His vitals were tanking.
BP: 60/40.
Pulse: thready.
Respiration: shallow.
Saturation: barely holding.
He was already halfway gone.
“Lacey, I need full vitals monitored and a blood transfusion started now. Type O-negative until we get a match. Get ready to suction as soon as I begin. Nurse Kim, I want surgical clamps and gauze prepped. And give me a trauma tray—he’s crashing fast.”
They moved like clockwork.
Lacey grabbed the vitals monitor and adjusted the settings with practiced speed. Kim was already preparing the clamps, her gloved hands steady.
I looked at the impalement.
It wasn’t clean. The branch had entered through the lower left quadrant of his abdomen and exited near the right flank. Jagged bark had torn muscle, fat, and likely ruptured something vital.
We couldn’t pul
