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Another little Love Letters short here - have you missed these guys? I sure have! Hope you'll like this, and hope you'll leave some feedback, too!

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A little red light began to flash in synch to a small buzz, bringing my eyes up from the chart I'd been checking on the computer screen. A quick glance on the panel told me that it was the patient call on Number 4, specifically, bed 2. I cringed a little as I recognized the source. Bed number 2 was currently occupied by an especially obese wolverine with bad knees and plenty of use for the bedpan. This was the third call tonight, and with six more hours of the shift left, and with Zolpidem not working, this was going to be interesting.

"Your turn," Lydia, my colleague, spoke all so innocently, while I zeroed the alarm with a flick of a button beneath the blinking light.

"I know, I know," I grumbled, getting up from my wheeled office chair. My clog-like plastic shoes made gentle pats on the floor as I walked, using the special unhurried gait that signified the night shift so well.

You weren't supposed to hurry, or make much of a noise. There were furs on gurneys, trying to sleep, after all. Someone was snoring, like they always did. I tiptoed past that gurney especially, and then slipped into the dimly lit Examination Area Number 4, which currently housed three patients...the wolverine, an old woman with an UTI, and a teen wolf who had been smacked around during football practice and had been deemed to need to stay overnight for neuro observation because of possible concussion. The wolverine's bed was closest to the door, too, hidden by one of the curtains.

I took a gentle hold of the curtain and pulled on it slowly so as not to make a clatter, and put on a therapeutic smile.

"And how can I help you, Mister Powers?"

Wild eyes looked back to me, the obese wolverine in a white gown, looking at me with huge eyes, his flabby paw still holding the nurse call button and punching on it.

"I think that guy needs some help!" the wolverine yelped, pointing towards his other curtain...the one between his bed and the footballer.

"Hmm?" my floppy ears perked a little, curious as I was, and then I stepped over, past the wolverine's bed into the next niche formed by the curtains.

"He made some weird sounds and then stopped making any noise altogether!" the wheezing wolverine called behind me.

It was dark in the cubicle, so I stepped over to turn on the light above the bed, with a flick of a switch on the panel by the bed...and immediately got a stop. The wolf was lying prone, head flopped to the side, ears down, tongue hanging out of his muzzle...and eyes open, unfocused, and with large, black pupils.

"Shit!" I gasped.

"Oh Jesus Christ, oh Lord," the wolverine was muttering behind the curtain, surely having heard what I said.

I smacked the infamous red button on the panel by the bed, and already heard the alarm going off out in the hallway, as my paws flew into fast, controlled, professional action, honed by practice, simulations, and having faced this same situation several times over the years. There was no room for panic. There was no time for hesitation.

"Clear airways," I told myself, as I grabbed the wolf's pillows and threw them onto the floor, to get his head down flat. I lifted the young wolf's chin with a careful movement, and at the same time my fingertips felt for he hopeful beat of a pulse, which I knew was not likely to be found there...and felt nothing.

I placed my paw flat over the wolf's still chest, locked my fingers together, and let my body rock up and down as I established the rhythm.

"Staying alive, staying alive..ah ah ah ah ah staying alive..."

That's what they told us in the latest round of refresher courses on CPR. You should think about that song from Saturday Night Fever, to get the rhythm right.

"Ah hah ha ha hah staying alive..."

What a fucking irony.

The proper lights in the ceiling came up, causing me to squint, briefly, as I heard rapid pawsteps, the door banging open, furs coming in quickly.

"Oh damn...."

Nurse Manager Carol was the first in, hauling the crash cart which was always at ready in the corridor. She was pulling on gloves even as she spoke.

"Unwitnessed arrest, I think he's been down for less than a minute," I replied, already a bit breathless from the strenuous activity of pounding the wolf's chest.

"Oh Jesus, Oh Lord, oh good grief, poor boy..." the wolverine muttered still.

She pulled the cart close and grabbed the plastic-wrapped Ambu bag from the little basket by the Lifepak on top of the cart and fixed it to the wall O2 in no time. Just as she stepped over to the head of the bed and placed the mask over the wolf's face, I stopped the compressions, and while she pumped air into the wolf's lungs, I used the two seconds needed to pull open the wolf's gown and expose his chest. I returned my paws to their previous position and continued the compressions.

"Start prepping?" Lydia, the lion nurse, asked as she slipped past the bed to open the top shelf of the cart.

"Go," Carol ordered, already in position to oversee this operation.

Lydia wasted no time as she pulled out the battery-powered shears and applied them to the wolf's chest, first to the top right side. The loud buzz filled my ears, as well as the little creaks the bed made, and the hiss of oxygen from the mask Carol held onto the wolf's muzzle. I gave him a quick glance...the unseeing eyes and the boyish face looking back to me. So young. Nineteen years old. This wasn't meant to be his time.

"What do we got?" the dynamic, gruff voice of Dr. Shelby called, already from the doorway.

"Unwitnessed arrest, down for maybe a minute before CPR started, we're prepping for paddles," I called back.

The doctor appeared by the bed, white-coated, wearing screen scrubs underneath, fuelled with adrenaline as he snapped on gloves and then took a position by the head of the bed.

"Got a weak carotid," he said, feeling up the wolf's neck.

I kept pounding the wolf's chest, even with Lydia's buzzing cutters moving only inches from my own paws.

Dr. Shelby picked up the wolf's chart.

"Came in with a concussion and mild bruising...stayed overnight for neuro observation, all checked clear..."

"Chest trauma?" Carol suggested.

A foam bottle hissed when Lydia sprayed the substance onto the new bald patches on the wolf's chest, and she applied the shears again, this time taking in whatever was left.

The clock was ticking.

"It says on the chart that he was tackled..." Dr. Shelby read out.

Phewwwfff. Pheewwwwff. More breaths.

"Attaching pads," Lydia called out.

This was the moment we waited for. She slapped on the white pads, attached with cables onto the Lifepak on top of the cart. Whatever would appear on screen would tell us if the boy would stand a chance. The computerized brain began to work as soon as the cables were in, and I knew that all of us were looking at the monitor, even if all of us were busy...compressions, artificial breathing, attaching a canula onto the wolf's wrist...applying a blood pressure cuff...

"V-fib," Dr. Shelby declared, the screen giving an alarm, "charging 200 joules...CLEAR!"

We all stepped back when he pushed the button on the panel on the Lifepak, causing the wolf's body to do the expected jerking you see on TV. It's not much. You can see it. They won't flail. They won't convulse. It's just a small jerk.

"Still V-fib," Dr. Shelby declared after looking at the monitor.

"Resuming CPR", Carol called out, "start the clock."

I went back to pounding is chest while Carol wielded the mask again. I knew we would have to swap places too. I was already sweating. The numbers on the Lifepak screen were counting down now...counting down the boy's life, as his brain went closer and closer towards the point of no return.

"Get epi and amiodarone ready," Dr. Shelby told Lydia while he stood by the wolf, hovering over him, looking him all over with that medical gaze that we had to trust.

"Want some blood gasses?" Carol asked.

"I don't know," the doctor frowned, "there's something..."

The clock read 1:20 on the screen when I felt the give under my palm. It was only a brief sensation, but the accompanying noise told me more than enough.

"He just lost a rib," I told them, matter-of-fact.

"Keep going," Dr. Shelby grumbled.

I continued the compressions, well knowing that I'd just broken a rib with my pounding of his chest. We knew it was a very possible complication, and I'd broken my share during my career, but it was never fun. Told us how dangerous this business was. How desperate we were.

I held compressions so that Carol could ventilate, let my paws relax momentarily, rolled my shoulders and tried to get the tension out...and I felt something under my palm...something...something I felt...

I resumed the compressions automatically, and spoke in a breathless voice.

"I think he's got another broken rib...I felt something..." I spoke, "could be hemo or pneumo..."

The doctor sprung into action, moving by me, gloved paws feeling up the wolf's chest while I kept pumping...the slight, squishy give under my paws being felt with every compression.

"Hmmm..." his paws moved over to the wolf's neck...then to his stethoscope, which he popped into his ears, "hold compressions. Carol, ventilate."

He only listened for two seconds, and when he removed the headpiece of the stethoscope from the wolf's chest, I went back to compressions.

"Tension pneumo," he said, "the jugular's mildly distended but there's no breath sounds on the left side. The rib must've nicked the lung. We have to decompress. Give me a 16 gauge needle and a 10 cc syringe!"

The items were handed over quickly, and within ten seconds of the doctor's rapid diagnosis, he plunged a needle into the wolf's chest. A sudden hiss of air could be heard, even if the bed shook.

"There we go," the doctor declared, "Lydia, charge 200."

The nurse moved into action.

"Charging...clear..."

I almost staggered back, breathless from the action.

The wolf jerked.

The Lifepak beeped loudly.

And again.

And again.

"Looks like we've got sinus bradycardia," Dr. Shelby declared.

"I've got a weak pulse," Carol said, paw on the wolf's neck.

My arms ached.

"Great work, everyone," Dr. Shelby spoke gruffly, "Lydia, let's alert the ICU, get the anaesthetist down here and prep for intubation. We have to get a chest tube on him and start on therapeutic hypothermia."

"I'll get the cart," I wheezed, sounding almost like the wolverine by now.

"Good job, Speckle," the doctor smiled.

*

"Hey you!"

I was having my second bleary-eyed coffee on the diner opposite to the hospital, when the familiar voice filled my ears as much as it filled my heart with special warmth.

My lion was wearing his uniform, no helmet or the fireproofed jacket, but he definitely cut a pretty figure in his city emergency services garb, however. He was all smiles and looked as handsome as ever as he went by the counter to make a quick order, before he sauntered into our regular booth by the windows and slipped onto the seat opposite to me. I felt his tail tickle my ankles as soon as he was seated.

"Hey," he grinned broadly, big paws flat on the table, generally looking so very cheerful, and hopefully a part of it was caused by me as much as the prospect of coffee and doughnuts...his regular order.

"Hi," I smiled softly, giving him some coffee-scented breath, too.

"How're you?" Daniel questioned softly. "Good shift?"

"Long," I rumbled.

"You look a bit like it, too," he said.

"Thanks," I chuckled dryly.

His tailtip tickled my ankles again.

"Tough job?"

"Did some CPR on a 19-year-old kid," I replied, "my shoulders are killing me."

His nosepad cringed.

"Bad?"

"Got him back," I said, "he was down maybe a minute before we started CPR. About three before he came back. We packed him cold and sent him upstairs."

Daniel rubbed his paws together.

"Sounds like the kid's got a good chance."

I nodded tiredly.

"Pretty good, yeah."

"Three minutes," he said. "Strange to think how...how little it is, in the end. The difference between life and death."

"Little miracles happen every day," I replied.

He held out his paw and brushed it against my own tired, splayed fingers.

"Even by these paws, sometimes," he smiled gently.

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Thanks for reading! Hope you had a fine read, and hope you'll leave me some feedback!