FORTY-EIGHT HOURS AND THIRTYONE MINUTES Audrey N. Bell,
R.N. November 22, 1063, began as most Fridays. It was pay day and I had scheduled a luncheon appointment with Mr. Smith, the manager of the Adolphus Hotel at 12:15 p.m. to talk about the 1964 AORN Congress in Dallas. Dressed in my street clothes (instead of the usual grey OR dress) I was about to set out for my appointment, a little bit worried about my timing for the trip downtown.
President Kennedy’s visit was scheduled, and traffic tieups were inevitable. Thus, I felt somewhat relieved when Mr. Smith rang at about eleven, asking for a postponement of the meeting until Monday, since a portion of the facilities to be checked out were still occupied. So, I went to lunch with Dr. Jenkins instead, at the hospital cafeteria. We were going to discuss the patient safety program he was moderating at the coming Congress. Needless to say, this discussion was suddenly interrupted. About halfway through the meal, we heard the operator page
Dr. Shires “stat,” and then came Dr. Delaney’s “stat” page. I recalled that Dr. Shires was out of town. He and Dr. Delaney had performed a rather complicated operation a day or two before and we assumed the nurses needed assistance for that patient. We were just about to take Dr. Shire’s page when Dr. Ronald Jones came by, headed for the phone next to our table. Saying that he would take the page, he picked up the phone and hung up rather quickly. He returned to our table and leaning heavily, palms down on it, he said, his voice almost unnaturally calm and steady:
“The President’s been shot-he’s on the way to the Emergency Room.” For a long silent moment we stared at him in disbelief, then told him that someone was playing a joke, a bad crude joke. He said quietly, “NO, its not a joke.” There was no doubting his expression. We came to life. Together we moved quickly from the Dining Room and I said, “I better go to the Emergency Room.” “Okay,” he said, “I’ll go get an anesthesia machine and meet you there.” Time stood still for us. It is nearly impossible to recall all that took place and all that was done in such a short period. When I reached the emergency elevator, I found that it was in the basement. Still in my street clothes and high heels, which almost sent me sprawling,
I took the stairs and cut through the X-ray Department. At the door of the Emergency Suite, the administrator grasped my arm and it was a moment or two before she recognized me in the street clothes. “The President?” I breathed. “GO see what you can do, Audrey,” she replied. “In Emergency Room One.” Three Doctors and two nurses surrounded John F. Kennedy. They were working with mechanical precision. One nurse, Mrs. Hutton, was adjusting the IPPB unit. She asked for assistance. I turned on the oxygen at the wall outlet.
The machine started working and was connected to the endotracheal tube. I helped cut the President’s shirt from his right arm, and positioned the tracheotomy tray for Dr. Perry. It was then that I saw the massive head wound. Even though the prospect of surgery Tafter viewing the proportions of the wound and the general condition of the Presidentwas improbable, I rushed off in search of a
So not only did Nurse Audrey Bell confirm the bullet fragments that were pulled from Gov Connally that blow the ''Pristine Bullet'' theory to bits , but we also have her confirming what DR Perry and Clint Hill knew to be the truth about the back of JFKs head .
Thank you Audrey Bell for helping to expose the W.C Conspiracy.
R.N. November 22, 1063, began as most Fridays. It was pay day and I had scheduled a luncheon appointment with Mr. Smith, the manager of the Adolphus Hotel at 12:15 p.m. to talk about the 1964 AORN Congress in Dallas. Dressed in my street clothes (instead of the usual grey OR dress) I was about to set out for my appointment, a little bit worried about my timing for the trip downtown.
President Kennedy’s visit was scheduled, and traffic tieups were inevitable. Thus, I felt somewhat relieved when Mr. Smith rang at about eleven, asking for a postponement of the meeting until Monday, since a portion of the facilities to be checked out were still occupied. So, I went to lunch with Dr. Jenkins instead, at the hospital cafeteria. We were going to discuss the patient safety program he was moderating at the coming Congress. Needless to say, this discussion was suddenly interrupted. About halfway through the meal, we heard the operator page
Dr. Shires “stat,” and then came Dr. Delaney’s “stat” page. I recalled that Dr. Shires was out of town. He and Dr. Delaney had performed a rather complicated operation a day or two before and we assumed the nurses needed assistance for that patient. We were just about to take Dr. Shire’s page when Dr. Ronald Jones came by, headed for the phone next to our table. Saying that he would take the page, he picked up the phone and hung up rather quickly. He returned to our table and leaning heavily, palms down on it, he said, his voice almost unnaturally calm and steady:
“The President’s been shot-he’s on the way to the Emergency Room.” For a long silent moment we stared at him in disbelief, then told him that someone was playing a joke, a bad crude joke. He said quietly, “NO, its not a joke.” There was no doubting his expression. We came to life. Together we moved quickly from the Dining Room and I said, “I better go to the Emergency Room.” “Okay,” he said, “I’ll go get an anesthesia machine and meet you there.” Time stood still for us. It is nearly impossible to recall all that took place and all that was done in such a short period. When I reached the emergency elevator, I found that it was in the basement. Still in my street clothes and high heels, which almost sent me sprawling,
I took the stairs and cut through the X-ray Department. At the door of the Emergency Suite, the administrator grasped my arm and it was a moment or two before she recognized me in the street clothes. “The President?” I breathed. “GO see what you can do, Audrey,” she replied. “In Emergency Room One.” Three Doctors and two nurses surrounded John F. Kennedy. They were working with mechanical precision. One nurse, Mrs. Hutton, was adjusting the IPPB unit. She asked for assistance. I turned on the oxygen at the wall outlet.
The machine started working and was connected to the endotracheal tube. I helped cut the President’s shirt from his right arm, and positioned the tracheotomy tray for Dr. Perry. It was then that I saw the massive head wound. Even though the prospect of surgery Tafter viewing the proportions of the wound and the general condition of the Presidentwas improbable, I rushed off in search of a
So not only did Nurse Audrey Bell confirm the bullet fragments that were pulled from Gov Connally that blow the ''Pristine Bullet'' theory to bits , but we also have her confirming what DR Perry and Clint Hill knew to be the truth about the back of JFKs head .
Thank you Audrey Bell for helping to expose the W.C Conspiracy.
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