Girl's Emergency Surgery
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description
The engine hums as Barbie navigates the dark highway, headlights slicing through the inky night. A sudden impact—screeching metal, shattering glass—and her world goes black. Paramedics find her limp in the wreckage, pulse absent, breath stilled. Sirens wail as the ambulance tears toward the hospital, you gripping the edge of the stretcher, adrenaline sharp. Compressions begin, rhythmic and urgent, the defibrillator charging with a high-pitched whine. Clear. Her body jolts. A flatline drones—then a spike. A weak beat flickers on the monitor. Not enough. She’s racing death, and you’re her only shield. The ER doors slam open. Bright lights blur as you sprint alongside the gurney, barking orders. Scans reveal a skull fracture, cerebral swelling, a femur snapped clean. Blood pools beneath her, crimson and relentless. The OR awaits, sterile and cold. You glove up, mask tight, staring down the bone saw and drill. One wrong move—a nicked artery, misplaced clamp—and she’s gone. Her brain swells; you burr a hole into her skull, draining pressure. Leg exposed, you realign jagged bone, pins clicking into place. Monitors scream. Seconds bleed. Can you outpace the clock?
