Leaving San Diego XXV

Back home (tent), it was time to head out to what would be my last night in the hospital ER. My replacement, Donja, was a fast learner and doing a great job. I had been showing her everything I knew. The lone trauma for the night had a severe wound to the top of his left arm. The burly Mexican gentleman had a neat, 10-inch oval of skin torn from that arm. It looked like someone had rolled a car tire on top of his arm and peeled-out. It was bad, with tendons and muscles all exposed. He would require immediate surgery. As usual, the police were there. The patient answered all the questions properly, except for how the accident had happened. He said he did not remember. I walked the corridors one last time, making sure each patient's needs were being met. Donja then presented me with a neat surprise. She had secretly circulated a card to all the doctors and nurses. They all had signed their names and made nice comments to me concerning my work over the past ten years. That was really nice of her. Before meeting her, I was concerned about the quality of my replacement? My worries were unfounded. Donja was a class act.

Back at the tent, I crawled in for the final time...getting the nylon material stuck in the zipper only once.