Day shift: Eight calls; all by ambulance.
Stats: 1 DIB; 2 Faints; 1 ?TIA; 1 Cough; 1 RTC with multiple injuries; 1 RTC with minor injuries; 1 Suicidal person.
Plenty of cancelled on the way calls for me today and a few ‘not required’, including an 84 year-old man with DIB. The crew was on scene for that.
My first faint was at an underground station, where a 35 year-old man was slowly recovering on the platform as staff helped him. He’d passed out once before, so this wasn’t new to him but he’d never been checked out properly, so the crew took him for an ECG and on to hospital.
One of my MRU colleagues was with me and when we went back to our vehicles a security guard from one of those cash-collecting trucks had a go at us for parking in the bay that he and his crew mate needed in that location. He shouted at us and I noticed that his van was parked quite dangerously at an angle in the road, almost nose to rear with the motorcycle.
‘We are on an emergency call’, said my colleague but it fell on deaf and ignorant ears. Once again, someone who’s relative was not the focus of our arrival was hell bent on making our morning miserable by giving us verbal abuse just for doing our job. Nice.
I travelled a log way out for the next call, to a 74 year-old man who’d collapsed outside a tube station and had been taken inside by the staff. He was sitting on the toilet in their office when I arrived and he wasn’t very responsive at all. Then he began to lose consciousness, so I pulled him to the floor with the help of an underground bod.
He’d lost bladder control and the tell-tale stain on his trousers made me think that this probably wasn’t because he hadn’t made the loo in time. I did all my checks and came up with a low BP and pulse rate. He was very pale.
I asked for a first aider just in case he suspended on me before the crew arrived; I’d need the extra help, and a lady materialised within seconds, gloves on and ready, if a bit pale herself. Luckily she wouldn’t be needed because when the man’s head reached the floor, he suddenly became alert, almost as if he’d been faking it all.
He was lucid enough to answer my questions and I found that he had no medical problems.
When the crew arrived we took him to the ambulance and he began to repeat the same thing over and over again. ‘I need a crap’, he said. He seemed genuinely desperate to go to the toilet and purge his bowels but we insisted that he should either hold on or just go where he was and we’d clean him up afterwards (its all part of the service but don’t try it deliberately because we know the difference).
During the second set of obs he kept asking to empty himself and it became very odd. I didn’t think his behaviour was normal, regardless of his need to go to the loo. I suspected he’d had some kind of neurological event, possibly a stroke, so he was taken to hospital quickly.
I was asked to call the doctor in charge of this patient later on and he asked me questions about what had happened to him and how long it had gone on. He too felt that the man had suffered a stroke.
A two year-old boy who was supposedly choking required my assistance at a doctor’s surgery miles away but his mum walked him out to the door when I arrived. The doc had ordered a blue light response for this and it was given a Red3. The little boy had a week-old cough but the medic felt he might have a partial obstruction, so needed an x-ray. Even the mother thought I was there to trundle them to hospital and no more. Instead a crew did it. This, in my opinion, was a routine transfer and not an emergency. Sometimes abuse of the service comes from professional sources.
A motorcycle was hit by a taxi and the bike rider ended up on the ground with C-spine tenderness and pain in his ribcage and hip, so he was collared and scooped from the ground, as was necessary. He lost his leather jacket and trousers to our shears but no visible injury could be found.
He was given pain relief and taken to hospital on blue lights in case we’d missed something but I honestly don’t think he had anything more wrong with him than bruises (which were invisible). The speed of impact was low and he had flung himself to the ground when the cab hit. I'd be visiting this exact spot again within a week to scoop another RTC victim from the road.
My second faint took place at a bus stop. The 22 year-old man had a low BP and the crew was already taking care of him when I showed up, so I just took note of the numbers and left the scene.
Up in Oxford Street, where the traffic crawls almost permanently, a cyclist clipped a pedestrian as she crossed the road. She had minor facial injuries and was badly shaken by her experience but she’ll definitely survive.
Just as I made my way back to go home, I got a call and turned around to head for a pub, outside which the police had taken a man into the back of their car for his own safety. He had threatened suicide in the pub and people had taken him seriously enough to call 999. I didn’t make contact with him because I felt the police officer already had his trust and if he was fragile, I could upset the balance, so I waited until the cop told me what was what.
‘I’ll try to convince him to go to hospital of his own accord and if he doesn’t want to, I’ll section him for his own safety’, the police officer told me.
Fair enough, so I waited for the crew and when they arrived I advised them of the plan but it looked like he was going to comply and the fuss wouldn’t be needed. I left the crew to it and headed back on overtime.
Be safe.
Tuesday, 27 January 2009
Friday, 23 January 2009
Break in
Night shift: Seven calls; one assisted-only, six by ambulance.
Stats: 1 RTC with head injury; 1 Chest pain; 1 eTOH; 1 Pain in side; 1 RTC with chest pain; 1 Assault with neck injury; 1 Unable to cope.
A varied shift tonight, starting with a call to an hotel given as ‘fainted’ with the caller refusing to check the patient’s breathing (sometimes that’s understandable but I find it irritating that people will call and then do nothing to help). In fact, when I got on scene I was shepherded through the place and back out onto the busy main road at the other exit. It was a RTC; a car had hit a pedestrian and now he lay on the ground with a minor head injury. An ambulance was pulling up and a FRU was already there, so I called Control to clarify the situation. I wasn’t sure if I had been taken to a separate call at the same location, such was the disparity of the detail.
I left the crew to deal with it when I was told that no other patient was there and I hoped that nobody was languishing in a room somewhere in need of care.
My son Allan is regularly ‘on the road’ now – he’s doing his three year training programme and he’s let loose with an experienced crew mate as he learns the trade, so to speak. He arrived with his ambulance on my next call and it took two glances before I recognised him! My patient was a 56 year-old man with chest pain who, quite frankly, seemed to be playing up for his audience (a frantic, crying woman and a quiet man, both of whom were with him in the dingy flat).
We took him on board and checked him out but, despite his insistence on pain, our tests showed nothing untoward. His ECG was normal enough but we all know that means nothing if the patient says so. I gave him morphine for his pain but his condition appeared to improve regardless of the short amount of time that had passed since it had been administered.
When we got to hospital, he continued to complain of pain (but louder now that he was being watched) and the doctor, after a thorough examination, decided he wasn’t in any trouble. The last I heard he was being demoted to the waiting room…or the outside world.
Another pretender was my 19 year-old drunken student who was carried over to me by his friends in Leicester Square. To look at the drama they created you’d think a soldier-buddy had been hit during a conflict. As soon as I started to speak to this ‘unconscious’ young man, he grinned and quipped. I wasn’t pleased at all. We were busy tonight and the last thing we needed, especially the hospitals, were comedians who thought an ambulance trip would be funny.
‘I just wanna go ‘ome’, he said in a broad Brummy accent.
But no cab or bus would touch him and this meant I’d either have to leave him with his friends or he’d be taken to hospital to sober up and learn to walk again.
The crew (Allan and his mate) arrived and he was wheeled off to the ambulance. His apologetic friends looked on sheepishly as they realised what a fuss they’d created over nothing.
In the ambulance the student continued to be amusing and almost sober. His behaviour would be clocked immediately by the hard-driven A&E staff and they’d turf him into the waiting area, or outside, depending on their workload and mood.
‘Don’t tell my mum, she’d kill me if she knew’.
Too right, I thought, as would I if you were my son. Shame on you.
I left him to the crew and before I closed the back doors of the ambulance I gave him one last piece of advice, which I hoped he’d remember and act upon. ‘Grow up’, I said.
Around the corner, five minutes later, I was asking a homeless Somalian man why he had called us from the phone box he was standing near when I arrived. ‘I have pain down my right side’, he told me. His doctor had already seen him about this and given him mild analgesics and no diagnosis. He was perfectly capable of walking to the nearest GP surgery or drop-in Medical Centre, if he wanted to wait but he didn’t.
What he wanted was a warm bed but I doubt he got it. His condition wasn’t going to make anyone worry because it was historical and non-urgent, so he too would probably join the queue in the waiting area.
Another RTC later on and again a crew was already on scene, as were the police. Two cars were involved; one allegedly side-swiped the other and the airbags had been deployed in the one that had taken the brunt of it.
A well-spoken young Asian man protested at the recklessness of the other driver; he was the one who’d been hit and now his car looked like an expensive repair bill, even from a distance. The other driver had neck pain and was being checked out by the crew. All I had to do was take care of the emotional man who sat in the back seat of my car until the police had finished their checks, statements and two breathalyser tests – both of which were negative.
I left the crew to deal with an assault on Oxford Street where two men had allegedly fought each other by trying to strangle one another with their belts – very bizarre. It must have been a hoot to watch on CCTV. Now one of them was complaining of a neck injury and had demanded an ambulance. The police were on scene to give sympathy. Or possibly not.
I ended the shift outside the flat of a 95 year-old lady who had called us with an unknown problem. Her door was locked and there was no warden available to help us gain access. I arrived with a crew and we ventured into the secure building. We could hear her from the other side of the door and she seemed fine, although she told us that she was unable to walk, so couldn’t open the door.
After a twenty minute attempt to get the keys or a helpful warden (where are they when you need them?), I called Control and requested police assistance. We can’t break doors down unless there is the possibility of loss of life, so the police need to do it for us in circumstances like this.
When they arrived we discussed the options, found that there were none and the door was forced. A hell of a loud bang rang throughout the building and I don’t doubt a few of the residents were rudely awoken. With an average age of 75 years-old in that place, it’s no wonder we didn’t get another call for chest pains after the noise.
It took one charge at the door and it simply gave in without a fight. The old lady was in bed, shaking from the scare she'd got. She had been warned that it would happen but I guess you can never be ready for it when it does.
All she wanted was someone to give her a drink. She’d been left there all night because her scheduled carer hadn’t appeared, so now she was dehydrated and worried.
‘I think I should go back to the nursing home. I just can’t cope. I’m 95 you know’.
We knew and we all understood. She’d need proper care. She couldn’t manage an independent life any more, the poor woman. She’d even been laid into the bed the wrong way round because when I pressed the button to make the head end rise so that she could drink the glass of water I’d brought over from the little table across the room, her feet went up!
I’ve said this before. We don’t take care of our elderly in this country. We seem to have lost our way.
Stats: 1 RTC with head injury; 1 Chest pain; 1 eTOH; 1 Pain in side; 1 RTC with chest pain; 1 Assault with neck injury; 1 Unable to cope.
A varied shift tonight, starting with a call to an hotel given as ‘fainted’ with the caller refusing to check the patient’s breathing (sometimes that’s understandable but I find it irritating that people will call and then do nothing to help). In fact, when I got on scene I was shepherded through the place and back out onto the busy main road at the other exit. It was a RTC; a car had hit a pedestrian and now he lay on the ground with a minor head injury. An ambulance was pulling up and a FRU was already there, so I called Control to clarify the situation. I wasn’t sure if I had been taken to a separate call at the same location, such was the disparity of the detail.
I left the crew to deal with it when I was told that no other patient was there and I hoped that nobody was languishing in a room somewhere in need of care.
My son Allan is regularly ‘on the road’ now – he’s doing his three year training programme and he’s let loose with an experienced crew mate as he learns the trade, so to speak. He arrived with his ambulance on my next call and it took two glances before I recognised him! My patient was a 56 year-old man with chest pain who, quite frankly, seemed to be playing up for his audience (a frantic, crying woman and a quiet man, both of whom were with him in the dingy flat).
We took him on board and checked him out but, despite his insistence on pain, our tests showed nothing untoward. His ECG was normal enough but we all know that means nothing if the patient says so. I gave him morphine for his pain but his condition appeared to improve regardless of the short amount of time that had passed since it had been administered.
When we got to hospital, he continued to complain of pain (but louder now that he was being watched) and the doctor, after a thorough examination, decided he wasn’t in any trouble. The last I heard he was being demoted to the waiting room…or the outside world.
Another pretender was my 19 year-old drunken student who was carried over to me by his friends in Leicester Square. To look at the drama they created you’d think a soldier-buddy had been hit during a conflict. As soon as I started to speak to this ‘unconscious’ young man, he grinned and quipped. I wasn’t pleased at all. We were busy tonight and the last thing we needed, especially the hospitals, were comedians who thought an ambulance trip would be funny.
‘I just wanna go ‘ome’, he said in a broad Brummy accent.
But no cab or bus would touch him and this meant I’d either have to leave him with his friends or he’d be taken to hospital to sober up and learn to walk again.
The crew (Allan and his mate) arrived and he was wheeled off to the ambulance. His apologetic friends looked on sheepishly as they realised what a fuss they’d created over nothing.
In the ambulance the student continued to be amusing and almost sober. His behaviour would be clocked immediately by the hard-driven A&E staff and they’d turf him into the waiting area, or outside, depending on their workload and mood.
‘Don’t tell my mum, she’d kill me if she knew’.
Too right, I thought, as would I if you were my son. Shame on you.
I left him to the crew and before I closed the back doors of the ambulance I gave him one last piece of advice, which I hoped he’d remember and act upon. ‘Grow up’, I said.
Around the corner, five minutes later, I was asking a homeless Somalian man why he had called us from the phone box he was standing near when I arrived. ‘I have pain down my right side’, he told me. His doctor had already seen him about this and given him mild analgesics and no diagnosis. He was perfectly capable of walking to the nearest GP surgery or drop-in Medical Centre, if he wanted to wait but he didn’t.
What he wanted was a warm bed but I doubt he got it. His condition wasn’t going to make anyone worry because it was historical and non-urgent, so he too would probably join the queue in the waiting area.
Another RTC later on and again a crew was already on scene, as were the police. Two cars were involved; one allegedly side-swiped the other and the airbags had been deployed in the one that had taken the brunt of it.
A well-spoken young Asian man protested at the recklessness of the other driver; he was the one who’d been hit and now his car looked like an expensive repair bill, even from a distance. The other driver had neck pain and was being checked out by the crew. All I had to do was take care of the emotional man who sat in the back seat of my car until the police had finished their checks, statements and two breathalyser tests – both of which were negative.
I left the crew to deal with an assault on Oxford Street where two men had allegedly fought each other by trying to strangle one another with their belts – very bizarre. It must have been a hoot to watch on CCTV. Now one of them was complaining of a neck injury and had demanded an ambulance. The police were on scene to give sympathy. Or possibly not.
I ended the shift outside the flat of a 95 year-old lady who had called us with an unknown problem. Her door was locked and there was no warden available to help us gain access. I arrived with a crew and we ventured into the secure building. We could hear her from the other side of the door and she seemed fine, although she told us that she was unable to walk, so couldn’t open the door.
After a twenty minute attempt to get the keys or a helpful warden (where are they when you need them?), I called Control and requested police assistance. We can’t break doors down unless there is the possibility of loss of life, so the police need to do it for us in circumstances like this.
When they arrived we discussed the options, found that there were none and the door was forced. A hell of a loud bang rang throughout the building and I don’t doubt a few of the residents were rudely awoken. With an average age of 75 years-old in that place, it’s no wonder we didn’t get another call for chest pains after the noise.
It took one charge at the door and it simply gave in without a fight. The old lady was in bed, shaking from the scare she'd got. She had been warned that it would happen but I guess you can never be ready for it when it does.
All she wanted was someone to give her a drink. She’d been left there all night because her scheduled carer hadn’t appeared, so now she was dehydrated and worried.
‘I think I should go back to the nursing home. I just can’t cope. I’m 95 you know’.
We knew and we all understood. She’d need proper care. She couldn’t manage an independent life any more, the poor woman. She’d even been laid into the bed the wrong way round because when I pressed the button to make the head end rise so that she could drink the glass of water I’d brought over from the little table across the room, her feet went up!
I’ve said this before. We don’t take care of our elderly in this country. We seem to have lost our way.
Be safe.
Thursday, 22 January 2009
Decomposition
Night shift: Seven calls; one left at scene; one taken in the car; five by ambulance.
Stats: 1 eTOH; 1 Purple plus; 1 ? Fit; 1 eTOH with hypothermia; 1 EP fit; 1 Back pain; 1 Psuedo-choking.
One of our MRU colleagues was hit by a car tonight – he’s in hospital with a fractured rib and possible spleen injury. The man is a friend of mine and well respected in our complex. A sense of shock at yet another MRU collision pervades the place at the moment. Incidents like this, involving the MRU team are not common but they are becoming more frequent and unless other drivers slow down and take care when they see one approach, more are likely to occur until someone is seriously injured or killed in the course of their duty.
A woman sat slumped on the steps of her college, unwilling to speak to anyone and obviously drunk until the staff had no choice but to call an ambulance for her. It’s not the first time she’s behaved like this by all accounts and she stubbornly refused to communicate or even look at me as I tried to reason with her. She wasn’t medically ill but I’m sure other issues influenced the way she was, apart from alcohol. The crew took her away to hospital…again.
Death seems to be the theme for the first month of the year for me. I was called to a dead man who was found in his flat by police after they broke down the door of his flat. Nobody had seen him since November and it’s very likely he’d been on the floor of his kitchen, bowed over as if in prayer, for the past two months. There was certainly plenty of evidence of him being long deceased; the overpowering smell as you entered the lobby, the blackened skin, which was virtually melting onto the floor and the presence of hundreds of flies – generations of them lay dead on the floor and the more lively ones buzzed around the light bulb in the hallway.
A crew was with me and more of us turned up but this was an open and shut thing, requiring only a pronouncement of life extinct – paperwork for the police.
A neighbour had called the police after the smell had been detected in the building. They were told that mouse dropping could be seen all over the carpet and the police themselves thought that’s what it was when they peered through the letter box. In fact, it was a mass of deceased black flies and I had to walk onto them to get a close look at the man in order to satisfy the procedure required for the paperwork.
Stats: 1 eTOH; 1 Purple plus; 1 ? Fit; 1 eTOH with hypothermia; 1 EP fit; 1 Back pain; 1 Psuedo-choking.
One of our MRU colleagues was hit by a car tonight – he’s in hospital with a fractured rib and possible spleen injury. The man is a friend of mine and well respected in our complex. A sense of shock at yet another MRU collision pervades the place at the moment. Incidents like this, involving the MRU team are not common but they are becoming more frequent and unless other drivers slow down and take care when they see one approach, more are likely to occur until someone is seriously injured or killed in the course of their duty.
A woman sat slumped on the steps of her college, unwilling to speak to anyone and obviously drunk until the staff had no choice but to call an ambulance for her. It’s not the first time she’s behaved like this by all accounts and she stubbornly refused to communicate or even look at me as I tried to reason with her. She wasn’t medically ill but I’m sure other issues influenced the way she was, apart from alcohol. The crew took her away to hospital…again.
Death seems to be the theme for the first month of the year for me. I was called to a dead man who was found in his flat by police after they broke down the door of his flat. Nobody had seen him since November and it’s very likely he’d been on the floor of his kitchen, bowed over as if in prayer, for the past two months. There was certainly plenty of evidence of him being long deceased; the overpowering smell as you entered the lobby, the blackened skin, which was virtually melting onto the floor and the presence of hundreds of flies – generations of them lay dead on the floor and the more lively ones buzzed around the light bulb in the hallway.
A crew was with me and more of us turned up but this was an open and shut thing, requiring only a pronouncement of life extinct – paperwork for the police.
A neighbour had called the police after the smell had been detected in the building. They were told that mouse dropping could be seen all over the carpet and the police themselves thought that’s what it was when they peered through the letter box. In fact, it was a mass of deceased black flies and I had to walk onto them to get a close look at the man in order to satisfy the procedure required for the paperwork.
'He sticks to the floor when you move him', one of the cops said.
We all looked at each other. None of us were about to test that comment. The Coroner would deal with this one.
I was cancelled on top of a call to a 65 year-old man who had collapsed in a pub, so I pulled up and started writing it up but the crew who’d been called and were 'on scene', according to Control, rolled past me on the way there and I got a look from the attendant as if to say ‘why aren’t you doing this one?’. I followed them just in case they needed help but there was no drama and the patient only needed two people and an ambulance. Still, I had to apologise in case they thought I was sitting it out deliberately.
Off to see a 45 year-old man who was ‘very drunk and collapsed’ next. He was drunk but he wasn’t on his knees – he was standing outside a women’s hostel and two of the residents had called an ambulance stating that he was on his last legs. I found that out when I asked Control why this had been given a Red2. The women told me that it wasn’t an emergency and that they’d specifically told the call-taker that. Obviously, they’d told a lie to get rid of him as he stalked the entrance to their secure place.
He was very cold and my first thought to have him go and find a warm dry place to sleep (he told me he had nowhere to go) changed when the crew arrived and his temperature was taken. I expected it to be low but at just over 33 degrees it was best if he went to hospital. He had been in the day before – we knew that because he was still wearing his name band and he sported the tell-tale sign of someone who’d walked out before being treated properly – a cannula in his arm.
I removed the dried up piece of plastic tubing from his vein and the attendant covered his wound. If he walks out again tonight, nobody will have any sympathy for his plight.
When the ambulance had gone, I made a point of referring him to London Street Rescue, so hopefully he will get a place to lay his head out of this awful weather.
A 25 year-old epileptic woman was fitting in a restaurant after downing ‘a lot’ of alcohol, according to her friends, who were quite drunk too. She lay on the floor telling me that she was fine but when the crew got there she fitted again twice, before recovering as she was taken into the ambulance and out of sight of her mates. She became immediately lucid after that – kind of unusual for someone who’s had so many seizures in a short space of time. She wasn’t even tired.
I’ve helped my Control colleagues out many times by attending to one of their own when they become ill or injured at work, so I wasn’t phased to be asked to take a young woman with back pain to hospital. It gave me a chance to have a chat with someone else in green for a change.
Many people call us thinking they are choking when they have a lump in their throat or a partial obstruction caused by food that can easily be cleared. More often than not the lump they feel is in their oesophagus and not the trachea, with no chance of an imminently life-threatening event but they dial 999 in panic. A 51 year-old Chinese man was taken to hospital by the crew when he complained of such a lump, whilst being perfectly able to talk. I stood by to offer any help they might need but there were three of them (a trainee crew and their supervisor) so I just killed a little time on scene instead.
I was cancelled on top of a call to a 65 year-old man who had collapsed in a pub, so I pulled up and started writing it up but the crew who’d been called and were 'on scene', according to Control, rolled past me on the way there and I got a look from the attendant as if to say ‘why aren’t you doing this one?’. I followed them just in case they needed help but there was no drama and the patient only needed two people and an ambulance. Still, I had to apologise in case they thought I was sitting it out deliberately.
Off to see a 45 year-old man who was ‘very drunk and collapsed’ next. He was drunk but he wasn’t on his knees – he was standing outside a women’s hostel and two of the residents had called an ambulance stating that he was on his last legs. I found that out when I asked Control why this had been given a Red2. The women told me that it wasn’t an emergency and that they’d specifically told the call-taker that. Obviously, they’d told a lie to get rid of him as he stalked the entrance to their secure place.
He was very cold and my first thought to have him go and find a warm dry place to sleep (he told me he had nowhere to go) changed when the crew arrived and his temperature was taken. I expected it to be low but at just over 33 degrees it was best if he went to hospital. He had been in the day before – we knew that because he was still wearing his name band and he sported the tell-tale sign of someone who’d walked out before being treated properly – a cannula in his arm.
I removed the dried up piece of plastic tubing from his vein and the attendant covered his wound. If he walks out again tonight, nobody will have any sympathy for his plight.
When the ambulance had gone, I made a point of referring him to London Street Rescue, so hopefully he will get a place to lay his head out of this awful weather.
A 25 year-old epileptic woman was fitting in a restaurant after downing ‘a lot’ of alcohol, according to her friends, who were quite drunk too. She lay on the floor telling me that she was fine but when the crew got there she fitted again twice, before recovering as she was taken into the ambulance and out of sight of her mates. She became immediately lucid after that – kind of unusual for someone who’s had so many seizures in a short space of time. She wasn’t even tired.
I’ve helped my Control colleagues out many times by attending to one of their own when they become ill or injured at work, so I wasn’t phased to be asked to take a young woman with back pain to hospital. It gave me a chance to have a chat with someone else in green for a change.
Many people call us thinking they are choking when they have a lump in their throat or a partial obstruction caused by food that can easily be cleared. More often than not the lump they feel is in their oesophagus and not the trachea, with no chance of an imminently life-threatening event but they dial 999 in panic. A 51 year-old Chinese man was taken to hospital by the crew when he complained of such a lump, whilst being perfectly able to talk. I stood by to offer any help they might need but there were three of them (a trainee crew and their supervisor) so I just killed a little time on scene instead.
Be safe.
Private parking
Don't panic - it's a stock photograph!Night shift: four calls; all by ambulance.
Stats: 1 Faint; 1 DIB; 1 Assault with nose injury; 1 Hypothermia.
It rained most of the night, so people were disinclined to go outside and get hammered. That meant I had a fairly quiet shift. That and the fact that we had a million ambulances on the road and no less than three cars were working in my area. Unfortunately (and before anyone starts ranting about how little we do) this is just the calm before the storm. When the weather improves and/or the weekend approaches, things will get back to normal and we will be dealing with 4,000 calls a night.
I met someone I haven’t seen for at least a year tonight. I was in Leicester Square watching the place being packed up after Tom Cruise had graced it’s pavement for his Premiere, when a little guy in a wheelchair rolled up with a big smile. He’s been around for years and I’ve commented on him several times on this blog.
He’s a helpful type; a first aider, he says. He loves to get involved in calls when we are around and he’ll direct traffic and move people out of the way, even though it isn’t necessary. I asked him how he was and what he was doing. He was dressed smartly with a shirt and tie on and I suspect he was hoping Mr. Cruise would take notice of him.
‘I’m working now’, he said.
‘Doing what?’ I asked.
‘I’m a street performer’.
I looked at him in his wheelchair and tried to work out what kind of performance he would give but gave up and asked him instead.
‘I’m a wheelchair break dancer’, he told me with a proud grin.
Theatres are places in which one can see a good (or bad) show, enjoy the company of several thousand other people, (if you are into that sort of thing)...and faint. We get lots of calls for people passing out in those old, hot places. So I wasn’t surprised when I was called to a 60 year-old who’d collapsed in one. She was recovering in the cooler lobby when I arrived and within minutes a crew had turned up and she was taken into the ambulance for an ECG and further checks. She was taken to hospital on advice.
I drove for miles in the mucky rain and in poor visibility just to find a crew on scene with the 82 year-old UTI patient who was suffering from DIB. I wasn’t required.
Later on, off to Trafalgar Square for a 23 year-old man who had been assaulted. A crew was searching the area when I arrived and the police were none the wiser about the location of the alleged victim.
Eventually, he was found and taken aboard the ambulance with a minor nose injury after having been punched in the face at random.
My last call gave me a bit of a fright. I was crawling down a dark street at five in the morning, with the rain making things difficult to see. I was looking for a man who had been found ‘unconscious’ on the ground. As I continued down the street, I began to pull over so that I could see the house numbers better. I had been given a number outside which the man was supposedly laying. Just as I drew closer to the kerb, I noticed a light-coloured lump and identified a human shape, a few feet from my wheels.
The man was lying in the road...in a parking bay! I could have killed him. I was a matter of seconds away from running over his head with my front wheel. This was a close call and if I hadn’t been looking in the right place at the right time, I wouldn’t be writing this.
Working solo in the car means driving slowly and looking out for your patient or the windmill at the same time. It takes concentration and you have to stay alert. That’s difficult to do at 5am on a dark, rainy morning.
I wasn’t pleased with him. I knew he was just sleeping...they usually are. The fact that a hostel was just around the corner meant that the chances of him being homeless and possibly alcoholic were high.
I woke him up, took him to the car and that’s when my dysfunctional windmill appeared. He wandered out from his building and said ‘Yeah, I called you. He’s been there for ages’.
I thought why didn’t you wait with him and wave at me when I came down the street? I wouldn’t have had my close call if you’d done that.
Anyway, the man was very cold – 34.6 degrees and the crew took him to hospital when they arrived five minutes later. He was a cold and wet, homeless alcoholic and he almost became a dead one.
Stats: 1 Faint; 1 DIB; 1 Assault with nose injury; 1 Hypothermia.
It rained most of the night, so people were disinclined to go outside and get hammered. That meant I had a fairly quiet shift. That and the fact that we had a million ambulances on the road and no less than three cars were working in my area. Unfortunately (and before anyone starts ranting about how little we do) this is just the calm before the storm. When the weather improves and/or the weekend approaches, things will get back to normal and we will be dealing with 4,000 calls a night.
I met someone I haven’t seen for at least a year tonight. I was in Leicester Square watching the place being packed up after Tom Cruise had graced it’s pavement for his Premiere, when a little guy in a wheelchair rolled up with a big smile. He’s been around for years and I’ve commented on him several times on this blog.
He’s a helpful type; a first aider, he says. He loves to get involved in calls when we are around and he’ll direct traffic and move people out of the way, even though it isn’t necessary. I asked him how he was and what he was doing. He was dressed smartly with a shirt and tie on and I suspect he was hoping Mr. Cruise would take notice of him.
‘I’m working now’, he said.
‘Doing what?’ I asked.
‘I’m a street performer’.
I looked at him in his wheelchair and tried to work out what kind of performance he would give but gave up and asked him instead.
‘I’m a wheelchair break dancer’, he told me with a proud grin.
Theatres are places in which one can see a good (or bad) show, enjoy the company of several thousand other people, (if you are into that sort of thing)...and faint. We get lots of calls for people passing out in those old, hot places. So I wasn’t surprised when I was called to a 60 year-old who’d collapsed in one. She was recovering in the cooler lobby when I arrived and within minutes a crew had turned up and she was taken into the ambulance for an ECG and further checks. She was taken to hospital on advice.
I drove for miles in the mucky rain and in poor visibility just to find a crew on scene with the 82 year-old UTI patient who was suffering from DIB. I wasn’t required.
Later on, off to Trafalgar Square for a 23 year-old man who had been assaulted. A crew was searching the area when I arrived and the police were none the wiser about the location of the alleged victim.
Eventually, he was found and taken aboard the ambulance with a minor nose injury after having been punched in the face at random.
My last call gave me a bit of a fright. I was crawling down a dark street at five in the morning, with the rain making things difficult to see. I was looking for a man who had been found ‘unconscious’ on the ground. As I continued down the street, I began to pull over so that I could see the house numbers better. I had been given a number outside which the man was supposedly laying. Just as I drew closer to the kerb, I noticed a light-coloured lump and identified a human shape, a few feet from my wheels.
The man was lying in the road...in a parking bay! I could have killed him. I was a matter of seconds away from running over his head with my front wheel. This was a close call and if I hadn’t been looking in the right place at the right time, I wouldn’t be writing this.
Working solo in the car means driving slowly and looking out for your patient or the windmill at the same time. It takes concentration and you have to stay alert. That’s difficult to do at 5am on a dark, rainy morning.
I wasn’t pleased with him. I knew he was just sleeping...they usually are. The fact that a hostel was just around the corner meant that the chances of him being homeless and possibly alcoholic were high.
I woke him up, took him to the car and that’s when my dysfunctional windmill appeared. He wandered out from his building and said ‘Yeah, I called you. He’s been there for ages’.
I thought why didn’t you wait with him and wave at me when I came down the street? I wouldn’t have had my close call if you’d done that.
Anyway, the man was very cold – 34.6 degrees and the crew took him to hospital when they arrived five minutes later. He was a cold and wet, homeless alcoholic and he almost became a dead one.
Be safe.
Wednesday, 21 January 2009
Book worm
I've started 2009 with LOTS of enthusiasm about writing new stuff and I will probably kill myself doing it. I want to write at least two new books this year...possibly three. I am working on a fictional novel called 'The Station', based on real calls in and around London and using characters I know well BUT I don't know if I should produce one big book or create a periodical short story series, like a soap opera. Let me know what you think.I'm also writing a street-wise guide for paramedics-to-be and anyone else interested in the profession. This should be finished by the Summer.
Finally, I want to start work later in the year on a compilation of the funniest, stupidest stories that paramedics around the world have to tell from their own experiences. I'd like you to submit (by email) any stories you think may be fit for a book - I can't pay you 'cos that would be financially impossible BUT I will credit you (and if you have enough stories of your own, I may even give you a chapter with your name on it) Oh and you'll get free copies, the number would depend on your contribution and the publisher's discretion.
I have hundreds of professional readers around the world, so it would be great to hear from you. Remember you must submit them by EMAIL and they must be true...obviously you may elaborate a little to disguise the identity of people and places.
So, tell me what you think. This is going to be very hard work and my wife isn't pleased with me (she thinks I take on way too much) but I will go for it if there's a demand.
Xf
Tuesday, 20 January 2009
Forked off
A deadly weapon in the wrong hands...Night shift: Eight calls; one assisted-only, seven by ambulance.
Stats: 2 Unwell adults; 1 Faint; 1 Cold person; 1 Stabbing; 2 Panic attacks; 1 Unconscious
A 64 year-old Slovakian alcoholic sits on a wall as his three mates prop him up after calling an ambulance, claiming he has chest pain. When I arrive he seems cold and out of it. He hasn’t had a drink all day, I’m told, so he may be ill as a result of withdrawal symptoms, although they usually kick in after a longer period without alcohol.
I find it very difficult to communicate and resort to using a Polish translator from Language Line who can speak some Slovakian. I get enough information to determine that there is no chest pain and that the man is just generally unwell…cold and sick.
The crew arrive as I am trying to launch a conversation via the phone and we get him into the back of the ambulance with a struggle because he is unwilling or unable to put one foot in front of the other. His previously concerned drinking buddies disappear as soon as we move him. Unfortunately his trousers begin to fall off, so his dignity disappears too.
Then on to a 75 year-old who has fainted in a lecture hall with hundreds of his peers looking on. The man is a doctor and so is his wife and this makes life problematic as I try to ascertain what’s happened to him. His wife has taken control of everything before I get there and he’s being hauled into a wheelchair to be removed from the hall and the gaze of everyone in it. So I wait until he’s out in the corridor and I ask a few questions.
‘What exactly happened to him?’
His wife begins to talk at a hundred miles an hour and she is adamant he’s alright and that he doesn’t need to go to hospital. ‘This happens to him all the time’, she says. I don’t doubt her but he is very pale and very sweaty – I’m concerned about the possibility of a cardiac related problem.
When the crew arrive we manage to get him into the ambulance but his wife is still being stubborn about him going anywhere. I reassure her that he won’t be taken to hospital if that’s his wish…but it has to be his wish, not hers.
In the end he went because he began to feel faint again in the vehicle and that was enough to convince us all, including Mrs Doctor, that he wasn’t well.
The calls kept coming in at a steady pace and my next one took me to a flat where an 86 year-old was ‘not waking up’. Of course I thought the same as the crew when they pulled up beside me on scene; this might be a suspended - but it wasn’t. The entire family had gathered in the small flat to witness their mother/grandmother being surrounded by yellow jackets as she slept. She opened her eyes and looked around. She may have been unwell but sleep doesn’t count as cardiac arrest.
A regular caller said ‘chest pain’ and he got the response he desired. I arrived with the crew and at first we couldn’t locate him but eventually, after a quick area search, he appeared from a callbox, waving at us in time-honoured fashion. He was cold and wanted somewhere warm to sleep. The crew knew him and I recognised him vaguely. The man has learning difficulties and this is how he gets home.
I thought I was on my way to a serious call when I was given the details. ‘Man stabbed in neck’ turned out to be a restaurant manager who had been assaulted by someone with a fork. It had been planted in his cheek; hardly life threatening but still a shock to the system I daresay. The police were there in number of course and I had to cancel any other resource that may be sent to it, such as HEMS, just in case the paying customers became outnumbered by uniforms. It’s hard enough to eat when one person is watching you, right?
The first of two hyperventilating panic attacks was a 40 year-old woman who’d woken up with DIB. I suggested sleep apnoea may have been the cause (she’s a self-confessed snorer) and that she should see her GP about it. She didn’t want to go to hospital and really didn’t need to because she was fully recovered from her fright.
The second panic-stricken person was a drunken 19 year-old who had gathered with his friends on a corner after being out celebrating his first class honours degree. Unfortunately he took a turn for the worst when he couldn’t cope with the emotion of it all (alcohol does that) so he had his mates dial 999 for him. I found him breathing way too fast and crying whenever he could. He was taken to hospital because try as we did, the crew and I couldn’t settle him down fully and he wasn’t fit for the streets. His habit of spitting on the ambulance floor and at random into the air didn't enamour any of us either.
Two MOPs found a 27 year-old smartly dressed girl lying on the pavement of a busy street. One of them used the young woman’s mobile phone to find out who she was and what might be wrong with her. She was on her side as if she’d gone to sleep there but she was unconscious and even deep pain couldn’t get a response from her at first. She was getting very cold too.
When the ambulance arrived, we put her in the back on the trolley bed and she began to stir a little; her eyes were open but she still didn’t acknowledge us or the world. She’d been drinking after a long dry spell (according to her mother, who I spoke to on the phone) and that probably caused her to collapse and blank out in the street but I suspect she’d simply laid down to go to sleep not knowing that she was in danger. It’s not the area to be sleeping in at four in the morning, especially if you are a female. She was lucky to have two caring people passing by to help her.
Stats: 2 Unwell adults; 1 Faint; 1 Cold person; 1 Stabbing; 2 Panic attacks; 1 Unconscious
A 64 year-old Slovakian alcoholic sits on a wall as his three mates prop him up after calling an ambulance, claiming he has chest pain. When I arrive he seems cold and out of it. He hasn’t had a drink all day, I’m told, so he may be ill as a result of withdrawal symptoms, although they usually kick in after a longer period without alcohol.
I find it very difficult to communicate and resort to using a Polish translator from Language Line who can speak some Slovakian. I get enough information to determine that there is no chest pain and that the man is just generally unwell…cold and sick.
The crew arrive as I am trying to launch a conversation via the phone and we get him into the back of the ambulance with a struggle because he is unwilling or unable to put one foot in front of the other. His previously concerned drinking buddies disappear as soon as we move him. Unfortunately his trousers begin to fall off, so his dignity disappears too.
Then on to a 75 year-old who has fainted in a lecture hall with hundreds of his peers looking on. The man is a doctor and so is his wife and this makes life problematic as I try to ascertain what’s happened to him. His wife has taken control of everything before I get there and he’s being hauled into a wheelchair to be removed from the hall and the gaze of everyone in it. So I wait until he’s out in the corridor and I ask a few questions.
‘What exactly happened to him?’
His wife begins to talk at a hundred miles an hour and she is adamant he’s alright and that he doesn’t need to go to hospital. ‘This happens to him all the time’, she says. I don’t doubt her but he is very pale and very sweaty – I’m concerned about the possibility of a cardiac related problem.
When the crew arrive we manage to get him into the ambulance but his wife is still being stubborn about him going anywhere. I reassure her that he won’t be taken to hospital if that’s his wish…but it has to be his wish, not hers.
In the end he went because he began to feel faint again in the vehicle and that was enough to convince us all, including Mrs Doctor, that he wasn’t well.
The calls kept coming in at a steady pace and my next one took me to a flat where an 86 year-old was ‘not waking up’. Of course I thought the same as the crew when they pulled up beside me on scene; this might be a suspended - but it wasn’t. The entire family had gathered in the small flat to witness their mother/grandmother being surrounded by yellow jackets as she slept. She opened her eyes and looked around. She may have been unwell but sleep doesn’t count as cardiac arrest.
A regular caller said ‘chest pain’ and he got the response he desired. I arrived with the crew and at first we couldn’t locate him but eventually, after a quick area search, he appeared from a callbox, waving at us in time-honoured fashion. He was cold and wanted somewhere warm to sleep. The crew knew him and I recognised him vaguely. The man has learning difficulties and this is how he gets home.
I thought I was on my way to a serious call when I was given the details. ‘Man stabbed in neck’ turned out to be a restaurant manager who had been assaulted by someone with a fork. It had been planted in his cheek; hardly life threatening but still a shock to the system I daresay. The police were there in number of course and I had to cancel any other resource that may be sent to it, such as HEMS, just in case the paying customers became outnumbered by uniforms. It’s hard enough to eat when one person is watching you, right?
The first of two hyperventilating panic attacks was a 40 year-old woman who’d woken up with DIB. I suggested sleep apnoea may have been the cause (she’s a self-confessed snorer) and that she should see her GP about it. She didn’t want to go to hospital and really didn’t need to because she was fully recovered from her fright.
The second panic-stricken person was a drunken 19 year-old who had gathered with his friends on a corner after being out celebrating his first class honours degree. Unfortunately he took a turn for the worst when he couldn’t cope with the emotion of it all (alcohol does that) so he had his mates dial 999 for him. I found him breathing way too fast and crying whenever he could. He was taken to hospital because try as we did, the crew and I couldn’t settle him down fully and he wasn’t fit for the streets. His habit of spitting on the ambulance floor and at random into the air didn't enamour any of us either.
Two MOPs found a 27 year-old smartly dressed girl lying on the pavement of a busy street. One of them used the young woman’s mobile phone to find out who she was and what might be wrong with her. She was on her side as if she’d gone to sleep there but she was unconscious and even deep pain couldn’t get a response from her at first. She was getting very cold too.
When the ambulance arrived, we put her in the back on the trolley bed and she began to stir a little; her eyes were open but she still didn’t acknowledge us or the world. She’d been drinking after a long dry spell (according to her mother, who I spoke to on the phone) and that probably caused her to collapse and blank out in the street but I suspect she’d simply laid down to go to sleep not knowing that she was in danger. It’s not the area to be sleeping in at four in the morning, especially if you are a female. She was lucky to have two caring people passing by to help her.
Be safe.
Sunday, 18 January 2009
Splashback
Day shift: Three calls; one assisted-only, two by ambulance.
Stats: 1 eTOH; 1 Fall with head injury; 1 EP fit.
I had a whole day of virtually nothing to do but wait and it dragged on forever. We have plenty of resources out and about and the call volume has dropped post New Year, so as a solo in a FRU I don’t get assigned many calls unless there is a need for me. Lots of coffee gets consumed on days like this but I’m also glad of the break in pace.
The morning started with a 25 year-old propping himself up against a wall. He was drunk and in no need of an ambulance; someone else had seen him and decided he needed one. The caller even came across the road to tell me and the crew (who’d arrived at the same time) that he was unconscious. He was the most alert unconscious person I’ve seen.
Bemused and irritated, the man refused all help from us – he was drunk and had nowhere to go for the moment. He was advised to move on though because he would certainly generate more calls if he slumped to the ground and went to sleep.
A lovely 85 year-old fell against a door and bumped her head so she pressed her alarm and the care people arrived to help her. They decided she needed an ambulance so we were called. I met the two men who’d helped her onto her chair as they left the block of flats and they told me how she was.
I walked in to find her ready and waiting to go to hospital with a big beaming smile on her face. I smiled back and we had a conversation about her mishap and, with her permission, a feel of the bump at the back of her head. There was no bleeding and she hadn’t been knocked out but her age was against her, so the crew popped her on a chair and off she went, still smiling.
Back to the same police station as yesterday for an HIV+ drug addict who claimed he was epileptic and had been fitting. The police officers confirmed that he’d had three fits but when he became glassy eyed and silent during another event, I didn’t buy it. Neither did the crew. He could have been experiencing an absence I guess but when he was in the ambulance with us he was animated and completely with it. He didn’t have another 'fit' all the way to hospital.
‘I was a landscape gardener then I came down here to visit friends and ended up a junkie’ he told me as if the ease with which he ruined his entire life was inescapable.
‘So why don’t you clean up and go back to working?’ I suggested, ‘others have done it.’
‘I’m going to, definitely.’ He said unconvincingly. I'll see this man dead or in a bad way soon enough if he doesn't heed his own sense.
The 30 year-old Glaswegian caused a bit of concern when, as my colleague attempted to flush the cannula inserted in him, fluid spurted out and onto his face. None of it hit his mouth or eyes but he wouldn’t have been at risk because the fluid was just a backflow of saline from the obstructed cannula, not the vein itself. It’s a sure sign that the cannula won’t run. Still, those moments are nerve-jangling when they happen and my colleague continually wiped his face as if there was something nasty on it.
Be safe.
Stats: 1 eTOH; 1 Fall with head injury; 1 EP fit.
I had a whole day of virtually nothing to do but wait and it dragged on forever. We have plenty of resources out and about and the call volume has dropped post New Year, so as a solo in a FRU I don’t get assigned many calls unless there is a need for me. Lots of coffee gets consumed on days like this but I’m also glad of the break in pace.
The morning started with a 25 year-old propping himself up against a wall. He was drunk and in no need of an ambulance; someone else had seen him and decided he needed one. The caller even came across the road to tell me and the crew (who’d arrived at the same time) that he was unconscious. He was the most alert unconscious person I’ve seen.
Bemused and irritated, the man refused all help from us – he was drunk and had nowhere to go for the moment. He was advised to move on though because he would certainly generate more calls if he slumped to the ground and went to sleep.
A lovely 85 year-old fell against a door and bumped her head so she pressed her alarm and the care people arrived to help her. They decided she needed an ambulance so we were called. I met the two men who’d helped her onto her chair as they left the block of flats and they told me how she was.
I walked in to find her ready and waiting to go to hospital with a big beaming smile on her face. I smiled back and we had a conversation about her mishap and, with her permission, a feel of the bump at the back of her head. There was no bleeding and she hadn’t been knocked out but her age was against her, so the crew popped her on a chair and off she went, still smiling.
Back to the same police station as yesterday for an HIV+ drug addict who claimed he was epileptic and had been fitting. The police officers confirmed that he’d had three fits but when he became glassy eyed and silent during another event, I didn’t buy it. Neither did the crew. He could have been experiencing an absence I guess but when he was in the ambulance with us he was animated and completely with it. He didn’t have another 'fit' all the way to hospital.
‘I was a landscape gardener then I came down here to visit friends and ended up a junkie’ he told me as if the ease with which he ruined his entire life was inescapable.
‘So why don’t you clean up and go back to working?’ I suggested, ‘others have done it.’
‘I’m going to, definitely.’ He said unconvincingly. I'll see this man dead or in a bad way soon enough if he doesn't heed his own sense.
The 30 year-old Glaswegian caused a bit of concern when, as my colleague attempted to flush the cannula inserted in him, fluid spurted out and onto his face. None of it hit his mouth or eyes but he wouldn’t have been at risk because the fluid was just a backflow of saline from the obstructed cannula, not the vein itself. It’s a sure sign that the cannula won’t run. Still, those moments are nerve-jangling when they happen and my colleague continually wiped his face as if there was something nasty on it.
Be safe.
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