Rhythmic Destruction

“CT confirmed – dissection, type A”

“Bad news; tamponade.”

Faces turned grey. Dreams of simple cases, of lunch breaks or stops for coffee, simple schedules, life saving, heroism; all turned away.

A great vessel torn apart, the ferocity of pressure searing it open, and with it, natural order ripped, internal chaos commanded, for years of chronic pressure, body reprimanded.

Blood leaking back, bursting through tissue bursting through muscle through fibres and pooling.

Unnatrually stagnant. Muffling, constricting, blocking the heart. Drum sounds stifled as the body gasped for blood.

 

“Is there anything here that anyone can do?”

 

Emergency doctors looked at cardiac doctors looked at emergency nurses looked at cardiac nurses looked at SHOs looked at emergency doctors. The lowly lucky students, basking in our insignificance, were excluded from this circle of desperation,

agitation frustration,

hidden under layers of poker faces, professionalism and probity.

All that stared were aware that woefully,

Odds were slim.

Blood pressure dropping

Odds were slim

Sats were dropping

Odds were slim

No air ambulances, and odds

With a glimmer in it’s eye and a smirk, and  cackle

Became even slimmer

 

And now. Wait.

Wait for a flash of brilliance, instruction. Wait for a decision.

Wait for someone to decide on a 65 year old life.

A 65 year old life, who 24 hours ago was in the garden, family surrounding, laughing, enjoying, wife makes lemonade, children play, he sits and admires the idyllic display. Or perhaps;

A 65 year old life who 24 hours ago was crying for an out. Argument with the wife, divorce impending, considering the knife, considering an ending, or more likely

A 65 year old life who 24 hours ago, and 24 hours before, and 24 hours before; normal, ordinary, practically a bore. Uneventful days followed by uneventful nights followed by typical routines followed by timetabled lifestyle followed by average events followed by

 

Gasp. Splutter. Weakness. Pain.

Searing, tearing, indescribable pain.

Bright lights, monitors, needles.

Bright lights, masks, beeping.

Bright lights, chattering, fading.

Dim lights. Beeping. Slowing.

Dark lights, Gasping.

 

What’s happening?

 

Waiting.

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Rhythmic Destruction

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