When Lives Are Not Worth Saving

Last Sunday, I was the trauma resident on duty at the emergency room. Sunday mornings and afternoons are usually benign... much like a typical weekend when everyone just wants to bum around, too lazy to hurt one another or do something stupid. Without warning, two patients were brought in by several policemen. According to the police, they were passengers of a motorcycle that was apparently ran over by a bus. The girl looked okay... she may have several wounds and fractures, but she was evidently going to live. The same cannot be said with her male companion. He was pale, unconscious, and a lot of blood was seeping through the huge wound in his left leg. His pelvis was crushed, and I could see intestines peeking through the wound. Emergency procedures were initiated, his chest was even torn open to pump his heart, he was transferred to the operating room immediately... but from the very second I saw him, I knew he wasn't going to make it. True enough, he died in the operating room. His companion was still in shock, we had to rule out traumatic brain injury. She was stable though, and after a few hours, she was coherent, and I was stunned as I heard her tell us what happened. They were on a motorcycle when a speeding bus came up behind them. she was thrown off the motorcycle, while her cousin, who was driving, was crushed underneath the bus together with the vehicle. Then she couldn't remember anything else. She asked for the contents of her pockets, assuming we removed them. We did no such thing. We noticed both of their pockets were empty when we were looking for identification. She mentioned that both of them had wallets with a fine sum of money, and both of them had expensive cellular phones. I was horrified by what I had deduced. Some people actually stole from these victims. Instead of helping someone who was bleeding to death, they actually had the nerve to steal from them. His prognosis was bad in the first place, but bringing him to a hospital a few minutes earlier could have made a difference. They didn't just leave them to die, they added insult to injury. They threw salt in their open wounds. What goes on in the minds of those people?! Did they steal out of great need? Is the cost of living really that high, that we loose all forms of compassion just to provide ourselves with basic needs? Did they think those people are going to die anyway so they might as well steal from them since they won't ave any use for those material things anymore? I can't think of a rational explanation to justify such actions. They say all men are inherently good... when things such as this happen, I wonder how true that statement is. I doubt anyone who is inherently good can act so heartless. Evil lurks in the hearts of men.

Sometimes I wonder if all the effort we give to save lives are wasted. In the remote possibility that one of those who stole from them becomes our patient, I'd rather direct my efforts to someone else--- someone who deserves to live. Such evil men do not deserve another shot at life. Being a trauma resident can be really frustrating, and not fulfilling at all. How can you be really fulfilled when you aren't sure if you're contributing to the common good. A lot of our patients are criminals, killers, crooks. All of them deny it, but obviously a lot of them are lying. You can see it in their eyes. It's easy to see through their lies. There's this temptation to not care at all. Our work becomes purely mechanical, we suture lacerations, evacuate hematomas, dress wounds. It becomes mechanical because it's hard to relate and emphatize with such patients, just save their lives and that's it. We try not to think that we're contributing to the greater evil in this world by prolonging the lives of evil men. Fulfillment comes when we know we save lives of good people, when we save lives of people who deserve to live. Just seeing them get well is fulfilling enough. Most of the time though, we try to fool ourselves just to have some sort of fulfillment in what we do. We try not to think that we're saving lives that are not worth saving at all.

One Fun Diversion

The object shown above may probably be one of the greatest inventions man has ever thought of. That's no tennis nor badminton racket. That is actually a mosquito killer. Such a device is very useful at our hospital, where the mosquito population probably outnumbers the human constituents a hundred fold. Every corner, there's a mosquito present, which are vectors for lots of diseases. Funny how they're so rampant in a healthcare institution. lol. It kills mosquitos the same way those electric devices with warm lights do... but this device makes killing mosquitos--- fun. Killing mosquitos becomes such a fun, addictive game, like you're a predator hunting for prey. It's such a welcome diversion from work, a diversion that never fails to bring smiles to our faces. No one can deny the pure joy one feels when you hear that spark when a mosquito has been caught in the racket. There's a guilty pleasure everytime you see those mosquitos frying to their deaths. Pure, unadulterated bliss.

I think I'm starting to go crazy. Our work is making all of us crazy!

Shackled

One bad thing about government hospitals--- there's a shortage of almost everything, including the essential stuff. It gets really frustrating when you can't do the proper management because one instrument is not available. We feel trapped... shackled... We have to improvise, and often, the results are not as good. It's pathetic that something essential as an antiseptic, be it povidone iodine, or even ordinary alcohol can run out in the emergency room. Even ordinary alcohol! In the emergency room for Christ's sake, where needs should be readily available in order to hadle emergencies, in order to save lives! It's understandable when we lack those sophisticated instruments--- PGH is a government hospital after all, and often there's the problem of lack of funds to support certain operations... but to lack essential stuff is unforgivable. Labelling our hospital as one of the premiere hospitals is the country may be one of the greatest sins of all.

Unfeeling

I guess I've changed a lot in just 1 1/2 months. One change that I've noticed is that I seemed to have lost compassion... when every patient you encounter have monetary problems combined with sordid life stories, it's gets harder to give them pity. The impact one gets from hearing stories of difficult living becomes lesser and lesser when everyone tells them. At this point, i have become numb, there's no impact at all. Most often, I even get pissed when I hear the familiar line of patients saying they have no money at all. everyone seems to have this stupid notion that everything is free in a government hospital, unaware that us doctors provide their needs with money from our own pockets. Maybe it's not such a stupid notion, because so many people have the same notion. Ideally, a government hospital should provide the needs of its people, especially those who can't afford health care anywhere else... it's just their luck that they're not in a First world country wherein their government can afford to provide adequate health care for its people. Everytime I hear that familiar statement---- "We have no money", I cringe... I have to shell out money again! With my measly salary! if my parents stopped giving me allowances, I'd be as poor as these people! I can never understand how anyone can leave their house without any money when faced with emergencies, with the simple reason that they were panicking, so they forgot. I find it even harder to understand how may people who came from places that are so far away can do all that travelling and yet arrive at the hospital with no money at all! Wouldn't it make more sense to seek treatment on a place that's much nearer, so that they can spend their money for medications instead of transportation! Can emergencies really cause acute stupidity?! I even get more pissed when such patients are so ungrateful, you don't even get a simple thank you, some of them even act like they're doing you a favor by letting you operate on them. i guess I can't expect much from trauma patients.... Yeah, there are some good patients, those who are innocent victims of unfortunate circumstances... but mostly they're criminals, or people denying they're criminals... either they're heroes stopping a fight, or innocent bystanders, victims of bad luck. Those who aren't criminals are mostly people stupid enough to drive when they're dead drunk, or dumb enough to punch a mirror in a fit of rage, or stupid enough to put a loaded gun in their pocket and accidentally shoot themselves in the groin. i used to like rotating in trauma no matter how hectic it can get... but dealing with such patients every minute of every day--- It's like I'm carrying a huge burden, and it keeps on getting heavier and heavier. i haven't just lost pity for such patients... I'd like to deny it, but I'm slowly starting to despise these trauma patients. I can't even force a smile when I talk to them. I've become one grumpy doctor that no patient who can afford medical services would want to deal with.

At times though, it all seems worthwhile. For every hundred annoying patient, there's at least one good patient. Those who keep on saying thank you, those who'd give a simple gist as a symbol of their gratefulness, be it food, a simple token, even though you'd rather have them pay the huge amount you've shelled out for them... A simple thank you can bring a smile to a grumpy face, they can erase the memories of the other patients.... Such patients come rarely though... the rotten ones around you remain, keeping you drenched in misery. No compassion. No pity. Just Apathy. Indifference. Sometimes, even hate.

This can't be a good thing.

Blackout !

Last Friday, we went to the annual "First Year Blowout". It's one tradition in the department of surgery that every first year resident must go through. It's some sort of welcome party--- from hell. It's one night when the seniors get you drunk, and they won't stop giving you drinks until you literally pass out. Honestly, i couldn't remember anything that happened that night, I just woke up in the men's dorm confused the next day, not knowing where i am and how i got there! And I was surprised to see writings of expletive and malicious texts all over my body! Dried puke was all over my clothes and all over the room. I really can't remember anything! usually when i get real drunk, every thing's a blur. That last time--- every thing's a blank! I've had a blackout episode once before, but that time there were several blips of memories that remained intact, i had the recollection of some events. That last time the worst. it's like a day of my life was taken away from me. Several people have told me what happened that night--- i guess it's a good thing i don't remember anything. From what I've heard, i was far from being a good boy. i kept hugging and harassing everyone, being so noisy making a fool of myself--- They said I was the life of the party and i wasn't even aware of it. Not I'm dreading next Wednesday's conference, when they're supposed to show the pictures! Maybe the fact that I've had 3 days of literally no sleep was one factor resulting to that blackout... Lack of sleep plus loads of alcohol can bring even giants down. Hey, if there's one good thing coming out form all that, i slept for 10 hours after the party because we were allowed to come In late the next day. 10 hours of sleep! what a luxury!

Now I've got to go. I'm supposed to be updating our census, i just couldn't help but log onto the internet. lol. :)