Sixty-five million people die each year in the world. That is 178,000 each day, 7,425 each hour, and 120 each minute. But why was no one dying in this part of town?
Wait, that came out heatless. But hear me out.
For the last week I have been assigned the night shift at a small government hospital as a medical volunteer, it has been as still as a graveyard, with only the occasional emergency check-ups from elderlies living near the vicinity and minor injuries from the local farmers getting an early head-start before sunlight hit the quaint village. With the small yet decent hospital situated in a rural area surrounded by cropland and where only several hundred or so people resided, it wasn't surprising that the emergency rate in this part of town barely scratched the minimum number of the main hospital located in the city proper.
Believing tonight was no exception, I fought the urge to yawn as I continued my task of encoding a mountain of documents into their outdated computer. It was a Friday night, and the emergency room had been quiet and stagnant as ever since I clocked in at seven that evening.
The low hum of the ceiling fans and my fingers typing on the keyboard filled in the void. When I first applied for the volunteering post, I had to admit, I was expecting to be at the heart of the action that kept me on my toes like on those medical dramas on TV. But alas, my high expectations were met with disappointment, and I was shipped off in the middle of nowhere.
Just as I was about to knock back my second cup of instant coffee, the double-doors of the ER swung open and two men donned in black caps, white shirts and black vests--barangay public safety officers--carried someone and from my vantage point at the corner of the nurse's station, was a young woman, her body covered with muck and blood.
"What happened?" This question came from the head triage nurse, Linda, as she emerged from the nurse's station. Her salt and pepper hair was disheveled while her green scrubs, wrinkled from doing a double-shift due to the lack of staffing. But she had obviously hoped to have a mellow evening, with her feet previously propped up the desk as she intently watched a K-drama series about some haunted hotel, on her smartphone before the disruption.
"There was an accident. A couple in a car almost ran her over and hit a tree. They're coming in a separate vehicle." The bruly barangay officer reported as he and his companion followed Linda in hurried strides as she led them to one of the four available beds in the ward. Funding in this part of town was scarce for any appropriate EMTs and ambulances to transport patients, and would only resort to the barangay hall's heavily battered, commercial L300 vehicle as an alternative.
"Almost ran her over? Are you sure they didn't do this to her?" Linda gestured at the evident injuries found on the girl's body.
"According to the driver, she suddenly sprung in the middle of the road which caused him to swerve the car and hit a tree." The younger officer supplied as they gingerly placed the girl on the bed.
"Jesus, poor girl looks like she went to hell and back again." Linda tsked as she fished a penlight from her pocket, and flashed it to assess the patient's pupillary reaction. The nurse's sharp gaze didn't miss out on any small detail as she did a quick visual assessment on the patient.
"Looks like she lost a lot of blood from all the laceration marks on her body. Possible mild concussion." She continued her evaluation out loud, more for the benefit of the two officers present than for her own. She gently angled the patient's chin until the obvious head trauma at the right side of her temple was evident, smearing the side of her face with crimson red.
The emergency doors swung open once more and two other men carrying a stretcher scurried in. Although the clothes of the older woman laying on it were clean from the dirt and muck unlike the first patient, the bloody head trauma was clearly visible as the shattered glass that clung to her flesh and clothes.
YOU ARE READING
UNPSYCHIC.
ParanormalCollege sophomore Dominic Macaraeg was ready to start fresh and move on from the life he, his mother and little sister, had left in the chaotic city of Manila in exchange for the less tumultuous and chillier atmosphere of Baguio City. However, somet...
