Stop the Bleed

May is National Trauma Survivors Month -- and guess what...

You can learn to help someone survive a traumatic injury like mine.

(Yes, really!)

It's called Stop the Bleed.

Now I know what you're thinking.  I, too, sat through middle school health class in the 1980's.

Back then, tourniquets were a big NO.
And dealing with blood??  
That was an even bigger NO.

But you should know (see what I did there?) these important life-saving measures aren't NOs anymore.

First aid and trauma care have evolved since then.  

I have it from a good source  -- actually the best source -- my Jefferson Trauma Team.  

It's okay to help in an emergency.  

In fact, it's RECOMMENDED.

And EVERYONE should know how!

Stop the Bleed is a nationwide campaign to teach ordinary bystanders how to help someone who's bleeding out.  

Maybe you're out hiking or rock climbing.  

Maybe you're walking through the city.  

Maybe you're waiting at a bus stop.

With a little knowledge,
YOU can save the life of someone who's injured.

First -- CALL 911.  Make sure YOU are safe.

If the person is bleeding, apply pressure to the wound.  Both hands.  Shoulders strong.  Get down on your knees if you have to.

If the wound is wide and deep, pack it with gauze -- or whatever fabric you might have handy.  

Even a t-shirt will work.
(Trauma Nurse Nora taught me that!)

For arm or leg wounds, a tourniquet might be necessary.  Learn to use one. 

If bleeding is forceful or continuous, apply a tourniquet 2-3 inches above the wound or above the nearest joint.  (You can even make one from a cloth or belt.)

Then, stay with the person and wait for help to arrive.

As as a traumatic injury survivor, I know what it's like when bystanders don't know what to do.  My accident occurred next to a bus stop with many commuters on their way to work.  Everyone watched.  

NO ONE stepped off the sidewalk to help.

I know what it's like to lie in the street, bleeding and frightened, waiting for an ambulance to arrive. 

In 3-5 minutes, a person can bleed out from a serious wound.

It can take an average of 7-10 minutes for first responders to arrive.

I have no way of knowing if my outcome would have been different if a bystander had stepped in to stop the bleed.  

But perhaps it would have been worth a try.

We can all learn the basics. Check out Stop the Bleed Project for more information.  

You can view a short video here.  
Or a longer video here.

This month, I learned the basics and joined the Jefferson Team to help educate the public. 

It was just my first step into this important cause.  More to come...

ANYONE CAN BE A HERO.

P.S.  Stop the Bleed Kits and other first aid supplies are readily available - even on Amazon.

10 Blocks Away

Hello from Mile Marker 10,544...

It's a beautiful morning in Philly.

The neighborhood is quiet.  A young couple snaps wedding photos in the sunlight.  When I walk by Old Christ Church, a choir sings on the breeze. 

My new foot feels especially springy.  

People smile.  Say good morning.  Breathe the fresh air.

The humidity has somehow vanished overnight.

Also overnight, my phone tinged with this text message:

2 AM:  There was a shooting incident in the vicinity of 4th and South Streets.  The Center City ED has received multiple victims.  There is significant police presence around the emergency department.  The ED is on divert...

Have Heroes

Long awaited greetings from Mile 9,449...

Ever have a moment where you just don't have the words?

Or possibly, a year??

At Mile 9,449, I take my first steps inside Jefferson Hospital since before the pandemic began...

Some Kind of... Cookies

Mile Marker 8460:

Don't just sit there, do something.  But what about when there's nothing we CAN do?

Mile 8,460 starts with a text from Nurse Deb, on the front lines. 

Trauma Survivors Day

Mile Marker 7395:

Cycling with surgeons?  Yes please.

On the heels of Nurse Appreciation Week comes Trauma Survivors Day.

Coincidence?  I think not.  

Nurse Appreciation Week

Mile Marker 7377:

Cure sometimes, treat often, comfort always.

--Hippocrates

I don't remember the first week after my accident.  

Follow Me to Austria!

Mile Marker 6625:

Ready for take-off...

It sounds surreal when I say I'll be competing for Team USA in the Paraclimbing World Championships, but it's happening!!

Here's some info if you want to play along...

Thanks JT!

Mile Marker 6575:

You never know when you'll meet (or need!) an emergency physician.

I met Angela at Jefferson's Trauma Survivor Cycle-A-Thon last spring.  She'd just become Chief Resident in Emergency Medicine at Jefferson Torresdale Hospital, a Level 2 Trauma Center in northeast Philadelphia.

When we started pedaling, we didn't know much about each other, but as we rode...

What Happened to You?

Mile Marker 5575:  

On a Saturday afternoon, my mom and I are running errands at the Montgomery Mall.  As I'm strolling through Macy's housewares department, a saleswoman turns to me unexpectedly.

"What happened to you?"  she says.

For a split-second, I have no idea what she's talking about.  What happened to me?  When?  Today?

Handled With Care

Mile Marker 446:

Cleverness is a gift; kindness is a choice.

--Jeff Bezos, founder of Amazon, speaking at Princeton University’s Graduation

‘Tis the season for speeches and send-offs.  Everyone, it seems, is going somewhere.  Moving on.

Last Wednesday, I stood behind a podium as tall as I was.  The auditorium was filled with doctors, nurses, hospital administrators, patients, and families (including mine).

At Mile Marker 446, I was honored to be speaking at Jefferson Hospital’s Excellence in Trauma Awards. 

My voice echoed through the large room.  I talked about strength, compassion, courage, and hope.  I tried to explain all that my medical team had done for me.  How, for the past 18 months, I’d been handled with such CARE.

As the words unfolded, I studied the audience.  Nods, chuckles, even a few tears.  But was I getting my point across?

Near the end of the speech, I spotted a friendly face in the front row.   Dr. Nate.   He looked different in his suit and tie.  But then he shot me a smile and a quick wink.  Yep, that was him.

As a resident, Dr. Nate embodied what I was trying to say.   Day after day, his tall frame filled my hospital doorway.  His disarming half-smile calmed my nerves.

He became so familiar that I never even bothered with his last name.  Like Madonna, or Adele, or Prince -- he was simply Nate.  The Best Supporting Surgeon on my amazing team.

He set the bar high for newer residents.  I wouldn't let them touch my bandages or detach the Wound Vac machine without his supervision.  And he was a MASTER of distraction.   He used his sense of humor – along with a strong IV drip -- to keep me in stitches !  (The "ha ha" kind.)

But the moment I remember most came five days after my bowel obstruction surgery.   I just couldn't bring myself to try solid food.  I could not forget that excruciating pain.

With impeccable timing, Dr. Nate popped into my doorway.  “Want to see a picture of your intestines?” he asked.

He wore a mischievous smile.  It was lunchtime.

I glanced down at the untouched Salisbury steak on my tray.  “Sure,” I said.  “Why not?"

Nate bent down to show me.  In the photo, my intestine looked like a pinkish-brown zig-zagging ribbon, gathered tightly by a thick, dark rubber band.  Below the band, it swelled up like a bubble of inflated chewing gum.  The source of the pain.

Nate pointed to the evil-looking rubber band.  “See this part?” he said.  “It’s not there anymore.”

So that was it.  He’d given me proof.  My intestines and I were free!

With that picture engraved in my mind, I started eating.  Right then and there.  Sometimes medicine just needs a little extra touch.


When the awards ceremony ended on Wednesday afternoon, I talked with my nurses and doctors.  Thanking them for all they'd done -- however big or small.

"But I only took care of you a few times," said Nurse Leslie.

"You were there for me when I needed you," I replied, "and you're there for OTHERS everyday."

Nurses Julie and Deb...
Where would I be without them??

Each person at that ceremony -- doctors, nurses, patients, and families -- had stories to tell.  Snapshots of strength and sadness, courage and hope.  Small moments they remembered.  People and events that had come together to create HEALING.

I chatted with Dr. Nate, too -- this time, without the need for IV cocktails or intestinal photos.

I learned he has 3 kids.  I learned he’s a cyclist who often bikes to work.  I also learned that it's his last year here, that he’s leaving in June to take a research position at another hospital.

This third fact occupied my mind the whole way home.

Because when Dr. Nate goes, my hospital will lose a drop of its KINDNESS.  Just one small spoonful in the vast ocean that exists there.  But it will leave a ripple. 

As a teacher, I've grown used to graduations.   I know that endings are beginnings, too.  Still, not a day passes when I don't think about my medical team.  They are always there for me in the background, urging me ahead as I move on.

With Nate’s departure this summer, a new class of residents, nurses, and students will arrive -- full of enthusiasm and ready to learn.    

Pay attention, I want to tell them.  That bar is HIGH.

Because you are learning from the BEST.

Pedal on, Dr. Nate --

Wishing you a smooth road, a swift tailwind, and a safe ride!