"Excuse me," I shouted, barely avoiding running into two nurses as I jogged down the long, dimly lit hallway. The trauma pager had beeped at 2:15 AM, waking me from a light sleep in one of the call rooms on the opposite side of the hospital. As I continued my half run, my brain was still waking up. Injured people from a motor vehicle accident involving a semi-truck and a SUV had been transported to our hospital. My imagination was kicking into full gear. Entering the trauma room, I found the charge nurse and scribbled the information I needed on my pad of paper. The doors burst open as the driver of the SUV was rushed in with the emergency transport team. The whole room erupted into chaos as I did my best to stay out of everyone's way.
After thirty minutes of tubes, fluids and continuous CPR, the patient was no longer breathing. There was no pulse on the monitor and most of the staff had stopped running around frantically. Suddenly, the doctor applying chest compressions yelled out, "Where's the medical student? Medical student?" I rushed over with my paper and pen in hand, ready to transcribe. To my surprise, he handed me a pair of gloves, stepped down from his stool and instructed me to continue with the chest compressions. I frantically pulled on the latex gloves, tripping up the one-step stool, unprepared for what was about to occur. As I began compressions, I looked down into a face whose eyes stared into mine with no feeling and no warmth, but what appeared to me to be a pleading not to stop, not to give up. "1...2...3...4...5," I counted in my head as I pushed with all my might, wishing I could somehow push the life back into his eyes. This individual whose life was unknown to me had become in that moment everything that I cared about.
This one memory has taught me many things about medicine and the value of people. What was it about this man that drove me so much, emotionally and physically, to bring him back from death? Previously, I would have said this was due to the altruistic nature that resides within most medical professionals, the reason we claim to be in this career from the beginning. While this is still true, I believe there is something deeper that drove me and pushes others to give everything they have to save a complete stranger: the human connection. As people, we are blessed with the capability to comprehend that there is more to a person than what we simply perceive with our senses. We are a collection of our parents, friends, and family. We embody our achievements and failures, our hopes and dreams. These are things most everyone can share and appreciate with one another. The human connection allows us to look past the exterior and see a little of ourselves in everyone we meet. For me, I looked into this stranger's dying eyes and wanted to not only rescue this man, but myself as well.
"Didn't you hear me?" the doctor shouted while grabbing my shoulder. He had been speaking, trying to tell me the time of death had been announced and all efforts for resuscittion were to be stopped, including chest compressions. I backed away from the table, filled with questions that were impossible to answer. What did I do wrong? Why didn't he live? Why did they let him die? While my mind understood there was nothing more that could have been done, especially by me, my emotions overruled the logic of the situation. At the end of that clerkship, I left with an understanding of the human connection, the bond we as practitioners have with patients that drives us to be physicians. During a few short hours, I learned a lesson that I will continue to reflect upon and use to enrich not only the lives of my patients but mine as well.
Samuel Abebe
Class of 2013
