“Trauma notification coming in”…
It was not just any other trauma patient, not just a stranger. The woman on the EMS gurney groaned in pain. Her face was bloodied and disfigured, her hair matted with drying blood, the face almost beyond recognition, until I saw the nurse’s uniform. Just like my own.
“Anna”, I whispered her name but it sounded loud in a room suddenly rendered quiet by the shared recognition. Anna was one of the senior nurses in the ED, and she was well-loved by all of us. Even the surgeons respected her. She was the ED’s toughest nurse, and we were all proud of her.
There was just one muffled curse then the trauma chief’s voice spurred everyone into action. We listened as we moved Anna to the stretcher. The EMS paramedic’s voice quavered with the report. “We got the call about the assault from about two streets away from the hospital. She was assaulted by her ex-husband. She’s breathing and moving all extremities. She’s awake, alert, and oriented but she cannot talk much because of her swollen face.”
The other paramedic chimed in, “And her ex was arrested by the cops. A few construction men came to her aid, but I think they beat him up too.”. I hoped that he was beaten up bad too. I was also relieved that the police did not bring that evil man to our ED.
As I cut her scrubs, I felt my eyes sting with the tears, which I had to blink away. My heart was in my throat. My hands were shaking. I locked my knees and leaned into the stretcher to prevent myself from falling. Damn it, I had to be strong because I better be the best trauma nurse there is for Anna.
I saw the fear in the staff's eyes. It was surreal to be taking care of one of our own. Anna was the trauma nurse for the day; she just went out for her lunch break and now she was lying down on the same stretcher that she just prepared.
Just like the professionals that we were, the team went to work. The other nurses looked as determined as I was as we all took our positions and did exactly what she taught us to do. Our trauma team worked in sync. The patient was one of our very own.
The ED doctors and the surgeons methodically did their assessments, Airway good, breathing on her own, no pneumothorax, vitals good. FAST was negative. As soon as the IVs were inserted, the tetanus and the antibiotics were given, we had Anna readied for the CT scans. I scooted around to her side and held her hand. Anna squeezed my hand tightly, and I said “We got you.”.
As we passed through the trauma door, several hands reached out to move the stretcher, a few “I love you" from the staff followed Anna into the CT scan. I think everybody held their breaths as we waited for the test results.
The rest of the staff had to return to their own assignments, each one held their emotions in check as they braced against the onslaught of patients demanding their pain medications and complaining about what took the staff too long to attend to their needs. One of our own was hurt, I wanted to yell at the intoxicated patient who called out for more turkey sandwiches.
The results came back. All were negative except for one broken finger when Anna punched back in defense. That’s our Anna. It seemed that the department heaved a collective sigh of relief. We admitted then to our ourselves that we feared the worst, and so we were all thankful and hugged each other.
Anna stayed out only for two weeks, but time was not enough to recover from the emotional trauma. Although she came back physically healthy, her heart was broken. After another month of showing up to work with a forced smile, she finally said her goodbyes. She relocated with her son to California, away from her husband who was in jail, to be with her mother and the rest of the family.
The last I heard, she was back to her old self, a no-nonsense nurse who intimidated the residents and the surgeons in her new hospital. Anna was back.
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