The doors to the ER burst open. A patient is in critical condition. Why and how are not important. All that matters now is saving this person's life. They're being rushed to the OR for open heart surgery. There's no time to waste. No one knows how long the patient has. The surgeons suit up and sanitize. Nurses take their positions. Tools ready. Gloves on. Masks up. It's time to get to work.

The surgery begins. Meticulous and methodical, the OR is buzzing with activity. The clock is ticking away. Orders are shouted and followed with precision. Can't lose focus, not even for a second. The surgery is nearing its conclusion, they're sewing them back up. But just when all seems well, the patient takes a turn for the worse. Tachycardia. They're losing the kid. Where's the defib? This can't be happening. Too young. Too soon.

Flatline. Full cardiac arrest. Time has just declared war. A nurse takes a chance and runs to the hall. She grabs the first AED she sees and runs back in a full sprint. This person is not gonna die today. She makes it back with only seconds to spare.

They ready the shock, and place the electrodes. Clear. Hit it. Clear. Hit it again. We are not losing this kid. CLEAR.

We have a heartbeat.