Anatomy of a Butt Kicking pt 2

Well, that was a long post.  I’m going to try to keep the individual calls short here, and focus in on the more fun or interesting points.  I’ll list them all though, just to lay out a timeline.

Okay, so last time we left our dashing hero leaving the hospital and heading out for a well-deserved meal (notice no mention of lunch in that last post), after saving the damsel in distress from vehicular doom.  The crew was feeling pretty full of ourselves, and ready to take on most anything.  Wayne had the radio playing and we were jammin’ in the cab of the unit.  Wayne was thinking a sit-down dinner was in order in light of our day’s adventures.  “At what point in the last 4 hours did you think we were going to get to sit down somewhere and eat?” I ask him and laugh.  All I get is a smirk from him.  We agree on Thomas’, it’s a small Italian deli type place in a strip mall with good Calzones and tables.  I figure we can get things to go, and just sit and eat.  Of course, as we are pulling around to the parking lot….

1752 – 1805:  We get hit for an auto accident in our second due to our south.  The intersection of 234 and 1 is a good site for them.  This one is just up the road from there, but means that while the response down is not too long, the ride back in traffic will take a while.  As we pull out of the parking lot, I notice a lady laying in the grass next to a Checkers.  Nice day for it, the weather was perfect, mid 70’s (not Celsius ya ozzie) and sunny, breezy too.  At any rate, better than driving today I think.  “Put on your vests!” I yell back to Cat and Jon and we are off.

The engine is already there, along with PD when we arrive.  The second due engine is staffed with a bunch of guys from our department who have gone down to fill in while that station does training or some such.  It’s odd to see them running calls in the wrong unit, but good for a chuckle.  There is not much to the wreck, and everyone is parked in a gas station now.  One guy is an asthmatic, and the dust from the air bag messed him up some, but he hit his inhaler and was feeling better. Cat said his lungs were clear and he didn’t want to go to the hospital.  I smile at Jon, and hand him the refusal form. “I believe you know how to use this…” and off he goes to collect the signature.  I chat with the PD Sergeant on scene, and comment on the rash of accidents going on all over.  Must be the nice weather…start of stupid season.  We get the paperwork signed and start the slow drive back to Thomas’.  I start sending a text message to MedicJon when he calls me.  No kidding.  We are enjoying a chuckle, and he is telling me I’m a puss for not running calls as we pull into the lot at the restaurant.  I notice the lady who was in the grass before walking up the sidewalk with what could only be described as a very ‘unsteady gait’.  She’s drifting towards traffic.  “Wayne, that’s a patient” I say to Wayne, and “Uh, I gotta go…no kidding” to Jon.

1821-1849:  I hop out of the unit and jog up to the lady.  “You okay?” I ask.  She turns and smiles.  She looks dirty in a “I’ve been outside all week” kinda way, and has white something or another on her lips.  She says, “I’m TIIIIIIRed.  I been up THREE days.”  “Wow, space cadet.  Helloooo Major Tom” I think (Some people call her Maurice maybe?).  Well, it’s a call anyway.  I radio back to communications that I’m on the scene of a sickness, and pick one of the stores as an address (Actually, I used Thomas’ address).  
I have to help hold her up as we walk back to the unit.  Cat and Jon are coming over, surprised that there is a patient and not a pizza in their immediate future.  She climbs in the unit and proceeds to tell us that George Orwell told her that there is no such thing as liberty, and (more to the point) that she stopped taking her psych meds.  (Winner!)  A look through her bags finds Haldol and Cogentin bottles, both full.  My mind trys to think of how big a party that represents, and wonders how psychotic you are to get a big bottle of anti-psychotics.  Her vitals are stable, and she likes the cot.  She rambling about reality or something, and laughing at her own humor.  I smile as I dial the hospital…they are gonna love me.  “Picked one up off the street…” I start my report.  That went over well.  I explain that I have one for “room 10”, the psych room.  When I get there, the Charge Nurse asks how gone she is and I explain that while I’m not a shrink-ologist I believe the DSM-IV would classify her as “Nucking Futs.”  The nurses get a chuckle and go meet me in 10.  We get her dropped off, and she tells us the hospital beds are even better than the cot.  The charge nurse tells me “Enough of the Good Samaritan stuff…stick to the ones that call..okay?” and she laughs.  Jon tells me that he has never had a psych patient, but the grin on his face tells me he enjoyed his first time.  The turnover and report go fast, and we are back for dinner….again.  This time, we don’t even clear the parking lot when the MDT twinkles the “You’ve got calls” tune.

1850-2003:  I hear Jon and Cat moaning at the sound of the alert, even as I am giving our battle cry de jour, “Put on your vests!”.  MVA, same intersection as before.  New wreck, this time word is two kids are out on the grass, unknown if ejected or removed.  Wayne has a special gear for that, and I hear the unit shifting into it as we clear the parking lot and dive into traffic.  The engine crew was there again, and we got a basic too.  A buddy of mine who is the Rescue Captain of that department came along…calls with kids will do that.  A quick size up shows only the kids as possible patients, and it is very clear that they were NOT ejected.  Grandma took them out of the car and set them on the grass.  The basic crew, some of the engine the crew, and Cat and Jon were checking out the kids.  I chatted with the Captain for a bit, and bemoaned a lack of dinner.  I was thinking refusal or BLS transport, but then they said another lady had an ankle injury…three patients, means two units to transport…we got business.  The basic asked for the ankle, so we got the kids (age 5 and 7)  They looked and behaved fine, but had said that their back and necks hurt, so had people holding c-spine.  We have to Pedi-board them.  They are NOT happy about it, and are screaming.  They start swearing they are okay, and we check with Grandma.  She wants them checked, so we slide up behind them, lay them back and board and collar them as they try to fight us off.  I’m not fired up about traumatizing a couple of kids, but we gotta do this right.  Long, tearful, wailing story short…we haul them to the ER.  The older one wants out bad and pulls at his straps and squirms as we re-secure him a few times, the younger one gives us a scare by using sleep to cope.  He opens up when we call him and all is well.  We take them to minor care, and give parallel reports to the nurse.  Okay, Dinner…really…

We get back to Thomas’, even get to order.  Good thing too, because we are all starting to loose our sense of a good time here.  Blood sugars were getting low.  They toss in the drinks for free, and having seen us drive through the lot and respond off a few times, they promise to take good care of us. Mmm, Calzone.  

2020-2023:  As we are waiting for the food to come up…the call comes.  Auto Accident, of course, this one just up the road.  Groaning, we pile back on the unit and put on our vests of course.  We make it just up the road when the engine gets on the air and declares the accident PDO (Property Damage Only) and we are put in service.  “Thank God for small miracles” I think, and Wayne pulls a u-turn and we go back.  

This time dinner is waiting, and smells GREAT.   We even got to eat it back at the station.  Calzone and Onion Rings are NOT on the diet, but sure tasted good.  Jon is saying that he is getting some calls he has not had yet, and is pretty excited about the way the day has turned out.  I plow through dinner and head over to the radio room to log the days events, when I see the guy on the ramp.  “Dear God, please let him need directions.” I think.

2106-2114:  I open the door, and the guy asks if we can check him out, and look at his blood pressure.  Sure thing, come on in I say, and I have Cat walk him back to the unit.  I go to the CAD terminal and message communications that we have a walk-in, we are on the scene and don’t need any help.  They acknowledge, and I hear the dispatch hit the air.  I go back to the unit, and climb in to hearing Cat talk to the guy.  It seems he was in an accident (of course) a few days ago, and is feeling stiff in the neck.  He was checked out at the time, and has a bruise to his right ribs, but was okay.  He was concerned about his pressure, and while a little elevated, it was not bad.  Looked like someone in pain.  He said he’d take something over the counter for pain and see his doc on Monday.  Another refusal and we are good to go.  It has gotten dark and we walk back to the trailer to finally relax.  For a solid seven minutes.

2122 – 2140:   We get sent with a basic unit (a good sign) to an injury in our first due.  Injuries from a fall.  Further information is a baby of like 10 months fell from bed.  No, another message says Dad dropped it.  (Paging Mrs Spears…)  Baby is crying the dispatch conveys.  Sounds odd, but the description makes it sound pretty minor.  The ambulance gets in ahead of us and beats us to the scene.  (Wayne later explains to Jon that that was not a coincidence, they ALWAYS seem to be able to “smoke us in” on BLS calls.  Must be something about the roads….).  En route, we all make the critical patient care decision to go to WAWA for coffee after the call.  We enter to find mom holding a baby, still sniffling some, but basically calm, curious and wary of strangers.  There is no laceration, on consciousness issues, and everyone but mom seems calm.  Dad is downstairs in the basement apartment, and I have someone take me down to see where it happened.  The BLS crew is checking the baby, with Cat peering over their shoulder when I get back.  There was nothing remarkable about where it happened, though Dad seems surprisingly disinterested.  (Something I passed on to PD when they got there.)  The basic crew said they were good to go with the call and we head out.  I hear them marking clear with a refusal a short time later.  Coffee time!  (I recommend the Kenya AA, good stuff when it’s fresh…kind of a warm wine taste to it.)  

A bit of time passes and things are a bit more calm.  I know there is more to come, so I lay down with my boots on for a couple minutes.  I have 8 years of station 12 living, and I know how these days go.  It’s far to early to stop, and you rest when you can.  Wayne, Cat and I are starting to share inside grins and comments.  Jon is hanging in so far, but slowing just a touch.  We know we are not likely to sleep much, and we know it will hurt, but then, we are also sharing a bit of “good old station 12 butt-kicking” veteran camaraderie too.  

2317-0035:  We aren’t disappointed.  Just after 11pm, we get hit deep into our 3rd or 4th due for and unconscious diabetic, 23 or so year old female.  It’s going to be a bit of a haul there, so I’m hoping she’s not out TOO bad.  The first due crews are there fast, but I don’t hear anything over the air.  We eventually arrive to find 5-6 20-somethings standing outside a townhouse.  They are all hammered.  They were at the chili-cookoff in DC that day and I smell the alcohol at 10 paces.  I’m starting to think the diabetes has little to do with it.  Upstairs we find the girl laying in bed, with LOTS of people around her.  A dexi comes back okay, so we know her diabetes is not the issue.  She apparently talks some, so I weave in and ask her what’s wrong.  She eventually moans that she is tired.  No shit.  She reeks of stale beer.  At one point she says that she does not want to go anywhere.  Well, To F’in Bad.  I’m not letting her refuse.  I am thinking that there is no way that one holds up in court.  I have the crews bring up a reeves and get the cot ready.  We flop her onto the reeves with no reaction.  I’m asking about possible drug use, and she swear no.  She did say that she was the Designated Driver, so she only had “3-4”.  Nice, the unconscious one is the DD and the ‘sober’ one.  Good plan kids.  The girl is best described as “pliable”, she basically sleeps the entire time we haul her through the house, down the stairs and out the door.  (the halls were very narrow, and we could only get one person on each end of her.  I had to carry her head directly in front and beneath me.  I described it as the “tea bag carry” to the ER Tech…that one got a chuckle. For a visual, but not at work!  Okay, bonus points for the dude’s tee shirt…that’s funny!  She didn’t react the whole time, she was out.)  We get a stable set of vitals, good ECG, and a line. No trauma, good dexi level.  She’s really gorked, and we start talking about why on the way up to the hospital.  I let her boyfriend, who I put at a BAL of .2 up front with Wayne.  (I love the look the truly wasted get when they are trying to be serious). Everyone there, including boyfriend, says that there was no chance she got slipped something in a drink too.  She takes a med for low blood pressure (pressure is fine) and has flexoril for back pain.  She said that she didn’t take the flexoril because she was drinking.  Jon is thinking something heat related because of some sunburn she has, but we kinda doubt it.  We are really leaning toward the beer + Flexoril solution.  When we get to the hospital, the boyfriend tells me that HE gave the girl her B/P med that night…making me even more confident in the drug mixup.  The techs at the ER get her prepped pretty fast, and she does not react at all to being disrobed.  The Nurse comes in and I am able to give report.  As we get ready to head out, Wayne thanks us for giving him the boyfriend.  It appears that when Wayne hit the first intersection and turned on the sirens, he started to hear “woo, WooooOOOoooo” from the guy in the passenger seat.  My Boy played siren all the way to the hospital.  THAT got a laugh from all of us, and a plan is immediately hatched to use the PA system and a “woo WoooOOOoooo…I’m am ambulance” up the street on some early AM call, but only past a Police car.  

I actually got into bed and started to drift after that one.  Of course..that only makes it hurt more when..

0107-0206:  Damn, woken up, JUST drifted off, and I hear those words we at 12 hate…”Box 12-01, for a sickness…” Wayne, Cat and I all say the address in unison…the Fossil Farm.  This time it is for a lady we have taken to the hospital before.  She’s a former nurse, is deteriorating fast, and has a real issue with the staff there.  I don’t blame her for that, of course, but she is developing a pain med issue and has a habit of calling us directly without letting the staff know.  This time the staff is calling us, and they are pissed at the patient.  We get in and out fast so they don’t argue.  The stories don’t match, of course.  Staff says she refused her meds all day, She says she was in dialysis and they forgot to give them when she returned.  Staff says she is on fluid restrictions, but drank about 32 oz of Orange Juice.  She says she has no restrictions.  As we get in the unit she is telling us she may code.  I’m telling her she better not.  She says that the last time she went to the hospital, she coded, and she remembered it all. (she didn’t like being shocked).  She was in A-fib, rapid ventricular response, and a blood sugar that read “HI” on our unit.  Lungs clear, BP good.  I thought I recalled her having crap for veins, but I it it on the first run.  Well Hot Damn.  “you got good veins after all.” I say…”Like hell,” she says, then looks over, surprised, at the access in her arm.  I reach over to get the end of the IV tube from Jon, and he’s zoned for a minute.  I bust his balls a bit (verbally, not literally) and he snaps out.  He’s just tired, and hitting the wall some.  I see Cat start to dive towards me and look down to see that my finger has moved, and I’m no longer blocking off the catheter correctly.  I have blood flowing off her elbow, down my shin, over my boot and on the floor.  (told you I got that line!)  A pretty solid stream of obscenities  go through my head, and I snare the line and place it quickly.  Cat blots up the blood with a towel, and I spray my pants with a disinfectant.  It seems fatigue is sneaking up on us all, but I’m displeased.  The patient is stable, if unpleasant, and we get her to the ER.  I give all her paperwork and report to the RN, and explain the possible stories.  The unit gets a quick mopping as well as restock, and we get back to the house.  We enjoy a grin at our day again, and know we are showing Jon what running a Medic “is really like”.

0218-0234:  We aren’t back long when we get sent with the engine for an assault.  Some dude has shown up bloody at a 7-11.  We are told to stage and head over to a nearby McDonalds to wait and see.  We are sitting there a while, tired and bored when I look at Wayne.  “Hey, look into the cab of the engine…they look mostly asleep?” I ask.  “yeah.”  Grin… “Okay, when I say…turn on the lights, haul ass forward and circle the McDonalds.  Don’t go to the call, just come back here.”  “yeah, right.” Wayne responds.  I explain that I’m dead serious, and a big ole shit-eatin grin comes over his face.  I grab the PA mic, turn it all the way up…”LEROOOYYYY JENKIIIIIIINS!” I cry into the mic, and Wayne takes off.  He whips around the building, lights on, no sirens, and about half way, I have him kill the lights.  (Turns out there are other cars in the lot over by a bar…ooops)  As we come back to the start, we see that the engine has moved, and started towards the call.  Oh Shit!  “Turn on your lights so they see us!”  The engine stops. Pauses, and starts to turn back.  Wayne and I chuckle like 10 year olds at a fart contest.  I put on a straight face as the engine comes back and the driver pulls up by Wayne’s window.  “What the hell was that?” he asks.  “Sorry, I was bored” I explain.  The look on his face was classic.  He bends down Wayne’s Fisheye mirror and pulls off to turn back into position.  Wayne and I laugh so hard we cry.  I can hardly breath, and I’m pounding the mapbooks.  We pull it together, and I text communications for a status.  Shortly after we are placed in service by PD.  We are still chuckling as we get back to the house.  I crack me up.  Time for bed again.

This time, I even break into REM…..

0445-0528:  We get woken up to run to our second due to the north for difficulty breathing.  The patient is a little old lady who woke up and was scared.  She is friendly and lucid, but we check everything just in case.  Good BP, clear lungs, Dexi is okay, ECG is fine.  In short, pretty damn good for 85 or so.  She told me that she woke up nervous. I asked if she had a date that she was nervous about, and that got me a smile and a denial.  She has been a friend of our department for quite some time, as evidenced by a sticker on the window by her door of an old logo we had.  We mostly chat for a bit, and she decides everything is okay.  We have her sign a refusal, and tell her it’s good to see her, that she can call anytime.  Then we head back for the beds.

I tell Jon that we might be done now.  Too late for the drunks, too early for anyone to wake up dead.  I explain that pretty much our only issue is heart attacks.  Chest pains waking people up to call us.  As we climb into bed, a call goes out for another medic unit nearby…Chest Pains.  I smile and pull up the blankets.

0652-0703:  The sleep of the just was broken by a string of tones.  A fire call.  Well, that’s different, I didn’t think there WERE fires anymore.  (grin Matt)  Turns out I was right.  We respond off into the risen sun and stage.  It’s food on the stove, or smoking dryer or something generally not on fire yet.  We are placed in service and head off to WAWA.  It’s time for some Kenya AA.

The shift ended, we ask Jon how he liked it.  He’s enthused and tired, and may even come back.  I assure him that there is more where that came from.  We double check the unit, and pack up for the day.  I photocopy a log of our calls to write this from.  All in all, probably no lives saved, but a good dozen people helped.  Some bad, some not so much.  But, they called, we came, and even got a couple Thank You’s for the run.  We cursed, laughed, and told stories.  All in all, it felt good at the end.  We were tired but content, and we are all looking forward to next time.