Chapter Text
In most ERs, weekends and holidays tend to see the highest flow of patient traffic.
In L.A, any night could be a weekend night.
Lyssa had founded her own small private company, HELP Inc, to fill a gap in the market. Many public figures were hesitant to call 911 or risk just showing up at a hospital, which meant there was a need for discreet emergency medical technicians, doctors, etc, who could show up to tend the wounded, the overdosed, the sick, and so on.
Most calls were fairly uneventful; a quick run-down of the person's medical history, checking their vitals, and leaving as quickly as she'd arrived. The most exciting call she'd ever taken was for a well-known leading man whose secret live-in lover had gone into labor with neither of them even being aware she was in a family way until the birth pains started. Lyssa had been able to give calm reassurances and help deliver the healthy baby girl, the shocked parents more in need of moral support than medical help.
The worst were, of course, the handful of death scenes she'd attended. If the body was already in rigor, police had to be called. She didn't make the rules, and she sure as hell didn't break them. Lyssa was grateful that those grim calls were rare, and hoped to continue her three-month no-deaths streak.
Hearing her phone buzzing on the bedside table, she opened her eyes. Only 2.13 a.m, and there was a call for help, a woman having shortness of breath. No stranger to anxiety, Lyssa knew it could be nothing more than a panic attack - or it could be life or death. Any number of things could cause breathing difficulties, and time was of the essence.
She slid into her riding leathers and threw a set of clean scrubs into her go-bag. Her bike sliced through the humid September night air, taking her ever closer to the address given. Her best co-worker, Janine, was already en route, but the bike was faster.
Up a hill to a house with a great view Lyssa sped. A woman met her out front, face streaked with mascara from crying. "She's by the pool."
A pool? Had the patient been in the water? That would complicate things; if she'd aspirated -
Entering the front door, Lyssa made her presence felt, the crowd of party guests moving aside to give her space. A straight shot to the back door, and there was the woman in question, stretched out on a deck chair, clutching her chest.
Lyssa got down on one knee, opening her bag to retrieve the blood pressure cuff.
"I need to know everything she's eaten, drunk, or taken. I'm not a cop; I don't care if she uses drugs - but I need to know everything that's in her system, in order to keep her safe."
Lyssa strapped the cuff to the woman's arm, which felt cold and weak. Her eyes were wide with fear, and Lyssa knew that panic would make any issue worse.
"Just try to take slow breaths for me. We're gonna figure this out."
Mascara girl started listing everything the friend had consumed, and Lyssa stopped her when the woman began to babble.
"Do you have any allergies?"
The patient nodded, trying to speak. Her friend jumped in. "Eggs, milk, and sesame seeds."
The party guests had been eating crudites with hummus.
Shit.
"Does she carry an epipen?," Lyssa asked, then decided not to wait. "This is to help your airways open up," she explained, uncapping an epipen and jamming it into the meat of the patient's thigh. A few affronted sounds and gasps from the peanut gallery rippled through to Lyssa, but she ignored them. The woman winced, but then she relaxed in the chair, color returning to her face, the fear in her eyes dimming somewhat.
"Better?"
She nodded. "I've.. always been scared to use mine. I didn't even bring it with me."
Lyssa leveled with her. "Hummus contains sesame seeds. No more hummus, okay? The epipen will start to wear off in about fifteen minutes, and you may need a second dose."
Janine arrived just in time to overhear. "She's right. And every allergic reaction involving breathing requires a trip to go get checked out."
The woman looked crestfallen. Lyssa noticed the reason why - the strikingly handsome man currently crouching down at the other side of the chair.
"It's gonna be okay. Raincheck. Want me to go with you?," he offered.
The girl shook her head no. "This is your party; you can't just bail."
Lyssa heard Janine explaining the risk of a secondary reaction, and that they needed to go now. Lyssa had a contract with a chain of urgent care centers in the city, meaning those using HELP Inc had less of a wait (and a greater degree of privacy).
After doing some quick digital paperwork, the patient scribbled a signature with her finger onto Lyssa's iPad. Janine helped the woman to the waiting ambulance, which had been disguised as an ordinary box van. Two other colleagues would be waiting inside, ready to spring into action if things took a turn.
Lyssa was placing items back into her bag, the adrenaline now kicking in and giving her the shivers.
The man of the hour, host of the party, tapped her arm to get her attention.
"Sorry about your friend, but she should be fine. They'll take good care of her for you."
He nodded, lips pursing. "Scared the shit out of me."
Other women were waiting, hanging back for fear of seeming too eager in the face of his first choice's misfortune.
"Would you like to settle up now, or should I bill you?" She felt like a heartless cunt, asking for payment while he was still shaken, but HELP Inc charged far less than standard ambulance services, and besides, he had called her to do a job. The job was done, and money was owed.
Hasan looked at the total on the iPad, then tapped his card on the corner of the screen. The bleep of the payment being accepted sounded so chipper and out of place, but it signaled that Lyssa was free to leave.
"Hope your night gets better from here," she quipped, and he gave her a strange look, deciding whether or not to pop off. Hasan decided at last to take it as a good sign that his friend/intended date was going to be alright, and laughed.
"Yeah. Thank you."
She left, and Janine let her know via text just as she was crawling back into bed that the woman - Valerie - was feeling much better, thank you.
Lyssa dozed off, grateful that Valerie was okay, and that she hadn't made an ass of herself in front of one the men she most admired.
L.A is a small town, and one run-in greatly inreases the chances of another..