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BookPost Supplement
The gulf between good published writers and bad published writers
is wide, but that between writers who research well and seriously,
and then use that research wisely, and writers who are too lazy
to research, and who use what little knowledge they have carelessly,
is even wider.
We have named Diana Gabaldon as one whose dedication to authenticity
we can admire without reservation. Yes, okay, she admits she hasn't
actually, herself, been timewarped from a Scottish stone circle
back into the Jacobite conflict of the 18th century (not yet,
anyway), but in her quest to establish the historical accuracy
of what she writes about that period she has explored almost everything
else.
Naturally, as do now so many successful authors, she exploits
the Internet's resources with zest, using both the Web and relevant
bulletin boards. And she receives a lot of help from the friendships
she has formed online. We quote here an example, and do so for
two reasons. The first is to illustrate the depth of research
undertaken by good writers (and this really is a good sample of
Diana's operational method). The second is to illustrate the kindliness
and expertise the Internetters make so readily available.
So, from Ellen Mandell's post to the Writers' Forum on CompuServe,
here is ~
A Layman's Guide to Emergency Tracheostomy
A sudden jerk that doesn't crack the C-spine, snap the spinal
cord, or dislocate the cervical ver-er-te-bree-ee can still cause
extensive soft tissue injuries of the neck and throat. The object
so sublime is the resulting edema, which may take 12 to 24 hours
to develop. This can cause a critical airway obstruction and occasion
the need for an emergency tracheostomy. (Besides singing this
bit, I'm making a distinction between -otomy and -ostomy; in the
latter, a stoma is kept open by picking up the margins of the
tracheal incision with hooks and tacking the wound edges to the
skin with a few sutures.)
This not only fits the botched hanging and your imagery very well,
it forces Claire to make a horribly difficult clinical decision
and provides the possibility of a complete recovery ~ barring the scars and the slow resolution
of mental and physical post-traumatic symptoms like neck pain,
limited neck and shoulder girdle mobility, dizziness, headaches,
dysphagia, and nightmares. Also, from a novelistic perspective,
a tracheostomy calls for someone to hold Roger's life in steady hands and watch while Claire slits
his throat.
There is serious risk in moving Roger's head and neck; the sharp
edge of a fracture could severe the spinal cord; a vertebral dislocation
could compress the cord irreversibly. But the watcher must overextend
Roger's neck and keep it from rotating, precisely countering the
forceful, yet delicate, tugs of a skilled surgeon.
Overextending the neck pulls the trachea cephalad out of the mediastinum,
displaces it forward, and tenses the skin and facsia. Straightening
the neck lines up the trachea between the jugular notch of the
sternum and the superior notch of the thyroid cartilage. That
makes the trachea easier to identify and centers it between the
great vessels on either side.
Any rotation of the head and neck leads to displacement of the
trachea, and this has caused fatal errors. There are case reports
of emergency operations where surgeons have lacerated a common
carotid artery or internal jugular vein, or missed the trachea
completely.
With a low tracheostomy, the procedure I think Claire would choose, there is grave risk of intractable hemorrhage
from communicating branches of the anterior jugular veins and
the midline vessels supplying the thyroid gland. (The thyroid
gland isthmus lies in front of the second, third, and sometimes
the fourth tracheal cartilages, which is where the trachea is
vertically incised, so the thyroid must either be mobilized headwards
~ if the isthmus is loosely adherent to the pretracheal fascia,
this can sometimes be done with blunt dissection by the fingers
~ or the isthmus must be clamped, divided, and ligated.)
There is also a risk of stabbing through the posterior membranous
portion of the trachea and perforating the esophagus; the tracheal
cartilages are U-shaped, not complete rings like the cricoid,
and a tracheo-esophageal fistula would no doubt have been fatal
in the eighteenth century.
Claire might do a cricothrotomy first; it's quicker, easier, and
safer. Since you know the anatomy, I expect you could do one in
an emergency; popping a small sharp tool through the cricothroid
ligament and turning it ninety degrees takes little more than
brass balls. But a cricothyrotomy might not relieve Roger's obstruction,
would be hard for Claire to keep open, and can lead to a scarred
and constricted airway ~ subglottic stenosis. Besides, it wouldn't
require a watchful assistant.
If Roger survives operation and regains consciousness quickly
enough that he doesn't succumb to dehydration ~ I suppose Claire
could try tube feeding or an IV ~ his wound may heal spontaneously.
(If it doesn't get infected and he doesn't die first from pneumonia,
that is. ) When the swelling lessens and he's clearly on the mend,
the silk sutures that were used to loosely tack the tracheal stoma
to the skin can be snipped, allowing the wound to heal by secondary
intention. The skin must never be sutured tightly around the trachea,
so that escaping air doesn't dissect into the mediastinum where
it might embarrass circulation or rupture into the pleural sac
and collapse lungs. Until the mucosa seals and the edges granulate
in, all that's needful is to keep the wound clean and lightly
covered.
Finally, I can't resist observing that a doctor who actually thinks
her primary obligation is "do no harm" wouldn't operate on a suffocating
patient with a bloody mess of a (possibly broken) neck under field
conditions. And we wouldn't do it bare-handed, either.
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