We are drowning.
“14-year-old male, gunshot wound to the chest and back, pronounced dead on arrival.”
“28-year-old female, front seat restrained passenger in motor vehicle accident, distal upper extremity fracture. The driver pronounced dead at the scene.”
I’m sitting in morning report listening to the barrage of death and tragedy again. Just 5 minutes ago, I overheard a colleague tell a patient their partner had died. I listened to the patient’s sobs through the thin curtain, her devastation without privacy. Then watched as the same colleague pivoted from breaking her heart to presenting the overnight trauma patients minutes later.