9/11 Repost

My dream is always the same. It’s just another day in hell. I stand on the Bone Marrow Transplant unit. There are no windows. Suddenly the building starts to shake. The ceiling cracks letting in rays of sunlight. The ground rumbles below. Sadness, grief, and despair spew from the floor. They rise as black lava erupting from the innards of the building and drag me to the street. I am swept forward as black death encompasses the earth and moves to envelop the sun. It carries me to the east, always to the east. * I've never thrown a punch. Never been in a fight or carried a gun. So if you ask me what it is like to do battle…I only have a limited set of experiences to draw from. I did, however, catch a glimpse of the desperation of war during residency when I spent a month in the Bone Marrow Transplant unit. I felt continuously under fire, attacked from all sides, desperate. I experienced death every day. It wasn't just the elderly. It was also the young. Mothers, fathers, children, no one was spared! * The Bone Marrow Transplant program during residency was large. There were fifty patients on the unit and then thirty scattered amongst the oncology floors. We had ten admissions a day, and the same number of discharges. On average one patient died every shift. The job of taking care of these patients fell on two fellows, two residents, one attending physician, and countless dedicated nurses. There are many beautiful life affirming stories that occur on a Bone...
Source: In My Humble Opinion - Category: Family Physicians Authors: Source Type: blogs