Won`t Be Long And They Will Be Gone

From a Military Doctor

I am a doctor specializing in the Emergency Departments of the only two

military Level One-trauma centers, both in San Antonio, TX and they

care for civilian Emergencies as well as military personnel.

San Antonio has the largest military retiree population in the world

living here As a military doctor, I work long hours and the pay is less

than glamorous.

One tends to become jaded by the long hours, lack of sleep, food,

family contact and the endless parade of human suffering passing before

you. The arrival of another ambulance does not mean more pay, only more

work.

Most often, it is a victim from a motor vehicle crash. Often it is a

person of dubious character who has been shot or stabbed. With our

large military retiree population, it is often a nursing home patient.

Even with my enlisted service and minimal combat experience in Panama,

I have caught myself groaning when the ambulance brought in yet another

sick, elderly person from one of the local retirement centers that

cater to military retirees. I had not stopped to think of what citizens

of this age group represented.

I saw ``Saving Private Ryan.`` I was touched deeply. Not so much by the

carnage, but by the sacrifices of so many. I was touched most by the

scene of the elderly survivor at the graveside, asking his wife if he`d

been a good man. I realized that I had seen these same men and women

coming through my Emergency Dept. and had not realized what magnificent

sacrifices they had made. The things they did for me and everyone else

that has lived on this planet since the end of that conflict are

priceless.

Situation permitting, I now try to ask my patients about their

experiences. They would never bring up the subject without the

inquiry. I have been privileged to an amazing array of experiences,

recounted in the brief minutes allowed in an Emergency Dept. encounter.

These experiences have revealed the incredible individuals I have had

the honor of serving in a medical capacity, many on their last

admission to the hospital.

There was a frail, elderly woman who reassured my young enlisted medic,

trying to start an IV line in her arm. She remained calm and poised,

despite her illness and the multiple needle-sticks into her fragile

veins. She was what we call a ``hard stick.`` As the medic made another

attempt, I noticed a number tattooed across her forearm. I touched it

with one finger and looked into her eyes. She simply said,

``Auschwitz.`` Many of later generations would have loudly and openly

berated the young medic in his many attempts. How different was the

response from this person who`d seen unspeakable suffering.

Also, there was this long retired Colonel, who as a young officer had

parachuted from his burning plane over a Pacific Island held by the

Japanese. Now an octogenarian, his head cut in a fall at home where he

lived alone. His CT scan and suturing had been delayed until after

midnight by the usual parade of high priority ambulance patients. Still

spry for his age, he asked to use the phone to call a taxi, to take him

home, then he realized his ambulance had brought him without his

wallet.

He asked if he could use the phone to make a long distance call to his

daughter who lived 7 miles away. With great pride we told him that he

could not, as he`d done enough for his country and the least we could

do was get him a taxi home, even if we had to pay for it ourselves. My

only regret was that my shift wouldn`t end for several hours, and I

couldn`t drive him myself.

I was there the night MSgt. Roy Benavidez came through the Emergency

Dept. for the last time. He was very sick. I was not the doctor taking

care of him, but I walked to his bedside and took his hand. I said

nothing. He was so sick, he didn`t know I was there. I`d read his

Congressional Medal of Honor citation and wanted to shake his hand. He

died a few days later.

The gentleman who served with Merrill`s Marauders, the survivor of the

Bataan Death March, the survivor of Omaha Beach, the 101 year old World

War I veteran, the former POW held in frozen North Korea, the former

Special Forces medic - now with non-operable liver cancer, the former

Viet Nam Corps Commander. I remember these citizens.

I may still groan when yet another ambulance comes in, but now I am

much more aware of what an honor it is to serve these particular men

and women.

I have seen a Congress who would turn their back on these individuals

who`ve sacrificed so much to protect our liberty. I see later

generations that seem to be totally engrossed in abusing these same

liberties, won with such sacrifice.

It has become my personal endeavor to make the nurses and young

enlisted medics aware of these amazing individuals when I encounter

them in our Emergency Dept. Their response to these particular citizens

has made Me think that perhaps all is not lost in the next generation.

My experiences have solidified my belief that we are losing an

incredible generation, and this nation knows not what it is losing.

Our uncaring government and ungrateful civilian populace should all

take note. We should all remember that we must ``Earn this.``

Written By CPT. Stephen R. Ellison, M.D.