Knowing

I remember it like it was yesterday
10 AM, and I didnʼt know my way
It was my first time and my heart was racing
I entered the room where everyone was pacing

I quickly realized that I wasnʼt alone
the room was packed, there were people on the phone
But maybe it would be better if there werenʼt so many
Cause now theyʼll all know that Iʼm not worth a penny

I donʼt know what Iʼm doing. Have I learned anything?
I hope so ʻcause here comes the patient and Iʼm on the left wing
Heʼs moved to the bed, and that is when I see
True Fear, its in this boy, now Iʼm glad that Iʼm me

Then it all begins the shifting the clatter
Saving this young manʼs life is all that matters
But is that all I ask as I look in his eyes
Heʼs scared not knowing whether he lives or dies

And thatʼs when those words came so loud and clear
“Am I going to be okay?” He had let out his fear
Knowing is what really mattered to him
What was happening ?, was his future bright or dim

Truth is, the small stab wound to his back
was not life threatening, just a small pneumothorax
So we continued our work and started to place,
a chest tube on the left, now the fear increased in his face

And thatʼs when two people came to his side
Trauma nurse 1 and 2 were there if he cried
They gave him their hands and told him to squeeze
Their other hands were placed softly above his knees

I even remember when their foreheads touched
It was almost as if this boy was never loved so much
He now knew that he would be okay
His fears had fallen like the sun at the end of day

Physically everything was performed just right
And as important, he now knew his future was bright
Iʼll never forget that very first time
A teenage boy too young for such a crime

He taught me what matters and what he wanted to hear
It was anything, anything that could wash away his fear
So never forget what things really matter
And before all the chaos and all of the clatter

Talk to them softly, and let them know
Youʼre there and youʼll help them, you wonʼt let them go

- W. Austin Smith, 2012

3 Poems from the Wards

Can I Have a Moment of Your Time?
Running, running, running.
On five hours of sleep
Awake before the rise of dawn,
Beaten and brutalized
From the day before.
A long day
In surgery for 4-8 hours
Then on the wards
With minutes on infinity
Draining like the sand
In an hourglass.
But what am I doing here?
Why doesn’t anyone
Explain? Explain? Explain?
It’s dark
And I feel alone
I feel pain
Inside and out
Confident that no one cares
Because no one will explain.
But alas, I’m wrong.
The medical student cares
She checks on me everyday
Sometimes more than once
Sometimes to listen to my heart
Sometimes just to talk.
She listens to my pain
Because my pain is her pain.
My loneliness and confusion are hers
My heart is her heart.

Non- Accidental Trauma
I don’t want to die.
They don’t want me to live.
You go away!
Please don’t leave me!
I want my mommy.
My mommy did this to me.
I can feel my heart failing.
I can see the light.
Please save me!
I will save you!
I want to live.
In you, we will live.
Thank you for my life.
You’re welcome.

The Interior Decorator
Run down old building
Still inhabited by original tenants.
It’s dark to enter
Need light to start the work.
We need a coat of fresh red paint
To brighten the walls
Or to keep the lung adherent to the pleura.
Take out the old,
The gangrenous gallbladder
The calcified valves.
Tidy up what’s left
By getting rid of debris
And tossing out what no longer fits-
Edematous, inflamed, and neoplastic.
Rework the electricity and the plumbing
With nerve grafts
Arterial bypass
Gastrointestinal anastamoses.
Furnish it new
With gortex, mesh,
And the heart of a donor.
All in a day’s work
For the interior decorator.

-Sharon Chow, 2012