It was the worst thing that could have possibly ever happened.

The E.R. was already busy with people; then the tones sounded.  From the length of the noise, it alerted us to one thing: there was a bad situation coming in.  A chemical plant fire was in progress; victims were already enroute to several different area hospitals, including ours.  The one squad of paramedics told us that three ambulances were enroute to our hospital with five victims, all male, and three of them critical.

We knew we had to act fast in order to meet the victims.  I jumped on the ER staff and told them to prepare the treatment rooms for the men once they arrived.  I know I wasn't in a pleasant mood: my mood had soured ever since I started my shift over six hours ago; there was no telling how long I would be working today.  From the busyness of the ER, it looked like I had my work cut out for me.

The injured men arrived not even ten minutes later.  We were on them within moments, treating their injuries, trying to see what was going on, ordering tests, x-rays, MRI and CAT scans, attaching lines and monitoring equipment.  One man was so badly burned his facial features looked unrecognizable.  He wasn't responsive: it was clear that he was on his deathbed.  If he even survived, it would be a miracle, I remembered thinking as I gazed at the patient.

Sure enough, the man went into cardiac arrest.  CPR and other resuscitive measures were started.  They worked on him for nearly an hour but to no avail.  An hour later the man was pronounced dead; I then had the arduous task of notifying the man's next-of-kin that their loved one had expired a short time ago.

And just before the Thanksgiving holidays, too.

The other two were in equally rough shape, but not nearly as the first man.  There was a likelihood that they would survive.  After we treated them, we sent them to the burn ward, where skilled nurses and physicians would continue to provide the best of care and hopefully get them on the road to recovery.

The death of the man didn't help lighten my mood any; neither did informing the widow about the death of her husband.  Her howls will probably stay with me for a very long time to come.  Somebody wouldn't be celebrating Thanksgiving, I thought to myself.  Instead, they'll be burying a beloved family member.

Such a rotten thing to have anytime, but especially during the approaching holiday season.

~Dr. Arpid J. Majaj, E.R. physician, Nashville Memorial Hospital, Nashville, Tennessee.

~To be continued!~