ABCD... in the bank, part 1

 ABCD... in the bank.

My phone rang at 12AM that day. I was in that stage of sleep where reality was dreamlike and  dreams  were tangible  and real. The sustained ringing of the phone jerked me out of my sweet dreams and  shook me out of its intoxicating effects. It was my  sister. She  skipped the salutations and blurted into my ear ,’ I  need 15000  immediately, my life depends on it!’. I wanted to ask her what the emergency was but she was too busy shouting instructions on how I could get the money to her with lightening speed .

I did not have that amount of money on me at that time. I never kept that much money on me just in case I ever  got robbed. I was always  sober and vigilant. I always took all the necessary precautions to prevent myself from getting robbed and I had been successful so far, but that day my luck run out.

I got to the International Technical Bank early in the morning at  exactly 8:30am. I was the first customer and the first to enter  through their doors as soon  as the bank opened. I wanted to skip the drama and delays of sitting and waiting in a queue all day long.The bank had numerous customers in my town but only one small branch. Customers fought in the queues over who came first and jumping of queues on a daily basis. On one of such occasions, a policewoman gave one man the  beating of his life because he jumped the queue to pay his daughter’s  senior high school fees. According to the man, the deadline for the payment was just an hour away and he couldn’t afford the penalty for late payment so he did what he had to do. No one was bothered by such occurrences now. They were part of the daily activities at the bank after all.

I didn’t want to get lynched by anyone , policewoman or not. Also my sister said it was an emergency so I got to the bank earlier than everyone. Within an hour I had the money. The bank was already filled with people who had come for various reasons, busily doing whatever they came to do. I stowed the money in my bag and headed for the exit. I was about to pull the door open when  two black ford vans  quickly came to a stop in front of the bank. A third one drove straight at the the exit door towards me. I quickly jumped  and threw myself sideways out of its way, narrowly escaping being squashed by it. The van came to an abrupt stop after breaking down the glass sliding doors.  Four Heavily armed and masked  men disembarked and a fire fight ensued between  them and the three policemen guarding the bank. They were armed to the teeth with AK47 guns and bulletproof vests. One of them had something that looked like a small pawpaw in one of the numerous pockets of his vest, a hand grenade. His fellow robbers had some in their pockets too.

After  5 minutes of intense  shooting , the  policemen were riddled with bullets and were all dead . One of the  armed men had sustained a gunshot injury to the chest and was surely going to die either from a haemothorax or a tension pneumothorax. I knew this because he was frantically beckoning to his comrades that he could not breath. They had come to rob the bank but had gotten off to a bad start. One of the robbers pointed his gun to the ceiling and fired warning shots to calm everyone. He then shouted that anyone who was a health worker should step forward immediately or else if they found out later they would pluck the person’s eyes out with the pens used to write at the bank.

I had my stethoscope in my bag together with the money I just withdrew. If they were to search my bag  they would know I was a health worker and I would lose my eyes, as if wearing glasses was not enough disability. Also, the  lines of the modern  Hippocratic oath  about helping anyone regardless of who  ‘they are’ kept resounding in my mind, but this guy was an robber who had just killed policemen and may even kill the rest of us too if he is made capable. I had only four minutes to decide.

I chose to save  him. I walked slowly with my hands raised in the air across the banking hall towards where he lay  gasping for air. My blood was fear coursing through my veins. I quickly went through the ABCD for dealing with trauma cases in my head. It was obvious that his airway was patent but he could not breath. His chest was hyper resonant  on percussion at the left  side, confirming a pneumothorax. He was also bleeding from  gunshot wound  to his left upper arm. I could not figure out the cause of the pneumothorax but that was not important at the time. 

To be continued....

E.Y.