Poem: "Who Puts Their Life on the Line"
Jun. 19th, 2021 03:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ysabetwordsmithThis poem was written outside the regular prompt calls. It fills the "Lead / Follow" square in my 6-13-21 card for the Cottoncandy Bingo fest. It has been sponsored by Anthony & Shirley Barrette. This poem is part of the Stronger Wings arc in the Broken Angels thread of the Polychrome Heroics series. It is the first in a set of three, followed by "Becomes the Saving Grace" and "One Act of Pure Love."
Warning: This poem contains graphic violence. Highlight to read the warnings, some of which are spoilers. It includes the Tatters ambushing the Broken Angels, a firefight, graphic violence exceeding canon-typical levels, officer down, standing up in the midst of a shootout to provide cover fire, really messy medical details, rude language, character death (one of the Tatters), soul manipulation for first aid purposes, acute stress reaction, personal care, platonic shared shower, denial, minor freakout, and other challenges. Good care is provided in the aftermath. Don't panic, Ned will be fine. Cas will be fine other than some understandable freaking out. If these are touchy topics for you, please consider your tastes and headspace before reading onward. This sets up an important plot point, so skipping it would leave a gap.
"Who Puts Their Life on the Line"
[Sunday, March 6, 2016]
A few days after Hali's wing repair,
she had finally stopped feeling
sore and cranky, which was a relief.
She still complained that her shoulder
felt "funny," but Heron had warned
them that it would take time for her
to get used to normal motion.
Cas needed to run errands,
and also get out of the house,
so he left Hali with Edie for a bit.
Hali was more interested in
the big box of toys that Edie
kept for visiting grandchildren
than in daddy's boring errands.
So Cas went out walking
with Boss Blaster and
Pug to carry packages.
They talked about
the Little Free Libraries
and which houses could
be fixed up with a bit of work.
As they crossed the parking lot
of the pawn shop to look at
the lawn equipment out front,
something went BANG.
A dizzy whirl, and then
Cas found himself crouched
behind a van. "Stay here,"
Boss Blaster said, pushing
down on his shoulder. "Let
me and Pug handle this."
Cas nodded frantically.
The boss disappeared,
presumably to deal with
the people shooting at them.
Cas huddled behind the van
and tried to ignore the bullets
whanging into nearby vehicles.
For all he knew, they might have
bolt pistols too. That would suck.
He caught glimpses of the attackers
as they darted around -- the Tatters.
They must be pissed at Boss Blaster
for standing up to them, but starting
a firefight in town was just nuts.
"Police! Freeze!" That was
Ned's voice, followed by Gregg,
"Drop your weapons! Now!"
Cas had never been so glad
to hear the police arrive.
The Tatters did not drop
their weapons, though.
They just kept shooting.
Then Cas saw Ned fall,
a pool of red spreading
from underneath him.
"Officer down!" Gregg yelled.
"I repeat, officer down. We
need some backup here!"
Cas hesitated. There
was still shooting, and if
anything happened to him,
Hali would be left alone.
But Ned had kids too, and
he'd helped Cas before.
Cas gathered himself to rush.
"Wait." Boss Blaster was
suddenly beside him again.
"I'm going to give you some
covering fire. You grab Ned
and drag him back here. Got it?"
"Yes, boss," Cas said. He was
terrified, but he could follow orders.
Boss Blaster stood up with a gun
in each hand and fired so fast that it
became a continuous crackle of sound.
The other side stopped firing, though,
leaving a moment of opportunity.
Cas scrambled over to Ned, grabbed
his shoulders, and hauled him behind the van.
They left a clear trail of blood on the ground.
Cas found the small wound on the front,
which wasn't enough to make that much
of a leak, so he groped around until
he found the bigger wound in back.
His wilderness first aid training
had absolutely not covered this,
but he figured it was closest to
impalement on sharp objects,
for which the first aid amounted
to "plug the leak and call medevac."
Cas wasn't sure that Ned would
last long enough for an ambulance.
"Just do what you can for him,"
said Boss Blaster. "I've called
for some serious backup." Then
the gunfire started up again.
"Stupid fucks won't stay down.
"You stick tight; I need to move."
Then he was gone again,
leaving Cas with Ned.
Cas had a hip kit with
bandaids and wipes that
would do nothing for this.
Thinking fast, he stripped off
his sweatshirt and stuffed it
underneath the bigger wound,
then used his T-shirt to plug
the smaller one in the front.
Ned woke up as Cas was
packing cloth into his chest,
and started coughing pink foam.
"Don't move and don't try to talk,"
Cas said. "Just hang on. Help
is on the way. You stay with me."
Ned stared at him with wide,
trusting eyes and nodded.
One of the Tatters flopped to
the ground with half his head gone.
Cas ignored the mess. He had
his hands full with Ned, who
definitely did not sound good.
Desperately Cas clung to
his patient, pressing on
the soggy red cloth as if
he could hold Ned's soul
in place by brute force.
It was exhausting and
terrifying, but he didn't
dare stop. It had to work.
"Think about your kids,
yeah?" Cas said. "You
gotta make it home to them.
I've got you. Just stay with me."
A loud BANG! made Cas
throw himself over Ned.
Suddenly the sound of
gunfire was muffled, though.
Peeking out, Cas spotted
an odd shimmer around them,
held up by a skinny kid with
a big armored guard by him.
Then a stranger in armor
crouched beside Cas. "I'm
the combat healer. Let me
see what you've got here."
"Ned got shot, punched
a hole right through him,"
Cas said, lifting a hand.
The healer put one hand on
Ned's chest and used the other
to open a medical kit. "How is
this guy even alive?" he muttered.
Then he handed Cas a couple of
dressings the size of small pillows.
"Put these on over yours."
Cas obeyed, grateful for
the clear instructions.
"I don't know what you're
doing to keep him alive, but
whatever it is, keep doing it,"
the healer said. "I just need
to get him stable enough for
Thunderball to jump us
into the bang room."
Cas had no idea what
the guy was talking about,
but he kept pressure on
the thick bandages while
the healer did whatever
healers do to fix things.
"Get ready for the jump,"
he warned. "It's quieter inside."
Before Cas could wonder
what that meant, there was
a muffled pop! and then
they were somewhere else.
More medics swarmed around
them, lifting Ned onto a gurney.
Cas clung like he'd been told to.
Finally a new healer said, "We've
got him. You can let go now."
It took a few seconds for Cas
to loosen his cramped hands
enough to pull them away.
He felt exhausted, and
his head was swimming.
As they wheeled Ned away,
Cas looked for somewhere
to sit down, but the motion
made him sway on his feet.
"Careful," someone said,
catching him by the shoulders.
"I've got you. Here, sit down."
Cas was surprised to see
the bodyguard leaning over him.
One hand dragged the helmet off,
letting Cas see his face. "I'm Ludovico,
call me Vico. Let me check you for
injuries, that looks like a lot of blood."
Cas looked down. His jeans
were entirely red. Oh, that
wasn't such a good idea.
He leaned his head against
the wall and tried to slow
his breathing while Vico
patted over his body.
"You got this, Vico?"
said Thunderball. "I need
to go inhale a lasagna."
"I've got him," said Vico.
"Go get yourself some food."
The teleporter trotted away.
"I can't find any injuries, so
let's get you cleaned up,"
Vico said. "Can you walk?"
Cas felt like he was floating
and couldn't find his feet, but
wasn't sure how to explain it.
"That looks like a no," said Vico.
"Okay, no problem. Up you go."
He picked up Cas as easily
as lifting a pillow. "There's
a shower cubicle near here."
It was actually a dottie, the kind
big enough for a small family, and it
had a dressing bench by the shower.
Vico placed Cas on the bench and
peeled off what was left of Cas' clothes,
then efficiently stripped off his armor
and uniform before shifting them
both under the warm shower.
"Don't worry about anything,"
Vico said as he started washing
Cas. "I've got the training
to handle stuff like this."
Cas wasn't about to argue
when he could hardly move.
A silver cross hung around
Vico's neck, flashing in the light
like a fish swimming under water.
Cas watched it move, because
that was easier then watching
Vico scrub him like a toddler.
Finally Vico turned off the water
and fetched towels to dry them off.
"Spare clothes," he said, helping
Cas into a soft gray jogging suit
before claiming another himself.
"Thanks," Cas managed to say.
"Hey, you're awake," said Vico.
"How are you feeling now?"
Cas stared at him. "I'm fine.
I'm not the one who got shot.
Will Ned be all right?" he asked.
"Yeah, they wouldn't have told you
to let go unless it was safe," Vico said.
"They'll get him all patched up. So,
how many calories do you need
after that kind of exertion?"
"What?" Cas said, baffled.
"You don't know?" Vico said.
"Okay, I'll take you to a quiet room
and send for something filling."
"Not red," Cas muttered as
Vico picked him up again. It
was kind of embarrassing, but
he doubted he could walk yet.
"Of course not," Vico said.
"Thunderball's a bit fixated
on lasagna as fuel, that's all.
How about potato-leek soup?"
"Sounds great," Cas said.
Vico poured him onto a couch
and then stuck his head out
the door, presumably to ask
someone to bring the food.
Then the bodyguard fetched
a blanket and spread it over Cas.
"If you're not sure of calorie demand
yet, just think about what you've done
and compare that to how much you
eat before feeling full," Vico said.
"I have no idea," Cas admitted.
Vico looked at him. "Okay ...
well, I'll pass the word then,"
he said. Someone knocked
on the door, and he went to get
the cup of soup. "Here, try this."
The soup was warm and thick,
with a mellow flavor that wouldn't
stress a rebellious stomach.
Cas clutched the big cup
with both hands and tried
not to spill it on himself.
"Your friend should be fine,"
Vico said. "You did great.
You'll get the hang of this."
Cas gave a ragged laugh.
"He's not -- he's a cop, he
ran into the midst of a firefight.
And I don't know what I'm doing.
I had, I had a few first aid classes.
This is so utterly messed up.
What if they blame us for it?
"That seems unlikely," Vico said.
"So he's not a superhero or even
a working soup? An ordinary cop
just jumped into a cape fight?"
"Yeah, but that's Ned," said Cas.
"I don't think he even realized
he was outclassed and should
have stayed out of it. I mean,
the boss hid me behind a van
because I'm not a fighter."
"That's good," said Vico.
"It kept you safe so that
you could help Ned later."
"Yeah," said Cas. "I don't
know what I'll do if -- I mean,
Ned has a family. What in
the world was he even thinking?"
"The police officer who puts their life
on the line with no superpowers,
no X-Ray vision, no super-strength,
no ability to fly, and above all
no invulnerability to bullets,
reveals far greater virtue than
a superhero whose powers
minimize his risk," Vico said.
"Yeah," Cas said. "That's Ned.
He's a hero, but he's not super."
Vico shrugged. "You don't need
super powers to be a hero. You
just need super compassion."
Cas sniffled, then finished
his soup. "I don't even know
what I'm doing here," he said.
"Thunderball brought you with us
because Genoah needed your help
to keep the patient alive," Vico said
as he took the empty cup from Cas.
"Don't worry, you both get a lift home."
"Home, shit, I left my daughter with
a sitter --" Cas flailed, but didn't
have the strength to get up.
Vico pushed him gently against
the couch cushions. "Someone
will have taken care of that,"
he said. "You need to rest
and get your strength back
before you go home, or else
you're liable to scare people."
Cas gave a heavy sigh. "Guess
I can't argue with that one."
"Why don't you lie down
and take a nap?" Vico said.
"It'll probably take an hour or
few for the healers to patch up
your friend. It will be better if
you're more alert to hear about it."
"I can't just crash in a strange place,"
Cas protested. "Nobody even knows
where I am. And what if somebody
else needs this room? What if --"
"Your boss called for backup, so yes,
your people know where you are,"
Vico said. "There are several of
these quiet rooms just outside of
the emergency department, so that
people can crash here as needed.
I'll stay with you while you rest."
Cas was beyond exhausted,
and he had no idea why.
He hadn't done any fighting;
other people handled that.
He was just so tired that he
could hardly keep himself upright.
"Fine," he said, letting himself
be swayed by Vico's argument.
"Just a little nap, though."
"Good," said Vico, producing
a pillow from somewhere. He
coaxed Cas to stretch out on
the couch, and then tucked
the soft blanket around him.
"I'll be here when you wake up."
Cas let himself drift away.
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its character, setting, and content notes will appear separately.
Warning: This poem contains graphic violence. Highlight to read the warnings, some of which are spoilers. It includes the Tatters ambushing the Broken Angels, a firefight, graphic violence exceeding canon-typical levels, officer down, standing up in the midst of a shootout to provide cover fire, really messy medical details, rude language, character death (one of the Tatters), soul manipulation for first aid purposes, acute stress reaction, personal care, platonic shared shower, denial, minor freakout, and other challenges. Good care is provided in the aftermath. Don't panic, Ned will be fine. Cas will be fine other than some understandable freaking out. If these are touchy topics for you, please consider your tastes and headspace before reading onward. This sets up an important plot point, so skipping it would leave a gap.
"Who Puts Their Life on the Line"
[Sunday, March 6, 2016]
A few days after Hali's wing repair,
she had finally stopped feeling
sore and cranky, which was a relief.
She still complained that her shoulder
felt "funny," but Heron had warned
them that it would take time for her
to get used to normal motion.
Cas needed to run errands,
and also get out of the house,
so he left Hali with Edie for a bit.
Hali was more interested in
the big box of toys that Edie
kept for visiting grandchildren
than in daddy's boring errands.
So Cas went out walking
with Boss Blaster and
Pug to carry packages.
They talked about
the Little Free Libraries
and which houses could
be fixed up with a bit of work.
As they crossed the parking lot
of the pawn shop to look at
the lawn equipment out front,
something went BANG.
A dizzy whirl, and then
Cas found himself crouched
behind a van. "Stay here,"
Boss Blaster said, pushing
down on his shoulder. "Let
me and Pug handle this."
Cas nodded frantically.
The boss disappeared,
presumably to deal with
the people shooting at them.
Cas huddled behind the van
and tried to ignore the bullets
whanging into nearby vehicles.
For all he knew, they might have
bolt pistols too. That would suck.
He caught glimpses of the attackers
as they darted around -- the Tatters.
They must be pissed at Boss Blaster
for standing up to them, but starting
a firefight in town was just nuts.
"Police! Freeze!" That was
Ned's voice, followed by Gregg,
"Drop your weapons! Now!"
Cas had never been so glad
to hear the police arrive.
The Tatters did not drop
their weapons, though.
They just kept shooting.
Then Cas saw Ned fall,
a pool of red spreading
from underneath him.
"Officer down!" Gregg yelled.
"I repeat, officer down. We
need some backup here!"
Cas hesitated. There
was still shooting, and if
anything happened to him,
Hali would be left alone.
But Ned had kids too, and
he'd helped Cas before.
Cas gathered himself to rush.
"Wait." Boss Blaster was
suddenly beside him again.
"I'm going to give you some
covering fire. You grab Ned
and drag him back here. Got it?"
"Yes, boss," Cas said. He was
terrified, but he could follow orders.
Boss Blaster stood up with a gun
in each hand and fired so fast that it
became a continuous crackle of sound.
The other side stopped firing, though,
leaving a moment of opportunity.
Cas scrambled over to Ned, grabbed
his shoulders, and hauled him behind the van.
They left a clear trail of blood on the ground.
Cas found the small wound on the front,
which wasn't enough to make that much
of a leak, so he groped around until
he found the bigger wound in back.
His wilderness first aid training
had absolutely not covered this,
but he figured it was closest to
impalement on sharp objects,
for which the first aid amounted
to "plug the leak and call medevac."
Cas wasn't sure that Ned would
last long enough for an ambulance.
"Just do what you can for him,"
said Boss Blaster. "I've called
for some serious backup." Then
the gunfire started up again.
"Stupid fucks won't stay down.
"You stick tight; I need to move."
Then he was gone again,
leaving Cas with Ned.
Cas had a hip kit with
bandaids and wipes that
would do nothing for this.
Thinking fast, he stripped off
his sweatshirt and stuffed it
underneath the bigger wound,
then used his T-shirt to plug
the smaller one in the front.
Ned woke up as Cas was
packing cloth into his chest,
and started coughing pink foam.
"Don't move and don't try to talk,"
Cas said. "Just hang on. Help
is on the way. You stay with me."
Ned stared at him with wide,
trusting eyes and nodded.
One of the Tatters flopped to
the ground with half his head gone.
Cas ignored the mess. He had
his hands full with Ned, who
definitely did not sound good.
Desperately Cas clung to
his patient, pressing on
the soggy red cloth as if
he could hold Ned's soul
in place by brute force.
It was exhausting and
terrifying, but he didn't
dare stop. It had to work.
"Think about your kids,
yeah?" Cas said. "You
gotta make it home to them.
I've got you. Just stay with me."
A loud BANG! made Cas
throw himself over Ned.
Suddenly the sound of
gunfire was muffled, though.
Peeking out, Cas spotted
an odd shimmer around them,
held up by a skinny kid with
a big armored guard by him.
Then a stranger in armor
crouched beside Cas. "I'm
the combat healer. Let me
see what you've got here."
"Ned got shot, punched
a hole right through him,"
Cas said, lifting a hand.
The healer put one hand on
Ned's chest and used the other
to open a medical kit. "How is
this guy even alive?" he muttered.
Then he handed Cas a couple of
dressings the size of small pillows.
"Put these on over yours."
Cas obeyed, grateful for
the clear instructions.
"I don't know what you're
doing to keep him alive, but
whatever it is, keep doing it,"
the healer said. "I just need
to get him stable enough for
Thunderball to jump us
into the bang room."
Cas had no idea what
the guy was talking about,
but he kept pressure on
the thick bandages while
the healer did whatever
healers do to fix things.
"Get ready for the jump,"
he warned. "It's quieter inside."
Before Cas could wonder
what that meant, there was
a muffled pop! and then
they were somewhere else.
More medics swarmed around
them, lifting Ned onto a gurney.
Cas clung like he'd been told to.
Finally a new healer said, "We've
got him. You can let go now."
It took a few seconds for Cas
to loosen his cramped hands
enough to pull them away.
He felt exhausted, and
his head was swimming.
As they wheeled Ned away,
Cas looked for somewhere
to sit down, but the motion
made him sway on his feet.
"Careful," someone said,
catching him by the shoulders.
"I've got you. Here, sit down."
Cas was surprised to see
the bodyguard leaning over him.
One hand dragged the helmet off,
letting Cas see his face. "I'm Ludovico,
call me Vico. Let me check you for
injuries, that looks like a lot of blood."
Cas looked down. His jeans
were entirely red. Oh, that
wasn't such a good idea.
He leaned his head against
the wall and tried to slow
his breathing while Vico
patted over his body.
"You got this, Vico?"
said Thunderball. "I need
to go inhale a lasagna."
"I've got him," said Vico.
"Go get yourself some food."
The teleporter trotted away.
"I can't find any injuries, so
let's get you cleaned up,"
Vico said. "Can you walk?"
Cas felt like he was floating
and couldn't find his feet, but
wasn't sure how to explain it.
"That looks like a no," said Vico.
"Okay, no problem. Up you go."
He picked up Cas as easily
as lifting a pillow. "There's
a shower cubicle near here."
It was actually a dottie, the kind
big enough for a small family, and it
had a dressing bench by the shower.
Vico placed Cas on the bench and
peeled off what was left of Cas' clothes,
then efficiently stripped off his armor
and uniform before shifting them
both under the warm shower.
"Don't worry about anything,"
Vico said as he started washing
Cas. "I've got the training
to handle stuff like this."
Cas wasn't about to argue
when he could hardly move.
A silver cross hung around
Vico's neck, flashing in the light
like a fish swimming under water.
Cas watched it move, because
that was easier then watching
Vico scrub him like a toddler.
Finally Vico turned off the water
and fetched towels to dry them off.
"Spare clothes," he said, helping
Cas into a soft gray jogging suit
before claiming another himself.
"Thanks," Cas managed to say.
"Hey, you're awake," said Vico.
"How are you feeling now?"
Cas stared at him. "I'm fine.
I'm not the one who got shot.
Will Ned be all right?" he asked.
"Yeah, they wouldn't have told you
to let go unless it was safe," Vico said.
"They'll get him all patched up. So,
how many calories do you need
after that kind of exertion?"
"What?" Cas said, baffled.
"You don't know?" Vico said.
"Okay, I'll take you to a quiet room
and send for something filling."
"Not red," Cas muttered as
Vico picked him up again. It
was kind of embarrassing, but
he doubted he could walk yet.
"Of course not," Vico said.
"Thunderball's a bit fixated
on lasagna as fuel, that's all.
How about potato-leek soup?"
"Sounds great," Cas said.
Vico poured him onto a couch
and then stuck his head out
the door, presumably to ask
someone to bring the food.
Then the bodyguard fetched
a blanket and spread it over Cas.
"If you're not sure of calorie demand
yet, just think about what you've done
and compare that to how much you
eat before feeling full," Vico said.
"I have no idea," Cas admitted.
Vico looked at him. "Okay ...
well, I'll pass the word then,"
he said. Someone knocked
on the door, and he went to get
the cup of soup. "Here, try this."
The soup was warm and thick,
with a mellow flavor that wouldn't
stress a rebellious stomach.
Cas clutched the big cup
with both hands and tried
not to spill it on himself.
"Your friend should be fine,"
Vico said. "You did great.
You'll get the hang of this."
Cas gave a ragged laugh.
"He's not -- he's a cop, he
ran into the midst of a firefight.
And I don't know what I'm doing.
I had, I had a few first aid classes.
This is so utterly messed up.
What if they blame us for it?
"That seems unlikely," Vico said.
"So he's not a superhero or even
a working soup? An ordinary cop
just jumped into a cape fight?"
"Yeah, but that's Ned," said Cas.
"I don't think he even realized
he was outclassed and should
have stayed out of it. I mean,
the boss hid me behind a van
because I'm not a fighter."
"That's good," said Vico.
"It kept you safe so that
you could help Ned later."
"Yeah," said Cas. "I don't
know what I'll do if -- I mean,
Ned has a family. What in
the world was he even thinking?"
"The police officer who puts their life
on the line with no superpowers,
no X-Ray vision, no super-strength,
no ability to fly, and above all
no invulnerability to bullets,
reveals far greater virtue than
a superhero whose powers
minimize his risk," Vico said.
"Yeah," Cas said. "That's Ned.
He's a hero, but he's not super."
Vico shrugged. "You don't need
super powers to be a hero. You
just need super compassion."
Cas sniffled, then finished
his soup. "I don't even know
what I'm doing here," he said.
"Thunderball brought you with us
because Genoah needed your help
to keep the patient alive," Vico said
as he took the empty cup from Cas.
"Don't worry, you both get a lift home."
"Home, shit, I left my daughter with
a sitter --" Cas flailed, but didn't
have the strength to get up.
Vico pushed him gently against
the couch cushions. "Someone
will have taken care of that,"
he said. "You need to rest
and get your strength back
before you go home, or else
you're liable to scare people."
Cas gave a heavy sigh. "Guess
I can't argue with that one."
"Why don't you lie down
and take a nap?" Vico said.
"It'll probably take an hour or
few for the healers to patch up
your friend. It will be better if
you're more alert to hear about it."
"I can't just crash in a strange place,"
Cas protested. "Nobody even knows
where I am. And what if somebody
else needs this room? What if --"
"Your boss called for backup, so yes,
your people know where you are,"
Vico said. "There are several of
these quiet rooms just outside of
the emergency department, so that
people can crash here as needed.
I'll stay with you while you rest."
Cas was beyond exhausted,
and he had no idea why.
He hadn't done any fighting;
other people handled that.
He was just so tired that he
could hardly keep himself upright.
"Fine," he said, letting himself
be swayed by Vico's argument.
"Just a little nap, though."
"Good," said Vico, producing
a pillow from somewhere. He
coaxed Cas to stretch out on
the couch, and then tucked
the soft blanket around him.
"I'll be here when you wake up."
Cas let himself drift away.
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its character, setting, and content notes will appear separately.
Thoughts
Date: 2021-06-19 07:47 pm (UTC)Need, yes. Have the potential to develop, not so much. Most people can learn basic first aid, many can learn intermediate, but beyond that it bottlenecks quickly. There are a lot of skills and traits that go into becoming a good patcher or paramedic, and not everyone has them. Especially, they don't tend to appear in the same person with good martial skills, which is why combat medics or healers are so rare. A gang is lucky if they can find one person who wants to be in a gang and also patch up injuries. Cas really joined the gang by happenstance, rather than from being a wild thing. His nurturing personality is well suited to first aid, and I'll bet he hustles Molly about more training and equipment.
The other members ... well, all the sex workers have gotten some training in things like "what to do if your client has a heart attack" and "how to handle a skin flap injury from slipping in harness," etc. How far each went would depend on both their personality and how many adventurous services they offer. The others? You could probably talk Boss Blaster into "how to handle a crush injury" because he crawls under cars with other people. Cas is going to ask about how to handle gunshot trauma, and the basics of that are lifesaving things that most people can learn -- cops and soldiers often carry a hyperlight kit for that. I could see Cas and Boss Blaster getting Molly to offer that training to everyone who wants it. But it's advanced enough that it needs to be voluntary.
>> And it wouldn't hurt to start Hali on Bom Bom Bunny level emergency skills. <<
Cas has probably started her on the Bom Bom Bunny stuff like keeping still or screaming. She's not quite old enough for run like a rabbit yet.
I do have in mind a scene for Simon teaching Dairinne falling skills, and asking Cas if Hali wants to play.
Re: Thoughts
Date: 2021-06-19 10:06 pm (UTC)The bare minimum I prefer to to teach people is "Call 911 and tell them your address." Adding type of emergency is a bonus.
Sometimes if a person is interested, other stuff can be added. Ditto if there is a medical reason (like a preexisting medical condition.) Or in this context, gang warfare...
[Disclamer: I my life, I'm specifiacally teaching communication skills, for phone calls and classes and such. I am not directly teaching first aid...but maybe I should look into qualifying for that.]
Personally, I would consider "stop bleeding" to be part of the basic first aid training, like what the Red Cross offers over here. I'd suggest RC-certified level training, and (if possible) pocket or car first aid kit. Be sure to stock trauma dressings...or menstrual pads.
Anyone who doesn't want the full lesson...well if they're willing, a three minute talk with Molly on "If heavy bleeding, stop heavy bleeding, and you do that by xyz," is better than nothing.
Also, they are in a functional society that has access to Emergency Services - so they can reasonably expect to handover complex problems relatively quickly. Or have someone talk them through it on the phone.
Re: Thoughts
Date: 2021-06-20 10:23 am (UTC)Sensible.
>> The bare minimum I prefer to to teach people is "Call 911 and tell them your address." Adding type of emergency is a bonus.
Sometimes if a person is interested, other stuff can be added. Ditto if there is a medical reason (like a preexisting medical condition.) Or in this context, gang warfare... <<
One thing L-America fails to do in many cases is discuss the variety of jobs available in an emergency.
* Stay out of the way is always a viable choice. If you don't know what to do, or the situation freaks you out, etc. then you can help by leaving or sitting down somewhere quiet. Then responders don't have to worry about you.
* Phone Guy is another job. Someone needs to call for help, describe the situation, and stay on the line until responders arrive. Preferably, this should be someone who gives good phone.
* Scene Assessment / Management is important, especially in complicated situations. You need to make sure nobody else gets hurt and nothing explodes.
So applying first aid is only one of multiple options.
>> [Disclamer: I my life, I'm specifiacally teaching communication skills, for phone calls and classes and such. I am not directly teaching first aid...but maybe I should look into qualifying for that.] <<
First aid would be an excellent addition to your skillset -- especially as people may ask you about health issues.
There are scripts for practicing how to report different types of emergency.
>>Personally, I would consider "stop bleeding" to be part of the basic first aid training, like what the Red Cross offers over here.<<
Well, there are different levels of bleeding, and different levels of detail depending on the class. "Hole big enough to stuff a sweatshirt in" is not covered below advanced level, where you get into things like occlusive bandages and how to stop bleeding in places you can't tourniquet. The basic outline is direct pressure, pressure points, and tourniquet; but they often don't go into a lot of detail about which and how.
>> I'd suggest RC-certified level training, and (if possible) pocket or car first aid kit. <<
Cas has an everyday carry kit. He uses it several times a day. But it's for small injuries, because people who work with their hands will ding themselves pretty often. He needs a considerably larger one.
>> Be sure to stock trauma dressings...or menstrual pads.<<
Tampons are great for small to medium bullet wounds.
There are hyperlight trauma kits suited to everyday carry. The training that comes with those is focused on heavy bleeding, like glass injuries or gunshot wounds. That'd be the quickest boost for Cas right now. But I think he might start considering EMT training.
>> Anyone who doesn't want the full lesson...well if they're willing, a three minute talk with Molly on "If heavy bleeding, stop heavy bleeding, and you do that by xyz," is better than nothing. <<
True, but see above re: different tasks. So far, people have been ambushing groups, not individuals. Hence why Cas got shoved behind a van so the gang's fighters could protect the noncombatant. He was only activated once someone got injured and his patcher role became relevant.
>> Also, they are in a functional society that has access to Emergency Services - so they can reasonably expect to handover complex problems relatively quickly. Or have someone talk them through it on the phone. <<
Truer there than here. However, they're in a shitty neighborhood, so response time is slower than downtown.
Re: Thoughts
Date: 2021-06-20 02:53 pm (UTC)My main goal with the "how to call 911" talks is to hopefully have at least one person per household who can call for help. Fancier stuff comes later.
Maybe we should do that as a drill, though, once we are back in-person.
"Okay everyone! Fake me is unconscious on the floor! What do you do now?"
Would be useful, especially as there are often enough people to have / require different jobs - the person(s) flagging down the paramedics and holding doors will need different skills than the people watching the kids or calling it in.
>>First aid would be an excellent addition to your skillset -- especially as people may ask you about health issues.<<
Main problem with my group is language barriers. If I were trained as an instructor, I could train people who otherwise can't take classes.
>>There are scripts for practicing how to report different types of emergency.<<
The most basic: "[address], [emergency]."
I've also had people listen to 911 calls / watch video reenactments - to familiarize them with how the dispatcher will talk and how the process works.
>>The basic outline is direct pressure, pressure points, and tourniquet; but they often don't go into a lot of detail about which and how.<<
Direct pressure is about what I'd expect. (If there are thorax injuries affecting the lungs or guts, there are other things to do, but always, always ALWAYS stop the bleeding first, otherwise you'll be doctoring a corpse.) That's what I know with my basic training...
But yeah, I'd start freaking out a bit if organs were clearly visible. (Even more so if injuries rendered someone Ambiguously Humanoid...)
>>Cas has an everyday carry kit. He uses it several times a day. <<
I have a little one, mostly for small things, but it's also got an EpiPen, cpr mask and gloves. And I'm female, so I usually keep at least one menstrual pad on hand (Though I've never had to improvise a bandage.)
>>True, but see above re: different tasks. So far, people have been ambushing groups, not individuals. <<
Hmmm...cross train enough that everyone knows what jobs need to be done, so they know when to move out of the way or facilitate as needed? (Could be as basic as 'If not busy, be sure Cas has enough supplies' or 'if the person on the phone says to shudup so they can hear better /do it/.)
>>Truer there than here. However, they're in a shitty neighborhood, so response time is slower than downtown.<<
I'm looking more at the difference between "professional ambulance will show up when called in [even if not instantly]" and "so, we have to keep some dude alive for three days with scrounged equipment, no formal training, and little/no hope of professionals actually showing up."
As opposed to the difference between rapid response and more sluggish response by neighborhod, but an ambulance /will/ get there...
Re: Thoughts
Date: 2021-06-21 10:44 am (UTC)Sensible.
>> Maybe we should do that as a drill, though, once we are back in-person.
"Okay everyone! Fake me is unconscious on the floor! What do you do now?"<<
Good idea.
>>Would be useful, especially as there are often enough people to have / require different jobs - the person(s) flagging down the paramedics and holding doors will need different skills than the people watching the kids or calling it in.<<
Exactly. An important thing is to encourage people to think about their strengths and weaknesses, then choose roles accordingly. Refugees know how to do this, but may not think of it as such in a new setting. And things change. The youngest person is often the best speaker, but that's not who is normally in charge.
>>Main problem with my group is language barriers. If I were trained as an instructor, I could train people who otherwise can't take classes.<<
In that case, go for basic first aid plus CPR and something like Stop the Bleed. That's the most-used stuff and the two best ways to save a life with minimal skills and supplies. Ask if there are programs to subsidize instructor training given that your language fluency will give access to an otherwise hard-to-reach population.
The most basic: "[address], [emergency]."
>>I've also had people listen to 911 calls / watch video reenactments - to familiarize them with how the dispatcher will talk and how the process works.<<
That's a good idea. If you get a chance to do more, get a list of questions the dispatchers commonly ask. Because understanding always exceeds production, it's easier for people to respond usefully if they have already heard sample conversations.
>> Direct pressure is about what I'd expect. (If there are thorax injuries affecting the lungs or guts, there are other things to do, but always, always ALWAYS stop the bleeding first, otherwise you'll be doctoring a corpse.) That's what I know with my basic training... <<
That and airway. No airway, no patient. I don't really agree with the recent suggestion to start CPR without checking the airway first, because if it's blocked, breaths and compressions will do fuckall good.
>> But yeah, I'd start freaking out a bit if organs were clearly visible. (Even more so if injuries rendered someone Ambiguously Humanoid...) <<
By the time you get to "That looks like a thumb, so the elbow is probably up here somewhere," most people are chucking instead of helping. :/
>>I have a little one, mostly for small things, but it's also got an EpiPen, cpr mask and gloves. And I'm female, so I usually keep at least one menstrual pad on hand (Though I've never had to improvise a bandage.) <<
Sounds good.
I'm sure Cas will be hustling Molly for advice on what to put in an EDC kit. If I remember right, her hip kit includes EMT scissors and a knife that Shiv made.
>> Hmmm...cross train enough that everyone knows what jobs need to be done, so they know when to move out of the way or facilitate as needed? (Could be as basic as 'If not busy, be sure Cas has enough supplies' or 'if the person on the phone says to shudup so they can hear better /do it/.) <<
Pretty much. You need to teach teamwork to cover the things an individual can't or won't do.
>>I'm looking more at the difference between "professional ambulance will show up when called in [even if not instantly]" and "so, we have to keep some dude alive for three days with scrounged equipment, no formal training, and little/no hope of professionals actually showing up."
As opposed to the difference between rapid response and more sluggish response by neighborhod, but an ambulance /will/ get there...<<
For many minor to moderate injuries, that difference between wilderness and civilization matters.
For things like a heart attack or heavy bleeding, the 5-minute response in a good neighborhood vs. a 15-minute response in a bad neighborhood or a 30-minute response in rural outskirts makes the difference. And there are places where the response time is measured in hours just because some western states are big and mostly empty. *chuckle* Which is why the Iron Horses push for first aid training, so they were able to help Kenzie.
First aid actually has two applications. One is for fixing minor stuff that doesn't need professional help. The other is buying time to reach professional help. The amount of training and quality of supplies determines how much time someone can buy.
Of course, Cas has ulterior resources. The soul-gripping trick he pulled is actually real, he's just better at it than most folks.
Re: Thoughts
Date: 2021-06-21 01:58 pm (UTC)Ideally, I'd like everyone to be capable of making the call, even if that is the only English they know.
Other tricks:
- For some emergencies you might be able to recruit a bystander, neighbor, etc to make the call.
- If in a large enough group, you can sort by skillset. Or you might be able to /combine/ skillsets like tinkertoys - think a semi-billingual person interpreting and a local monoglot making the call and acting as moral support. Or if the kid has to make the call, have an adult there for moral support, even if the adult can't help with the call.
If an emergency happened /during class/, some other things to consider:
- How to communicate across different languages? (Usually we'd expect at least three languages to be in play at once.)
- How to recruit help? (There are fluent English speakers in the building, so being able to convey "Help emergency!" is important.)
- How to convey / follow directions, like "Get an AED / First Aid Kit," or "Open the [locked] door for the paramedics."
- And it might be useful for someone to keep the kids out of the way / relocate them to a different room.
>>...given that your language fluency will give access to an otherwise hard-to-reach population.<<
I can converse in Spanish and ASL, but am not good enough to run a class entirely in either language. And there are other languages than those two in play.
Likely what would happen is we'd need a teacher and an interpreter. (Or multiple interpreters, given multiple languages.)
Apparently, taking interpreters to an already set up class would be delaying / distracting, so you'd need a separate class...and hiring an instructor costs $ that we dont have.
And yeah, translating two languages makes everything take three times longer than normal...and then everyone spends 2/3ds of /that/ listening to language output that makes no sense to them.
>>The amount of training and quality of supplies determines how much time someone can buy.<<
For whatever reason, "Do I have backup, or is it all down to me?" is cutting ahead of "How long does it take help to get here?" in my mind.
Sooner is better than later.
I guess for a lot of things (that usually technically aren't emergencies), I'm used to "DIY or it don't get done," (at least not to a workable quality or in a decent timeframe).
Ugh, life/responsibility is/are exhausting.