them a lot about street sense, something they could never learn in class.

They walked in and introduced themselves as friends of Dale's. They had a black box and a red box with them and they came over to the couch where I had sitting with my foot on the coffee table.

I was beginning to feel glad that they were there, when a lump suddenly appeared in my throat, and a deep breath was beginning to be a effort. "Ah fellas, I'm having trouble breathing." I let them know in a less than panicked voice.

Roy got out the O2 and put a mask on my face while John called the hospital. " Where did you get stung?" Roy inquired. "Between my 1st and 2nd toe," I told him while he was looking at my swelling red foot.

My attention turned to Roy and his blond hair and caring eyes not to mention his strong male firefighter physique as the room began to turn white. That's was the last I remember before waking up to a female voice yelling at me (at least what I thought was yelling at time) to open my eyes.

I woke up on a stretcher in the ER at Rampart in a very ugly mood. "Alright already. Stop yelling," I directed at the nurse who would not let me sleep!

The female voice belong to Dixie McCall, an ER nurse at Rampart General Hospital. who had been trying, since I arrived via ambulance, to wake me up. I awoke with a mask over my face, an IV in my right arm and my heart pounding out of my chest. "What happened?" I inquired. Dix shared with me that I had been stung by a bee. " I know that," I said sarcastically. "I mean to say, the last thing I remember is the paramedic asking me where I was stung," I barked back.

Dixie began to explain the details of my endevor, as a very worried husband open the door to the treatment room.

"Can I come in," he asked shyly.

Dix said, "Sure," without hesitation.

"Gage and DeSoto filled me in on what happened. How are you feeling?" My husband asked genuinely concerned. I could see the worry on his face.

"I feel tired and my heart feels as though it is going to come out of my chest it is pounding so hard," I replied.

" No wonder," Dix said, "Roy ended up giving you double normal dose of Epinephrine and Benadryl because you were unconscious and weren't responding to even a sternal rub. He was also concerned about your red rash and your wheezing that were getting worse," Dix continued to explain.

"Are they still here, Hon?" I asked.

"Who?" Dale returned.

"The paramedics, Dale," I continued.

"Yes," he said, "They are getting supplies and waiting for me to come out and tell them how you are doing. You scared them as much as you scared me," he replied.

"Dix, can they come in? I want to thank them," I asked.

"No problem," Dix said cheerfully.

Dale left and a few minutes later came back with the paramedics from Squad 51. I was formerly introduced after I expressed my heart felt thank-you's and hugs for both of them.

Gardening would wait for yet another day.

Author's note: Hope you enjoyed my response to Heather's challenge.
Deb Flint

" My Garden " ©1999 Deb Flint. "Emergency!" and its characters © Mark VII Productions, Inc. All rights reserved. No infringement of any copyrights or trademarks is intended or should be inferred. This is a work of fiction, and any similarity to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.

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