Day 2-Sunday part 2

I spent Sunday doing what I could as an OR nurse. Without an anesthesia machine, endotracheal tubes, pulse oximetry, cardiac monitoring, oxygen, suction, or even a proper BP cuff, there wasn't much for me to do but take inaccurate manual BPs and a radial pulse. The anesthetist did what he could with spinal anesthesia and ketamine. The Supernatural Anesthetist. He did well, much of the time. Our Ortho surgeon fixed femurs, tibias and a humerus or two. I started an IV in the ER in a man with a large, bloody bandage around his head. I left later after I realized he was in agonal respirations and no-one was going to do anything. I kept looking at him and thinking "he's really sick." "He's REALLY sick. He needs help." "Can't one of our docs see what's under that bandage and do something?"
Oh yeah. There isn't anything to do. If he's bleeding that badly from that much of his head... There's no ICP monitoring, no pressors. If they cut a window in his skull to relieve the pressure, the flies will take up residence there, too. The feeling of helplessness is still with me.
Failure to prevent the inevitable. No attempt at clearly futile heroics. Powerlessness. Humility. Faith. Grounding.
I'll get over it, but I know his stridor will echo in my ears for a little while.