May 29,, 2008
1535
I saw a critical
trauma come in last night—25 y.o. auto versus tree, Glascow Coma Score 1-1-1
fixed/dilated (extricated).
They cracked
the chest in the ER and cross-clamped
the aorta.
He had no
pulse when he came in the OR.
When I first
saw him, I felt ‘this is someone’s son’ and I felt her pain.
He was silent
in the OR.
At conference
he came to me.
His name is
Arthur. He doesn’t know what he is going to do, but he’s happy. He said he saw
my sorrow (everyone up there can see it.) He brought Jesus to me. I felt His
peace upon me.
Now:
My name is
Arturo.
Now I am
happy. My mom she didn’t want me. She yelled at me a lot. She didn’t like my
dad. She will be lots of crying for the news, but in her heart, relief and
unhappy at the expense for my funeral. I had a mean mom, not a nice mom like
you (I saw you two, you and your baby—I was laughing the whole time at how you
struggle with that boy! It was really funny.)
