Compound Fracture Quotes

Okay then. Let’s go get our girl back." "My girl," I correct him. "She’s my girl." Kenji snorts as we head in the direction of the compounds. "Right. Minus the part where she’s not actually your girl. Not anymore." "Shut up." "Uh-huh." "Whatever.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that if you do something embarrassing like fall down the stairs in front of a group of people, you are required to act like you are fine, even if you aren't. Your arm could have a bone jutting out, and you would still try to laugh it off as if everything were hunky dory. This compound fracture? It's nothing! I like to let my bones out of my body once in a while for fresh air. It's good for them.

But while you’re here, officer, why don’t you hold this railroad spike for me? Hold it in your hand and tell me how heavy it is. Tell me which one of us you’d use it on. See what happens if you try.

Mary was the wife of Fowler Greenhill, M.D., of Fort Beulah, a gay and hustling medico, a choleric and red-headed young man, who was a wonder-worker in typhoid, acute appendicitis, obstetrics, compound fractures, and diets for anemic children.

Something like elephantiasis, only worse, affecting both arms and both legs. Drastic amputations indicated. Eye-sockets. Burns. Multiple and compound fractures. Punctured and incised wounds. Traumatism, ecchymosis, extensive extravasations, oedema. Profound systemic shock. The prognosis, however, seems to be favorable,

We've already killed one of them. What's a few more?

During the Second World War, for example, Lieutenant Colonel Henry K. Beecher conducted a classic study of men with serious battlefield injuries. In the Cartesian view, the degree of injury ought to determine the degree of pain, rather like a dial controlling volume. Yet 58 percent of the men—men with compound fractures, gunshot wounds, torn limbs—reported only slight pain or no pain at all. Just 27 percent of the men felt enough pain to request pain medication, although such wounds routinely require narcotics in civilians. Clearly, something that was going on in their minds—Beecher thought they were overjoyed to have escaped alive from the battlefield—counteracted the signals sent by their injuries. Pain was becoming recognized as far more complex than a one-way transmission from injury to “ouch.

Here we see the word "brain" occurring for the first time in human speech, as far as it is known to us; and in discussing injuries affecting the brain, we note the surgeon's effort to delimit his terms as he selects for specialization a series of common and current words to designate three degrees of injury to the skull indicated in modern surgery by the terms "fracture", "compound fracture," and "compound comminuted fracture," all of which the ancient commentator carefully explains.

There's a whole spectrum of reactions to coming out. Getting kicked out is one extreme–being accepted wholeheartedly is the other. But in the middle, there's this. The awkwardness, the refusals to acknowledge, the uncomfortable weirdness of turning away.

Recovered fracking waste is left in open-air pits to evaporate. This releases volatile organic compounds, creating contaminated air, acid rain, and ground-level ozone. Metal ball bearings are added to fracking fluids to keep the fractures open indefinitely. These toxic chemicals leach out and contaminate nearby groundwater. Drinking-water wells near fracturing sites have been found to contain concentrations of methane seventeen times higher than normal.

Some twenty minutes later, I was back at the river, and my son and father were waiting on the far side.  Crossing the swift river with my dad was something I was really dreading.  I helped him check his bandages, and he was under the impression that his injury was a compound fracture—bone sticking through flesh.  While I didn’t get a good look at the foot itself, I noticed there were blood blisters everywhere on his lower leg.  It was a shockingly bad injury, and I worried he might lose his foot.  It was time to cross the stream.  My son took my father’s left side, where he could keep close watch on the placement of the improvised wooden cane.  I took my father’s right arm in mine and silently prayed as our feet hit the water together.  Our footing held firm on the stream’s rocky bottom, and the rushing water didn’t rise above our knees.  I was so tremendously grateful at that final step onto the rocky shore, but there was lots of work still requiring our attention before my son and I could make the final journey to the trailhead beyond Lake Pamelia.

Seriously? You told him that?” Sophie bit her lip. “He sort of…pried it out of me. And then he wanted to go after Burke. I made him promise to stay away—well, not to kill him, but Sylvan went after him anyway.” “Really?” Olivia stared at her. “You mean he tracked down Burke after all these years and beat him up? That doesn’t sound like Sylvan to me.” “It’s not like him. At least, not as far as I can tell.” Sophie sighed unhappily. “I saw everything he did—he didn’t just beat Burke up—he broke his arm. A bad break. I could see the…the bones coming out of his skin all jagged and bloody…” The memory made her sick to her stomach and she shook her head, unable to continue. “A compound fracture, huh?” Olivia nodded thoughtfully. “That is bad.” “But that’s not all,” Sophie went on. “He also, uh, castrated him.” “He what?” Liv and Kat said together. “He did.” Sophie nodded. “With this little silver thingy. It was really small—it fit in the palm of his hand. But it burned Burke’s, uh, equipment right off. There was nothing left but a…but a scar.” She swallowed hard, willing her stomach to be steady. Considering the fact that she hadn’t eaten in well over twenty-four hours, she felt remarkably un-hungry. “I think I know what you’re talking about,” Liv said. “It’s mostly used for dermatological cases—when somebody needs a wart burned off or something. I never thought of burning off anything, uh, bigger.” “Well I guess Burke’s out of business.” There was no mistaking the satisfaction in Kat’s tone. “Permanently from the sound of it.” Liv laughed. “Good for Sylvan! I wish I could have seen it.” “I

As boiling patients and surgeons was not practical, Lister had to find some other way to safely eliminate germs on all surfaces. He settled on carbolic acid, a product made from coal tar that had been used successfully to treat stinking city drains and that had already been tried as a dressing on surgical wounds, without very positive results. Lister persevered and met with success in the case of an eleven-year-old boy who came to the Royal Infirmary with a compound fracture of the leg.

Kenji snorts as we head in the direction of the compounds. “Right. Minus the part where she’s not actually your girl. Not anymore.

What do you mean, it was that easy? No pushing back, no telling me how hard this will be for him. Just my new name, easy as that.

It was immediately evident that Tickets had suffered a compound fracture. A bone — his fibula, I believe — was protruding so far out of his leg that its outline was visible through his whites. He would probably never play cricket again. Lucky bastard.

There are a lot of things to have feelings about when your kid is trans! But don't have them at me.

I had a backpack with our water supplies and tossed in a crab net I’d found in the camp closet, just in case I needed to capture that bird. Or tie off a compound fracture. It could swing either way.

turned their attention to other reforms. Absent a collective, sustained dialogue around race, Oberlin and Berea fractured along color lines. The emergence of social evolutionism compounded Black and white estrangement by placing heredity before mutuality

Yes, how terrible and worrisome when those externals became like organs, unfastened by bones or flesh to their hosts. Victims, all of us, to a life eroded by digital rain, pickaxed apart by bits and digits, with the small death of ring after ring ghosting through the cracks—each one a momentary, thin spike slid into the ego, bruising it, whispering, “You’re nothing” into it, compounding fractures in it, year after year, until the result was a paranoid beast unable to disconnect its mind from its pocket as it bulged with a poisoned treasure.

I put air quotes around the word ethical. I regretted doing that. Instantly. I think that was what provoked him.

No, I’m wrong. I hope he’s not dead. I hope every bone in his body is broken, compound fractures and he’s lying down there in so much pain that he’s praying to die, watching his blood pouring into the dirt, but I hope he lasts for a long time and when he finally dies he goes straight to hell and burns there.