The two words every doctor dreaded hearing were Mass casualties. Those words signified a lot of negative feelings like pain, sadness, anger, hopelessness, loss, and worst of all death. The whole trauma unit had been cleared of the pre-existing patients to accommodate people who were being brought in, due to a building collapse that occurred an hour ago.

Ambulances dashed in and out of the hospital, delivering critically wounded people. The building belonged to a local high school. It was on every news station, newspaper, and radio station. It turned out that the foundation of the school was not solid and had collapsed. Some of our doctors were dispatched to the site of the casualty to deliver onsite immediate medical attention while the rest of us remained in the hospital to receive the incoming patients.

The hospital was in a state of pandemonium with doctors running around the place trying to help as many patients as possible. Patients were wheeled into the hospital every minute. Relatives of the affected flooded in and out, trying to find their loved ones. It was just terrible. I remained at the hospital because of my pregnant state. That way I could help people the best I could in a safe and stable condition. The hospital was reaching its max and soon enough, the ambulances would have to be redirected to other hospitals in New York.

"Aaaaarrrrhhhhh!" A teenage girl in bay 3 screamed out in pain.

She was wheeled in all bloody and hysteric due to the trauma. We administered some nerve blockers to reduce the pain she was feeling and sent her up for imaging to get a clear look at things before we go in for surgery. From the looks of it, during the course of the collapse, her left hand and right leg had been crushed due to weight.

With a limited amount of time and doctors, we had to speed things up. There were no assignments, it was a 'help as many as you stumble upon' situation. I made to move to attend to the next patient I could find but was stopped by a big, middle-aged woman. Her eyes were wide. Her dishevelled straight brown hair revealed signs of repetitive tugging and tossing. She had a firm grip on my forearm but through the sleeves of my navy blue inner tee, I felt her trembles.

I tugged off my bloodied gloves, balled them up in one hand and used the other to hold onto her upper arm. "How can I help you, ma'am?"

She parted her lips and then shut them as she glanced around her. Another bloodied patient wheeled past with two doctors yelling orders as they sprinted. Her shaky pupils followed the gurney to the elevator. Her trembling hand left my arm and travelled to the base of her pale neck.

"Ma'am. Look at me" I gave her arm a gentle squeeze. "Come with me"

With a strong hold on her arm, we meandered past the chaos and luckily, found an empty chair in the waiting room. I thrashed the soiled gloves in my palm into a nearby trash can. Then, I applied a decent amount of hand sanitiser, which I carried around in my pocket.

She sent a sweeping glance around her before settling on me. "M- My daughter... she goes to that high school." She pushed her fingers into her hair and tugged at the roots then massaged her scalp. "I can't find her... I don't know wh- where to look,"

I nodded, my hands rubbing circles on her shoulders. "Calm down, ma'am. What's her name?"

She craned her neck and attempted to rise from the chair as a gurney with doctors wheeled past. "I don't know if she's in- injured or..."

In this situation, these types of cases occur. With afflicted patients transported to different hospitals across the state, the relatives of affected patients tended to flock in and out of hospitals, looking for their loved ones. It was a really terrible time.

I reduced myself to a squat to reach her eye level. I took her hand, placed my two fingers against her broad wrist and applied a little pressure. "What's your name, ma'am?"

She steadied her eyes on mine and swallowed. "Abigail. Abigail smith"

I nodded. "Okay, Abigail. Your pulse is racing, I'm going to need you to take in deep breaths and try to calm down. I need your daughter's name so I can find out where she is, okay?"

She gave me slow, repetitive nods and inhaled a deep breath. "Okay. Her name is Lydia. She's fifteen years old"

"Okay. I'll be right back with information. But in the meantime, deep breaths, okay?" I placed my hands on the wooden armrest of the chair and slowly lifted myself up. Ugh, shock waves. I could feel the blood flowing back into my legs. "Uh, can I get you a cup of water?"

She released a shaky breath and nodded.

"Okay, I'll be back soon" I gave the air light kicks before pushing my legs forward.

Ten minutes later, I returned to the waiting room with a list of hospitals that victims were usually taken to in this type of situation. It turned out that her daughter wasn't brought into this hospital. Her pulse had returned to normal by the time I got back and she was in much better shape to resume her search.

I glanced around the waiting room. It was packed with people who were looking for loved ones. People who had their children in surgery and hoping for them to be alright. People who had just lost their loved ones.

The room was a medley of hope, despair, devastation and disarray. I couldn't begin to imagine the pain they felt or how scared they were. My child wasn't even born yet and I couldn't imagine being in this situation, wondering if he was okay while his life may be hanging in the balance. I rubbed away the goosebumps that had covered my arm. It may have taken me a while to accept this pregnancy but I couldn't imagine my life without my baby.

I need to help these people. I turned away from the waiting room and headed over to the nurse station. I'm going to need a lot of those lists.

A nurse handed me more copies of the list of people who had been brought into the hospital. Grabbing two interns with me, I headed back to the waiting room. I used my hand to guard my belly as I weaved through the crowded area. Carefully, I climbed on top of a wooden stool so I could have some vocal leverage and be visible

"Can I have your attention, please?" I yelled at the top of my lungs. The room gradually got quiet and many pairs of eyes fixated on me.

"I'm Dr Amanda and I'm terribly sorry about what has happened today. I cannot begin to imagine what you all must be going through" I began. "I have a list of people who have been brought into the hospital and their status, so you can be aware of what's going on." I waved the papers in my hand.

"I have two interns with me for efficiency," I said and pointed at the interns; a male and a female. "If you know that you're loved one has been admitted into this hospital. Kindly meet that lady and she'll let you know what's going on." I gestured to the female intern situated at the left corner of the room and waited until there were some real movements in the crowd.

Okay, good.

"If you know that you're loved one is not here but you don't know where else to go, please meet the guy over there. He has copies of possible hospitals they could be in," I gestured to the male intern across the room on the right and part of the crowd dispersed.

"And lastly, if you don't know whether you're loved ones are here or not, I have a list of people who have been admitted into this hospital. If the names of your loved ones aren't on this list, it means they could be in any of the other hospitals" I said to the little crowd that remained rooted in front of me.

"And if anything changes, it will be posted on that notice board," I added, pointing in the direction of a wooden rimmed, black notice board.

I got down from the wooden stool with care. A wave of dizziness swept through me and I grabbed unto the backrest of a chair and blinked it back. I'm going to need to sit down after this. Once the ground stopped copying the movements of a swimming pool, I began to hand out the papers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Administering 3mg of Propofol," the anesthesiologist recited as he injected the general anaesthesia into the patient's IV line.

"Scalpel" Dr Park, the neurologist held out his palm and the scrub nurse handed it to him. "Making an incision," He made a neat cut on the scalp of the patient. He lifted the skin and muscle and folded it back.

Then he created small burr holes in the skull with a drill. With a cranitome (a special saw), he made an outline of a bone window which was lifted up to expose the Dura (the protective covering of the brain). Retractors were used to open a window between the brain and the skull.

"Dr Amanda, apply saline," he voice out and the nurse handed it to me.

"Applying saline to the brain," I recited as I applied it. This was to reduce the intracranial pressure of the brain as the brain had swollen due to head trauma

Dr Park continued to operate on the brain of the patient. He removed a piece of hematoma (clotted blood) from the brain and the intracranial pressure monitor went off and the patient's brain began to bleed. Okay, it's 'need for speed' time.

"Suction," Dr Park said to the first assistant nurse.

The whirring sound of blood being sucked away from the brain joined that of the beeping machine. "Oxygen levels are dropping," the first assistant nurse stated and my eyes darted from the patient's skull to the monitor.

The circulating nurse hung up a bag of blood and connected it to the patient's intravenous line. Dr Park's eyes meticulously scanned the bleeding site, his steady hands suspended over the open skull. His mask constricted and relaxed, indicating stable breathing. I returned my eyes to the brain and focused on the site.

"The blood is coming from underneath that area" I gestured to the left portion of the brain.

"Uh-huh," his eyes didn't leave the brain. "Hold on, I've found the bleeder. Clamps" Dr Park held out his hands to the scrub nurse.

Once the bleeder was clamped, the monitor returned to normal and silence settled over the room. There was a collective release of sighs and an exchange of swift glances before the surgery proceeded.

Dr Park instructed me to close up, after ensuring there were no other clots and brain activity was good. Then he scrubbed out to see other patients. The retractors were taken out and I closed the Dura with sutures and the bone flap that had earlier been removed with titanium plates and screws. The muscles and skin are sutured back together and a soft adhesive dressing was placed over the incision.

The OR doors swung shut behind me as I rotatedmy stiff neck and kneaded my shoulders with my fingers. The surgery was asuccess. The day may have ended on a good notefor me but I couldn't say the same for the people seated in the waiting roomwith faces drained of emotion eyes and sank shoulders. I said a littleprayer in my heart, for those who needed comfort and peace, now more than ever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please VOTE, COMMENT and SHARE