A stunning fall morning. Cool, crisp, and comfortable; the skies so, so clear. The weatherman predicts the high around 70 degrees. The air is so still – it’s hardly moving at all. It’s one of those days that makes you feel glad to be alive. You pat the dog, and kiss your spouse goodbye – what shall I make for dinner tonight, babe?
Hi Ho! It’s off to work you go. You greet your co-workers and share a cup of damn-good joe. You talk about the kids, last night’s TV, and the cases for the day. Then it’s time to hunker in for the next 8 hours; you know the drill. Every one assumes their work positions and the surgeries start rolling.
And then, it happens.
Of course, it can happen any time, any day. And it often does. You are always prepared for it, and yet it is always disturbing, unsettling, and unnerving.
Level One Trauma coming to the Emergency Room. Gunshot would to the head. You run to the ER – the patient is bleeding and unstable. This one’s coming right to the Operating Room, and fast.
Philadelphia just had 2 cops shot in as many days. The second one has just rolled into your OR.
What insanity is this, to be shot in the head while you’re doing your job?
What world is this of guns and bullets, justice and hatred?
What city is this that has the highest murder rate in the country?
Whose father is this who will not be coming home to his wife and kids?
What dinner will he not eat tonight?
What beautiful day will he not enjoy, with all its cloudless splendor and deceptive stillness?
This beautiful day.