The ambulance sways as it speeds through the night, lights flashing across the interior.
She lies motionless on the stretcher, skin pale, eyes closed.
โNo pulse.โ
The paramedic immediately positions his hands at the center of her chestโone over the other, fingers interlaced. Arms straight. Shoulders locked above her sternum.
Compressions begin.
Hard. Fast. Precise.
โOne, two, three, fourโฆโ
Her body moves rhythmically beneath each push, the force deliberateโdeep enough to circulate blood, controlled enough to maintain pace.
โKeep it at 100โ120.โ
The count continues, steady, relentless. Sweat forms despite the cold air. The ambulance jolts slightly with a turn, but his hands never lose position.
โSwitch in ten seconds.โ
Another paramedic moves into position.
โโฆeight, nine, tenโswitch.โ
Seamless. Hands replace hands without losing rhythm.
Compressions continue.
No pause. No hesitation.
Just the sound of counting, the rise and fall forced into her chestโholding on to life, one push at a time.
