Brown Eyes

It was chaotic. No sooner had I walked in I was needed. There had been an industrial explosion somewhere and there was a patient being prepped for a procedure in the hydrostation with more people on the way.

I was nervous.

I pressed the big silver button and the double doors swung open.
Suddenly it was summer. 100 degrees Fahrenheit. Sweat began to pour off of my face, dripping down onto my baby blue scrubs. I could tell this was going to be serious.

The doctors were ordering me around asking for sterile gowns, particular size gloves and other necessities. I had no idea where they were so I would walk out, ask a nurse, retrieve them, and hurry back.
The patient was lying on the table. His legs were burned, badly. He was drifting in and out of consciousness. It was loud, yet it was quiet. The room seemed to whirl around me. My brain was processing every detail.

3rd degree burns. Bone white skin. Scalpels. No anesthesia. Consciousness. Unconsciousness. Sweat dripping onto my scrubs. Awake. Shaking. Whimpering. Hurting.

The doctor began to rub that yellow/orange stuff on his legs. I knew what this meant. I feared this part more than anything in the world. The initial cuts. Especially on the legs. There's something about legs.
And then they began.

They had to relieve the pressure in the legs. The burn would swell and eventually cut off circulation which would lead to the death of the leg. The procedure was necessary. It had to be done. I watched.

They started at the ankle and carefully moved their way up, all they way up his thigh.

Suddenly I was called over. One of the doctors needed me to hold his arm up so that he could clean something up, or move something out of the way. I can't remember.

I did as I was told. I was holding his arm. Blood was getting on my gloves. I didn't know where it was coming from. I didn't care. I just knew I had to hold the arm.

It was heavy. It was then that we made eye contact. He looked up at me with his big brown eyes. His eyes were filled with such helplessness. It was haunting. I looked away. The doctor was done. I set his arm down and backed away from the table.

He jumped. There must have been pain. He wanted to know what was going on. The doctor replied that he was just cleaning him up. He lied. He had already cut about a 1/5 inch wide cut from the ankle to midway up the calf.

Time was flying by. It had almost been two hours. I was soaked. They were almost done. He wanted water. I was ordered to go get some.

I brought it back and one of the doctors gave him a drink.

After a while they finished. He was bandaged up and being moved to a room. I helped get him into his bed. Then we made eye contact for a second time, except this time, there wasn't a look of helplessness. It was a look of relief. I gave him a small smile and walked out of the room as his wife was brought in to see him.

Everything was going to be alright. I knew it when I looked into his big brown eyes for the last time.