A Medic that No Body Likes

From 1965 to 1972, I was an ex-Special Forces trained From medic working for the  RMK-BRJ construction company in Vietnam.  My first assignment was at Cam Rahn Bay, in which I was the sole independent medic responsible for the medical care of about 4000 Vietnamese workers. I lived and worked in the Vietnamese compound 24 hours of the day, seven days a week.  Three other American medics resided and operated a dispensary located inside the US Air Force base compound for RMK-BRJ American and other third national workers.

 

There was one particular American medic, “Doc” Fisher, an ex-navy corpsman who was about 45 years old,  short and stocky, built like a tree stump, who upon the day he arrived seemed to alienate patients and everyone he met. He was loud bullish, saying the most inappropriate insulting things to people; he irritated people to the point of anger and distrust, which resulted in patients not liking him. He never learned how to deal with other people’s cultures. He was like a bull in a china shop when it came to intrapersonal skills. His actions were not intentional nor mean-spirited. It was just the way he was.  Working with him a few times in the dispensary, I observed that he had excellent medical skills except for his negative personality traits. I felt fortunate that I did not have to work with him daily.

 

Early in the morning, during a thunderous monsoon storm, I received an emergency call, jumped into my ambulance, and was off. Because I couldn’t see five feet past the front end of the ambulance, I took one road stripe at a time, with the loud sound of the thunderous monsoon downpour on the ambulance cab.  We reached the accident site just off the ramp of the floating pontoon bridge, which the US Army Engineers had built.  The Vietnamese who overcrowded the back of a man haul were pointing down to the back wheels of the man haul trailer. My interpreter Chin Cao Minh and I grabbed our medical gear and ran to the truck wheels, next to them lying on his back were a Vietnamese dressed in the usual black colored pajama style clothes. His right leg is wrapped around the other legs thigh. I assessed his breathing and consciousness, which was satisfactory; I immediately instructed Chin to stay on his head to monitor his breathing and any change of consciousness while I turned my attention to the traumatized legs. Carefully with Manuel traction, I untwisted the fractured leg from the other leg and placed it approximate normal position then cut both leg pants off, exposing both legs. The right leg showed signs of a femur or thigh bone fracture, the leg was shorter than the other leg due to muscle contraction and was bulging and deformed in the mid-thigh area. The other leg stripped of skin, and some muscles were showing the parts of the tibia and fibula bones from the kneecap down to the ankle. The loose skin and flesh were rolled down into his boot. Surprisingly there was no apparent major arterial bleeding that required a tourniquet to the leg.  Also, he suffered closed fractures of both arms. I prioritized emergency treatment and immediately applied heavy wound dressings the full length of the ripped up leg and wrapped the leg with elastic ace bandages to aid in compression for control of bleeding.

As I was finishing up, another RMK-BRJ ambulance drove up and out jumped the bullish medic.  “Doc,” Fisher asked with a laugh, “Do you need help”?  Needing help badly, I replied, “I’m glad you're here “!  I asked him if he could start an I.V.and briefed him on the patient and that both arms were fractured and lacerated. He immediately began working on the fractured arm, noting that he needed assistance in splinting the arm I went over to help him. With metal splints applied, I resumed my work of trying to apply the military type Thomas traction splint to the fractured thigh bone. After placing and tying all of the support bandages around the leg and sides of the Thomas splint, I was ready to apply physical traction and pull on the leg to bring the femur bone back to its approximate alignment and length. Suddenly the hands of the bullish medics were there helping me, tying down the ankle and leg so that the femur bone would not retract and be pulled back out of realignment. He went back to finish his work.  We continued to give emergency treatment with both of us intermittently observing and assisting each other when necessary, but without speaking or coaching each other. The communication was by intuition, body language, and eye contact. When about finished, the bullish medic said: “You know Vic we work well together, we haven’t spoken a word to each other while taking care of this guy.” Your right,” I said.

 

 The Vietnamese workers still in the man haul trucks and who watched the scene raised their thumbs shouting and chanting ” Bacsi (Doctor ) Vic Number One! Bacsi Vic Number One!” as we loaded our patient into my ambulance.   I felt somewhat embarrassed that “Doc” Fisher's name was not in the compliment. Arriving at the Air Force hospital, we were immediately triaged and then directed to the orthopedic surgical unit. Our treatment procedure was satisfactory as the nurses and doctor who checked him over and told us to wait for the orthopedic surgeon.”Doc” Fisher and I stood there, soaked from the thunderous downpour, wet and hot, with sweltering steam radiating off of us as we gave the medical report of injuries and treatment modes to the orthopedic surgeon who then removed the bandages from the mangled and flesh stripped leg. The surgeon complimented, “you guys took good care of him.”    The patient was taken into surgery, and due to the massive skin and tissue damage to the leg required amputation. The other arms and leg bones were set and cast. I felt elated knowing that “Doc” Fisher and I had given our best care to the patient and had saved his life. It was one of the few rewards of being a medic.

 

A month or so later, “Doc” Fisher was transferred out and assumed the duties of a job site safety officer at a small remote job site. The last scuttlebutt I heard that during a heavy rocket attack which hit hard the work site camp “Doc” Fisher jumped in and took over when the Philippine medic became stressed out could not start I.V.s, or treat civilian’s workers who suffered sharpened wounds. There he was putting battle dressings on wounds, treating for shock, starting I.V.s all on multiple patients while still under rocket fire. And I am sure making those irritating senseless remarks.

 

I must admit, however, if I were injured in the field, crying out for help, I would not mind if “Doc” Fisher showed up to treat me. Most likely, I would suffer his loud rattling, so irritating comments knowing that medically, I would be in good, capable hands.

Reviews

[emmajoy]

This kind of story is completely out of my zone but, your history and data of where your writing came from urged me to read at least one of your stories. So I began at the earliest posted. To say that the deails given were vuvud wiykd be an understatement but that is the truth when involved in a state of war that scars the pages of warfare past. The medical details, the language used are to the point, downright fac but the added tell of 'Doc Fisher and the type of man he was, plus the way in which he did in fact appear human... was something that needs thinking about. Who and what a man (orwoman) appears to be does not always represent the person behind the facade. Will read more another time but need a breather for now. Will recommend more reads of your writing.