9/11

Five years ago, when I arrived at the county ED for my 8-hour shift at 6:45am CDT, all I could think about was I needed an extra java jolt. With caffeine circulating in my bloodstream, I was on
hyperdrive, knowing it was going to be an extremely busy day (I knew I was going to be at the asthma acute care, the busiest section in the ED) and regretting I agreed to take this rotation.

I made my way to what seem like an eternity of patients who were short of breath. Around noon, an elderly black woman in between her albuterol puffs asked me: “Do you know anyone in New York?” Incognizant about what had transpired (and was transpiring) in the east coast, I found the question a little odd. I didn’t reply, feigning failure of hearing her query in the middle of the ER chaos. Besides, I was preoccupied about the patients waiting to be treated.

It was then that I begin to hear what people around me were saying:

“They had shut down O’Hare and every airport."
"Maybe Sears was a target?”
“WTC is gone.”
“I have never even been to New York!”
“Was it the F-15 that shot the plane down?”

I remember thinking: what the heck was going on? By 2:00pm, my section finally slowed down. It was then that I learned about the WTC collapse.

A deep sadness engulfed me then. And disbelief that this degree of malevolence existed. It has been five years. My thoughts and sentiments remain the same.

My prayers are with the victims of 9/11. And all victims of war.


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Ground Zero: April 2005