Post by FicWriter on Jan 5, 2009 3:32:06 GMT 10
Experience
(A ficlet written for the quote: "Experience: that most brutal of teachers. But you learn, my God do you learn.” C. S. Lewis." in the community Artistic License on Live Journal."
by JD
They'd been without water for over a week, without power, except what could be gained from several small generators for almost as long, supplies were increasingly scarce, and still the casualties came. The hospital staff had been pushed to their limits for longer then that, but what could they do? Doctor, Intern, Resident, Nurse, or Aide, their titles no longer mattered, all that mattered now was providing the best care they could to those who needed it.
The latest wave of casualties were victims of a sniper who had opened fire on a civilians standing in a bread queue. Old men, women, children, it hadn't mattered, all had been targets and those who had survived were brought into the already overflowing hospital.
"Luka, take the little girl." Dr. Bajic jerked his head toward a man who carried a young child in his arms as he hurried through the doors of the already crowded hospital ward.
"Sir, this way." The young resident rinsed his gloved hands in a basin of blood tinged water and wiped them on a towel that lay beside it as he directed the man to a gurney that already held another injured child.
Even before the girl was fully on the table he'd begun his assessment of her, fully aware that every minute he wasted could mean the difference between life and death to her.
These were the lessons he was learning on a daily basis, the lessons his textbooks could never have taught him, but ones he wished could have been revealed under any other circumstances but the ones they were now being taught. These were the lessons that he would never forget, the lessons that would remain with him long after the war ended, long after he finished medical school and moved into a practice of his own. These were the lessons of a lifetime.
The End
(A ficlet written for the quote: "Experience: that most brutal of teachers. But you learn, my God do you learn.” C. S. Lewis." in the community Artistic License on Live Journal."
by JD
They'd been without water for over a week, without power, except what could be gained from several small generators for almost as long, supplies were increasingly scarce, and still the casualties came. The hospital staff had been pushed to their limits for longer then that, but what could they do? Doctor, Intern, Resident, Nurse, or Aide, their titles no longer mattered, all that mattered now was providing the best care they could to those who needed it.
The latest wave of casualties were victims of a sniper who had opened fire on a civilians standing in a bread queue. Old men, women, children, it hadn't mattered, all had been targets and those who had survived were brought into the already overflowing hospital.
"Luka, take the little girl." Dr. Bajic jerked his head toward a man who carried a young child in his arms as he hurried through the doors of the already crowded hospital ward.
"Sir, this way." The young resident rinsed his gloved hands in a basin of blood tinged water and wiped them on a towel that lay beside it as he directed the man to a gurney that already held another injured child.
Even before the girl was fully on the table he'd begun his assessment of her, fully aware that every minute he wasted could mean the difference between life and death to her.
These were the lessons he was learning on a daily basis, the lessons his textbooks could never have taught him, but ones he wished could have been revealed under any other circumstances but the ones they were now being taught. These were the lessons that he would never forget, the lessons that would remain with him long after the war ended, long after he finished medical school and moved into a practice of his own. These were the lessons of a lifetime.
The End