Happy birthday Scruffs!

Ten calls; one assisted-only; one cancelled by patient; one no trace and the others went by ambulance.

A long trip to an area I don’t normally work in for a 41 year-old male ‘fallen on floor’. The crew was already on scene when I arrived, such was the distance, and I followed them up to the rather posh flat in case they needed my help.

The patient’s wife met us at the door and directed us to her husband who was lying, drunk, on the outside balcony. He had taken in so much alcohol that he couldn’t get himself up and there was no explanation as to why he was outside in the first place – it was night and the weather wasn’t that great. His wife called an ambulance because she couldn’t cope with him. The only word I could find in my head as I left was pathetic.


In the West End, a 60 year-old man was collapsed in the street complaining of chest pain. Police were with him and he had been drinking all day, so was very drunk and unable to describe much about his current problem, although he did tell me had angina. His GTN spray was nowhere to be seen.

His mouth was smeared with dried blood; it was very dark blood and, although I should have worked it out straight away, there was no history to suggest it but it was similar to the blood you see around the mouth of someone who’s vomited the stuff.

Regardless, I was treating him for his chest pain and there was a commotion going on just down the street, where I’d been asked to attend to a young man whose testicles had been hit during a fight. I had to decline and get on with my assigned patient. The ambulance arrived and we began to examine the chest pain man more thoroughly. His BP seemed to be dropping and his ECG was all over the place, although this could be historical.

Outside meanwhile, the police and another ambulance were arriving at the scene of the fight, which had kicked off again. Now the ambulance was effectively blocked in by police vehicles and the decision to ‘blue’ our patient in had been taken, so cars and vans had to be moved in the narrow street to make room.

It took another ten minutes to clear the road enough so that the ambulance could reverse out and I followed it to the hospital.

In Resus, the doctors were trying to figure out why the man’s BP was dropping – it was now 78/50. He was conscious, even though he continually fell into deep sleeps during our treatment. He was conscious enough in Resus to hurl racial abuse at the Asian doctor who tried to help him. He kicked the medic away from him and security was called to pin him to the bed. He did all this despite looking very ill and with blood pressure that continued to drop through his boots.

I learned later that he got out of bed, ripped out his IV’s and wandered about the A&E dept dripping blood from his veins. The doctor had suggested earlier that he may have had a GI bleed, which would explain the dark blood around his lips but that didn’t stop them turfing him out when he became a nuisance.


A 35 year-old woman who was punched in the eye by her partner was left weeping in the hallway of her flat and I arrived with a crew to help her. He had left the scene, which was just as well because the police had arrived before us and they take this kind of violence seriously.


The management of a Casino in the West End had called an ambulance for a 35 year-old male ‘fainted, ? heart attack’, which I found rather bizarre. I had to fight my way through the terrible 2am traffic to get there, only to be told that the patient had recovered and didn’t want an ambulance. The manager had insisted on keeping us running because he feared possible litigation if we didn’t check him out. The fact is, however, that once a patient has clearly stated that he doesn’t want an ambulance, it’s his prerogative not to be man-handled by paramedics against his will. The Casino would not have been liable for anything.


If I need to go to the loo, I have to find a period of time to return to my station but that’s not always possible, especially on a weekend night, so I called Control and made my request (it’s a bit like putting your hand up in class to ask ‘Sir’ if you can go) but I didn’t make it because I was turned around for a 40 year-old ‘lying on the ground’. In the area where I was heading, around Victoria station, that usually meant drunk.

I wasn’t too happy to find that he didn’t exist or had wandered off. I still needed the loo, so I made a second attempt at returning. Luckily, this time I got there and I was much more comfortable for the next call.


I’m pretty sure I saw an unusual case of adult mumps on this call. A 42 year-old male with 'flu-like- symptoms' had called us because his illness had become worse, despite seeing his GP and receiving medicine to help him recover. When I looked at him I recognised the tell-tale swollen cheeks that signal inflammation of the parotid glands. He also had other symptoms that could be associated with the virus, so I advised the crew when they arrived that it was very infectious and there was a risk to them if they had never contracted it or been inoculated against it (the MMR jab).

The poor guy was miserable with it and all he could say when I first walked through the door was ‘please help me’.


An unrousable 25 year-old was laying in the street and a couple of passing MOPs took pity on him and called an ambulance. They apologised when I arrived but what else could they do? The man on the ground was drunk, of course, and he demonstrated his respect by vomiting around my feet, threatening to take aim at me several times. I, like my colleagues, have developed instinctive avoidance techniques for your vomit.

He was packed off into an ambulance for the rest of the NHS to deal with him. He walked with support and entered the vehicle like he’d done it hundreds of times before. He probably has.


One of the saddest things I’ve witnessed (and I’ve seen it a few times) is the sight of a young girl walking along a packed street on her own - crying. I want to go and ask her if she’s alright but of course she isn’t and, since she hasn’t asked for my help, I can only assume that her pain is private and the last thing she needs is a stranger to emphasize it. Still sad though.


Two 17 year-old guys were jumped on by a gang of youths and beaten up, both of them had rib injuries, one to the right and one to the left. They were huddled inside a shop doorway being protected by the police when I arrived. No weapons had been used, only fists and feet but they were pretty badly shaken up by the experience.


One of the most common statements the friends of a drunken woman will say is ‘she’s never been like this and she’s only had a couple of drinks’. This, along with ‘I know her drink was spiked’ is becoming the most annoying sentence to have screamed in your ear as you attempt to explain that their mate/sister/loved one is simply too drunk to stay awake. My next patient, a 23 year-old female, lolled on the ground, refusing to be nice, as her mate yelled those same excuses at me. I stopped trying to persuade her otherwise, knowing that in the morning, she’d see the light. Hopefully so would her inebriated friend.


My last call of the night was to an 18 year-old man wearing a huge ‘I am 18 today’ badge and sporting what I can only describe as a fairy outfit – angel wings and all. He had allegedly been assaulted by someone who threw a can at him, hitting him on the nose. He dropped to the ground and lost consciousness, recovering a short time later to the sound of his crying friends.

I have to say that it’s very cruel and stupid to chuck a can at someone for no reason but I guess if you are going to walk down a heavily (drunken) populated street in the middle of the West End dressed like a cherub and advertising your 18th, then there are going to be consequences, such is the nature of our lovely society today. Poor kid.


For all you Scruffy fans out there (I still get email about him), I’ve posted his latest pic and you’ll be glad to hear that it was his first birthday today. Needless to say he won’t be allowed to wander about in London with a big badge on. The other cats would kill him.

Be safe.