BLOG POST RETRIBUTION
When the Secretary of the Navy starts out by saying “ This
is not about retribution,” you can be SURE that is EXACTLY
what it is about : retribution.
The captain has the responsibility to lead the sailors under
his command; but he is also responsible for each man’s life and for making the
choices that protect his sailors’ lives. That is a grave and serious
responsibility.
When the ACTING Secretary of the Navy FAILED to respond to
the immediate and deadly threat of coronavirus ravaging the sailors on his
ship, the captain HAD TO ACT. If your chain of command does not
respond, you have to become a whistleblower.
And, you see, what he revealed to the press got action:
those sailors are now being taken off the ship. Their captain saved their LIVES.
He may have saved the entire crew. When you have a “break
the glass moment”, you must exercise courage-- and BREAK THE DAMN GLASS!
I had a situation like this when I was a third-year medical
student working in the ER. I encountered
a patient, an elderly African American man, who was complaining of the worst
abdominal pain of his life. He was sweating,
and short of breath. He was obviously in distress and he was frightened.
I cut to the chase . I quickly did an essential examination of
him while I was taking his history, listening to his story. On
physical examination, I found a huge, tense, pulsating mass in his belly.
Initially he had palpable pulses in his feet; but within a
few minutes on checking again, those
pulses had disappeared. The diagnosis? Dissecting Aortic Aneurysm.
This was an extreme emergency. Without immediate
lifesaving surgery, he would die within minutes. Period.
Like the captain of that ship, I had choices. The usual procedure
for a third-year student on a medical service who encountered a patient with a
surgical problem would be to do the following:
Medical student on a medicine service consult your
counterpart, the medical student on the surgery service. After that student had
responded to your call, arrived at the ER, examined the patient himself/herself, hopefully
agreed with your diagnosis, he or she would then consult the intern.
The intern would arrive, listen to the presentation , do his
own exam, and then he would consult the resident. The resident would do the
same.
Then he would call the who would
call the chief resident. You see what
kind of time would have been involved in following the usual protocol of
consultation for surgery.
The other choice --the one that I took --was to cut to the
chase, cut out all the middlemen. I called the chief
resident of surgery, Robert Sally M.D.—an unheard-of thing for a third-year
student to do.
I told him I had a
patient with a dissecting aneurysm who was rapidly decompensating—getting worse
as the dissection, which was happening in real time, continued to progress.
He came at once, but with the idea that he was going to tear
me a new one for daring to violate chain of command , or rules of consultation.
But instead, he found exactly what I told him was the case. He agreed with my diagnosis.
Bob Sally, Chief Resident himself raced my patient on a
stretcher to the OR, where he would begin the live-saving emergency operation, with
everything happening at once. The nurse
anesthetist would proceed with intubation and induction of anesthesia, while
the scrub nurse prepped the patient’s chest and belly with betadine.
The circulating nurse would be opening and setting out the
surgical instruments. Another nurse would be starting an IV, while drawing blood
for type and cross match, while someone else ran to the Blood Bank for O
negative blood for initial transfusion. There
is more that would be taking place SIMULTANEOUSLY, but you get the idea.
My decision to call the Chief Resident directly and
immediately saved my patient’s life.
My judgement that the life of the man was vastly more important
that the chewing out and reprimand I was
risking for violating procedure and protocol. I did not hesitate.
The Captain of the ship did exactly the same thing. He took
immediate action to save the lives of his crew.
He reached out to the ACTING Secretary of the Navy who hesitated. There
is not time to hesitate when there is a gun pointed at your head. You have to ACT.
Covid 19 is highly contagious. It is transmissible for
perhaps two weeks when carriers are asymptomatic.
It spreads in close quarters. You don’t get any closer
quarters than on an aircraft carrier, three men to a bunk wall, inches apart, using all the same facilities,
breathing the same air, coughing, sneezing, wiping their hands; touching their eyes and faces…there
could not be a more hospitable environment for the virus.
There could
not be a more dangerous environment for our courageous young sailors who took oaths to
defend this nation with their lives. If combat were threatening their lives,
that would be one thing.
But as the captain said, to leave them on the battlefield completely
defenseless against an unseen enemy even more deadly that
bullets? That would be unconscionable.
To leave them on that ship, while Command took their own
sweet time to try to figure out what to do, that would be comparable to the
Captain taking a gun and shooting each sailor in the head. The captain did the right thing.
He did the only thing
left to him to do, when following protocol got no response. He acted to save the lives of his sailors. I am sure he
would do it again.
The fact that he has been relieved of his command for saving
his sailors’ lives and saving his ship is despicable-- and, yes, it is
definitely retribution.
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