The Seasoned Respiratory Therapist

The seasoned respiratory therapist sank into the role of a supportive observer. In the operating room of the small-town hospital on the picturesque western side of Michigan, right by the lake, she found herself as the sole respiratory therapist on duty. As the doctor delivered the first twin, the tiny newborn barely fit into the palms of the physician's hands. Yet, the precious sound of a crying heart filled the room—a reassuring blessing.

The doctor handed the fragile gift to a nurse, who swiftly placed the baby into a bassinet, initiating the initial assessment alongside the pediatrician. Meanwhile, the OBGYN seamlessly transitioned back to work, preparing to deliver the second baby.

As the second baby emerged, the absence of cries sent a sharp cringe through the seasoned respiratory therapist. A sudden wave of sadness gripped her, but she fought back panic and steadied her shaking hands. The lifeless, pale, wet, and petite child was handed off to the pediatrician, who placed the seemingly breathless infant into the bassinet. The seasoned RT quickly grabbed the neopuff mask, ready for action.

The doctor, using her stethoscope, confirmed the child's faint heartbeat, indicating a rate of 40. Without hesitation, the seasoned respiratory therapist firmly placed the mask on the child's face and sprang into action.

An hour and a half later, now in the family birthing unit, the seasoned RT had orchestrated the setup of the child on a ventilator, a tube in their tiny throat. The baby's vital signs—oxygen saturation at 90% and a heart rate of 140—stabilized. The child was breathing, a hopeful note in the midst of uncertainty.

The doctor, addressing the seasoned RT, remarked, "I'm told the child's grandma is here. If you'd like, you can bring her in before the baby is transferred to Big City Hospital."

To this, the seasoned RT replied, "I AM the grandma."

"That's okay," the seasoned respiratory therapist said, her lips pursed and eyes carrying a stoic expression—worn out, yet filled with pride and a touch of relief. "In moments like these, when you're the only respiratory therapist on duty, and it's someone you know, you just jump into action and do what you're trained to do. It's part of the job, and sometimes, the lines between professional duty and personal ties blur. It's tough, but it's what we sign up for in this profession."

As the room settled into a calm rhythm, the seasoned respiratory therapist took a deep breath, gathering the strength to continue. "And you know, despite the challenges, seeing those little ones breathing steadily—it's a reminder of why we endure the tough moments. We bring life into the world, and that's a privilege that keeps us going, no matter how hard it gets."