I walk in alone. The leaves of late fall rest brittle on the ground. I have to watch my step on the uneven terrain. Bare branches pull at my pants and workshirt.
“The routine use of high-flow oxygen in uncomplicated MI may result in a greater infarct size and possibly increase the risk of mortality.”
When we arrive at the cardiologist’s office, we are led down the hall to our patient’s room where a 12-lead machine is spitting out an ECG. I can see the ST elevation from the doorway.
He is ghostly pale. There is vomit in the waste basket. I touch his forehead and it is as soggy as a sponge.
I am now a dual citizen. I am just waiting for Dixie McCall to teach me the nurses’s secret handshake and tell me at which Moose Lodge they hold their hotenannies.
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