When I ventilate
His blood spatters from his ear
Onto the backboard
The crimson river
Continues to grow in size
Despite our efforts
The blood does not stop
It flows off of the gurney
Pouring to the floor
When the ambu stops
A puddle of red expands
Under the unit
His death is pronounced
The doctor knows it's futile
We gave it our best
*****
Quite a mess, not only the Haiku, but the call itself. Massive, multi-system trauma along with a crushed melon. It would appear that the helmet was not up to what it was asked to do.
The truck driver, who was stopped at the time, said that the impact shook his truck. It appears that the motorcyclist was traveling at a high rate of speed at the time of impact, the witnesses said that he was flying.
Not any more.
Thanks for reading,
Schmoe
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