Tea break

I was just about to have a cup of coffee when I got a call for a 'suspended'. The press would have loved this because the ambulance crew on duty with me at my little station were on their EU enforced break and therefore couldn't be called for this job! The paramedic from the crew was eager to do get involved and help out but he was powerless and I had to go alone to this one.

As fate would have it, I was updated on the way to the car. It wasn't a suspended after all, it was a fit and could I please still run on it as there was no ambulance crew available. Yes there was! They were trapped inside the station being forced by the European regulators to have their tea and biscuits. Talk about fiddling while Rome burns. None of us are happy about this and it won't be long before the public loses faith in us, whatever of that they have left.

I started running on this call, blue lights and sirens, as you do, when suddenly, from out of nowhere I glanced a car as it sped past and right across me. Once again I had almost been hit by some lunatic on the road. I'm concerned about the third time lucky law that operates in these incidents as I am on duty again tonight. This time I was driving across a traffic light junction, with the lights just turning in my favour. I was doing no more than 20 mph (after last night I didn't want to take any chances) and I looked to my left. As I scanned across to my right I saw a blur of movement. I tracked it and saw that a car had just cut across me at high speed. He must have been racing the red light on his side. Or he was a drunk moron. Or both. Probably both.

It was very wet and windy last night and visibility was poor enough without the extra concentration required to avoid nutters on the road. I know that this time I would have been seriously injured or killed if I had been one second earlier across that junction. I better update my will.

I got to the scene of the alleged fit and saw that a few police officers were gathered around a young man on the ground. He was thrashing and relaxing alternately but was talking to the officers too. I got to him and asked if he was epileptic. He said 'no'. The officers told me that he had been mugged a few weeks ago and had sustained a head injury which he did nothing about (he didn't go to get it checked at hospital). Indeed, his over-riding worry seemed to be that he was going to be forced to go to hospital, which I can't do obviously.

I carried out my checks and found nothing wrong with his vital signs. His demeanour told me he was acting this out. He certainly wasn't having a fit and he wasn't having a neurological event as far as I could gather from his actions. He threw a lot of clues and kept repeating that he had been mugged and that his head was burning. I could see no fire but I could smell something amiss.

I spoke to the police officers and to his friend who was with him but I got no additional information about him that would help me discover his problem. I was sure it was a lot to do with alcohol (he had consumed a lot) and my instincts told me he had emotional problems. The two simply don't mix. He refused and refused and so I was left with little option but to cancel the ambulance (no point in wasting the crew's time on this) and get him to sign my magic 'If you die it's not my fault' form.

When he realised things were serious and that the police were concerned about him (I wasn't too worried to be honest), he suddenly recovered, stood up and had a lengthy conversation with them about not going to hospital. The police had no option either. They even hailed a cab for him and had it wait whilst they remonstrated with him. He walked off with his mate and the cabbie lost a fare and ten minutes of his livelihood.

All the time this was going on it was pouring with rain and the wind was battering us silly. A drunk kept approaching us and moaning about having no money to get home. He kept pestering us until one of the officers had to threaten him with arrest. It made no impression but he eventually ran out of steam. Another drunk asked me if I could call him a taxi. I was going to get annoyed with him but I decided that would be arrogant and petty of me so I asked his name and where he needed to go. I discovered he wasn't from London and was staying at a nearby hotel. He had taken a private cab but had been dumped and ripped off because the taxi driver didn't know where the hotel was. I felt sorry for him so I hailed a cab and shoved him in the back with reassurances to the (black cab) driver that his passenger had the cash to pay and was in no way violent. I hoped I was right.

If I don't post anything tomorrow I have nothing to tell you. Either that or I am in A&E. Or dead.

Be safe.