PASSION
AND DEATH – TRAUMA CENTER
From
one Emergency Room to another,
pants
cut away, left leg protruding
high
over the hip, hands push hard,
gut
wrenching pain, an air cast
secured
by duct tape, a long
ambulance
ride on ice-slick
roads
north to a trauma hospital,
each
bump a jolt of pain,
each
stop an agonizing conclusion.
You and Andy follow close
behind
the ambulance, a
makeshift
cortege like
the
procession of cars
behind
a hearse. Bright
lights
of the Trauma Center
cut
through the sleety
gloom
of the night, gurney
transfer
to another
Emergency
Room, greeted
with,
“What’s this shit
around
your leg?” Explanations
of
air casts notwithstanding,
“We
don’t like it,” as
duct
tape is cut, air cast
removed,
more pain
shoots
up from the break
to
my brain. A flat board
strapped
to the leg,
and
more pain. You
walk
in as the gurney
transfers
me once more,
a
crease of worry on
your
forehead, I smile
feebly,
we both know
what
lay ahead.
My
years working in
x-ray,
I know that
good
pictures come
only
at the cost
of
much pain. To lay
on
the part the hurs
the
most is the only
way,
“Let’s get this
over
with,” no need
to
hold my breath,
the
pain catches my
breath
in my throat.
“1,
2, 3,” the x-rays hum
around
my leg, then
a
loud click, the sound
of
hard flat slides
moving
out and in
the
x-ray table, another
position,
another breath
caught
in my throat,
eyes
clenched in pain,
“That
didn’t take, we need
to
do it again.” How long,
ten
minutes, an eternity?
I
know only the pain.
Transfer
to the floor,
nurses
hustle about,
vitals
taken, whispered
conversations,
“we need
to
talk away this board.”
Leave
it the hell alone
does
not dissuade, as
the
board is removed,
and
the leg is placed
in
traction, more pain,
an
administration of more
pain-killer,
then darkness.
How
long did you stay,
exhausted
from lack
of
sleep and worry?
Did
you peek in and
visit
me as I laid
there?
I can’t remember.
A
long, slow ride back
to
New Prague, over
sleet-covered
roads
is
ahead of you, only
to
make the trip again
in
the morning. Love
has
a way of cutting
through
exhaustion,
heightening
the senses
a
shot of adrenaline
giving
strength to
muscles
at the point
of
fatigue. Love
welling
up from the
heart,
clears the mind,
focus
becomes sharpened,
and
purpose defined.
How
much sleep did
you
get that night?
More
than likely, very
little,
yet there you
were
in the morning
as
I was wheeled
into
surgery.
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