Post by T/5. Joseph Shelton on Apr 26, 2011 0:40:54 GMT
It was just another day in the aid station, or so it would appear to be. The regular volume of wounded were coming in. Mostly cases of trench foot, illness, or non-combat related injuries. With the breakout in Normandy being long over, there weren’t as many combat injuries coming in. That doesn’t mean they were non-existent however. Joseph had his own tent within the aid station in which he could tend to four casualties in. But today he only had one occupant.
Joseph was busy tending to a young private who had come in with a bad case of trench foot. When he arrived, Joseph removed his boot and soaked sock to find the skin itself was simply rubbing off layers at a time. It was one of the most disgusting and unbearable odors a human could experience. And one that they would never forget. The private squinted in pain, trying to be masculine and taking the pain, but the occasional yelp and groan of agony could be heard from his clenched teeth.
Once the sock had been removed all the way, Joseph examined the foot for any open wounds. He noticed that the skin covering the metatarsus was darkened with what appeared to be a contusion. Joseph looked up to the private, who was doing all his best not to lose his lunch. ”You stumble on something?” The private nodded his head. ”Yeah, about two days ago, we were running up on a village near the outskirts of Cherbourg. Kraut mortars started coming in on us like crazy, tripped over a produce cart and fell hard.” The private let out another groan as Joseph prodded the tender area in question.
He continued examining the foot, much to the private’s disapproval. After the inspection, Joseph informed the private that he had a typical case of trench foot and that he would end up all right after a few days in the rear. Joseph prepared to patch up the soldier. He took talcum powder and brushed it all over the foot to help dry up the severely wet skin. Once an acceptable layer of powder was placed on the foot, Joseph took a large 8x10 dressing and covered the foot. He had the private hold it together while he wrapped it up with a bandage.
Joseph finished the job with easy. He had done this for what seemed to be millions of times, and it was a common fix. He was applying the pin to hold the bandage together when the flap to his medical tent flew open and two men carrying a stretcher barged in. ”Doc! He’s hit bad! Priority!” Joseph threw himself to his feet as the private with the bad foot cornered himself on his cot, watching the event unfold.
On the stretcher was a soldier who could only be described as good as gone. His shirt had been ripped open and blood covered his abdominal area. His face was covered with loosely placed bandages, hiding the wounds in which were inflicted to his head. The stretcher bearers dropped the wounded man onto a table in the center of the tent where Joseph could examine and treat emergency situations. He raced to the casualty’s side as one of the stretcher bearers gave him a report. ”He took a sniper round in his lower right abdomen area. The Kraut tried to get a second shot off while he was on the ground but it ricocheted and fragments went into his eye.”
Joseph immediately ripped apart the rest of the wounded man’s blouse. ”Any morphine or other interventions that have been performed?” The bearers shook their heads. The wounded soldier was also a young private. He was screaming in pain, begging for both his mother and mercy. Joseph immediately took his hands and put pressure atop the gunshot wound and leaned over to the wounded boy’s face. ”Okay, I need you to calm down! I’m going to take care of you, what’s your name soldier?” The boy could only muster up pieces of his name at a time through screams, but Joseph soon learned his name was Todd. ”All right Todd, I need you to hold together for me while I fix you up.” Joseph instructed the bearers, who are also trained medics, to ready him a hemostat, plasma drip, and pressure bandages.
Taking one of his hands, while holding pressure with the other, Joseph took a morphine syrette from his breast pocket. He removed the tip with his teeth and stuck it into the private’s thigh and squeezed the morphine into his muscle. Within seconds the private was slowly beginning to calm. Joseph had one of the bearers take over holding pressure while he leaned the private over and checked for an exit wound. There wasn’t one, which meant the bullet was still lodged.
Joseph wasn’t a doctor, and he didn’t have the tools to remove the bullet. The private would have to be stabilized here before Joseph could transfer him to a surgical tent. He placed a pressure bandage over the bullet hole and taped it tightly, wrapping it all around the private’s waist. It was while he was stopping the bleeding that Joseph noticed the private was showing signs of agonal respirations. Joseph took his stethoscope which was placed in his trousers cargo pocket and placed it over the wounded soldier’s chest and began to auscultate the chest cavity. Joseph immediately found diminished breath sounds on the left side, which suggested a pneumothorax.
A chest tube would need to be placed, but Joseph did not have the equipment in his tent. He instructed the stretcher bearers to retrieve another medic with the proper equipment and bring him back to the tent to assist Joseph. As the bearers went off, Joseph monitored the wounded soldier’s respirations by holding his head back to maintain a patent airway. It wouldn’t take long for the situation to worsen and Joseph knew if he didn’t treat this life threat immediately that there’d soon be a dead GI on the stretcher…
Joseph was busy tending to a young private who had come in with a bad case of trench foot. When he arrived, Joseph removed his boot and soaked sock to find the skin itself was simply rubbing off layers at a time. It was one of the most disgusting and unbearable odors a human could experience. And one that they would never forget. The private squinted in pain, trying to be masculine and taking the pain, but the occasional yelp and groan of agony could be heard from his clenched teeth.
Once the sock had been removed all the way, Joseph examined the foot for any open wounds. He noticed that the skin covering the metatarsus was darkened with what appeared to be a contusion. Joseph looked up to the private, who was doing all his best not to lose his lunch. ”You stumble on something?” The private nodded his head. ”Yeah, about two days ago, we were running up on a village near the outskirts of Cherbourg. Kraut mortars started coming in on us like crazy, tripped over a produce cart and fell hard.” The private let out another groan as Joseph prodded the tender area in question.
He continued examining the foot, much to the private’s disapproval. After the inspection, Joseph informed the private that he had a typical case of trench foot and that he would end up all right after a few days in the rear. Joseph prepared to patch up the soldier. He took talcum powder and brushed it all over the foot to help dry up the severely wet skin. Once an acceptable layer of powder was placed on the foot, Joseph took a large 8x10 dressing and covered the foot. He had the private hold it together while he wrapped it up with a bandage.
Joseph finished the job with easy. He had done this for what seemed to be millions of times, and it was a common fix. He was applying the pin to hold the bandage together when the flap to his medical tent flew open and two men carrying a stretcher barged in. ”Doc! He’s hit bad! Priority!” Joseph threw himself to his feet as the private with the bad foot cornered himself on his cot, watching the event unfold.
On the stretcher was a soldier who could only be described as good as gone. His shirt had been ripped open and blood covered his abdominal area. His face was covered with loosely placed bandages, hiding the wounds in which were inflicted to his head. The stretcher bearers dropped the wounded man onto a table in the center of the tent where Joseph could examine and treat emergency situations. He raced to the casualty’s side as one of the stretcher bearers gave him a report. ”He took a sniper round in his lower right abdomen area. The Kraut tried to get a second shot off while he was on the ground but it ricocheted and fragments went into his eye.”
Joseph immediately ripped apart the rest of the wounded man’s blouse. ”Any morphine or other interventions that have been performed?” The bearers shook their heads. The wounded soldier was also a young private. He was screaming in pain, begging for both his mother and mercy. Joseph immediately took his hands and put pressure atop the gunshot wound and leaned over to the wounded boy’s face. ”Okay, I need you to calm down! I’m going to take care of you, what’s your name soldier?” The boy could only muster up pieces of his name at a time through screams, but Joseph soon learned his name was Todd. ”All right Todd, I need you to hold together for me while I fix you up.” Joseph instructed the bearers, who are also trained medics, to ready him a hemostat, plasma drip, and pressure bandages.
Taking one of his hands, while holding pressure with the other, Joseph took a morphine syrette from his breast pocket. He removed the tip with his teeth and stuck it into the private’s thigh and squeezed the morphine into his muscle. Within seconds the private was slowly beginning to calm. Joseph had one of the bearers take over holding pressure while he leaned the private over and checked for an exit wound. There wasn’t one, which meant the bullet was still lodged.
Joseph wasn’t a doctor, and he didn’t have the tools to remove the bullet. The private would have to be stabilized here before Joseph could transfer him to a surgical tent. He placed a pressure bandage over the bullet hole and taped it tightly, wrapping it all around the private’s waist. It was while he was stopping the bleeding that Joseph noticed the private was showing signs of agonal respirations. Joseph took his stethoscope which was placed in his trousers cargo pocket and placed it over the wounded soldier’s chest and began to auscultate the chest cavity. Joseph immediately found diminished breath sounds on the left side, which suggested a pneumothorax.
A chest tube would need to be placed, but Joseph did not have the equipment in his tent. He instructed the stretcher bearers to retrieve another medic with the proper equipment and bring him back to the tent to assist Joseph. As the bearers went off, Joseph monitored the wounded soldier’s respirations by holding his head back to maintain a patent airway. It wouldn’t take long for the situation to worsen and Joseph knew if he didn’t treat this life threat immediately that there’d soon be a dead GI on the stretcher…