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Chapter 8 - The Critical Night

Three days after the cast removal, the crisis took a terrifying, unexpected turn.

It was 2:00 AM on a rainy Thursday when the overhead speakers blared the dreaded code: Code Blue, Pediatric ICU, Room 4.

I dropped my paperwork and sprinted down the hallway, my sneakers squeaking against the linoleum. When I burst through the doors of Room 4, Marcus was already on top of the bed, performing rhythmic, shallow chest compressions on Leo’s frail chest.

"What happened?!" I shouted, rushing to the head of the bed to secure the bag-valve-mask.

"Massive pulmonary embolism!" Marcus yelled between compressions, sweat pouring down his forehead. "A clot must have broken loose from the necrotic tissue in his arm and traveled straight to his lungs! SpO2 dropped to 40 in ten seconds!"

"Charge the defibrillator to twenty joules! Clear!" I shouted, placing the paddles onto Leo’s chest.

The electrical current surged through his small body, causing him to arch slightly before falling back limp against the mattress.

Beep... beep... beep...

The monitor flatlined into a continuous, agonizing tone.

"Come on, Leo," I whispered, tears blurring my vision as I slammed my palms down for another round of CPR. "You survived the rot. You survived the dark. You are not dying tonight. Do you hear me? Breathe!"

We fought for four agonizing minutes—minutes that felt like a lifetime. Every nurse in the unit rotated in, trading off chest compressions while I managed his airway, pumping oxygen into his lungs with frantic, desperate energy.

"Push one milligram of epinephrine!" I ordered, my voice cracking.

Marcus slammed the syringe into the IV line.

For a terrifying second, nothing happened. The screen remained a flat, mocking green line.

Then, a faint, erratic electrical impulse flickered across the screen.

Thump... thump-thump...

The sinus rhythm returned, weak and sputtering, but alive.

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"We’ve got a pulse!" Clara cried out, wiping her eyes with the back of her sleeve. "Blood pressure is returning at 70 over 40. He’s coming back!"

I collapsed against the side of the bed, my knees shaking, gasping for air as the adrenaline slowly drained from my system. Leo’s chest rose and fell under the automated ventilator, his face pale as paper, but the fight in him hadn't quit.

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