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href="https://medium.com/@wendy_carrillo/at-least-167-injured-by-police-at-standing-rock-nodapl-442050e53ddd#.mb0cvpaus">https://medium.com/@wendy_carrillo/at-least-167-injured-by-police-at-standing-rock-nodapl-442050e53ddd#.mb0cvpaus</a></font>
<h1 id="reader-title">At least 167 injured by police at Standing
Rock. #NoDAPL</h1>
<div id="reader-credits" class="credits">WendyCarrillo -
11/20/2016<br>
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<p name="f4d7" id="f4d7" class="graf graf--p
graf-after--figure">Tonight, I held a young man’s
hands after pouring milk of magnesia into his eyes
as he cried and wailed in pain after being a victim
of a violent tear gas attack. I was making my way to
the front lines carrying a backpack with goggles,
water, ear plugs, hand warmers, a blanket and many
other items that have become necessary in fighting
against a militarized force that only protects the
interests of an oil pipeline. I saw a medic in a
minivan yelling for people to get out of the way as
she transported this young man in the crowded back
seat. I could see he was in incredible pain, “I have
milk of magnesia!” I yelled at her. “GET IN THE
VAN!” she yelled back at me. So I jumped into the
front seat to help him. “Don’t worry, I got you!” I
told him, the van making its way through the bumpy
road as I leaned from the front seat to the back.
“You’re gonna be fine!” yelled Holly, a first
responder in her everyday life. “What’s your name?
Blink your eyes” I told the young man. “I don’t want
to say, I don’t want to go to the hospital, I’m from
Australia, I’ll get deported,” he said back to me in
tears and in pain. “Don’t worry, no one here is
gonna deport you.” I assured him as we made our way
down the hundreds of flags that make up the entrance
of the camp. A whirlwind of thoughts swirled through
my mind on our current immigration system, the
incoming president, the thousands detained in
detention centers, the fight for justice and what
that fight looks like across this county. Just so
many thoughts as I reassured this young man as he
cried out in pain. Soon, we were at the medic tent
and he was taken in. Holly and I grabbed masks to
pass out and we headed back in.</p>
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<p name="3e47" id="3e47" class="graf graf--p
graf-after--figure">Back on Highway 1806, just
north of the Oceti Sakowin camp, I jumped out of
the car, more prepared, more ready to help those
in need. I saw grandmothers crying from pain,
grown men in tears throwing up from the toxic
fumes, young women shivering from the cold
temperatures after being blasted with a water
cannon. I stood there almost frozen with my
backpack as people rushed in front of me in chaos.
It was a state of war. A war being fought in our
own land over the protection of water. A war in
which a militarized state is treating its own
citizens like they’re engaging with the enemy.</p>
<p name="ac0e" id="ac0e" class="graf graf--p
graf-after--p">At some point after helping
multiple people suffering from hypothermia,
nausea, and gas, I got caught up in a blast of
three tear gas bombs. The seconds were slow and at
that moment I thought, “oh shit.” I looked up and
realized how close I was to the barb wire and the
physical front line. I closed my eyes immediately
and tried to control my breath. “It’s going to be
ok, Wendy, you’re gonna be fine” I told myself. I
felt the gas come into my lungs, fast, hot and
toxic. I opened my eyes for a moment and felt the
sting hit. I gagged. I heard all those around me
gag, yell in pain and cry out. I kept my eyes
shut, I held my breath. At that moment, I
remembered the tunnel games, hold your breath
Wendy, you can do this. I remember pretending to
be the Little Mermaid and if she could swim to the
surface, so could I. In this moment, this random
things I did as a child, seem to have a purpose.
Small breath, count to ten, stay calm. Blindly I
kept walking, hearing the shuffling of people
around. “STAY CALM! DON’T PUSH!” I heard someone
yell out. When I felt we had walked a safe
distance, I opened my eyes again. I was fine, I
caught my breath, feeling the cold crisp air fill
my lungs. I exhaled. I coughed for a good minute.
Around me, people were crying, their eyes yellow
from the gas. I began to pour more milk of
magnesia, someone offered me water, a young women
that I helped told her sister, “Don’t tell mom
this happened, she’ll be so worried.” I thought of
my own family and my own mother who worries so
much.</p>
<figure name="e2e2" id="e2e2" class="graf
graf--figure graf--iframe graf-after--p"></figure>
<p name="b4f2" id="b4f2" class="graf graf--p
graf-after--figure">Some twenty minutes later, a
flash grenade went off and I felt a slew of tiny
pellets hit the left side of my face. I’m a little
swollen and red, but I’m not deeply hurt. No
longer at the very front of the lines, I kept
helping as much as I could. Some people had
blankets, someone brought more water and someone
else passed some bread. I reached in to my pocket
and realized in the mayhem, I lost my phone. I
hope it’s found somewhere.</p>
<p name="3fb1" id="3fb1" class="graf graf--p
graf-after--p">A medic shared that at least 167
people were injured tonight. Those are the ones
that are counted.</p>
<p name="6b54" id="6b54" class="graf graf--p
graf-after--p"><span class="markup--quote
markup--p-quote is-other"
name="anon_96212f73e3d4" data-creator-ids="anon">Never
in my life have I experienced such raw and
vicious human rights abuses. A police held a
water cannon directly behind a friends head, it
could have given him a concussion. Flash
grenades where shot directly at people. Rubber
bullets were shot at short distances, one I’m
told, hit a pregnant woman. This isn’t a war in
a developing nation, this isn’t a fight against
a terrorist group, this is a blatant display of
power in which the American government is
allowing the police treat American citizens as
criminals in the name of a pipeline and profit.</span></p>
<p name="d5fd" id="d5fd" class="graf graf--p
graf-after--p">They are scared. They are scared of
the power of prayer, the power of people. That is
why they treated us the way they did.</p>
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<p name="eef2" id="eef2" class="graf graf--p
graf-after--figure">The news will twist it and say
that protestors started fires. Not true. The fires
were started by tear gas canisters thrown by
police that hit dry brush. Plain and simple.</p>
<p name="844e" id="844e" class="graf graf--p
graf-after--p graf--last">I don’t know what to say
anymore other than tonight is a night will live in
my memory forever.</p>
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