Disclaimer: In Real Life is a platform for everyday people to share their experiences and voices. All articles are personal stories and do not necessarily echo In Real Life’s sentiments.
From Inside the Accident & Emergency Department
Doctors see a lot of things. Accident and emergency (A&E) doctors see far more than most of us would like to think about or imagine.
These are the stories from the A&E front-liners, who reveal the funniest and saddest cases and patients they have treated thus far.
The Mother of ‘Possessed’ Stupidity
They brought their daughter into A&E just after midnight, and the parents claimed their daughter was not physically ill but possessed, as in possessed by a “roh” or “shaitan,” or some other form of spirit.
Incredibly, the Imam they brought to their home to perform an exorcism told them to bring their daughter to a doctor and called “999” for an ambulance. The parents, however, refused to believe it was a real medical emergency and stuck to their claim that their daughter was possessed.
Their daughter was quickly diagnosed with diabetes, and as a result of their negligence, she collapsed due to low blood sugar. She had a seizure, and then further slipped into a coma.All medical evidence, tests, and diagnostics were ignored in favor of an explanation involving demons and possession.
In the end, a senior doctor overruled the parents and administered treatment. Hospital security was called to keep the parents from interfering, and finally, the police were called to investigate.
This was almost 20 years ago, and I don’t know how it turned out, but I hope that little girl is okay now.
Futile Inevitability
I still remember him. It was September 11, 2001. But that’s not why he sticks in my mind. He was the first patient I would lose, and there was nothing anyone could do to save him.
He was a nice guy—polite, cheerful, and friendly. I remember that he apologized for wasting my time. “Kacau perut saja,” he said to me. His stomach was tender all around, but I did the usual patient work-up.
I proposed a diagnostic plan that my superiors approved, which included bloodwork and a CT scan.
We both thought he was starting to have that “I’m sick” look about him.
I’m not a radiologist, but I looked at the scans and saw something was wrong. The radiologist and supervisor concurred, and we had a diagnosis: pneumatosis intestinalis.In simple terms: gas in the intestinal lining
The scan revealed that all his intestines were dying or already dead as blood clots formed in his bloodstream. Bloodwork revealed that his organs were failing. Modern medicine could do nothing; he would die of multi-system organ failure.
It was the first time I had told a patient they were going to die. He called his mother, father, and siblings.
His family was gathered by his bedside as he slipped into a coma some seven hours later.
A few hours later, I remember hearing the mother’s wail of agony and pain as her son died while she held his hand.
Time has marched on, and other patients have died. I’ve had other terminal diagnoses and dealt with the unexpected, the bloody, the wretched, and the traumatic.He was my first death as a doctor, and the worst one: he came in walking, talking, and laughing, and all we could offer was pain relief—the harsh reality that death was coming—then watch helpless and hopeless as he died.
Stitches Over Language
Late one morning, a father brought in his son and nephew, ages 3 and 5. They were playing with model planes and having mock air-to-air fights. It was just two kids being kids, chasing each other around the pool.
Then one plane “dive-bombed” and hit the nephew in the groin. Even the parents were not sure how this happened. But the nephew was holding a towel over his groin, with tear marks down his cheeks, not saying anything. We took the nephew into an exam room, and we got permission to treat the wound from the propeller blade of the plane. Unfortunately, the wound in question was at the base of his penis.We had to clean out the wound, which would need just a few stitches and, of course, the tetanus shot. The shot was smooth. The nephew didn’t make a sound. Then we heard the shout that shattered the peace of A&E that quiet Sunday morning: “MOTHERFU$KER! THAT HURTS!”
It seemed that somebody had forgotten the anesthetic…
At that moment, everyone stopped, and there was a pin-drop silence in A&E. The gurneys stopped moving, and patients wondered what that was about. Then the entire department just burst into laughter.
Dad was laughing too and told him between the guffaws, “This time, I won’t tell mom.”
To Die Alone
I was the doctor on the ward that night when an older woman was brought in by ambulance for pneumonia. She had advance directives (Do Not Resuscitate Order), and we knew the end was coming for her.
The team spent hours on the phone trying to reach this woman’s family, and it took almost five hours to reach her only daughter. There was indifference to her mother’s plight.
The daughter’s explanation was cold: “The woman, lying in that hospital bed, disowned me because I married outside “our” race. She denied me my father’s inheritance and cut me out of her will. I have not been a daughter, or her family for five years. I don’t care what happens to her. Please do not call me again.”
I refused to judge her without knowing the whole story, only having a small piece of it. Ours is to treat and heal, not to cast judgment. I never told the nurses what I knew, but I organized it so she would always have someone with her, even when she was transferred from A&E to a ward.When I checked in on her, the nurses were playing P. Ramlee music, taking turns to sit with her in shifts until she passed away at 9 a.m. the following day. Her family never showed up. I don’t know who claimed her remains.
It is not our place to judge but to help, heal, and comfort until the end.
Raped out of High School
She was fifteen or sixteen. She was walking home from school when she was attacked, knocked unconscious, dragged into an alleyway, and raped. Tme has dulled and blurred the patients I have treated and the lives I have saved. Time has not dulled the memory of the first rape victim I had to treat.
Treat is such a misnomer.
She was awake, alert, and oriented, screaming in terror and fear whenever any male went near her. The ambulance crew was lucky; she had been disoriented during transport. They called me in from pediatrics to help her because I was the closest available female doctor to the scene.
I remember her parents more vividly. Her mother tried her hardest not to cry, trying to call extended family for help and support. Her father. A tall man, switching between the extremes: Vowing to kill the rapist and asking the nurses what he could do for his daughter.
There was so much pain in his eyes when his daughter saw him and recoiled in absolute terror, screaming. Understand that she was doing that to every male presence, even a male voice. She cried as the female police officer and nurses collected evidence and the rape kit. They even took her uniform, leaving her nothing but a hospital gown to wear.
She was moved to the psychiatric ward: She could have a private room and the support of a therapist.I hope that justice was served and that she lives a good life now. I don’t know what happened after she was transferred from A&E.
Bright Lights and a Broken Glass.
It was the night of the 2018 World Cup: France had defeated Croatia 4-2. I was working the A&E graveyard shift because I don’t follow football. He was brought in with wounds to his arms, chest, and cheek. These were not cuts or scrapes but deep jagged lacerations.
Apparently, he had been watching the World Cup Finals, drinking, and his team (Croatia) lost. Drunk and angry, he had tried to start a barroom blitz. His attempt was quickly stymied when he was smashed over the head with a half-full bottle of whiskey.
His wounds occurred not because he was beaten up but because he fell straight through a loaded glass drinks table. We spent an hour flushing out his wounds and picking out the glass before we could even start stitching him up.The interns got plenty of practice using forceps and stitching. This guy needed about 60 of them! Fortunately, his alcohol consumption and whiskey bottle to the head kept him unconscious until we were done stitching him up. The follow-up CT confirmed “a head harder than stone” and a concussion for his trouble.
Doctors in Accident and Emergency Departments See A Lot
Doctors see a lot of things. Accident and Emergency (A&E) doctors see far more than most would like to think about or imagine.
It’s arguably one of the most mentally demanding medical professions. Accident & Emergency means they see only the worst when patients are brought in, broken and battered. They rarely see or know the ending, be it good or bad.
They are the unknown heroes of every hospital.
Do you know anyone with an interesting story to share? Drop us an email at hello@inreallife.my and we may feature the story.
For more stories like this, read:
Does Your Doctor Make You Feel Uncomfortable? Here’s What You Can Do About It
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