“The guy that everyone came here to see,” Matt breathed. “I really feel like I got one foot in the fuckin’ grave, guys. How about you do some paramedic shit here?”
“Right!” the medic barked. “Tell me what happened.”
“My heart is beating too fast,” Matt told him.
“It’s two hundred and twenty-eight the last I checked,” Greg put in.
“Right,” Matt said. “And I can’t breathe very well, and my chest feels like a fat chick is sitting on it.”
“How long has this been going on?”
“Pretty much since the show started, but it’s been getting worse the whole time. When I came back in for the encore break is when I actually took my pulse and found out how fuckin’ fast it was going.”
The medic’s eyes widened. “You mean ... you knew your heart was doing this and you still went back out for the encore?”
“The fuckin’ show must go on,” Matt told him. “Those are words I live by.”
“Jesus Christ,” the medic said, appalled respect showing in his eyes. He shrugged this off and resumed his assessment. “Has this ever happened to you before?”
“Never,” Matt said.
“Any drugs tonight?”
“Cocaine about eight hours ago,” Matt said. “Other than that, nothing. I always perform sober.”
“I heard that about you,” the medic said with a nod. He turned to his partner. “Get him on the monitor and get me a blood pressure. Let’s see what we’re dealing with here.”
“Right,” she said.
It took her a few minutes to apply the heart monitor. He was so sweaty that the little sticker electrodes kept falling off. Finally, the medic opened up a couple of alcohol prep packages and wiped his skin down on his chest. That let them stick long enough for him to get a good reading.
“SVT at two-twenty,” he said. “Let’s get that BP, Lisa.”
“Working on it,” she said, as she put a cuff around his arm.
“What’s SVT?” Matt asked.
“Supraventricular tachycardia,” the medic told him. “The electrical system of your heart is in a feedback loop and triggering the beats too quickly. You heart doesn’t have time to fill with blood between beats. It’s a very inefficient way to run things.”
“I can feel that,” Matt said. “What causes it?”
“Sometimes it just happens,” the medic said. “In your case, however, I’d have to guess the cocaine had something to do with it, particularly if you use the shit a lot.”
“I use the shit a lot,” Matt assured him.
“Well ... this is the consequence of that,” the medic said. He turned to his partner. “How we looking?”
She let the air out of the blood pressure cuff and shook her head. “Sixty-four over thirty,” she said. “I checked it twice.”
The medic nodded slowly. “I see,” he said.
“What do you see?” Matt asked. “That’s a pretty fucked up blood pressure, right?”
“Pretty fucked up,” the medic agreed. “I need to get you out of that rhythm right away or you might die.”
“Well fucking do it then!” Matt barked.
“I will,” the medic said, “but ... well ... I only have one way of doing it.”
“And that is?” Matt asked.
“I have to do what’s called synchronized cardioversion.”
“I don’t care what it’s called, just fucking do it.”
“It means I have to deliver electricity to your heart to reset it,” the medic explained.
Matt looked up at him. “Deliver electricity?” he asked. “You mean you’re going to fucking shock me with those paddles?”
“Yes,” the medic said.
“While I’m fucking awake?”
“Sometimes we start an IV and sedate a patient before doing that,” the medic said, “but you’re too unstable. We can’t wait. I have to do it now.”
Matt took a nibble of his bottom lip. “Is it going to hurt?” he asked.
“Yes,” the medic said. “It is extremely painful, but it should get you back in a rhythm that is conducive to life.”
Matt took another breath. “All right,” he said. “Fucking do it! Let’s get this shit over with.”
“All right,” the medic said, pulling his heart monitor a little closer and then opening a zipper pocket in its case. He pulled out a tube of what looked like lube. It wasn’t lube. Matt could plainly read the words, Conducting Gel on the side of it. That was when things really started to get real for him.
This motherfucker is actually going to shock me with those paddles, his mind screamed at him. While I’m awake! What the fuck?
The medic pulled the two paddles from the top of the monitor. Each was rectangular in shape, with rounded corners, the business ends a smooth expanse of silver metal about five inches by four in size. The handle parts were white and each had a big red button right where the medic’s thumb would rest. The handles were attached to the monitor by lengths of white stretch cord like that on a telephone handle. The medic opened the top of the Conducting Gel and, instead of squirting it onto the silver surfaces and rubbing them together like seen on a hundred medical dramas, he squirted some directly onto Matt’s chest, one blob just above his left nipple, the other on his flank, just below and to the right of his right nipple. He then put the paddles in those spots. The metal was cold against his skin. It felt dangerous. He squished the paddles around a bit, spreading the Conducting Gel around, and then removed them, setting them down on the floor next to him.
“Why didn’t you do the rubbing thing like on TV?” Matt had to ask, though he was as terrified right now as he’d ever been in his life.
“Because real life is not like TV,” the medic said. “That scratches the surfaces of the paddles and makes the electricity arc in the scratches. You can burn though someone’s skin if the arc is too narrow. Besides, it’s easier to just squirt the gel onto the patient.”
“Makes sense,” Matt said with a nod.
“You ready for this, my friend?” the medic asked him.
“Yeah,” Matt said. “Let’s do it.”
They did it. The medic flipped a few switches on the monitor and then pushed a button. A high-pitched whine, similar to a camera flash charging, filled the air, getting louder until it shut off.
“Charged!” the medic said, picking up the paddles again. “Everyone get clear.”
Everyone backed off a ridiculous amount. Matt wished he could do the same.
The medic put the paddles to his chest and flank again. They were a little warmer now. This did not make him feel better.
“Okay, we’re going to do this. Hang tight.” He looked up and down Matt’s body. “Cardioverting now!” he barked. “I’m clear, everyone clear. Here we go!”
Matt saw his thumbs push down on the buttons. For a moment, nothing happened and he had time to think that maybe the fucking machine had malfunctioned. And then the most incredible, intense pain he had ever felt or even imagined came slamming into him. It was centered between the two paddles, but it erupted outward from there to his entire physical being, from the top of his head all the way down to his toes. He was vaguely aware that he screamed like a little fucking girl. He saw that smoke was actually coming up from his chest and he could smell burned flesh.
“Fuck me!” he yelled as the pain eased off. He looked to his right, at the medic’s monitor, with its green line going up and down and showing the state of his heart. He could see a big, disorganized jumble on the right side of the screen, where the shock had been delivered only a second or so ago. On the left side of the screen, however, which was current time, the green line was flat as a pancake.
I’m fucking flat lining! his mind screamed at him. That motherfucker just killed my ass!
As if to lend credence to this, Matt felt the chest pain swelling up in him, overriding the fading pain of the electrical shock, making him feel as if it was going to swallow him whole. And he could not take in a breath, despite the fact that he desperately needed to. He felt his consciousness starting to slide downward. I’m living the last fucking seconds of my life, right here and right now.