Chapter 9

I awoke the next morning to find myself being caressed and kissed by my two new wives. I could quickly become happily addicted to that kind of treatment as a morning wakeup call. Kissing them both back, I said, "We need to get up and get ready to go home."

As we left the wedding lodge, we heard quiet snickers and hushed comments about the noise coming from our lodge the previous night, accompanied by other remarks about lack of sleep. I blushed about three shades of red, while the twins acted as if they were actually proud of the racket they'd made. Thus, they just smiled as they went about getting breakfast ready and packing for an early start home. I swear if they'd have been cats, they would've had feathers sticking out of their mouths...

However, it wasn't long before I found out that other events and actions would intrude upon our lives so that an early departure for home just was not meant to be ... While I waited for breakfast, I had gone over to join the men at Red Cloud's fire where I heard Grandpa as he announced, "Two Lives ... Red Cloud and Crazy Horse have a request for you — they have three braves that are badly wounded. They would like you to take a look at them and see if you can help them."

I was disappointed at not being able to get my sweeties home as soon as I wanted, but there were injured people who needed my help. I put on my 'doctor' face. "Sure. Where are they?"

Grandpa waved toward the lodge where I had worked on Deer. "Two of them are in the same lodge that Running Deer was in — they are her cousins. The third is in the next lodge, but he refuses to be seen by a white eyes."

Little Doe had been heading my way, presumably to call me to breakfast. When she overheard Grandpa tell me that her cousins were injured, Little Doe followed me into the lodge, leaving Deer to tend to the food. As I entered, I quickly assessed my patients and noted that one had been shot in the thigh, while the other had a nasty head wound.

I went over to examine the one that had been shot more closely. I quickly determined that the bullet was still in the wound. It was also infected, causing him to run a high fever.

When I checked my other patient, I saw that he had a large gash in the temple. Upon examining his eyes, I discovered one pupil larger than the other, which indicated at the very least a serious concussion, and possibly worse — a true brain injury. He was conscious and responsive, but slow.

There was little I could do for a serious head injury other than clean and dress any open wounds, make the patient comfortable and then watch over them for at least 48 hours — the standard treatment for concussion.

I asked Little Doe if she had paid attention when I cleaned up Deer's scrapes yesterday. She showed me she had, as, without direction, she retrieved the bandages and anti-bacterial soap from my pack which I had left in the lodge. Confident she knew what to do, I had Doe clean and wrap the head wound and instructed her to keep a watch on him while I tended to the other injured brave. We could only hope that the injury wasn't as serious as it looked and that nature would take its course, allowing him a full recovery without any neurological impairments.

While Doe tended to the head injury, I had the bullet-wounded warrior carried outside where there was better light. As they moved my patient, I followed behind, bringing my large pack with all my surgical gear. Moving the injured man outside also meant I could use my ether mask and ether safely with little risk of gassing everyone in the closed space of the lodge.

Ether may be a primitive anesthetic, but it works, and I had included it in my medical kit because, in my time it was readily available almost anywhere in the world, which made it ideal for field conditions. Coincidentally and fortunately, it was also readily available in this time period and had seen growing use as an anesthetic since Dr. C.W. Long first demonstrated its use in 1842.

Once I had the patient situated for the best possible light, I set out my equipment and asked to have lots of water boiled and handy while I worked, explaining how to keep it covered as it cooled so it remained sterile. Next, using my ether rig, I anesthetized him. I don't care how tough even the strongest warrior thinks he is, having a gunshot wound cleaned, probed and cleaned again is extremely painful, and is far better done with the patient knocked out. It certainly makes the surgeon's job much easier if he doesn't have to deal with a patient thrashing about in agony...

As soon as my patient was under, I cleaned and irrigated the wound thoroughly with antibacterial soap and lots of clean water until it was bleeding freely and all evidence of puss had disappeared. Next, using a surgical probe, I carefully felt in the wound track for the bullet and any other foreign bodies that might be impacted into the wound.

I soon located the bullet, which appeared to be in one piece, not too surprising, as the large caliber low-velocity bullets in use at this time rarely fragmented unless they struck bone. Then, using a small hemostat, I extracted the bullet then thoroughly washed out the wound again. Gently probing the wound track again, I found and removed a small piece of cloth that roughly matched the hole in his pants where the bullet had struck him. After irrigating and flushing the wound one more time, I probed the wound once more, finding no other foreign objects.

Satisfied the wound was as clear of foreign objects and dirt as I could get it, I did a last thorough cleaning of the wound track with soap and water then flushed it with lots of clean water. I packed the wound track with antibiotic cream, applied a sterile dressing and secured it in place by wrapping his leg with a clean bandage. I gave him a shot of penicillin to help fight the infection and had him moved back into the lodge.

When he woke up from the ether, he threw up. He was embarrassed, but I explained it was normal because of the ether. When his nausea settled, I gave him a whole amoxicillin and left a few with Little Doe and the others who had been tending him and his mate. I instructed them on when to give the gunshot victim his meds, and to keep a close watch on both patients, knowing that with my sweetie as their nurse, they had the very best of care. Then, after packing my kit for moving, I slung it over my shoulder and went next door with Red Cloud and Crazy Horse to check the third injured brave.

As soon as we stepped into the lodge, I could tell that this brave hated the white man, as he just sat there glaring at me. He shouted at us in his own language till Red Cloud angrily barked something back, whereupon he quieted right down. He did sit still long enough for me to examine him. I discovered a large cut on his right thigh but he wouldn't let me touch it. I gave Red Cloud a look and after he again spoke harshly to the brave, told me to go ahead.

With Red Cloud's go-ahead, I checked the injury closer. Although it looked messy, it didn't appear to be infected yet, but would still need a thorough cleaning. There didn't appear to be any major muscle damage, although the cut was long and deep, probably from a knife or saber, and would require several stitches to close so it would heal properly. I figured it hadn't become septic because of the steady bleeding. It wasn't a gusher, but he would still weaken from loss of blood if it was left untreated.

I tried to give him a local for the pain but he refused it so I handed him a piece of leather to bite down, on telling him it was going to hurt like hell. Despite my obvious attempt to help him, he continued to glare at me. Deciding the best course of action was just to get on with it, I asked to have more sterile water brought in and when it arrived, began his treatment. Using more of the antibacterial soap, I cleaned the wound thoroughly then commenced to suture him up.

I put in 35 stitches and he never made a sound the whole time, just continuing to glare at me with hatred. After applying the antibacterial ointment and a sterile dressing, I wrapped his leg with clean bandages. I instructed him to keep it clean but could see that he wouldn't listen to me. I told Red Cloud that if he didn't do as I instructed, he would die or lose the leg. Red Cloud told me that someone would keep an eye on him and make sure he kept the wound clean. I knew that many Native poultices and ointments for wounds were very effective at preventing infection. Now that I had cleaned it and stitched it closed, they were ahead of the game and the Indian healers could take over with every hope of complete healing and recovery.

When I left the lodge, I found both my wives and let them know that we would be staying at least one more day while we kept our patients under observation and medical supervision.

After that, I went to talk with Grandpa. I found him with Red Cloud and some of the older men of the tribe, discussing what they would do next.

As I approached, I heard Grandpa saying, "Red Cloud, you are chief of the Sioux Nation. You need to speak to the government about the problems caused by the white men invading the Paha Sapa. You must convince them that the trouble really is caused by these trespassers, that it just isn't worth the bother, and they must leave.

"If you do it right, then the government will actually force the yellow iron hunters to leave — you must make it so the White Man's greed works for you and against them. But ... if you can't get them to understand, the gold hunters will keep coming and they will make all kinds of trouble. The White government won't let you punish the trouble makers and if you do, the government will take the Paha Sapa away.