Inner Demons

By Stephen Byrd

Alex Jackson has severe depression and post-traumatic stress disorder. It’s an occupational hazard from being a paramedic. He’s having nightmares, getting irritable with patients and co-workers, and drinking to excess. As he reaches rock bottom, he embarks on a journey to improve his mental health, only to discover that the mental health system isn’t what he thought it would be. He’s in a battle against his inner demons to find the mental and emotional support that he needs before his demons cause him to lose everything.

CONTENT WARNING: Contains graphic depictions of violence, including themes of self-harm. May not be suitable for all readers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Feb 24, 2023
• ISBN: 9781329056374

Book preview

INNER

DEMONS

STEPHEN BYRD



Published by Dreamscape Books, Columbia, Tennessee.

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents and places are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or places is entirely coincidental.

Copyright (C) 2023 by Dreamscape Books. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.

ISBN: 978-1-329-05637-4

Printed in the United States of America

February, 2023

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

CONTENT WARNING

Contains graphic depictions of violence, including themes of self-harm. May not be suitable for all readers.

CHAPTER ONE

Alex sat up in the bed. He was drenched with sweat, his short, brown hair sticking even more to his scalp than usual, and it felt like something was stuck in his throat. Another nightmare. This time, it was a victim of a car accident. He had seen his mother's face on the broken and mangled remains of some poor soul who had lost their life to a drunk driver.

He remembered the accident well. He'd been the first medic on scene, and the twisted, bloodied body of the woman who had been killed was burned into his memory. He couldn't see her face, though. He could never see their true faces. It was always the face of someone he loved.

Laying his head back on the pillow, Alex drew a deep, ragged breath. It was only a nightmare, he thought. He still felt an intense loss, and he hurt as though it had been real. He hugged the pillow beside him, burying his face in it as he started to cry. For a split moment, Alex was thankful that he lived alone and there was nobody to see him crying over a nightmare, like a child afraid of the dark.

But he did cry, deep and sobbing, tears falling like rain onto the pillow. His heart hurt and ached, and he felt an intense loss, as if his mother had really died. He was afraid for her and wanted to call her to make sure she was, in fact, okay. But it was three o'clock in the morning, and surely, she would be sleeping. He didn't want to disturb her at this hour. A phone call now would certainly require an explanation. The embarrassment was too much for him, explaining that he was waking her up to check on her because he had a nightmare.

No, he was a man, and he would get through this. Nobody else needed to know that he was frightened of his own memories. He hugged the pillow tighter and the tears began to slow. He wasn't sure when, but at some point, he fell asleep again.

The next time he woke was with his alarm clock. He still felt rattled by the nightmare, and he couldn't get the horrific image out of his head. He showered and dressed for work, the entire time replaying the incident of the accident in his mind. He thought about what he'd done, things he should have done, and ways he could have performed better. Ultimately, the woman was dead, and nothing he did would have brought her back, but that didn't stop him from doubting himself.

Alex pulled on his work boots and sat on the edge of his bed. He didn't want to go to work today. No doubt there would be more dead bodies. At least the dead didn't whine, he thought. One of his pet peeves was the whiny people who thought they needed an ambulance because they had a toothache or a stubbed toe. There would be no shortage of those today, either.

Arriving at work, Alex met his partner, Zach, in the ambulance bay. The sight of Zach’s messy, black hair and crooked smile shifted Alex into a different mode, one where he could be himself for the most part, but he had to hide the fear and doubt that he felt. Zach was probably the closest friend Alex had, and being around Zach made it easy for him to push his nightmares aside and forget about them for a while.

Their first call came in before they had a chance to do their morning truck inspection. Loud tones sounded through the overhead speakers.

Medic Three, respond. 107 Meyer Road. Meyer Road Cleaners. 48-year-old male, CPR in progress. The dispatcher's voice was calm and professional.

Alex's heart sank. He dreaded working codes the most. There was so much to do, and such a short time to do it in. He almost always came away feeling inadequate, like he should have done more, should have worked harder or longer. He never had a perfect code, where all the drugs were given at just the right time, the airway was secured and stayed secured, compressions were done perfectly, and the patient survived. He never got those codes. His were always train wrecks.

He and Zach jumped in their truck and responded to the call. When they got to the cleaning business, a woman met them in the parking lot and directed them to a side door entrance. Just inside the door, Alex found the man lying on the floor. Two other people were performing CPR. They jumped back as Alex approached with his cardiac monitor and trauma bag.

Zach was right behind him with the AutoPulse. The two worked fervently to get the AutoPulse running, so that it could do mechanical chest compressions for them. Alex attached the cardiac monitor, which showed a straight, flat line when he paused the AutoPulse. When he switched it on again, the monitor showed a rhythmic waveform. Zach was drilling an intraosseous needle into the leg, while Alex inserted an endotracheal tube into the airway. He taped the tube down carefully and attached a ventilation bag. He squeezed slowly, watching the chest rise and fall with each ventilation.

When Zach finished with the drill, they switched places. Zach ventilated, while Alex pushed epinephrine through the intraosseous line. He paused the compressions to check the rhythm again. Still asystole, no electrical activity within the heart. The AutoPulse began its compressions again, and they prepared to move the patient to the stretcher.

As they lifted, something snagged the endotracheal tube, pulling it out.

Fuck! Alex cursed out loud. This kind of mistake was what always happened. Whenever a code was running smoothly, something had to go wrong. Alex grabbed the tube and reinserted it, this time using both a tube holder and twice as much tape as the first time. He noticed a deep purple bruising on the back of the man's neck. Alex knew that this man was not going to survive, despite his best efforts. He continued ventilating as they drove to the hospital, where a doctor pronounced death as soon as they arrived.

As he got back into the ambulance to leave the hospital, Alex realized that out of everything he did, he never looked at the man's face.

#

They returned to the station. Alex was working on typing his report on the laptop, while Zach drove in silence. Finally, Zach asked, Do you think he ever had a chance?

No, Alex replied. He was dead when he hit the ground. Of course, Alex was lying. He had no idea if the man had a chance or not. He actually knew very little about what happened, only that the guy had been working at the cleaners when he suddenly fell to the floor and wasn't breathing. His coworkers had started CPR immediately, Zach and Alex had done everything they could without delay, but he had died anyway. Alex felt like he should have done more, although he knew that there was nothing more that could have been done, and he shared that thought with Zach. He kept his feelings of inadequacy to himself.

They sat quietly in the cab of the ambulance, Alex focused on his documentation while Zach navigated the narrow city streets full of cars. Occasionally, he would slam on the brakes and curse another driver for making a stupid move in traffic. The silence was broken by the tones sounding again.

Medic Three, respond. In the area of 2902 Highway 41 South. Motor vehicle collision involving a motorcycle.

Zach reached to the console and flipped on the lights and siren. The diesel engine whined as he pressed harder on the accelerator, and Alex felt the sway of the vehicle as Zach weaved around the stopping cars. As they approached the scene, the flashing blue and red lights of the police and fire vehicles came into view. Zach navigated past the line of emergency vehicles and parked as close to the crowd of emergency responders as he could.

Alex jumped out of the cab, his gloves already on his hands. Firefighters were strapping a patient to a long spine board. He walked up to them and asked, "What have we