The leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations

12:59 The phone ringing beside my bed startled me out of a deep sleep. The nurse on medicine was calling for bed 8, a teenage boy who had been admitted several days prior with a hemoglobin of 3.9 in the setting of an unknown bleeding disorder. Apparently the boy would periodically have nosebleeds at home throughout his life that somehow his family had previously managed to stop. Hemophilia A? B? Von Willebrand disease? Hereditary Hemorrhagic Telangectasia? We will never know in this country. I found him laying on the ground with the nasal tampon in his R nare that I had placed 2 days prior and blood steadily dripping from his L nare now. He was snarfing and crying. I shoved a new nasal tampon in the other nare and blew it up as much as he could tolerate. Then I turned to the father and asked how many bags of blood his son had received since admission. He sheepishly looked around, and I turned to the nurse who reported he had still only gotten the one bag of blood we gave him from

Gabriel’s first blog!!!   Two little girls came to the hospital today. I saw the first one being extracted from her mom’s womb. The team tried to wake her up, get her to breath, b ut it never happened. She did not breath the air of this world. She will never suffer abuse from her peers, or need to forgive or be forgiven. Babys are born fine, no guilty or sin attached, heaven will be full of babies. The second girl, a young school girl, just arrived in the hospital, bleeding profusely from her vagina. The family claims it was caused by an insect, the doctor just told the nurse that the little girl was probably raped. They often have these stories. Hopefully the police can be called if they find evidence. Even if forgiveness happens, its scars will remain forever. Two ladies were the ones mistreated and verbally assaulted by an angry hospital worker. Now the disrespectful yelling was happening in front of my house’s porch. This attitude is unacceptable and if we don’t do anything I might

  Companion Hurry, hurry, were we going to make it in time? Hurry, hurry, she had been pushing for several hours before I received a call from the night nurse on maternity that the fetal head was no longer advancing.  Hurry, hurry, call the mechanician to start the generator, call the nurse anesthetist to do the spinal, call the nurse to first assist. Hurry, hurry, get her IVs in, fluid running, labs drawn, foley placed, abdomen scrubbed. Make the cuts, get the baby out, stop the bleeding. Sew the layers, oh wow, were we going to make it in time? Hurry, hurry! The moment I finished closing the fascia, I turned the needle driver over to my assist and fled the OR as fast as I could. I wasn’t sure if it was the vomit or the diarrhea I felt welling up inside of me who would win. Hurry! Hurry! As fast as I could, I hobbled home to the toilet that would be a close companion for the next few days. Illnesses are ever pressing close to us here. Thankfully, since doctors usually make horrible pa