May 29,, 2008
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.
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.)