Further Down the Rabbit Hole

The treatment area was a regular room with a huge door that swung open to allow stretchers wheeled in from the outside. There were oxygen tanks, monitoring machines, defibrillators, weighing scales, medical beds with partitions, loads of medicines in bottles, ampoules, tablets, and syringes neatly placed on an aluminum cabinet. The treatment room is more than adequate to handle emergencies, and Primo jotted them down on his notebook.

"Now, what time did they bring Kyle Readings?"

Betty looked at the ceiling, thinking about the day it happened.

"It was almost noon. He was brought in by paramedics and was placed here in the examining area. He was a tall man, so his feet dangled a little over the examining table. We removed his clothes and checked his vitals."

 Primo wrote everything that Betty was saying.

"Then what?"

Betty sighed. "The man got no vitals."

Primo did not understand the medical terms.