The Unlikely Heroine

Here lately, it has occurred to me that I’m losing my ability to empathize with some of our patients. Many of you who read my blog are doctors or nurses, and you’ve all undoubtedly experienced this at some point in your careers. The very limited and indirect capacity in which I deal with patients means it’s taken a bit longer for me to realize that I’ve become desensitized. Frankly, it disturbs me. Today, however, I came across a chart that has reminded me of what it is we’re all here to do, regardless of the role we play in doing it. I’d like to share the story with you now.

Friends, readers - meet Susie.

Susie is a 21-year-old homemaker and mother of two. Like you and me, Susie enjoys the occasional glass of Hennessy and meeting men in the club. And why shouldn’t she? No man (or woman) is an island, right? She works hard and needs to cut loose a few nights a week, just like everybody else. But Susie has a secret, a real problem that kept her from her usual activities Tuesday night. And it’s not a problem I think anyone should take lightly.

Susie has no lungs.

That’s right. What you and I take for granted, Susie wishes she had, more than almost anything else in the world. When she presented to our emergency room yesterday morning, she was feeling a little short of breath, a likely result of having no way of moving air into or out of her body. Where the rest of us have a fully-functioning, complete respiratory system, my friend Susie has a void that she’d very much like to fill. You see, her lungs were taken from her during a routine tonsillectomy a few weeks ago by a surgeon who – I’m guessing – didn’t realize his mistake until poor Susie’s lungs were in a tray at her bedside. By then, it was too late to put them back in their rightful place. Susie went home that afternoon distraught over the loss of her body’s most efficient method of moving oxygen into her bloodstream. But Susie’s a fighter. She didn’t let her missing lungs hold her down, no sir! By midweek, she mustered the courage and the strength to rejoin her compadres on the club circuit. Hell, she may have managed to squeeze in some quality time with her kids! What a gal!

Unfortunately, it’s that gumption of which I speak that led to Susie’s downfall. How could she have possibly known that, in a humid, smoke-filled club, the absence of her lungs would interfere with her ability to have a good time? The pain must’ve been excruciating. I mean, can you imagine being in that environment without any lungs? Folks, I’ve played in bars where there is plenty of smoke, and I have two lungs and find it difficult to breathe well into the next day sometimes. In her position, I’d have called for an ambulance, too.

Fortunately, our doctors and nurses were here to help her. Not by giving her new lungs, of course, although that would’ve been the ideal solution. As she lay helplessly on the stretcher, she summoned the last dregs of strength left in her pain-addled body and motioned for her doctor. Sensing the urgency, he stopped in the middle of an intubation and rushed to her side.

Her strength was fading fast. She looked up at him with those doleful eyes, which were brimming with tears. The doctor squeezed her hand in his, hoping she still had enough in her to make one last request.

“What is it, Susie?” he asked.
 
Feebly, she croaked, “I need… I need…“

“Come on, Susie, you can beat this! I know you can, and I’m going to help you. I just need to know what it is you need.”

“I… need…“

“Yes?”

“Percocet.“

In the interest of time, I will truncate the remainder of the story. Susie did not get the Percocet her body so sorely needed, but that didn’t preclude a happy ending: fifteen minutes, a liter of saline and a work excuse later, she was right as rain.
 
Tell me that doctors and nurses aren’t miracle workers, and I’m positive Susie will tell you otherwise.

Truly, I am inspired.