Chapter 1: Out Of Breath

Chapter 1: Out of Breath

Megan Turner was used to working under pressure. Fifteen years as a paramedic had trained her body to react without hesitation, her mind to stay calm even when everything around her was falling apart. But as she pulled her ambulance to the side of the empty country road, something felt different. Something was wrong—not with the scene, but with her.

The call had come in about a young woman—Anna Patterson, mid-twenties—who’d collapsed while running along the rural stretch of road. Megan spotted her instantly, a bright neon tank top making her small figure easy to see against the brown, sun-baked landscape. She didn’t waste a second.

Her breath quickened as she grabbed her medical bag and rushed to the runner’s side. Kneeling on the gravel shoulder, Megan immediately checked for a pulse at Anna’s neck. It was weak, thready, almost nonexistent. She could feel the faint flutter beneath her fingertips, as though life was slipping away.

The CPR training kicked in automatically.

Megan placed her interlocked hands at the center of Anna’s chest, just below the sternum, and began compressions. "Stay with me," she murmured. She pressed down hard, her strong arms forcing her weight into each compression, the rhythm coming naturally after years of practice: 100 to 120 beats per minute, enough force to push the chest at least two inches deep.

But as she counted out loud, something shifted inside her own chest. At first, it was just a twinge—an uncomfortable tightness she assumed was from fatigue. She had been on the job for 12 hours, after all, running on little more than adrenaline and coffee. It wasn’t unusual to feel some discomfort after a long day.

Then the twinge turned into pain—sharp and sudden, right beneath her breastbone. She froze for a split second, inhaling deeply to see if it would pass. It didn’t. Instead, the pain spread, radiating out from her chest to her left arm. Megan’s fingers faltered on Anna’s chest, her brain struggling to process what was happening. She knew this feeling—tightness, pressure, pain shooting down her arm.

A heart attack.

Her mind screamed at her to stop, to call for help, but the paramedic in her wouldn’t allow it. Not yet. Not while Anna needed her. Megan clenched her jaw and continued compressions. She knew what the stakes were. The young runner’s chest heaved slightly under Megan’s hands as she pressed, but there was still no breath, no sign of life.

Thirty compressions, then two breaths, she reminded herself, forcing her thoughts back to the procedure. Megan grabbed her mask, sealed it over Anna’s mouth and nose, and breathed for her—two deep breaths, making sure the chest rose. Back to compressions. One, two, three—her arms were moving, but her body was failing.

The pain in her chest became unbearable, like a vise closing around her heart. Each breath she tried to take was shallow, like breathing through a straw. She could feel the sweat running down her back, her forehead damp despite the cool breeze cutting across the open road. Her hand instinctively moved to her chest, pressing against the ache as if she could hold her heart together through sheer force of will.

She ignored the warning signs at first. Nausea. Cold sweats. Lightheadedness. They were symptoms she had seen in her patients a hundred times, but her body refused to acknowledge them. Not now. She had to keep going. One, two, three…

But with each compression, her arms grew weaker, her breaths more labored. The stabbing pain in her chest intensified, like a fist squeezing her heart tighter with each beat. She pressed harder on Anna's sternum, trying to focus on her technique, trying to block out the pain. The runner’s chest barely moved beneath her hands, but Megan kept going, her teeth gritted against the rising tide of agony in her own body.

Suddenly, a wave of dizziness hit her, and the world tilted. Megan’s hands slipped, her vision blurred, and she almost fell forward onto Anna’s body. She caught herself, barely, her fingers trembling as they found their place back on the runner’s chest.

"Come on," she whispered, half to Anna, half to herself. But the pain in her chest was no longer something she could push through. It was crushing her, every breath a struggle. The stabbing sensation had become an overwhelming pressure, spreading to her neck, her jaw, even her back. It wasn’t just her arm now; her entire upper body felt like it was caving in.

Her hand hovered over her radio as she forced out another breath. "Dispatch…" Her voice was weak, shaking, barely audible. “I...need assistance. Paramedic down."

Her heart was failing her, the rhythm that she had trusted for so long spiraling out of control. Each beat felt erratic, as if her heart were skipping over itself, racing and slowing unpredictably. The irony was bitter—performing CPR while her own heart was giving out.

The world dimmed as the pain reached its peak. She could feel herself slipping, collapsing beside Anna. Her hands fell from the runner’s chest, her body giving in at last. As Megan lay there on the hot gravel, her face pressed against the cool earth, she thought of Anna—of the life she was supposed to save. Would anyone come for them?

Looking for RP

23 y/o male looking for an RP partner

Mainly interested in women and nonbinary fellows

Interested in many different aspects of resus and medical

Primarily a doctor/rescuer/caregiver

If you’re interested feel free to DM me :)

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shock-doc-cpr

5 months ago

Heyoo. Commision uwu

A short story showing the tension between two girls on a bar (one of them obsessed with the heart of the other), and some imagination.

Merry christmas to everyone <3

Thank you to @weeman816 .

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shock-doc-cpr

7 months ago

Coppelion episode 7

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shock-doc-cpr

11 months ago

Another evening under the electrodes.

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shock-doc-cpr

1 year ago

@saphicresus @delicious-beats @randomuser1243756-blog @bive-on-resus

And a whole bunch of others who left

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shock-doc-cpr

1 month ago

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shock-doc-cpr

1 month ago

how would you want your Fatal cardiac arrest to happen be played out before time is called

The EMTs rush over to me and start assessing me immediately. They pull my pink shirt up past my breasts exposing my c cup breasts covered by a solid black sports bra. They put a blood pressure cuff on my arm and check my heart with a stethoscope directly on my partially exposed chest. Electrodes are placed around my bra in order to show my heart rate on the monitor.

“She’s gonna crash any second” the man says as my heartbeat shows up on the monitor. “Let’s prepare to breathe for her and get the pa… SHIT! she’s crashing! Starting compressions!” His hands are between my breasts in an instant. The other one, a woman, takes the scissors and snips my bra away then snips my shirt a quarter of the way before she rips it in half to fully expose my chest.

I lay there on the gym floor, next to the stair master, with people standing around me watching this scene unfold quickly. Some are crying with horror while others watch frozen and fascinated. My best friend is crouched down by my feet holding my shins screaming “Kennedy, wake up! Please for the love of God stay with me”

The EMT giving compressions presses down so hard one of my ribs instantly pops and is audible to the crowd. One woman in the crowd lets out a small scream at the noise. I feel blood flowing through me as his hands go deep into my sternum which presses my wiggling heart. The third one holds a plastic mask on my face and squeezes a bag sending plastic tasting air down my throat past my blueing lips. My eyes, partly open still, stare up at him as the woman injects drugs into my arm which get pumped around by the other man’s large hands.

They all stop for a moment to check the monitor and see my heart is in v fib. The woman takes the paddles and places them on my now bare chest, careful not to interfere with the leads to the monitor, and yells “Shocking! Clear!” All hands leave my body including at my legs. My chest jumps slightly and lands back down with a quiet thump. My breasts barely react to the impact. “Shocking again! Clear!” The dose of electricity is higher this time and I land with a louder, more aggressive thump. My breasts visibly move as I hit the ground this time. I hear crying coming from the area of my feet.

Hands are back on my chest, the woman’s this time. They are softer but go even deeper into my chest. Her fingers lightly graze my erect nipple as her fingers reach across my breast as the heels of her palms push on my sternum causing more popping from my ribs. More air is pushed down my throat against my will and more drugs injected into my body as my heart rate stays at zero when they stop to do another pulse check. My head rolls to the side, my mouth partly open, my eyes empty.

“Another round of epi!” Says the woman doing compressions. I feel the burning the medication as it enters my blood stream as the third EMT pushes down on my chest, now bruised and battered. My heart starts to feel a shivering sensation going through it as the monitor reads v fib again. “Shocking at 360! Clear! … No change. Shocking again! Clear!” Each time my whole body contracts and I land dramatically in the ground, breasts bouncing and head rolling sideways.

“Shit....Flatline!”

I hear the continued cries at my feet as someone begs me to stay with her. But the sound is just vibrations going through my ear canal and hitting my brain. Almost meaningless at this point. And I feel no desire to stay. In fact I feel nothing except the physical sensations. My brain has begun to die even more as I am deprived of a self regulated pulse for more than fifteen minutes.

“Let’s check her pupils” suggests the one who has just read the monitor showing I’m in asystole again. The one in charge of the mask removes it from my face and flashes a flashlight in my eyes. “Pupils are blown… we should call it in and get time of death…” another minute or two of compressions go on and nothing else- no mask, no shocks, no drugs, until finally “Time of death 1142 am. Let’s get a sheet over her and call the coroner…”

My friend never lets go of me as she cries begging the medics to keep working, the crowd around me protests their cessation of care, but the medics close my eyes before placing the white sheet over me.

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shock-doc-cpr

9 months ago

Tie me to the bed? Hold a knife to my throat? Pin me down with your sheer bodyweight? Slip a paralytic drug into my coffee? Whatever it takes to make me completely helpless and vulnerable, entirely at your disposal.

And then..... force my little heart to cum for you. Stimulate me against my will, make me wet even though I don't want to be.

Expert little thumb-circles on my clit while your hand is pressed hard over my apex.... Finger-fuck me hard and fast as you hungrily steth my chest... Lick my nipples and caress my tits as you closely monitor my heart on an ecg...straddle my hips and roughly fuck me as you perform deep cpr on my bare chest...

Whatever it takes to force me and my little heart to orgasm under your complete control. Feel my body react to your dominance and make it climax (preferably while your cock's plunged deep inside of me and your hands are round my throat....)

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