help I'm being treated

The caterwauling could be heard in the corridor long before the young adult male was carried in on a plank of wood. His head was lolling from side to side, a red trickle of blood oozed from the corner of his mouth. His checked shirt was discolored and stained.
Evaluation was difficult.
I had to push past an old woman beating her chest and a young one (wife?) throwing herself at his feet and hanging on for dear life.
Haemetemisis perhaps? Whatever. Anyway, emergency treatment had to be given. Perhaps if I started an IV line, pushed in a stomach tube and washed out the stomach with ice water, the bleeding would stop long enough for me to send him to the nearest hospital. The sooner the better. The accompanying crowd can get very nasty if there is a death. I did not really want by premises destroyed or the publicity.
He was conscious, oriented and passive when I inserted the needle.
The stomach tube was another story altogether. He gagged, fought and sat up. Determined to succeed (Robert Bruce – try and try again) I held him down and tried harder.
Suddenly, he pulled out the IV line. (This made blood drip on the floor as well). He pushed me to one side, fell to the floor and clutched my feet.
“Save me!” He shouted.
“ I am trying to, but unless you cooperate what can I do?”
“I want to be saved from you,” he shouted, “you are killing me!”
“Nonsense! I am trying to save your life.”
“Ayoo! I am not vomiting blood. I just swallowed a brick dissolved in water to frighten my family. Let me go. If I stay here any longer, you WILL kill me.”
Gathering his clothes he ran out of the room followed closely by disbelieving relatives.
“ A miracle!” shouted one of them, “I told you this doctor has lucky hands. She just has to touch you and you will recover.”
Well, a little community goodwill doesn’t hurt , And, in the final analysis, “All’s well that end’s well!”