The odor in the one hundred year old building was sulfurous. A horrible acrid smell assaulted the nasal passages. It reminded one of death. Adrien climbed the rickety wooden staircase ahead of Thornton. About halfway up the stairs, the 31-year old EMT stopped to catch his breath and wipe the sweat forming on his brow. "Go on," the heavy man gasped, waving an arm forward to Adrien. Once recovered, he continued climbing the staircase.<br/><br/>Meanwhile, Adrien found a woman in her mid 60s lying on the floor of her modest apartment. Black soot stained her lips, smeared various portions of her clothing, and exposed skin. Portraits of people she knew, hung on every wall. Their eyes all seemingly stared down at Mr. Timoshenko as he prepared to assess the woman's condition. The faces all asking,<span style="font-style: italic">'is she going to be OK? Please help grandma.'</span>He checked her breathing, it was faint, but steady. He found a pulse on her radial artery. Again, weak but steady. "Hey! Are you OK!" Adrien yelled at the woman. She was unresponsive. Removing a penlight from his pocket, he opened an eyelid, searching for a reaction from her pupils. The left eye remained undilated, but the right eye dilation proved positive.<br/><br/>Gasping for breath, Thornton Osgood watched Adrien work on the woman. "Whadda ya, got, Adrien?"<br/><br/>"Smoke inhalation," Adrien spoke as he checked her eyes. "Possibly a stroke by the dilation of her pupils. I'll need the litter and O two."<br/><br/>"Fuck," Thornton muttered.<br/><br/>"I'll get one of the cops to help me." Adrien spoke aloud without looking at his partner. He quickly made his way to the hallway.<br/><br/>"Thanks, buddy. I'll look her over while you get the litter." The fat man slowly deposited his weight up on the creaking floor, straining under the pressure of the four hundred and fifty pound EMT.<br/><br/>Adrien returned a few minutes later with the litter and an Officer named, Martin Scanlon. "Thank you, Officer. If you don't mind, I could use your help carrying her back downstairs."<br/><br/>"Yea, yea, no problem doc," Officer Scanlon replied. He removed his cover, scratched his head, while doing a once over on Mr. Osgood. "Boy doc, they let you be an EMT like that?" The officer let a slight giggle loose.<br/><br/>Adrien quickly realized the cop was talking to Thornton, but said nothing. Accustomed to similar comments, Thornton ignored him. The EMTs went about their work. Adrien attached a cannula to the woman's face, wrapping the tubes around the back of her ears and allowing a slight flow of oxygen into her nose. Thornton checked her extremities.<br/><br/>"She has slight swelling and bruising on her left ankle," Thornton addressed the room, "maybe a sprained ankle as well."<br/><br/>The ambulance crew hefted the woman, who weighed all of ninety-eight pounds up onto the litter. After strapping her in and placing blankets over her, Adrien moved to the head. He and Officer Stanson made their way down the staircase, while EMT Osgood slowly descended behind them.<br/><br/>The ambulance rapidly wound its way through the busy streets to Stryder Memorial Hospital on 137th and Stratford.<a class="postlink" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GnkEZcTXu4k">Eleanor Rigby</a>was admitted into the ER while the ambulance crew returned to their vehicle, prepping it for the next call. Adrien had paper work to attend to while Thornton drove.