Thursday seemed like just another day. I had hopped out of clinic early to go downtown with Rusty to get a paper renewed so that we could continue to visit the prison. Ran down to the market to grab stuff for dinner. And then headed back to clinic to do a respiratory treatment for a wheezy little boy. Little did I know what would greet me as I walked in the door.
I walked in to find our staff & Lala holding pressure on the bloody head of a friend. There was blood everywhere & a lot of it. It's funny because, as a medical person, there must be some switch that is put in your brain. For situations like this one, the switch is flipped & you hop into Go-Mode. And Go-Mode for me means that I get almost eerily calm & get to work. So I just hit one injury at a time, making large, deep sutures to simply stop things from bleeding. There were three spots that were bleeding pretty profusely, so those were my focuses. About 45 minutes in, my nursing partner-in-crime popped into clinic & went to work on the other side of his head. While I may be the "trauma surgeon", Keziah is definitely the "plastic surgeon" part of our duo. So I make the bleeding stop, she makes things look pretty. Of course, this whole time we are forcing him to talk, making sure that he stays awake. Irritating him by making him tell stories- anything to keep him awake.
So after giving him a liter of IV fluids, placing multiple sutures, making him drink a Coke, & putting him in the shower with Rusty, we bleached the clinic floor & I finally saw the little boy who needed a respiratory treatment. As I made my way home, I had that thought of "How did I get here?" A reminder of what it looks like to live, work, & have friends here.
"Take your face out of your hands
And clear your eyes
You have a right to your dream
And don't be denied.
I believe in a better way.
I believer in a better way."
Better Way- Ben Harper