I work in a free health clinic in Mexico on a monthly basis. The people are lovely, the patients are gentle, and nearly all of it is done under a generally calm state.
But today there was this patient, who was brought in under emergency conditions, a cardiac arrest. He entered the clinic and CPR began before he could even enter the doors.
Oxygen levels began at 88; the required amount of levels maintained in a human body is 99+. By 30 minutes, the oxygen levels were at 38. The EMT’s already called it at this time, but our doctor looked at them and said, “No, we’re going to keep doing this.”
I suppose my biggest question for the doctor I work with was how he got up when it was over, still managed to look around at all of the students and other professionals, and yet immediately return back to work.
My biggest fear was how everyone, like clockwork, returned back to their duties despite witnessing this firsthand - yet I couldn’t find any sort of emotion to place onto this entire situation.
To be a doctor means to understand that life, all life, comes to a definitive end. To be a doctor means explaining this concept to the family in the waiting room.