What Triage is Like
There were 19 victims. Mr. Compagno’s job was triage: to assess the severity of injuries and label victims so that ambulance crews would know whom to tend to first. He realized instantly that there was no time to write labels. Ambulances and fire engines were roaring up. The victims dropped where they stood, forming a row 20 or 30 feet long.
Mr. Compagno could see quickly that five were dead, seven were “immediates,” needing help right away, and the rest could wait.
Full article on triage after the Arizona shooting tragedy.
Glad I don’t have to do it.
I agree with Tom. Some of the decisions must be hard to live with.
Sounds awful.
I do not envy the person who has to make that call. To the person who is hurt, nothing else matters. I’ve read similar articles about battlefield triage, where medics had to access who could be saved and who could not. One family whose son could not be saved did not like hearing that other soldiers were given a higher treatment priority because those soldiers had a better chance of survival.
It’s a job I’m glad I don’t have.
It’s an interesting concept. I think that most people go into auto-pilot in the emergency. It’s only later that they reflect on it.
Triage is probably one of the most basic illustrations of economic concepts: medical care is in scarce supply. Whom do you save?
It’s too bad that schools don’t use this concept when teach economics. It sure beats talking about the marginal cost of eating a sandwich instead of going to work out during my lunch hour.
Another thought: Did anyone else notice that the 9-year-old got precedence over the others, despite the fact that she appeared to have a poor prognosis?
I can see why: It’s tragic to see a 9-year-old die, but not so tragic for an older person. But, still, they definitely made a big trade-off.