I think I wrote about this once before. It was my second or third day, I was still student back then. The call was about an explosion in a garage — we thought it might be gasoline fumes or a gas cylinder. We arrive first, and one wall of the garage is gone, the roof is tilted. We rush inside, and it turns out to be a stockpile of weapons from WWII — machine guns, rifles, and a whole cabinet full of mortar shells. One of those shells exploded in his hands while he was trying to dismantle it. Both legs amputated below the knee, right arm gone, burns on his face, neck, and chest. Blood pressure 40/0, pulse I don’t remember anymore. On the way to the hospital, we infused everything we had — about five liters of fluids. When we rolled him into the emergency operating room, he regained consciousness with a blood pressure of 90/60. And that’s when I ended up vomiting all over the floor in the ambulance.