Broken Clocks

The blaring sound of the siren is deafening. I appear to be present, collected and
composed awaiting the arrival of my patient but my mind is distant and longing to be far from
here, the only thing holding me back, an email or phone call of approval. The doors of the
ambulance burst open, and two paramedics carted the stretcher out the vehicle and into the
emergency room with a third on top doing chest compressions.

‘Thirty-year-old male car crash victim, fractured left femur and blunt head trauma.
Patient fell unconscious en route and is in respiratory failure, let’s get him ventilated and
connected to an EKG machine stat,’ reported the paramedic administering CPR. Ventilator? EKG
machine? An exchange of frightened stares took place throughout the room. “Seizing chest
compressions,” he announced, dismounting the patient, “come on, stay with us Mr. Sterling.
Transferring patient to gurney, lift on two -one, two,” and with that, in a matter of less than ten
minutes patient handover was seamless and the team of paramedics were darting out the
emergency room with stretcher in hand and the room’s curtains shut behind them.

The head nurse spat orders in all directions to which we promptly responded. “Bag him
nurse Evands,” she demanded knowing the floor we were on had no functioning ventilator
machines. That’s never good news and though I seemed composed on the outside, I felt worried
for this man knowing the outcome might not be good. A team of six were at Mr. Sterling’s
disposal and among us six we had no working ventilators or EKG machines and no defibrillators,
unbelievable this place. Fifteen minutes of CPR and manual ventilation later, the bleeding had
not ceased, and the patient was showing no signs of life. “Seize compressions,” the head nurse
ordered and all hands were off the body and we froze in place as she took his pulse and checked
for a heart beat, “No pulse,” she confirmed and everyone’s face in the room showed clear defeat,
a feeling that has long resonated with me as I return home on countless occasions to empty
emails.

“Time of death?” she inquired, “NURSE! Are you deaf? I said time of death,” she
demanded, sending a visible jolt through my body snapping me back to reality and out of the
state of numbness I was trapped in staring down at the lifeless corpse that lay on the gurney in
front me. “My apologies,” I hesitated, looking up at the analogue clock on the wall; its minute
and hour hand stuck in place and its second hand twitching back and forth, broken, then down to
my fob watch, “9:35p.m.” This poor man can’t even get his rightful time of death to be written
on his death certificate I thought to myself, and an overwhelming feeling of sadness washed over
me, “I’m so sorry Mr. Sterling,” I whispered under my breath to the corpse before draping a
sheet over his body. My heart sank and the coldness of the atmosphere began to settle in, I felt
numb knowing now that I bear the burden of breaking the news to this man's family.
 Entering the room, I was bombarded by worried family members asking for news of a
number of different persons to which I disappointed, announcing, “I’m looking for the family of
Mr. Sterling.” A slender woman in her mid thirties, I’d assume, with a few visible cuts and
bruises on her body cradling an infant no older than six months old, thankfully with no visible
injuries, approached me. “It’s with regret I inform you that despite the best efforts of my team-,”
I began before being prompted by her to stop with the raise of her hand. With that, she went back
to her seat and embraced her baby crying silently. I wouldn’t want comfort from myself either. I
re-entered that dreaded room and sat by the useless equipment and under the broken clock to
account for this poor gentleman who was stripped of his fighting chance at life. I hate this place.

One draining patient report and a long car ride home later, I was home.

“Cassedy, waah gwan girl,” my roommate greets me at the door.

“Today did rough man,” I replied, dropping my bags on the floor, “Me well tiad,” I
confirmed while hardly being able to drag my slouching and nearly toppling over body through
the front door, nonetheless, I managed to make it over to the couch, throwing my exhausted shell
of a body into it.

“Suh yuh nuh hear back from embassy yet girl? How long now dem fi call yuh? A you mi

a wait pon enuh, hurry up and get di work visa mek wi cut from yassuh nuh man,” she says, and I
couldn’t agree more. I heard my phone ring, but it was most likely the hospital calling me to tell
me they were understaffed again and needed me to work an extra shift, but I was tired.

“Hello, good night,” I grumbled reluctantly with my face partially buried in the cushions
of my couch and my eyes hardly open.

“Good night, am I speaking to Ms. Cassedy Evands?” The voice on the other side of the
phone inquired.

“This is she,” I confirmed, “To whom am I speaking and how may I help?”

“This is Richard Crawford and I’m calling from the US Embassy in regard to your
pending work visa and I have some good news. Is now a good time to talk Ms. Evands?”

A sigh of relief and a weight lifted off my shoulders, “Yes, now’s a good time.”
LANGUAGE ANALYSIS
The reflective piece ‘Broken Clocks’ recounts a challenging day in the life of a middle-aged healthcare
worker and through a series of events captures aspects of the individual’s day that may have been factors influencing
the character’s longing for a pending work visa to work overseas rather than locally. In fulfilling the writer’s
purpose, a mixture of language conventions is employed, and this part of the portfolio will focus on highlighting and
analyzing the use of the language registers, frozen and intimate, as well as the use of the communicative behaviors,
use of posture and paralanguage.

In the extract ‘Broken Clocks’ the writer utilizes a number of registers, one of which being the frozen
register. Evidence of this is seen in the second stanza, ‘Thirty-year-old male… -one, two,” where the paramedic
speaks to the team of doctors expecting no direct response from them providing them also with numerous amounts
of information about the patient. This feature allowed for the writer to create suspense and portray the seriousness of
the event taking place foreshadowing also the conflict of the not functioning hospital equipment where instructions
to ventilate and connect the patient to an EKG machine caused for an exchange of frightened stares to take place
among the team of doctors in the room. Evidence of the intimate register is seen being used in the ninth stanza, ‘Suh
yuh nuh… nuh man,’ where upon Cassedy’s arrival at home she is greeted by her roommate and partakes in an
exchange of words. This feature allowed for the close relationship between Cassedy and her roommate to have been
established and allowed also for an exchange of personal thoughts and feelings allowing for the writer to make
known the fact that the roommate has been approved of her work visa bringing light to the fact that possibly the only
reason Cassedy is still working under undesirable conditions is due to the fact that her work visa is yet to have been
approved.

Employed also in the extract is a series of communicative behaviors, one being the use of posture where in
stanza eight, ‘Hardly being able to drag my slouching and nearly toppling over body through the front door,’ allows
for the author to paint an image of just how tired and exhausted Cassedy is and in effect add emphasis to just how
draining a day of work under the undesirable conditions highlighted in the extract may be for her. Lastly,
paralanguage is seen being used in stanza ten, ‘I grumble reluctantly,’ where the use of tone allows for the writer to
depict the emotions of the character. Here it can be inferred that by the phone ringing, Cassedy is led to think that
she might need to work an extra shift at the hospital and depicts also the feeling of remorse that might have also
been experienced. Hints at disappointment could also be made to the tone used as this may be linked also to the fact
that Cassedy is disappointed in the fact that she is yet to have been approved for her work visa and is feeling sad and
defeated.

To conclude, by use of the language registers, frozen and intimate, as well as the use of the communicative
behaviors, use of posture and paralanguage, the writer was able to foreshadow events, depict a variety of feelings
and make known crucial information in the extract which was useful not just in conveying the conflict of the extract
but effective also in the delivery of the writer's purpose.