Here we go

Nine emergencies, 2 green calls, 4 conveyed, 3 assisted, 1 refused, 1 no trace, 1 referred to a G.P. and 2 requiring an ambulance.

Sunny days in London at this time of year result in a combination of things: more people on the streets; more people getting more drunk; fewer ambulance staff because many are on leave and higher 999 call numbers because those who can't get out to enjoy the sunshine want some kind of attention...AND the number of buses on the roads seem to increase in direct proportion to the reduction of the number of ambulances available, so heavier traffic (mainly bendy buses - I don't like bendy buses) and slower response times.

Four miles South of the river for a female with sinusitis. The day was shaping up and it was only 7am. I gave advice, a friendly smile and a wave goodbye. Then on to a call, a mere 3.5 miles away (once I'm down there, I'm stuck) for a child with a sore penis. I arrived to find mum and child at home waiting for me. I carried out a cursory examination and decided, after a few questions, that he had either pushed something up there (boys do that during their penis exploration period) or he had a natural blockage of the Urethra. I took them both to hospital.

I got myself back up over the bridge and received a Red1 for a 'male collapsed, life status questionable'. This usually means one of two things:

1. The person is suspended.
2. The person is NOT suspended.

It's like science, isn't it? I drove to the call as if it was the former and discovered it was the latter. That's okay because I could now relax my bag-carrying arm and focus on the problem. The man had gone to work drunk and had collapsed suddenly. He had a history of hypertension, so I couldn't just dismiss this one. His blood pressure was a little high but the tests we use for stroke were negative. The ambulance crew arrived and I explained the problem - they agreed that alcohol seemed to be the prominent reason for his sudden collapse. His bosses were around and they seemed sympathetic but I also sensed embarrassment and possibly anger.

Five minutes on station for a cup of coffee and then I got a call to attend 'people being crushed' at the opening of a new Primark store in Oxford street. An Officer and motorcycle paramedic were already on scene but I was cancelled just before I got there. Apparently, only one person was slightly injured. I don't know what the fuss was all about frankly.

I didn't get back to the station to finish my cuppa though. I was asked to go on a 4.5 mile trip down South for a patient with cuts that were days old. I asked EOC if this was a necessary trip and they cancelled me - only to give me a 3.5 mile waste of time. They had no choice, neither did I but as soon as I saw the name of the patient, I knew who it was. I have written about this frequent flyer before and he calls us so often he has even had home visits from high ranking LAS Officers in a bid to persuade him to stop.

I got to his house in about 25 minutes (no blue lights) and he was sitting on the bottom step, as usual, waiting for me. I sat him in the car and chatted to him about calling us out for his minor problems - he had a mild eye infection this time. He agreed with everything I said but none of it was being absorbed. Just as I was about to take him to hospital (well, I couldn't leave him alone at home), his Community Matron appeared and asked if she could help. She explained that he had been having problems with his eye for days and that his doctor had already seen it and prescribed drops for it. She offered to guide me to the G.P surgery where she would take him to see his doctor. Apparently his G.P will see him anytime, at the drop of a hat. I found this incredible; I have to wait days to see my G.P!

As soon as I got back to my usual patch I received a call to attend a female with rib pain. She was at work and had bent down to pick something up when she felt something pop in her side and couldn't move after that without severe pain in her ribcage. She had fallen a few days ago, sustaining facial and rib injuries but her ribs had been cleared, without x-ray, by her doctor. Maybe now it was time to x-ray them. It took 5mg of morphine to move her to the car and another 3mg to keep her in it. No ambulances for me to call on, so this was a day for conveying as many as could safely be conveyed, simple as that.

I then rushed to a tube station for a female with abdo pain who had been waiting for an hour and a half. I was on a break and had just finished when this one came in. By the time she got an ambulance response she could have walked to the hospital and back twice. Three times if she was really fit and up for a mini-marathon. I can't believe people with minor problems (she was not in much pain) wait that long to be taxied to hospital. When I delivered her to the nurses, they gave her two paracetamol and a glass of water...oh, and a seat out front.

An emergency call to Sw1, where an elderly woman had collapsed and was now having DIB after walking up 7 flights of stairs in a theatre. After I had climbed them to get to her I was pretty breathless myself and I consider myself to be fit. There is no lift in this building and she had no choice but I could see that she was not recovering properly, her breathing had settled but she just didn't look too good. With the help of a member of staff, I slowly walked her back down the stairs and into the car, her friend in tow. She was fine during the trip to hospital but suddenly got worse when she was in the cubicle waiting to be seen. Her breathing deteriorated and she complained of pains in her legs (she was hyperventilating so the pains could have been pins and needles). I assisted the doctor in calming her down and he got on with her ECG and other tests. I got on with my very long day.

No sooner had I completed my paperwork than I got called to a train station to deal with a female having an epileptic fit. She had recovered and was a little post ictal when I arrived, so I did my obs. and asked her several times if she wanted to go to hospital (they rarely do). She refused and I let her and her family get on with their journey home, complete with a copy of my PRF and a little advice.

Then Mr. Colostomy struck. Control asked me to investigate an abandoned call that came from a phone box outside a pub I recognised. I knew the pub because this gentleman uses this location regularly. The call was an hour old now, so he was unlikely to be there but I went to check it out, I wouldn't dare presume in case I got it wrong. I was right though, he wasn't there and people had witnessed him around the phone box at the time of the call. I did an area search, mainly because I wanted to have a little chat with him but he was long gone - probably had his feet up in the waiting room of his favourite hospital. Today wasn't a good day for people like him, it really wasn't.

As I made my way back, looking for Mr. C. a van driver flagged me down and told me that someone had been knocked off his bike by a bus just around the corner. I called it in and got the incident sent to me as it was being phoned in via 999. I was on top of it in 2 minutes.

The bus had allegedly struck a man on his bicycle, knocking him off and dragging him a little way before stopping. The man was sitting up, chatting to witnesses who were now helping him. He had a nasty little cut on his forehead, which had bled profusely enough to worry people around him but otherwise he was completely unscathed; not shaken, not stirred. Lucky man.

The ambulance was on scene shortly after I covered his head wound and when the police got there, I left on yet another call. This one took me back up to the West End where a young man was 'fitting and coughing up blood'. There was already a car on scene when I got there, a young technician I know quite well, but Control had sent me too because of the nature of the call (paramedics are sent to every epileptic call now). I wasn't required though, he was recovering and despite my colleague's best advice, he refused to go to hospital. He should have gone because this was apparently his first fit.

Ten minutes later and another fit, this time in a crowded shop. The young girl was lying on the floor, dazed and confused. She started crying and didn't stop when she realised what was happening. Again, this was her first fit, if that's what it was. It sounded like a drop attack to me, she wasn't epileptic but was being investigated for a number of faints she had recently suffered. The poor thing wept inconsolably all the way into the ambulance and probably all the way to hospital. The crew were very gentle with her and I'm sure she knew she was in good hands.

My last call of the shift (13 calls today) was to a male who had collapsed and was unconscious in the street. I raced to the scene and saw nothing untoward. Well, there was a drunk sitting against a post. Could it be him? Yes, of course it was! The police turned up just as I was making my cautious approach to ask him if he had made the 999 call, so I let them do it instead.

The man denied making the call but his little mate, who swayed just as badly as he did, said that another alcoholic (from the same gang I guessed) had done it as a taunt while our main man was asleep. One of the officers gently pushed drunk #1 away from drunk #2, as they were getting a little close to one another and drunk #1 tried to pick a fight...with the cop! I couldn't believe it. Nobody, least of all the police officers, wanted the paperwork - we were all off at 7pm.

So drunk #1 relents and things calm down. Drunk #2 decides he doesn't like the way the police officers are talking to his mate (drunk #1) and now he wants a fight! I'm standing there thinking for Pete's sake lets all go home (but not to the same place obviously). My eyes are blurring now and for a completely different reason to drunks 1 and 2. I am dog tired.

Then peace breaks out, everyone smiles and the thing that was going to blow up never does. I get in the car, wave my police friends goodbye and set off back to base and home.

I have described the same day for all of my colleagues too incidentally.

Be safe.