Yet another delayed post…we just got power back Tuesday night (7 days without), and internet back Wednesday afternoon. It was an adventure.
This is a poem I wrote during a physician well-being symposium, in response to reading a poem about the perspectives of a surgeon and patient leading up to an operation.
The events are entirely fictional.
I looked up, over the drapes.
The laparoscopy screen
went red.
Behind me, the steady
beep…beep…beep
of the monitor began to
accelerate.
I heard the surgeon’s voice:
“She’s bleeding—we need to convert to open”
Dialing the OR desk, I spoke as soon as they picked up
“We need a massive transfusion activation in OR 21”
I ran instinctively through my checklist
Access—two peripherals including one 18
Typed and crossed for two units preop
More would come in the cooler
Rapid transfuser en route
In preop, Sally told me she had a dream about emergence;
I wondered if she had contemplated this
I said loudly and clearly,
perhaps not quite yelling,
“No carotid pulse. Start CPR.”