On my first trauma shift as a fourth-year medical student, a young, disheveled man with blood-soaked pants hobbled into the emergency department. Wincing in pain, he offered me a bizarre history of being shot in the leg by a nail gun that went off after he dropped it on some stairs while helping a friend move. He lifted his right pant leg and removed the bloody, tattered bandana wrapped around ...

Read more...

1 Pages

Most Popular