My First Death

I had only worked in the ER for around a week, when I was sitting at my desk, and the triage nurse came over and told me that a "post-arrest" was on its way in, and that we had no info on them.
I felt a surge of excitement run through me, this was to be my first major "trauma" that I would deal with all on my own. About ten minutes later I heard the "CTAS 1 to A2" go out over the loud speaker, and saw the blur of the EHS gurney zoom past.

The unknown patient popped up on my computer screen and I ran all the paperwork off as a "stat reg"; meaning, I ran it through with no personal demographic details, and gave a new medical record number to the patient. As soon as I had finished running it off, the social worker came by with a wallet. It was the patients, she told me to go through it to see if I could find any relevant information, and to now change the "unknown" patients name, to the name on his drivers license.

It is always strange going through a strangers wallet. He was an 82-year-old, English gentleman. In his wallet he had pictures of his family, and a very dashing picture of himself as a young servicemen during World War Two. I proceeded to update all of his demographic details, and re- ran off all the paperwork.

I dropped off all the forms with the unit clerk, and hustled into the trauma bay, with the patients wallet. Right when I walked in the doors is when they shocked him. I had seen it done on TV shows before, but nothing really prepares you for watching it in person. The patients arms and upper body flew up and crashed back down, violently. The nurse then went up and suctioned out his mouth, while they gave another shot of Epi. This happened 2 more times as I stood in the crowd of residents, EHS crew, and firemen; with my mouth agape. This was my first realization that death is neither romantic nor beautiful,no matter how it happens, it is never pretty.

Five minutes afterwards they decided to call it. I don't remember the exact time of death, but I do remember the trauma nurses taking a white sheet and covering him, while the whole trauma bay went silent. The silence was deafening, compared the the hustle and bustle that going on only moments before trying to save a life.

I walked back to my desk in a daze. I had applied to work in emerg, to get to participate in saving lives, dealing with death, feeling that rush of adrenaline, and now I had truly experienced what it means to work here.

A half hour later, I walked past the trauma bay, and saw the man's son holding his hand and saying goodbye.

I will never forget that day.