Working in the ER, I thought I saw everything. I've seen babies come into this world; I've seen the elderly die. I've seen the hopeless find hope, and dreams disintegrated. But I wasn't prepared for what I saw today.
It began as an abnormal day in the ER. It was raining cats and dogs, and few people left their houses unless it was necessary. There were no patients, for once the board was empty.
He was in the bathroom when his father came in. Carter always had problems with his parents. His grandparents also, but he was forgiven when he was nearly killed last year.
~*~
"Please, I need a doctor." We all turned around when we heard the voice behind us.
He was about fifty-five years old, and his dark brown hair was streaked with gray. His hand was covered with blood.
"What's your name sir?" Luka said, stepping forward.
"Roland Carter." The man said. The look in the eyes of those who knew Carter since he was a med student told the rest of us.
"Are you related to Doctor John Carter?" Malucci asked slowly. Mr. Carter's eyes darkened.
"Yes, he's my son but I don't want to see him.
Luka led him to the suture room, and the rest of us just stared at each other. Carter's father.
"What's wrong?" Everybody looked at Carter with hesitation in their eyes. Do we tell him or keep quiet?
"Carter, your-" Malucci began, and Dr. Weaver started to yell. "I'm sorry Chief, but he deserves to know." He said to Dr. Weaver. Turning back to Carter he said, "Your father came in. Luka is with him now. He said he didn't want to see you." Carter looked shocked, and all the pain of an abandoned child was showing in his eyes.
All was quiet for a few minutes; everyone lost in their own reverie. Suddenly, the paramedics burst in the door.
"Eighteen year old female GSW." As the EMTs gave the bullet, the doctors and nurses jumped into action. She was brought into Trauma One, which had a window looking into the Suture room.
As we fought to save the young woman, we were aware that Carter's father was watching us, disbelief in his eyes.
She went flat line, and we began to shock her heart, doing CPR. An hour passed, and we knew she was lost.
"Time of Death, 16:42." Carter said numbly, walking away from the gurney. He ripped the yellow bloodstained gown and bloody gloves and threw them in the bloody waste barrel. Doing the same, I followed him and chased him to the lounge.
"Carter!" I called, and he turned around.
"Are you okay?" I asked worriedly, and he nodded.
"Yeah, but I somehow feel like I let my father down." He said, and I looked confused.
"He's always looked down on my career, and I feel that by losing that patient I showed that I'm not as good as he thought I was." I understood.
"John." We looked behind me and saw Mr. Carter standing there, the stitches on hand bandaged.
"Is there somewhere were we can talk in private?" Mr. Carter asked, and John nodded and led him to exam one.
I smiled. It looked like they would have some reconciliation, and finally find some happiness.
It began as an abnormal day in the ER. It was raining cats and dogs, and few people left their houses unless it was necessary. There were no patients, for once the board was empty.
He was in the bathroom when his father came in. Carter always had problems with his parents. His grandparents also, but he was forgiven when he was nearly killed last year.
~*~
"Please, I need a doctor." We all turned around when we heard the voice behind us.
He was about fifty-five years old, and his dark brown hair was streaked with gray. His hand was covered with blood.
"What's your name sir?" Luka said, stepping forward.
"Roland Carter." The man said. The look in the eyes of those who knew Carter since he was a med student told the rest of us.
"Are you related to Doctor John Carter?" Malucci asked slowly. Mr. Carter's eyes darkened.
"Yes, he's my son but I don't want to see him.
Luka led him to the suture room, and the rest of us just stared at each other. Carter's father.
"What's wrong?" Everybody looked at Carter with hesitation in their eyes. Do we tell him or keep quiet?
"Carter, your-" Malucci began, and Dr. Weaver started to yell. "I'm sorry Chief, but he deserves to know." He said to Dr. Weaver. Turning back to Carter he said, "Your father came in. Luka is with him now. He said he didn't want to see you." Carter looked shocked, and all the pain of an abandoned child was showing in his eyes.
All was quiet for a few minutes; everyone lost in their own reverie. Suddenly, the paramedics burst in the door.
"Eighteen year old female GSW." As the EMTs gave the bullet, the doctors and nurses jumped into action. She was brought into Trauma One, which had a window looking into the Suture room.
As we fought to save the young woman, we were aware that Carter's father was watching us, disbelief in his eyes.
She went flat line, and we began to shock her heart, doing CPR. An hour passed, and we knew she was lost.
"Time of Death, 16:42." Carter said numbly, walking away from the gurney. He ripped the yellow bloodstained gown and bloody gloves and threw them in the bloody waste barrel. Doing the same, I followed him and chased him to the lounge.
"Carter!" I called, and he turned around.
"Are you okay?" I asked worriedly, and he nodded.
"Yeah, but I somehow feel like I let my father down." He said, and I looked confused.
"He's always looked down on my career, and I feel that by losing that patient I showed that I'm not as good as he thought I was." I understood.
"John." We looked behind me and saw Mr. Carter standing there, the stitches on hand bandaged.
"Is there somewhere were we can talk in private?" Mr. Carter asked, and John nodded and led him to exam one.
I smiled. It looked like they would have some reconciliation, and finally find some happiness.