They Came By Air

"Trauma alert by air 10 minutes.  Trauma alert by air 10 minutes".  For those of us wearing protective lead, covered head to toe in surgical attire, medical ninja garb, we are prepared to receive whatever comes our way.  We anticipate the badness that has been air lifted to our helicopter pad 24/7.  We first greet you, but you cannot see our face, just our eyes.  You are disoriented from a flight up-up and away from your disaster site, and you are carefully lowered to a small roof top that overseas a metropolis with college parties, gang violence, corporate gatherings and trials and tribulations of everyday life.  

You are here now.  I greet you with a welcome to ____ Medical Center, I'm your nurse.  You're safe now.  We are going to take great care of you.  I do my best to absorb a readers digest version of report with just the highlights from the flight crew, knowing they will repeat it when we cross the red line in the trauma bay.  I explain to my patient that we are going to move fast but we are thorough.  I explain that we will be cutting their clothing off and giving their belongings to security.  I try to prepare them because they are no longer in control.  Their control ended on impact with whatever bad thing landed them on our roof.

In those moments we look at every inch of skin, we check for holes and check existing holes.  We invade your body with needles, airway devices, caterers, tubes, hands and fingers.  We are causing you pain to end your pain and save your life.  We do this out of love for our vocation-- because it is not just a job we show up for-- it is our passion.  We like to fix things.  We are fixers. 

Somedays when they come by air the fix is easier than we thought, but the pain for the body is brutal. The emotional pain can be worse.  One lands on our roof and another- perhaps a soulmate lands on another roof hours away.  Together they became powerless, they were impacted, they became patients, but they are separated and suffering physical pain and a deep hurt not knowing if the other is still breathing or alive.  I can give you drugs to lessen the pain from your trauma, but I can do little to mend your heart.  

I rarely think about the other, because I am so focused on you and fixing you.... but then hours later on the news or in the paper or via a call you learn about the others.  I hope for the best, but know that if you landed on our roof the badness was real and the stark reality of life comes like a speeding bullet.  My patient survives, but there are others who do not.  Maybe one or maybe a couple perish.  It is sad and I selfishly hope that my patients soulmate lives on and makes a recovery, because I have seen the news and it was bad!