The rhythms

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Cycle of life

Submitted: March 31, 2008

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Submitted: March 31, 2008

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Rhythm.

 

And 1 and 2 and 3 and 4 and….

 

The up and down motion of the medical technician performing CPR in the chaotic code situation is all but forgotten.

 

The resident calls for another dose of epinephrine and the nurses scramble around each other as they attach monitors, defibrillators.  It seems like so much chaos.

 

But at the center, rhythm.  The up and down motion of the medical technician performing CPR providing life preserving blood to the coronary arteries and brain.  Nothing else matters.

 

My mind drifts backwards as the code continues, now little hope of recovery.  The patient, an elderly man, had come to the hospital for diarrhea.  He was weak, gaunt, unable to stand.  So sick yet only now willing to submit.

 

Mild tachycardia, potassium of 3.0, I think he will be okay.

 

Intravenous fluids given.

 

EKG shows sinus rhythm and then, Doctor report to bedside stat.

 

Rhythm.  The up and down motion of the medical technician performing CPR and the rhythmic motion brings me back and holds the center of the room.  Rhythm always does that.  Without rhythm there is no life.  Fetal cardiac activity, rhythmic uterine contractions, birth into life.  Life is chaos but underneath there is always the rhythm and we go on.

 

Hold CPR.  Asystole.  And the rhythm is gone. 

 

Another life has passed.

 

Time of death 1929, I will talk to the family.

 

Rhythm.


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