All hail our second responders
From Philly.com, May 17, 2015
NURSE Pat Crowley has worked at Temple University Hospital long enough to expect certain emotional reactions from patients in the emergency room of the Level One trauma center. Grimaces, wails of pain, frantic yelling from relatives who’ve sped to the hospital after learning that a loved one has been shot. Impatience, fright, tears.
But the victims of Tuesday’s crash of Amtrak Train 188 were eerily mute, their faces blank, their eyes dry and unblinking. “That image has stayed with me,” says Crowley, who has seen a lot of traumatized people in his medical career – first as a Philadelphia firefighter and paramedic, now as an ER nurse at Temple.
“They had no expression. They could’ve been in line to buy movie tickets. All the noise was coming from around them. “We were shouting to each other: Do this! and Do that! But they were silent. I can still see them, in a line that went out the door. Some were standing, or leaning against somebody, or in wheelchairs. They were bloody, dirty, no shoes, their suits half-off, covered in soot, like they’d been in a fire. They were so quiet.”
From Philly.com, May 17, 2015
NURSE Pat Crowley has worked at Temple University Hospital long enough to expect certain emotional reactions from patients in the emergency room of the Level One trauma center. Grimaces, wails of pain, frantic yelling from relatives who’ve sped to the hospital after learning that a loved one has been shot. Impatience, fright, tears.
But the victims of Tuesday’s crash of Amtrak Train 188 were eerily mute, their faces blank, their eyes dry and unblinking. “That image has stayed with me,” says Crowley, who has seen a lot of traumatized people in his medical career – first as a Philadelphia firefighter and paramedic, now as an ER nurse at Temple.
“They had no expression. They could’ve been in line to buy movie tickets. All the noise was coming from around them. “We were shouting to each other: Do this! and Do that! But they were silent. I can still see them, in a line that went out the door. Some were standing, or leaning against somebody, or in wheelchairs. They were bloody, dirty, no shoes, their suits half-off, covered in soot, like they’d been in a fire. They were so quiet.”
From Philly.com, May 17, 2015
NURSE Pat Crowley has worked at Temple University Hospital long enough to expect certain emotional reactions from patients in the emergency room of the Level One trauma center. Grimaces, wails of pain, frantic yelling from relatives who’ve sped to the hospital after learning that a loved one has been shot. Impatience, fright, tears.
But the victims of Tuesday’s crash of Amtrak Train 188 were eerily mute, their faces blank, their eyes dry and unblinking. “That image has stayed with me,” says Crowley, who has seen a lot of traumatized people in his medical career – first as a Philadelphia firefighter and paramedic, now as an ER nurse at Temple.
“They had no expression. They could’ve been in line to buy movie tickets. All the noise was coming from around them. “We were shouting to each other: Do this! and Do that! But they were silent. I can still see them, in a line that went out the door. Some were standing, or leaning against somebody, or in wheelchairs. They were bloody, dirty, no shoes, their suits half-off, covered in soot, like they’d been in a fire. They were so quiet.”
From Philly.com, May 17, 2015
NURSE Pat Crowley has worked at Temple University Hospital long enough to expect certain emotional reactions from patients in the emergency room of the Level One trauma center. Grimaces, wails of pain, frantic yelling from relatives who’ve sped to the hospital after learning that a loved one has been shot. Impatience, fright, tears.
But the victims of Tuesday’s crash of Amtrak Train 188 were eerily mute, their faces blank, their eyes dry and unblinking. “That image has stayed with me,” says Crowley, who has seen a lot of traumatized people in his medical career – first as a Philadelphia firefighter and paramedic, now as an ER nurse at Temple.
“They had no expression. They could’ve been in line to buy movie tickets. All the noise was coming from around them. “We were shouting to each other: Do this! and Do that! But they were silent. I can still see them, in a line that went out the door. Some were standing, or leaning against somebody, or in wheelchairs. They were bloody, dirty, no shoes, their suits half-off, covered in soot, like they’d been in a fire. They were so quiet.”
From Philly.com, May 17, 2015
NURSE Pat Crowley has worked at Temple University Hospital long enough to expect certain emotional reactions from patients in the emergency room of the Level One trauma center. Grimaces, wails of pain, frantic yelling from relatives who’ve sped to the hospital after learning that a loved one has been shot. Impatience, fright, tears.
But the victims of Tuesday’s crash of Amtrak Train 188 were eerily mute, their faces blank, their eyes dry and unblinking. “That image has stayed with me,” says Crowley, who has seen a lot of traumatized people in his medical career – first as a Philadelphia firefighter and paramedic, now as an ER nurse at Temple.
“They had no expression. They could’ve been in line to buy movie tickets. All the noise was coming from around them. “We were shouting to each other: Do this! and Do that! But they were silent. I can still see them, in a line that went out the door. Some were standing, or leaning against somebody, or in wheelchairs. They were bloody, dirty, no shoes, their suits half-off, covered in soot, like they’d been in a fire. They were so quiet.”
From Philly.com, May 17, 2015
NURSE Pat Crowley has worked at Temple University Hospital long enough to expect certain emotional reactions from patients in the emergency room of the Level One trauma center. Grimaces, wails of pain, frantic yelling from relatives who’ve sped to the hospital after learning that a loved one has been shot. Impatience, fright, tears.
But the victims of Tuesday’s crash of Amtrak Train 188 were eerily mute, their faces blank, their eyes dry and unblinking. “That image has stayed with me,” says Crowley, who has seen a lot of traumatized people in his medical career – first as a Philadelphia firefighter and paramedic, now as an ER nurse at Temple.
“They had no expression. They could’ve been in line to buy movie tickets. All the noise was coming from around them. “We were shouting to each other: Do this! and Do that! But they were silent. I can still see them, in a line that went out the door. Some were standing, or leaning against somebody, or in wheelchairs. They were bloody, dirty, no shoes, their suits half-off, covered in soot, like they’d been in a fire. They were so quiet.”
From Philly.com, May 17, 2015
NURSE Pat Crowley has worked at Temple University Hospital long enough to expect certain emotional reactions from patients in the emergency room of the Level One trauma center. Grimaces, wails of pain, frantic yelling from relatives who’ve sped to the hospital after learning that a loved one has been shot. Impatience, fright, tears.
But the victims of Tuesday’s crash of Amtrak Train 188 were eerily mute, their faces blank, their eyes dry and unblinking. “That image has stayed with me,” says Crowley, who has seen a lot of traumatized people in his medical career – first as a Philadelphia firefighter and paramedic, now as an ER nurse at Temple.
“They had no expression. They could’ve been in line to buy movie tickets. All the noise was coming from around them. “We were shouting to each other: Do this! and Do that! But they were silent. I can still see them, in a line that went out the door. Some were standing, or leaning against somebody, or in wheelchairs. They were bloody, dirty, no shoes, their suits half-off, covered in soot, like they’d been in a fire. They were so quiet.”
From Philly.com, May 17, 2015
NURSE Pat Crowley has worked at Temple University Hospital long enough to expect certain emotional reactions from patients in the emergency room of the Level One trauma center. Grimaces, wails of pain, frantic yelling from relatives who’ve sped to the hospital after learning that a loved one has been shot. Impatience, fright, tears.
But the victims of Tuesday’s crash of Amtrak Train 188 were eerily mute, their faces blank, their eyes dry and unblinking. “That image has stayed with me,” says Crowley, who has seen a lot of traumatized people in his medical career – first as a Philadelphia firefighter and paramedic, now as an ER nurse at Temple.
“They had no expression. They could’ve been in line to buy movie tickets. All the noise was coming from around them. “We were shouting to each other: Do this! and Do that! But they were silent. I can still see them, in a line that went out the door. Some were standing, or leaning against somebody, or in wheelchairs. They were bloody, dirty, no shoes, their suits half-off, covered in soot, like they’d been in a fire. They were so quiet.”
From Philly.com, May 17, 2015
NURSE Pat Crowley has worked at Temple University Hospital long enough to expect certain emotional reactions from patients in the emergency room of the Level One trauma center. Grimaces, wails of pain, frantic yelling from relatives who’ve sped to the hospital after learning that a loved one has been shot. Impatience, fright, tears.
But the victims of Tuesday’s crash of Amtrak Train 188 were eerily mute, their faces blank, their eyes dry and unblinking. “That image has stayed with me,” says Crowley, who has seen a lot of traumatized people in his medical career – first as a Philadelphia firefighter and paramedic, now as an ER nurse at Temple.
“They had no expression. They could’ve been in line to buy movie tickets. All the noise was coming from around them. “We were shouting to each other: Do this! and Do that! But they were silent. I can still see them, in a line that went out the door. Some were standing, or leaning against somebody, or in wheelchairs. They were bloody, dirty, no shoes, their suits half-off, covered in soot, like they’d been in a fire. They were so quiet.”
From Philly.com, May 17, 2015
NURSE Pat Crowley has worked at Temple University Hospital long enough to expect certain emotional reactions from patients in the emergency room of the Level One trauma center. Grimaces, wails of pain, frantic yelling from relatives who’ve sped to the hospital after learning that a loved one has been shot. Impatience, fright, tears.
But the victims of Tuesday’s crash of Amtrak Train 188 were eerily mute, their faces blank, their eyes dry and unblinking. “That image has stayed with me,” says Crowley, who has seen a lot of traumatized people in his medical career – first as a Philadelphia firefighter and paramedic, now as an ER nurse at Temple.
“They had no expression. They could’ve been in line to buy movie tickets. All the noise was coming from around them. “We were shouting to each other: Do this! and Do that! But they were silent. I can still see them, in a line that went out the door. Some were standing, or leaning against somebody, or in wheelchairs. They were bloody, dirty, no shoes, their suits half-off, covered in soot, like they’d been in a fire. They were so quiet.”
From Philly.com, May 17, 2015
NURSE Pat Crowley has worked at Temple University Hospital long enough to expect certain emotional reactions from patients in the emergency room of the Level One trauma center. Grimaces, wails of pain, frantic yelling from relatives who’ve sped to the hospital after learning that a loved one has been shot. Impatience, fright, tears.
But the victims of Tuesday’s crash of Amtrak Train 188 were eerily mute, their faces blank, their eyes dry and unblinking. “That image has stayed with me,” says Crowley, who has seen a lot of traumatized people in his medical career – first as a Philadelphia firefighter and paramedic, now as an ER nurse at Temple.
“They had no expression. They could’ve been in line to buy movie tickets. All the noise was coming from around them. “We were shouting to each other: Do this! and Do that! But they were silent. I can still see them, in a line that went out the door. Some were standing, or leaning against somebody, or in wheelchairs. They were bloody, dirty, no shoes, their suits half-off, covered in soot, like they’d been in a fire. They were so quiet.”
From Philly.com, May 17, 2015
NURSE Pat Crowley has worked at Temple University Hospital long enough to expect certain emotional reactions from patients in the emergency room of the Level One trauma center. Grimaces, wails of pain, frantic yelling from relatives who’ve sped to the hospital after learning that a loved one has been shot. Impatience, fright, tears.
But the victims of Tuesday’s crash of Amtrak Train 188 were eerily mute, their faces blank, their eyes dry and unblinking. “That image has stayed with me,” says Crowley, who has seen a lot of traumatized people in his medical career – first as a Philadelphia firefighter and paramedic, now as an ER nurse at Temple.
“They had no expression. They could’ve been in line to buy movie tickets. All the noise was coming from around them. “We were shouting to each other: Do this! and Do that! But they were silent. I can still see them, in a line that went out the door. Some were standing, or leaning against somebody, or in wheelchairs. They were bloody, dirty, no shoes, their suits half-off, covered in soot, like they’d been in a fire. They were so quiet.”
From Philly.com, May 17, 2015
NURSE Pat Crowley has worked at Temple University Hospital long enough to expect certain emotional reactions from patients in the emergency room of the Level One trauma center. Grimaces, wails of pain, frantic yelling from relatives who’ve sped to the hospital after learning that a loved one has been shot. Impatience, fright, tears.
But the victims of Tuesday’s crash of Amtrak Train 188 were eerily mute, their faces blank, their eyes dry and unblinking. “That image has stayed with me,” says Crowley, who has seen a lot of traumatized people in his medical career – first as a Philadelphia firefighter and paramedic, now as an ER nurse at Temple.
“They had no expression. They could’ve been in line to buy movie tickets. All the noise was coming from around them. “We were shouting to each other: Do this! and Do that! But they were silent. I can still see them, in a line that went out the door. Some were standing, or leaning against somebody, or in wheelchairs. They were bloody, dirty, no shoes, their suits half-off, covered in soot, like they’d been in a fire. They were so quiet.”
From Philly.com, May 17, 2015
NURSE Pat Crowley has worked at Temple University Hospital long enough to expect certain emotional reactions from patients in the emergency room of the Level One trauma center. Grimaces, wails of pain, frantic yelling from relatives who’ve sped to the hospital after learning that a loved one has been shot. Impatience, fright, tears.
But the victims of Tuesday’s crash of Amtrak Train 188 were eerily mute, their faces blank, their eyes dry and unblinking. “That image has stayed with me,” says Crowley, who has seen a lot of traumatized people in his medical career – first as a Philadelphia firefighter and paramedic, now as an ER nurse at Temple.
“They had no expression. They could’ve been in line to buy movie tickets. All the noise was coming from around them. “We were shouting to each other: Do this! and Do that! But they were silent. I can still see them, in a line that went out the door. Some were standing, or leaning against somebody, or in wheelchairs. They were bloody, dirty, no shoes, their suits half-off, covered in soot, like they’d been in a fire. They were so quiet.”
From Philly.com, May 17, 2015
NURSE Pat Crowley has worked at Temple University Hospital long enough to expect certain emotional reactions from patients in the emergency room of the Level One trauma center. Grimaces, wails of pain, frantic yelling from relatives who’ve sped to the hospital after learning that a loved one has been shot. Impatience, fright, tears.
But the victims of Tuesday’s crash of Amtrak Train 188 were eerily mute, their faces blank, their eyes dry and unblinking. “That image has stayed with me,” says Crowley, who has seen a lot of traumatized people in his medical career – first as a Philadelphia firefighter and paramedic, now as an ER nurse at Temple.
“They had no expression. They could’ve been in line to buy movie tickets. All the noise was coming from around them. “We were shouting to each other: Do this! and Do that! But they were silent. I can still see them, in a line that went out the door. Some were standing, or leaning against somebody, or in wheelchairs. They were bloody, dirty, no shoes, their suits half-off, covered in soot, like they’d been in a fire. They were so quiet.”
From Philly.com, May 17, 2015
NURSE Pat Crowley has worked at Temple University Hospital long enough to expect certain emotional reactions from patients in the emergency room of the Level One trauma center. Grimaces, wails of pain, frantic yelling from relatives who’ve sped to the hospital after learning that a loved one has been shot. Impatience, fright, tears.
But the victims of Tuesday’s crash of Amtrak Train 188 were eerily mute, their faces blank, their eyes dry and unblinking. “That image has stayed with me,” says Crowley, who has seen a lot of traumatized people in his medical career – first as a Philadelphia firefighter and paramedic, now as an ER nurse at Temple.
“They had no expression. They could’ve been in line to buy movie tickets. All the noise was coming from around them. “We were shouting to each other: Do this! and Do that! But they were silent. I can still see them, in a line that went out the door. Some were standing, or leaning against somebody, or in wheelchairs. They were bloody, dirty, no shoes, their suits half-off, covered in soot, like they’d been in a fire. They were so quiet.”
From Philly.com, May 17, 2015
NURSE Pat Crowley has worked at Temple University Hospital long enough to expect certain emotional reactions from patients in the emergency room of the Level One trauma center. Grimaces, wails of pain, frantic yelling from relatives who’ve sped to the hospital after learning that a loved one has been shot. Impatience, fright, tears.
But the victims of Tuesday’s crash of Amtrak Train 188 were eerily mute, their faces blank, their eyes dry and unblinking. “That image has stayed with me,” says Crowley, who has seen a lot of traumatized people in his medical career – first as a Philadelphia firefighter and paramedic, now as an ER nurse at Temple.
“They had no expression. They could’ve been in line to buy movie tickets. All the noise was coming from around them. “We were shouting to each other: Do this! and Do that! But they were silent. I can still see them, in a line that went out the door. Some were standing, or leaning against somebody, or in wheelchairs. They were bloody, dirty, no shoes, their suits half-off, covered in soot, like they’d been in a fire. They were so quiet.”
From Philly.com, May 17, 2015
NURSE Pat Crowley has worked at Temple University Hospital long enough to expect certain emotional reactions from patients in the emergency room of the Level One trauma center. Grimaces, wails of pain, frantic yelling from relatives who’ve sped to the hospital after learning that a loved one has been shot. Impatience, fright, tears.
But the victims of Tuesday’s crash of Amtrak Train 188 were eerily mute, their faces blank, their eyes dry and unblinking. “That image has stayed with me,” says Crowley, who has seen a lot of traumatized people in his medical career – first as a Philadelphia firefighter and paramedic, now as an ER nurse at Temple.
“They had no expression. They could’ve been in line to buy movie tickets. All the noise was coming from around them. “We were shouting to each other: Do this! and Do that! But they were silent. I can still see them, in a line that went out the door. Some were standing, or leaning against somebody, or in wheelchairs. They were bloody, dirty, no shoes, their suits half-off, covered in soot, like they’d been in a fire. They were so quiet.”
From Philly.com, May 17, 2015
NURSE Pat Crowley has worked at Temple University Hospital long enough to expect certain emotional reactions from patients in the emergency room of the Level One trauma center. Grimaces, wails of pain, frantic yelling from relatives who’ve sped to the hospital after learning that a loved one has been shot. Impatience, fright, tears.
But the victims of Tuesday’s crash of Amtrak Train 188 were eerily mute, their faces blank, their eyes dry and unblinking. “That image has stayed with me,” says Crowley, who has seen a lot of traumatized people in his medical career – first as a Philadelphia firefighter and paramedic, now as an ER nurse at Temple.
“They had no expression. They could’ve been in line to buy movie tickets. All the noise was coming from around them. “We were shouting to each other: Do this! and Do that! But they were silent. I can still see them, in a line that went out the door. Some were standing, or leaning against somebody, or in wheelchairs. They were bloody, dirty, no shoes, their suits half-off, covered in soot, like they’d been in a fire. They were so quiet.”