Wind and rain

Wet and windy...and that's just the weather! My first call of the day was to a young man who had been found near a London landmark with a head injury (the man, not the landmark). It was 7.30am and he had allegedly been mugged. Strangely, his wallet and belongings were still with him on scene.

I asked him a few questions and it was clear that he didn't know where he was but he was pretty sure that someone had attacked him.

"Where were you going", I asked

"Home from work", he replied

"You work nights then?"

"No, I work during the day."

"What time do you think it is now?"

"About five o'clock?"

He was clearly concussed and his head injury was significant, although it didn't look life threatening. You never know with these things though. Sometimes a person can sustain the most innocuous of head injuries and it kills them because the bleeding creates internal pressure that the brain can't cope with.

It's still fairly dark at this time of the morning so I found it difficult to assess his injury thoroughly and torchlight didn't help much, especially mine; it keeps switching itself off when it feels like it. Dodgy contact I guess. I really should do something about that or I will get caught out one day.

I carried out as good a secondary survey as I was going to get under the circumstances and the ambulance arrived to take the man away. He appeared to have no other injuries and was able to walk to the vehicle with assistance.

I got my usual bundle of life and death, hero-making calls too of course. A man who was 'coughing up blood' and who, when I arrived, sat pathetically on the floor of his front room whilst his female relatives got on with their day with little or no interest.

"So, what's happened to him today?", I enquired of the closest disinterested woman to me.

"Oh, he's been coughing up a lot of blood" she said as she pointed to him and turned her back on me in order to get on with something more worthwhile.

Fine, I thought. I shall direct my questioning to the cry baby on the floor. He really didn't look ill and he struck me as someone who was trying to get attention from someone, probably Miss notatallinterested.

He had coughed something up but it was a little blob of characterless ooze from somewhere inside his throat and nothing more. His vital signs were good and he was playing listless and weak for his audience, including me. Sorry but he was. I even had to ask him to speak up because part of the package in this particular act is to deliberately slur, slow and quieten your speech. It's annoying and I have better things to do. I have a rest break to get to.

Then there was my 9013, our code for no trace. I spent ten minutes searching Tottenham Court Road for a 'female with abdo pain' and found no-one interested. Not even a tourist who needed directions. Another life saved, I thought. I think this is the mind-set of someone who calls an ambulance under these circumstances:

"Oooh..bit of a twinge in my tummy there. Better dial 999"

Five minutes later.

"I feel better now. Must have been gas. Never mind. Silly me. I wish those sirens weren't so loud, I can hardly hear myself think."

And off he/she/it wanders.

I love this job. No two ways about that. I find people funny, annoying, interesting and altogether human. Keeps me sane.

The administrative problem I told you about (the one that has displaced me from the car) means that I am back on my line at my usual station. I will be working the next few shifts on an ambulance, which I am looking forward to. Next week I'll be back on the car as normal.

Oh, it has been pointed out that the colour scheme may be giving you headaches; white text on a dark background. I personally like it but if enough of you say you would like it changed then I will find something easier on your eyes. Let me know.

Be safe.