Day 135: Realities of War

There are some subjects learned during medical school that can never truly be taught in the classroom--rather they need to be experienced firsthand. Death is one of those things. During the first 2 years of medical school, emphasis is placed on how to treat patients and keep them alive. It isn't until the 3rd year, once you start really taking care of patients, that you are faced with caring for patients who don't survive, despite providing them all that modern medicine has to offer. It is always a humbling experience to see someone you have cared for pass away--reminding you of our inherent mortality.

I remember well my first patient that died. We had admitted a 55 year old man to the ICU with what we thought was likely septic shock (translation = bad). At the time of admission, he was struggling but was able to talk and interact with us. Within 24 hours, he was dead--having died of overwhelming pneumococcal sepsis. I will always remember this case for the rapidity of his passing and the overwhelming resources invested in his life that ultimately could not cure him. There have been many patients since, who I have watched pass from this life to the next. Some of the deaths have been blessings, ending years of suffering, while others have been shocking and tragic.

Afghanistan has been cursed with centuries of war and death. This evening was my first experience in seeing the horrible effects of war firsthand. Let me share a little of the experience with you. We had traveled all day, arriving at a police training base in Shouz. There is a small medical clinic there that provides basic first aid and care for minor illnesses. One problem with the clinic is that there are no Afghan doctors or nurses to staff the facility. Around 8PM I was called and told that the Afghan Army was outside the gate with one of their soldiers who had been shot. Now this clinic is really no place to take care of a gunshot victim. However, there really is no other medical facility around and I guess the Afghans figured the Americans might be their best bet to get some help. They brought their soldier through the gate in the back of a pick-up truck and carried him into the clinic.

I will spare you the details, but basically his wounds were severe enough that by the time he was lying in front of us, he had already passed away. In a way, it probably was a blessing that he had passed as we didn't have the ability or resources to deal with his injuries. It wasn't the first time I had seen death or even a violent death for that matter. However, it was the first time I had experienced and witnessed the violence that the Afghan people have been experiencing for such a long time. It saddened me that people are so cruel and hateful. I felt for the children of this country that know nothing else other than what I saw tonight. It made this war much more real for me. Hopefully, this will be the last time I have to face the realities of war--I suspect it may not be. However, I am strengthened by this and the experiences that I have had before that have taught me that death is a part of life and of that great Plan that has been developed for each of us.

The clinic in Shouz

This is Chief Hill--one of the guys I was working with down in Shouz