Today is a very sad day for our emergency department.  One of our very favorite "customers" passed away two hours ago and I can still hear nurses sobbing in the hallway.

Dan Rhoades was a "frequent flyer", or a person who came to the ER for treatment, on a regular basis.  Born with Down syndrome, he had the mind of a child and accompanying physical problems, including severe heart trouble.  In fact, it was his heart that got him in the end, the reason that brought him here to the ER in the first place.

Around three thirty this afternoon, the tones sounded, alerting us that a case was on the way to our department via ambulance.  It was a Caucasian male in his forties, who had suffered chest pains and problems breathing as a result.  He needed help right away.

I alerted the ER staff to be ready to receive the patient once paramedics wheeled him in.  Not even five minutes later, the EMTs wheeled the patient to the trauma bay, Treatment Room #1.  Two paramedics wheeled the gurney in; a third paramedic was straddling the patient, performing CPR.

This couldn't be good, I remember thinking.

The patient was in trouble.  Chances were, if a patient was wheeled in without pulse or respiration, he would not survive. The man was without pulse, without breath.  There was no question as to how long he had been like this.  His skin was white.  He was lifeless.  Limp.  

Technically, he had already died, but the EMTs were determined to try to bring him back to life.

We took over the man's care.  Tubes, lines, and monitors were soon attached to the man as we tried to pump life-saving meds into him.  Nothing seemed to work.  The guy was clearly on his way to checking out.

That was when I saw his face.  We all collectively gasped as we recognized the man.  We knew immediately who he was.  Bright red hair that reminded me of a flame.  Pale, doughy skin.  A chubby build.  It was Dan.  Dan "The Man" Rhoades.  This wasn't the first time he had been to our department, but this time, what he faced was very serious.  It was as if Death had come with its calling card.  The card had Dan Rhoades' name scribbled on it.

We worked on Dan for over an hour, trying desperately to revive him.  Nothing worked.  Absolutely nothing.  That was when Dr. Jagadish, one of the head doctors of the ER department, funally pronounced Dan Rhoades dead.

At the news, Louisiana Sandusky, one of the head nurses who had been summoned to help, fled, covering her face with her hands, sobbing hysterically.  Another nurse screamed, "NOOOOO!!" and started hitting the walls with her fists.  A third nurse started swearing uncontrollably.  It was Roberto Sormiento.  His face was a mask of extreme rage.  I had never seen him so mad.

If we had managed to save Dan Rhoades, he would have probably been left severely brain damaged: a vegetable.  He would have not had a viable life, according to Dr Jagadish.

Ever since, the ER department has been enveloped in a thick cloud of sadness and disbelief.  We cannot believe that Dan Rhoades is gone!  It seems like a terrible nightmare that we cannot wake up from.

How I wished that things had turned out differently!!

~Dr. Jadeep Mehta, MD, Nashville, Tennessee.

~To be continued.~