Random thoughts, poetry and pictures

Random thoughts, poetry and pictures
A taste of my skewed view of the world.

Saturday, July 14, 2018

Great picture of Joe in 2004.


Twisted (with addendum)

Hope this doesn't offend anyone, 
Just have to get it off my chest.

I’ve smelled burned flesh, 
Blood, shit, piss, puke, 
Bacterial infections, and toxic chemicals.

I’ve sorted body parts
After a terrorist bombing
Knowing that one of the bodies
Could be someone I love.

I’ve remained professional and nonjudgmental
While working with a man
Who sodomized his six-month old daughter.

I’ve sat with a woman and convinced her 
That the unrecognizable person in the burn unit
Is her 18-year-old son,
Who will not survive.

I’ve watched a man have a stroke
Because of the medication I gave him
To dissolve the blood clot in his coronary artery.

I’ve administered 360 joules of electrical energy
To a woman’s chest,
Over and over again, 
Knowing there is no chance for survival.

I’ve stayed with a patient
Until he died after we stopped the ventilator,
Then cried with the family
And prepared the body for the morgue.

I’ve heard the cries of a 20-year-old girl
Who miscarried
In the seventh month.

I’ve started an IV on a convicted murderer.

I’ve stood watch in the trauma center
When the president was in town,
Hoping some wacko
Wouldn’t choose tonight to assassinate.

I’ve felt ribs break while doing CPR.

I’ve done mouth to mouth
On a man in cardiac arrest
Whose arm was amputated at the shoulder
From a motor vehicle collision.

I’ve felt skin come off the wrist
Of the body I was removing from a house fire.

I’ve cracked jokes
While removing the tattoo of a swastika
From a white supremacist’s burned shoulder.

I’ve started an IV
In a drug addict’s penis
Because it was the only vein he hadn’t used.

I’ve had a patient’s finger
Come off in my hand
During a burn dressing.

I’ve taken care of a mob style-shooting victim
Before PD arrived,
Knowing that the shooter
Could still be out there
And I might have a target on my back.

I’ve laughed, joked, shouted and cried
While listening to the equally horrific stories
Of firemen, policemen, nurses, doctors and soldiers
Over pizza and beer.

...No wonder I'm twisted

(C)BT 2010

Addendum to original poem:


I've wept with my belovedAs my son diesAfter withdrawal of life support


A moanThe last sound from his lips


KnowingHis sacrificeRenewed lifeFor five othersThrough organ donation


Hollow victory.(c)2011BT