You might hear an overhead announcement to the effect of, "Adult stat, eight north. Adult stat, eight north." But it will be announced in the exact same tone of voice used to let you know a scrubs sale is happening in the gift shop. Should you actually follow a team to the room where shit's getting real, you'd be greeted by a weird quiet. Some amazing things will be happening, but they'll be happening without commentary. When I run a resuscitation effort, I know it's going well if no one but me is talking, and in these situations, I actually tend to speak more quietly and politely than usual. An ideal resuscitation effort would look calm to an outsider, like everyone had been rehearsing this for a very long time and knew exactly what to do.
Because they do, of course.
"I say, could you please pass me one-half milligram of epinephrine, old bean?"
There's a protocol we follow when we're trying to save someone's life with ACLS, which stands for advanced cardiac life support. Knowing that protocol is how you get certified to do it. And the protocol includes precisely zero steps that involve shouting or running around with your arms flailing about like a panicked Muppet. It's all about control, clear communication between the team leader and the team members, and each member of the resuscitation team performing his or her duty. We've modeled how we do this on how airplane crews function.