Pulse(72)

‘I can feel something,’ he said. ‘Pressure.’

That was a very good sign.

‘Do you need anything for the pain?’ I asked him.

‘Just about OK at the moment,’ he replied. ‘Thanks, doc.’

He looked up at me and I looked back down at him.

The paramedics had collected a scoop stretcher from their vehicle and they started sliding it under him. The two-piece construction of the stretcher allowed it to be slid in from each side before being joined together, thus reducing the amount the patient had to be moved unsupported.

I turned to one of the paramedics.

‘Give him some supplementary oxygen at five litres per minute,’ I said. Added oxygen in his system would aid any recovery. ‘Or Entonox if he needs it.’ Entonox was a fifty-fifty mix of nitrous oxide and oxygen – gas and air – for relief of acute pain. Ask any mother.

‘I’ll be back in a sec.’

The horses still in the race galloped past the fence on their second circuit as I went back to Ellie Lowe. The second ambulance crew were helping her onto their stretcher.

‘You OK, Ellie?’ I asked.

‘Will be,’ she said. ‘And I managed to pull my boot off.’

Amazed, I looked down at her ankle. ‘Didn’t it hurt?’

‘Like bloody murder,’ she said with a laugh. ‘But not as much as cutting it off would have hurt my bank balance.’

She’d do, I thought. Jockeys were clearly made of stern stuff, male or female.

‘Take her to the medical room,’ I said to the paramedics. ‘We’ll arrange onward transportation from there.’ I turned back to Ellie. ‘I’ll leave you with these guys now, if that’s OK. I need to get back.’

She nodded. ‘It’s Dick McGee, isn’t it? How’s he doing?’

‘Not great,’ I said.

‘Is he paralysed?’

It was the one thing that frightened every jockey.

‘I don’t think so. It may be too early to tell but I’m hopeful he’s just jarred his back. But we can’t take any risks.’

She nodded and was carried away towards the waiting ambulance.

‘Two fallers, fence after the water,’ said the spotter into my ear. ‘One jockey still down. Doc three, are you available?’

‘Doc three on my way,’ I heard Jack Otley reply over the radio. He would have been stationed at the start and then have moved to the last fence.

I, meanwhile, went back over to Dick McGee, who was being strapped to the scoop ready to be lifted into the ambulance, which had been driven onto the track close by. In addition he was now wearing a mask attached to a portable oxygen tank.

‘You OK, Dick?’ I asked.

‘What do you think?’ he replied, his voice somewhat muffled by the mask.

I considered it a good indicator that he was still able to engage me in his usual banter. If there had been a highly critical trauma to his spinal column, such as a complete break, I might have expected him to have had difficulty breathing let alone talking.

‘How about the air ambulance?’ one of the paramedics said.

Big-call time.

I put my hands onto the toe-ends of Dick’s lightweight riding boots.

‘Dick,’ I said. ‘Wiggle your toes for me.’

I could feel the slightest of movements through the wafer-thin leather.

‘No need,’ I said to the paramedic. ‘There’s movement. If it becomes necessary we’ll transfer him to Gloucestershire Royal. They have a spinal injury assessment unit, and it would take longer to get the air ambulance up here than to go by road.’

I would have called the air ambulance if I’d thought his spinal column was severed or for a major head injury. He would then have had to go to Bristol.

‘Faller, second-last,’ said the spotter into my ear. ‘Jockey down. Any doctor available?’

There was no reply.

‘Can you cope here now?’ I asked the paramedics.

‘Sure.’

‘Take him to the jockeys’ medical room for further assessment. Check his blood pressure and call me immediately on the radio if he deteriorates.’

‘Will do.’

‘Doc two. On my way,’ I said into the radio as I ran back to the Land Rover. It wasn’t ideal, I’d have liked to remain with Dick McGee, even travelled with him all the way to hospital if that was required, but it would leave us short-handed.

I jumped into the Land Rover.

‘Second-last fence,’ I said to the driver. ‘Quick as you can.’

We set off at breakneck speed along the vehicle track.

‘Doc two to medical room,’ I said into the radio as we bounded along.

‘Medical room. Go ahead.’

I gave the two nurses there a very brief account of both Ellie Lowe’s and Dick McGee’s condition and that both were on their way to them for further assessment.

‘Doc one here,’ Adrian said over the radio. ‘On my way back to the medical room now.’

I arrived at the second-last fence and was quickly out of the Land Rover and running.

The jockey who was down was being tended to by two paramedics from one of the remaining ambulances. I joined them.

‘Jason Conway,’ one of the paramedics said to me as I approached. ‘Claims he’s all right but he can’t stand up properly.’