The Trauma Unit

By Pierre Harris

The Trauma Unit encompasses a sequence of life-threatening events survived by one man that, as a result, changes the entire trajectory of his life.

With his life hanging in the balance, quick reacting choices made by one paramedic team will play an integral part in rescuing a man from death. Trauma Unit is about second chances and how the plans that God has for us is not always what we expect! This book is written to remind you of God's promises and a true testament of being hard pressed on every side but not crushed, perplexed but not in despair, persecuted but not abandoned, struck down but not destroyed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jun 23, 2021
• ISBN: 9781098085247

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The Trauma Unit

Pierre Harris

Copyright © 2021 by Pierre Harris

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

We Have a 10–52

Rehab and Recovery

The Spirit of a Paramedic

Introduction

This book is about a marathon journey of grit and grind but eventually jubilant victory and freedom. Hopefully, this read will inspire you to believe when you are not sure, to hope when everyone doubts, and trust when it feels impossible to do. Love.

Chapter 1

We Have a 10–52

Dispatch: Ambulance needed; we have a 10-52. My eyes perked up as I thought, Wow, this will be my first time out as a new EMT (Emergency Medical Technician) paramedic. A second time over the dispatch came the sound that only gave me butterflies the size of coconuts; we have a 10-54 on the corner of Eleventh and Fourth Avenue. Anxious thoughts of regret ranged out loudly in my brain as I entered the ambulance truck in my uniform, Why couldn’t my first emergency response have been a fender bender accident like an airbag injury? As much as I know, this is what I am supposed to be doing with my life. I still feel apprehensive; however, at this point, it is too late to turn back. It’s now or never.

As I and the other EMTs rushed into the ambulance, 10-54 rang out a third time over the dispatch. A code 10-54 meant possible dead body. Eighteen months of training were recently completed, and a lifetime of dreaming of the opportunity to save a life on the front line summed up at the moment as we arrived at the scene only to find chaos in the purest form—two out of the three traffic lanes blocked on a one way in the financial district. The fire department and the police department were already on the scene securing the area and maintaining population control as that area was always full of working-class citizens.

As the rain intensely fell from the sky, and we arrived at the intersection, the concrete was decorated with shattered glass. It was as if time stood still as I turned my eyes to a depiction of a young male pinned to his vehicle that could only be described as a 2019 smashed soda can or red Ferrari. The yellow caution tape outlined everywhere in a 360 and a patrol officer yelling to the public that was eagerly watching in horrid disbelief, Move and make room for the ambulance! At that moment, my heart pounded as loud as a shotgun buckshot round being let off at point-blank range.

As I and my colleague were carrying the gurney to the horrid crash scene, the fire marshal immediately jumped back in between us and the crash and yelled, Not yet, fellas, give us just a few more minutes, and the extraction should be finished. We have been at it for ten minutes already. Apparently, this kid lost control of his vehicle, swerved, and hit this light pole, or at least that is what I overheard the witness telling the patrol officer as he was taking the official report. Either way, by the look of this vehicle, if he makes it out of this one, he will probably be a vegetable at a minimum.

As the young man was pulled out of the vehicle, his white-and-black T-shirt that read YOLO was drenched in blood. As