Dr. Mirvis
is the Editor-in-Chief of this journal and Professor of
Radiology, Diagnostic Imaging Department, University of Maryland
Medical Center, Baltiimore, MD.
The editorial goal of
Applied Radiology
is, of course, to discuss issues of direct concern to medicine and
radiology without the discourse straying into matters of the human
condition. Sometimes these topics are inexorably linked, so I will
take some liberty here.
There is a season for trauma, at least in any place that has
something resembling distinct seasons like Baltimore. In saying
this, I am excluding mountain resorts in the ski season, which, of
course, have a wave of activity when the sport is "in season"--a
whole year's worth of business in the case of some orthopedic
practices perhaps. The trauma season does not come with the onset
of spring, but it has a temperature lag just like the weather
seasons. In Baltimore, the real trauma season begins in June and
continues until sometime in September. Many people that I've told
about this seem to be a bit incredulous and confused by such a
phenomenon. But every year as we plot our admissions to the trauma
center, we find the same pattern.
Undoubtedly, the temperature and humidity have a great deal to
do with creating this fluctuating volume of cases. When people are
hot and sweaty, they drink more alcohol, they drive faster, they
tend to exhibit more aggressive behavior, they work and play
outside more, and they are just plain feistier. After being cooped
up for the winter with its dreariness and cold, they begin to feel
alive and re-energized. To celebrate the arrival of the warmer and
longer days, they strive more to live in the moment. Unfortunately,
living in the moment usually means more risk-taking behavior, often
in or on a motor vehicle (car, motorcycle, boat, etc.). Put all
this together and you get the trauma season. In this season,
baseball bats are the assault weapons of choice after knives and
guns. Out of season, it is the trusty and low-tech snow-shovel. The
force of motor-vehicle collisions and the resulting injuries
occurring in-season reflects, on average, a much higher kinetic
energy exchange than those out of season.
None of us is completely immune to the effects of the season. I
was recently driving in my midlife-crisis sports car (really bought
just for looks) on the New Jersey Turnpike. Out of nowhere, I was
suddenly challenged to a drag race by a turbo-charged, modified
sports car driven by a teenaged boy and his "dying to be impressed"
date. They were quite persistent, despite my obvious middle-aged
appearance and clear lack of enthusiasm to accept the challenge.
You see, I know it's the season. I understand something of what
life might feel like as a quadriplegic. I know that one can die
when behaving like a moron. What I wished I could do was to
communicate this clear insight somehow to my newly acquired
nemeses, to impart this profound truth,
You can die or be severely injured and live in constant agony
or, worse, kill some innocent person by behaving like a
jerk.
Even if you are not stupid, but smart, rich, and good-looking,
trauma can certainly find you and ruin your life. Why make it easy?
Alas, I had no means to get this message across. Instead, I threw a
gentle kiss to the young lady in the passenger's seat and waved
bye-bye. She responded with a universally understood digital
gesture and they moved along to find another victim to play
with.
I do not think our society does nearly enough to deter this kind
of behavior. We all share the "it can never happen to me" attitude,
and thus we see the resulting carnage on the highways and back
roads every day. Perhaps we can do more. Driver education students
come to visit our trauma center regularly to get just a feel of
what it might be like to be severely injured. A more lasting
impression might be made on these students if they listen to and
see their own peers who have survived major traumas. Cancer may
someday be cured, as will most infectious diseases probably, but,
sadly, physicians treating trauma patients will always have job
security.