meus intuitus

Kafka-esque G0nza13z

leave a comment »

A man, 30-some years old, aggressive, knuckles red from violence, intoxicated. For the safety of the staff we sedate him. He snores for an hour and a half until-

“Doctor, he doesn’t look so good.”

“…”

I looked through the observation window to see a body a little too limp to be only sleeping. Was it the position of his head and neck? The uncomfortable splay of his limbs? An instinct passed along by the nurses already in the room? Somehow even from 10 feet away we just knew. This man was dead. I entered. I’ll never forget the whisper of blue in his fingertips, the simultaneous warmth and cold in his hands—like a piece of chicken partially microwaved. I’ll never forget laying my fingers across his still-warm neck and the stillness of the pulseless.

“There’s no pulse, I’m starting chest compressions.”

The code team arrived minuets later. Ill never forget Senta and the rest coming in like troop reinforcements.

PEA arrest, ventricular fibrillation, one shock, asystole

A 30-something man comes in intoxicated and red-knuckled with violence. He leaves with a white sheet over his face. Why? What do we learn from this? Is there any meaning in this?

Kafka-esque

Advertisements

Written by meusintuitus

January 19, 2015 at 6:58 pm

Posted in Uncategorized

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: