Life is precious

**********Grab a tissue***********


The call came out around 5:45 p.m. "Person struck by auto". We went en route, and dispatch came across with more info. It made my stomach sink to my toes. "7 year old male.... still stuck under the vehicle.... unconscious.... bleeding". The neighborhood was nearby, and we raced there. On our way, we called for a helicopter from the children's hospital. We found the location, evident by then emergency vehicles already on scene. We pulled up and I jumped out before the truck had even stopped. There was an SUV in the middle of the road. There were neighbors standing all around. Most silently watched in horror, hands covering their mouths in disbelief, but some laughed and carried on happy conversation. That made me mad. There were kids the same age as our patient watching all of the flashing lights, not realizing the severity of the situation. I circled the vehicle, and saw the boy's mangled shape under the car. He was face down on the ground, battered and bloody. Breathing, but unconscious. His dad was under the back of the car, talking to him, trying to wake up from the nightmare unfolding before his eyes. We got the boy out from under the car, put him on a backboard, and moved him into the ambulance. We were going to have to really work to save this kid, and I didn't want the audience or neighbors watching. His friends didn't need to see that either. I got in the back of the truck, along with at least five or six other people. We all went to work. The guys at the boys legs began bandaging and splinting what they could. His ankle and femur (thigh bone) were obviously broken and he had nasty lacerations and road rash on his legs. A chunk of flesh was missing from his knee, exposing the muscle underneath. Someone cut his clothes off to check for injuries, and his chest was moving as he tried to breathe, but it wasn't moving evenly like it should. His entire right side was broken and mangled. With each breath we could feel crackling under the skin from his right nipple all the way down to his hip. This is called subcutaneous emphysema, and it means that there is air trapped under the skin. This is a really bad sign, and his was the worst I have ever seen. His left lung sounded good, but his right one was very faint- another sign that air was leaking out and the lung was crushed. I was at his head. I heard someone call his name. Great- he had gone from a catastrophically injured kid, to someone with a name. It made it personal. I got a lump in the back of my throat. I went to work, trying to help this kid in any way I could. His breathing was inadequate, so I began to use the bag valve mask to breathe for him. I grabbed the laryngoscope to look in his mouth and try to see his vocal cords, but he had too much blood in his airway, and his teeth clenched down as I tried to see (a sign of a severe head injury). He was posturing- arms moving away from his body in spasms- another sign of severe head trauma. I suctioned blood out of his airway, and continued to bag him, pushing air into his lungs, and in turn into his belly too. It was unavoidable. Other people arrived- supervisors and more- and jumped in as well. They pushed some drugs to knock him completely out, and intubated him, securing his airway. We checked his eyes, and his left pupil was blown- it was dilated and not responsive- one more telltale sign of massive brain injury. He had blood pouring from his left ear, yet another bad sign. The helicopter landed and we briefed the flight crew on the boy's injuries. I held his head, and felt a huge skull fracture. His head was swollen and mushy on the side of the fracture, and the bulge filled my entire cupped hand. I was extremely careful not to complicate this boy's injuries. He was loaded onto the helicopter and flown to the children's trauma center. I don't expect him to make it.


We went back to the station to clean the blood and trash out of the back of the truck. I scrubbed his blood off my forearm where it had brushed the side of his swollen face. We had used a lot of supplies on this kid, and everything had to be cleaned and restocked. We all donned our gloves and got to work. Not much was said. I lifted a towel, and there they were- his shoes. Black ones, with the laces cut. His socks, dirty from his hard play outdoors, laid next to them. The guys were throwing trash away, and I spoke up "don't throw away his shoes". Please, don't dismiss this kid that easily. He has a name. He has a family who are all now going through hell as he fights for his life. I will return the shoes. I want this family to know that someone really does care. I called the hospital at least a half a dozen times tonight, but with privacy laws what they are now, I can't get much info from them. At last check he was still in surgery six hours after the accident, and in extremely critical condition. He was in surgery, and his shoes sit on the brick wall of my station. I had to call my kids. Never have the words "I love you, mommy" sounded so sweet.