“Disclaimer: for anyone
listening this is just a training exercise,” I heard over the radio.
I was surprised by the
adrenaline I felt. Despite knowing this was a scenario set up for the last day
of the wilderness medicine elective, I was immersed in the supposed mass
casualty for all but a few moments. Once when I chuckled watching as the
“injured victim” impaled by the branch tired of holding the wood perpendicular
and had his “partner” hold it for him; another as I arrived at the last patient
and reflected on how much we had all learned in just one week on the trail.
The first scenario we had
completed was a few days before. Two of the course leaders had “fallen from a
tree” as they tried to set up a tarp to cover camp. We meandered over,
wondering what to do and hoping (at least I was) that someone else would take
the lead. It took us a while to figure out what we should do as we each shouted
out random questions about their current symptoms. Now, as I walked around, I
marveled at how equipped the rest of the team had become—each member quickly
assessing what should be done, gathering the appropriate supplies, and (without
causing too much unnecessary discomfort to our fellow classmates) treating the
“patients”.
When the scenario ended,
we gathered in the shade to break down what we did well and what could have
been done better. Each patient talked about the quality of their care and each
team member elaborated on their thought process and decisions for treatment. Some
areas of improvement were noted (a tourniquet should have been placed earlier,
a patient’s cervical spine had not been assessed before they were moved), but
most had felt the team had accurately assessed their injuries and adequately
treated (or pretended to treat) their ailments. One “patient” even pointed out
how he had appreciated that the two team members treating him had taken the
time to bring his partner aside before pronouncing him dead (a reminder that
even in—or especially in—a trauma setting, a second spent on compassion can go
a long a way).
This scenario was one of
several throughout the weeklong trip: each a unique experience impossible to
mimic in the restricted walls of a classroom or hospital, each with important
lessons that will transcend the wilderness setting to the hospital (lessons
such as prioritizing treatment in a multiple casualty event, treating someone
quickly with lack of supplies, or personnel, you might like, and, as already
mentioned, treating patients as people even in the most harrowing and stressful
of settings), and each an opportunity to make mistakes when the consequences
were low.
