Five minutes
"How can the idiot not take care of such a beautiful girl?"
By TJ Jamshidi
April 25, 2002
The Iranian
Yesterday, I had the day off. The definition of day off in my case means I have
eight hours off but can still be paged at any time. I decide to go to a coffee shop
near my apartment. I order my favorite espresso, I grab a newspaper and start to
read.
Then I hear a beep, the distinctive sound of a beeper that I have become so accustomed
to hearing these days. It is Janice the ER nurse. I call her. "TJ, we have a
19-year old MVA (Motor Vehicle Accident), pretty bruised up."
I tell her I will be there ASAP. As I reach the hospital and catch the elevators,
I hear the hovering sounds of the helicopter that are probably bringing the victim.
I suddenly go back to the days of training in Detroit.
The sound of hovering helicopters made me think I am in a war zone. In fact it could
have been a war zone as gun shot and stab wound victims were dime a dozen in that
center. On the first day of working there I remembered why army surgeons came to
train there.
As I get to the ER I find the victim. A 19-year-old
Iranian girl, with dark brown hair with a cast around her head. She has big eyelashes.
Her eyes are closed. John the ER doc tells me her blood pressure is low and she has
various external and may be internal injuries. I examine her abdomen and find it
unusually tender: sign of bleeding. I suddenly see her in a sea of blood.
She is young, she is beautiful. She could be someone's sister, girlfriend, daughter.
John tells me she was in a car accident, her boyfriend crashed into another car.
Apparently he was drunk. I get angry "How can the idiot not take care of such
a beautiful girl?" But there is no time for anger as she needs to be rushed
to the OR, operating room.
I grab Allan, a second year resident. "Do you want to scrub in for a potential
ruptured spleen?" He eagerly says yes and joins me in the OR. As I put the scalpel
on her belly, I soon see that blood is gushing out. My prediction was right she has
massive internal injuries. The operation is a roller coaster ride.
As she keeps losing blood, I keep ordering blood and intermittent doses of epinephrine,
a drug that increases blood pressure. Finally we are done, she is stable.
Janice tells me that he boyfriend and family are awaiting me for an update. I open
the OR door with anger and go meet this clown. As I see him from far, I notice he
is crying and keeps looking at me. I am outraged. I want to throw him to the wall
and tell him that if he was five minutes late she would have died. I wanted to tell
him that he doesn't deserve her.
As I approach him, I see the sign of regret and sadness in his eyes.
"She will be ok, don't worry."
He gives me a look of appreciation and shakes my hand not wanting to let go. I look
back and say, "You take good care of her now."
I go back to the coffee shop, order another espresso hoping that this time I can
finish it as I await my next adventure.
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