Really great educational experience for myself came more from the surrounding conditions involved in handling a dcd donor rather than the actual anatomy in harvesting organs.
Us, the surgeons, were not permitted to even see family members let alone be in the same room as them. All things considered, with respect, it's better that way. Once the donor is taken off life support every second is counted. Certain organs can only handle a certain amount of ischemic time. In this particular case we were going to be procuring the kidneys, which in New York, legally permits up to 60 minutes of warm ischemic time. The Attending I was with didn't think we'd be able to get the kidneys. But the donor went into asystole at around 45 min after withdrawal of care and 5 minutes later to the exact second skin was opened. Kidneys were out, skin was closed, and we were on our way home again about 60 minutes later.
Once I finally made it back to the hospital I grabbed my bag, excitedly told my colleagues in the trauma bay about the experience then headed over to a friends house for some pumpkin cake before heading home!
On the way home at 1am, to my own chagrin, I found myself in line for a spot police check. My story of 'got off work then went to a friend's house' didn't sound good. My red eyes and tired smile didn't look good. And I knew that if asked...I'd have trouble walking in a straight line, also not good. But I just honestly told the officer I hadn't had any alcohol and he waved me along.
There's something that I've been puzzling over the past couple weeks. What makes someone want to be a police officer? Not really sure why I first started pondering the subject, but not having any officer friends myself I've no source of an answer, and therefore have continued to ponder. And last night just made me wonder all the more.
God makes all kinds!
Much Love.
No comments:
Post a Comment