Not everything in life is black and white. The shades of gray can be overpowering. Choosing which way to turn can be difficult, too. Black? White? Gray? Sometimes, circumstances, or ethics, make the choices for you.
A very long time ago, I worked in the Recovery Room. There were usually four RN's working in there, with a nursing assistant to help us. There were six stations; each could accommodate two patients, with telemetry, automatic blood pressure cuffs, and oxygen available for each. There was a writing surface in the middle, so the nurse could chart while taking care of the patients.
It was a fairly quiet day in the operating room. There were lots of surgeries being done, but the patients were moving smoothly through the process. Each time the double doors to the operating room burst open, a gurney, surrounded by OR personnel, would enter the Recovery Room.
Whichever nurse was going to take the patient would raise her hand and direct the parade to her station. As the OR nurse gave report, the Recovery Room nurse was putting the oxygen mask on the patient, hooking up the telemetry, and placing the blood pressure cuff. Wounds were looked at and orders reviewed.
And then, as quickly as they swooped into the room, the OR crew was headed back to the operating room to do it all over again.
And the Recovery Room nurse watched over the awakening patient, monitoring vital signs closely, and offering comforting words: your surgery is over, you're in the recovery room now. Are you warm enough? Are you having any pain?....
This day was no different, with surgical patients coming to us, then going to their rooms. In and out, for most of the morning. And then, our manager asked me to move to the sixth station, the one we didn't use very frequently. I moved a couple of gurneys that were parked there, put oxygen masks and tubing on the oxygen outlets, ran a test strip on the telemetry, and prepared for my patient.
The doors burst open, and the scene was repeated: gurney with patient, and a parade of OR personnel accompanying it. Only this time, it was different. There were two men in uniform, one on each side of the gurney.
I got the patient hooked up to the oxygen, the telemetry, and the blood pressure cuff. I put the cuff on his left arm because his right hand was elevated on a pillow, and bandaged. The OR nurse gave me report: he had surgery on his right index finger. His trigger finger. He had been holding a gun, and a police officer shot it out of his hand.
I was busy taking care of my patient, watching his vital signs and talking to him to help him wake up. When he did wake up, he started yelling that he was in pain. I started to walk the five or so steps to the narcotics cabinet, to get the pain medication that was ordered.
One of the officers spoke: “don't give him anything, he doesn't deserve it!” I stopped, and looked at him, and saw that he was serious, and angry. I turned around and continued my trip to the narcotics cabinet.
The other officer, on the other side of the bed, looked at the first one and said “You're no better than he is!” And I looked at him and saw that he was angry, too. I drew up the medication that was ordered, walked back to the patient and gave him his pain medication, in his IV. He settled down almost immediately.
Approximately 2 hours before that young man came to me on a gurney, he walked into a local pawn shop and demanded money. After the owner complied with his order, the young man shot him dead, at point blank range. He was apprehended about two blocks away, and that is where his gun was shot out of his hand.
When he left the Recovery Room, he was taken to the same day surgery department for another couple of hours, then booked into the county jail on murder charges.
Now, there are lots of issues here, concerning motives, the loss of an innocent life, justice, and even the death penalty. How did this young man come to be a murderer? What did he need that money for? What did the shop owner do to upset him, if anything? Will he receive due process? And on and on and on.
None of that mattered in the Recovery Room.
No comments:
Post a Comment