When I started medical school I participated in a ceremony where we were issued our first white coats and took the Hippocratic Oath. The Hippocratic Oath basically says that as a physician you will do everything in your power to help the sick and the dying, to do no harm to your patients, and avoid rendering care based upon moral or religious beliefs. I haven't thought about this much during the last 5 years I have been practicing medicine, but today for the first time in my career I realized the significance of those words I spoke way back in August of 2004.
We had two patients in the ER. On my left was a U.S. soldier that seriously injured after a grenade was thrown into his vehicle while out on patrol, tearing apart both his legs. On my right was the insurgent who had thrown the grenade at our soldier. He was shot multiple times in the back by our troops as he tried to run away after blowing up the vehicle. As the soldier in the bed next to me screamed in agony I looked over at the other man with disgust. For a moment I did not want to help him ... I wanted to strangle him ... to finish what our guys tried to do when they shot him. And then I took a deep breath and rembered who I was and why I was here ... and went to work doing what we do everyday.
Both patients left our hospital alive later that day. One flying back to the U.S. with a purple heart pinned to his chest, on his way to see his family and begin his long road to recovery. The other in stable condition after undergoing surgery to stop his internal bleeding, was flying to Camp Cropper (the Army's hospital for detainees) where he will begin his recovery. And afterwards I realized maybe it was for the best that he survived. Once he arrives there he will be interrogated and questioned, and perhaps give us some information that will prevent future attacks on U.S. soldiers. But more importantly, I learned a valuable lesson about myself and my obligation to the values of a profession I promised to uphold.
