Blood Pooling In Arms Novels & Stories

I swear I can hear him sigh. “We were giving you IV fluids and some liquid nutrition as you were dehydrated and malnourished when you arrived. You were also low on blood and your blood platelets were low, which is probably why your blood isn’t clotting. Here.” He goes to take my arm and I instinctively jerk it back, holding it against my body.

I shouted. One of the medical team finally nodded. One of the team members opened their medical kit and grabbed two needles and a long tube. The medical aid set me up, and blood began to pour into the needle immediately. I watched in horror as her veins were very prominent now. Which only meant that her body didn't have a sufficient blood supply. The other medical aid connected the tubes to Haley's arm, and soon my blood was pooling into her body. I felt a quick moment of relief. She'll be ok. I kept telling myself.

The month was not too big, so it didn't take much effort. 00She walked to the blood collection port, sat on a high stool, and stretched out her arms. Her skinny skin was white and her blood vessels were easy to find, but the blood vessels were all on her arms, so she would still tie her arms with a cuff. After the blood vessels were exposed, and the alcohol swab was rubbed across her small arm, the doctor took the needle and was about to poke it into her skin.

He shook his head as he examined the gunshot wounds, "these shots seem to have been long," "Probably," the husband answered. "Plus," Tye continued, "she's not even bleeding again, so she must have lost a lot of blood. And look," he pointed to the wound on her arm, "the area near the wound is cold and pale. This implies that the injury is severe". He points to the one on her thigh too, "this one is also starting to swell too. You need to bring her to the hospital". Mr Jones and Ellen glanced at each other.

There’s a trail leading around the back, thick and dark, already drying at the edges. I follow it, heart pounding harder the closer I get. A man's there, half-slumped beside the rear tire. He's a big guy. Long legs, broad chest, tattoos crawling up his neck and vanishing beneath a shirt soaked through with blood. One arm is limp, the other twitching slightly like he’s dreaming of a fight he isn’t finished with. My brain clicks into ER mode before I can even think. Femoral artery, probably. That kind of blood loss? He’s got minutes, if that.

"He’s losing volume too fast! The thoracic cavity is filling up! Push the saline! We need to keep his pressure from hitting bottom!" They were pumping clear fluid into his left arm while his actual life was leaking out of the right side of his shirt, soaking through the white linen pads the second medic was pressing down on with both hands. The blood didn't stop. It just kept finding ways through the cracks in their fingers, dripping down onto the pristine white carpet in heavy, steady drops that felt like a countdown clock ticking away his seconds. "Adrian..." My voice was barely a whisper, a tiny, useless sound that was completely swallowed by the frantic chaos of the room.

The blood from his hands had pooled slightly on the floor around where he was lying and it was cold now which meant it had been there for a while. He could feel his ankle pulsing with pain but it was starting to feel slightly further away than it had before which he understood was not a good sign. Things feeling further away when they should hurt was not the body getting better. It was the body running out of resources to keep feeling things properly.

I prayed it was the second. I waited until I felt confident that removing one hand wouldn't cause the blood flow to start up again, then pulled one hand away. I tightened the sling further, ensuring that it would hold his arm firmly in place. I ripped part of my tunic that was sticking out from under the breastplate of my armor off and used it to clean away the blood. It had turned black and sticky in places, but for the most part, it was still fresh, bright red liquid. I smeared it away, trying to get a better look at what had happened.

Why am I so tired? I already slept… didn’t I? My gaze drifts upward until it lands on the IV bag hanging beside the bed. Clear liquid drips steadily through the tube leading to my arm. Drip. Drip. Drip. Each drop disappears into the line, vanishing into my veins. A cold unease settles in my chest. Something about it feels wrong. Very wrong. My fingers twitch weakly against the sheets as I try to lift my arm. But my body refuses to obey.

- You can take it out? "Better not mess with it." He leaned over to get a better look. “Oh, shit! — The boy's left forearm, trapped between the body and the door, was spurting blood. Blood bright red. An arterial hemorrhage. He could bleed to death before help arrive. Mark took off his T-shirt and rolled it up. There were still no sirens. - What are you doing? the woman screamed. - What is wrong? The only way to reach the arm and apply pressure was to get the man back and