He was 62. Diabetic. Came in gasping.
No relatives, no records, just an ID card and his half-worn slippers.I intubated with shaking hands. My first time doing it solo.
Vitals dropped. BP crashing. I whispered “please hold on” like it made a difference.
We stabilized him. He made it.
Next morning, he held my hand and said, “Thank you, beta.”I smiled but I hadn’t slept, eaten, or processed a thing.
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