Killing time

A very quiet night shift. I attended four calls in twelve hours. Two of them were stumbled upon, so officially I was only sent to two.

We have TV and we have DVD's and we have a big sofa, so we needn't get bored, but I do. I need to be active and I find these long shifts tedious if it's quiet out there. I'm not moaning about it per se, I'm sure I'll be writing about how manic it is and how I never seem to get a cup of coffee soon (probably the next posting) but a night shift can seem to last two nights when you are sitting around or patrolling the area looking for trouble.

My official calls were to a cut lip - the result of a collision between a cyclist and a pedestrian and an alcoholic who claimed to have downed nearly 40 paracetamol with his liquid diet for the day. I cancelled the ambulance on both calls and felt guilty in case the crews really wanted something to do and I had robbed them of the opportunity. They may have been much busier than me but it seemed like a slow night all round.

I stumbled upon a head injury in the West End when I was making my way back after one of those calls. Another crew were in attendance but there were two casualties, the result of a recent fight. I offered my assistance and it was accepted. I called it in and attended to the man with the head injury. He had been viciously slashed across the head and face with some kind of sharp object and had three fairly nasty looking wounds to be treated. Both casualties were taken to hospital in the same ambulance and my involvement ended there.

My second accidental job was to a cold, hungry vagrant who had wandered into a phone box and called an ambulance for chest pain. I was patrolling around and got an eyeful of bright light from a police officer's torch as he attempted to catch my attention. I nearly crashed the car.
The man was walking and talking and exhibited no sign of chest pain at all. He didn't refer to it unless it was mentioned.

"Do you have chest pain?"

"Yes"

Then later...

"Do you still have chest pain?"

"Eh? What chest pain?"

Otherwise, he was just lonely and hadn't eaten for three days. Luckily (for him) I had just bought a packet of cake slices (look away now if you are on a diet) and so I offered him one. He wolfed it down. I offered him another. Ditto. I stopped at that point because I really wanted to eat at least one of those cakes myself.

Oh yes, I did all the obs and found nothing untoward and yes, I know that people have heart attacks where there is no real evidence of chest pain or failing vital signs but I used common sense again. It's a tool I will use whenever I feel it is appropriate. He was hungry and he was cold and he was homeless. That's it.

I took him to hospital and the nurse rolled her eyes to heaven when she saw me come in with him. He was put to bed and he slept, which is all he wanted.

Upside - I got to go home on time.

Be safe.