Coincidences: Venice, Italy

Venice was everything I had thought it would be.  Ancient architecture, narrow, cobblestone walkways within the city, canals as major thoroughfare.  My romantic notion of a floating Venice in a Gondola was yanked when I found out how much it would cost a young traveler on a budget. Water-buses were the way to go. Cheap and convenient, they were everywhere.

On one such excursion, I noticed a young lady who (for some unknown reason) looked like she was English-speaking. Killing time, and using my standard while-traveling-through-Europe-line, I approached her...

• Me: "Hi, So, where are you from?"
• Her: "Dallas, Texas"
• Me: "Getouttahere! So am I!"
• Her: "Really? I've been here a while, going to Art School."
• Me: "Wow, that must be cool."
• Her: "Yeah, but my Dad had a heart attack a few weeks ago, so I think I might go back to Dallas."
• Me:"Huh. I'm a Cardiac Nurse in Dallas - What hospital was he in?"
• Her: "Baylor"
• Me: "Getouttahere - I work at Baylor - What's his name?"
• Her: (She told me her Dad's name)
• Me: "Ha! I just saw him last week and he's doing great!"

Strange how these things happen, don't you think?

Gang Night

I was working the 7pm to 7am shift at Baylor’s ER and it was rumored to be “Gang Night” in Dallas. Why Dallas gangs felt the need to show their mettle on a hot & humid night in August was beyond me but….

Was “gang night” for real? We weren’t sure, but the idea of one particular night where opposing gangs from all over Dallas demonstrated their fearlessness and courage by cutting up and shooting one another caught my attention.

So, amidst the usual chaos and cacophony of the ER on a typical Saturday night, we were all on the ‘alert’ for mass casualties to hit the door at any minute.

Around two in the morning, I saw two, tall healthy-looking African American men dressed in hooded, bulky winter jackets enter the ER through our ambulance entrance. Based on their unseasonable dress, I just knew they had to be armed. They looked like they meant business.

Not one for confrontation, I surprised myself when out of nowhere ‘I got up all in their bidness’... “What do you want?” I sternly asked the biggest guy. “My son’s been shot.” He responded. I looked at the other guy who did not appear to be in any distress when he promptly unzipped his jacket and I saw the baby.

The child was about 9 months old. Snatching him, I ran next door into Trauma one. He was barely alive, with a single bullet wound that had entered his right chest and exited out his back.

The ‘story’ was that these two guys were babysitting when they decided to go out for a drive.

The baby was in the back seat of the car when “some mother-f!#*er started shootin’ at us.”

The baby survived. Hopefully his first GSW would be his last but - I kind of doubt it.