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Sunday morning

I am pulled from a contemplative dose by the noise of my mobile phone. I pick it up. “Hello?”

“Sawubona doctor. It is Head Office in Pietermaritzburg. It is about your patient who is going to Durban.”

“Oh yes?”

“Unfortunately we were not able to do it yesterday but I just want to check that you are happy we do it now?”

“No problem – thank you very much.”

“Sharp! The helicopter will be there soon.”

“Fantastic – thanks so much.” I lie back for a few moments and then a thought crosses my mind. I pick up my hospital extension and call the High Care ward. “Sawubona Sister.”

“Hello doctor.”

“That patient for transfer to Durban…”

“Yes doctor?”

“Is she still alive?”

“Yes doctor.”

“Good.” It would have been hard to explain if the helicopter had flown a 600km round trip for the recently deceased. I check the clock: 7:30am. 7 hours glorious sleep. Fantastic! I feel I can take anything the last 24 hours of on call throws at me.

I throw on my clothes and potter over to outpatients. The marvellous Dr Zulu is still there having only had 4 hours sleep. He has left only 1 patient. I pack him off to bed. I nip into High Care to check on the patient for transfer. There are 2 new people as well: a man with a head injury following an assault and a gentleman with malaria (he travelled to Zimbabwe recently). Half way through the round there is a roar of air overhead – the helicopter has arrived. 15 minutes later the army of red jump-suit clad men fills the ward. The nurses and students who had been clustered around me on my round abruptly vanish to surround the much more interesting Air Mercy Service team. I am left with one student.

They wheel the patient out and a few minutes later the air roars once again and I see the helicopter circle the hospital site before heading south to Durban. I send up a silent prayer that it will all have been worth it for her – but whatever happens on this occasion the system worked and did all it could.

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