You may, or may not have noticed a few changes that have been going on recently - I've stopped reporting statistics and detailing every call on every shift and I'm not reporting as often as I used to.
I've been writing this blog for more than four years and it has been hard work. Not that this has deterred me in my mission to uncover the game we play out here - the tragedy, sadness, abuse and downright stupidity that my colleagues and I face every day. It has tired me out over the years and I sometimes find it difficult to see wood for trees; clinically this makes it a risky business.
So, I'm giving my family more time, paying more attention to my business and getting on with my future career. I'll be coming 'off the road' in due course - I need a break from the stuff I've been working with over the years, especially as a solo on the car. I may opt for a six month hiatus, possibly longer but I will still be writing - I'll just be writing differently.
Postings will now cover calls that are interesting or relevant... or that have a pertinent point to make. I've recorded two years of stats and I'm sure those of you who have bothered to look closely at them will be as shocked as I am about the nature of our emergency system and the abuse it suffers. Nobody is doing anything about it - we are just throwing more money at it than ever before. This is not the time for such reckless spending of public money.
This change isn't new. When I first started the blog, I reported only those jobs that were worth writing about, so I am just going back to my roots as it were. I also need time to finish the novel, which is 2/3 complete. A final push into my fictional world will be worth more in terms of enjoyment than a continuation of my record of nonsense calls and drunken behaviour; or as one unkind person described it - drivel.
I am also very restricted these days - the bigger the blog has become, the worse the imposition on my right to free speech. If I could write exactly the way I think and speak, not only would I feel happier about it but I would spend less of my precious time editing and re-editing every post (sanitising them almost) and you would be reading me as I am, without the flannel and sterlisation.
There it is then. The blog is changing and hopefully that will be a good thing. I am proud to have been the inspiration for so many new paramedics, some of whom I've met at work without knowing why they know who I am. This is a positive thing; it shows that my writing has been good for something and may well have shaped the future of people I would otherwise never had anything in common with.
I'm going to get on with the books I have planned because I love to write but I love it more when I don't have to listen to other people telling me what I can and cannot write.
Xf
Saturday, 14 August 2010
Thursday, 12 August 2010
Torn toes and exploding mucus
A couple of interesting calls this week; one involving a three year-old girl who fell onto her arm and possibly fractured or dislocated a bit of it. Whatever she’d done, there was no way on Earth I was going to get a good look at it because she was screaming her little lungs out, so much so that I could feel my eardrums vibrating. Her mother eventually gave up on the whole idea of me taking her to hospital and it was agreed that they’d bring her in themselves (dad and a sibling were on scene too) if she didn’t move the arm. I saw them in A&E later on – waiting in the x-ray department.
An Australian woman fell down six steps and smashed her face on the concrete when she landed. She was with her husband and friends when I arrived and she was concussed – repeating over and over again ‘what happened?’ as concussed people tend to do. Her facial injury seemed innocuous but she lost consciousness briefly after vomiting and I had to put her into the recovery position to prevent her from aspirating.
Now I needed an ambulance. I had done well so far; conveying all of my patients to hospital without the need to ruin a crew’s day but this was a bit more serious and had to go properly. The crew was with me within a few minutes and the lady, who by now had recovered from her passing out episode, was taken away with her husband. I took the two friends in the car so that they could all be together.
Then a 58 year-old man thought he was ‘choking’ in a museum after swallowing meat (therefore undermining the very act of choking. In fact, his obstruction was low down in his abdomen, at the point where the stomach sphincter, known as the Pylorus, allows the passage of broken-down (not depressed) food into the first part of the intestines. I suspected a physical obstruction at that point and he probably had an ulcer lurking around too because he was projecting mucus into the room every now and then – not acid and not bile – mucus.
Anyway, I lay him down for a proper abdo exam and found the plugged bit of food where I expected to feel it. I massaged the small area around it to check for pain and the lump of stuff moved away. He sat up completely pain-free - no more sense of an obstruction down there and no more mucal explosions from his mouth. He was happy to leave it at that but I asked him to get checked out as soon as possible. Various other problems are associated with this; cancer, Pyloric Stenosis (but that mostly affects children) and ulcers, for example.
Another shoe-based incident occurred at an underground station when a 6 year-old got her toe dragged into the metal teeth of the escalator, resulting in a sliced big toe. She was lucky; I’ve seen much worse and all I had to do was clean it, dress it and take her and her parents back to their hotel to get over the shock of it all, which I'm sure they'll find easy considering the five-star luxury they were staying in for their holiday in London.
Be safe.
An Australian woman fell down six steps and smashed her face on the concrete when she landed. She was with her husband and friends when I arrived and she was concussed – repeating over and over again ‘what happened?’ as concussed people tend to do. Her facial injury seemed innocuous but she lost consciousness briefly after vomiting and I had to put her into the recovery position to prevent her from aspirating.
Now I needed an ambulance. I had done well so far; conveying all of my patients to hospital without the need to ruin a crew’s day but this was a bit more serious and had to go properly. The crew was with me within a few minutes and the lady, who by now had recovered from her passing out episode, was taken away with her husband. I took the two friends in the car so that they could all be together.
Then a 58 year-old man thought he was ‘choking’ in a museum after swallowing meat (therefore undermining the very act of choking. In fact, his obstruction was low down in his abdomen, at the point where the stomach sphincter, known as the Pylorus, allows the passage of broken-down (not depressed) food into the first part of the intestines. I suspected a physical obstruction at that point and he probably had an ulcer lurking around too because he was projecting mucus into the room every now and then – not acid and not bile – mucus.
Anyway, I lay him down for a proper abdo exam and found the plugged bit of food where I expected to feel it. I massaged the small area around it to check for pain and the lump of stuff moved away. He sat up completely pain-free - no more sense of an obstruction down there and no more mucal explosions from his mouth. He was happy to leave it at that but I asked him to get checked out as soon as possible. Various other problems are associated with this; cancer, Pyloric Stenosis (but that mostly affects children) and ulcers, for example.
Another shoe-based incident occurred at an underground station when a 6 year-old got her toe dragged into the metal teeth of the escalator, resulting in a sliced big toe. She was lucky; I’ve seen much worse and all I had to do was clean it, dress it and take her and her parents back to their hotel to get over the shock of it all, which I'm sure they'll find easy considering the five-star luxury they were staying in for their holiday in London.
Be safe.
Friday, 6 August 2010
The Vauxhall Grasshopper
Neglect of the elderly and vulnerable is rife in this country; my first call to a 74 year-old woman with abdominal pain revealed a lot more than just her acute condition. Her ‘carer’ was on scene and I got very little information or interest out of her. The crew fared no better when they arrived.
The woman had high blood pressure, swollen ankles and an irregular pulse. Her ECG showed some worrying changes and when the electrodes were applied to her skin we found suppurating areas where the tissue was peeling away. It smelled rotten and her necrotic condition extended to different areas of her body. When I palpated her ankles my gloves lifted off wet skin – not nice. This poor lady is being neglected disgracefully. We took her carefully to hospital.
Apart from the odd kind-of interesting cardiac call, I was bounced around for cancellations all night and the most fascinating thing to happen was that I found a grasshopper in the car. I threw him out onto the street and he headed back towards the car again. I thought once I’d closed the door and left the street he’d be a memory but about an hour later he appeared again, this time on the outside of the windscreen, crawling happily along! I saw him again once or twice and decided to leave him alone. He was happy and if he wants to live out his little green life on a Vauxhall Zafira then who am I to judge?
People who weren’t happy, however, included the drugged up man in the back on the ambulance I was in and whose BP was dropping as a gang of weapon-wielding (I’m sure one of them had a sword) thugs surrounded the ambulance after attacking someone on the street. I called for police assistance but the mob moved on, searching for another victim – someone specific I think. It was a tense moment for me and the crew inside the vehicle. We thought they might try to get in. It happened before a few years ago when a man being chased by such a gang burst into an ambulance while the crew was treating a patient. The gang simply followed him and stabbed him to death in front of the paramedics.
The patient got no better after fluids, so we took him in, rapidly, to hospital, where he spent a while in a queue of stretchers and chair-bound ‘sick’ people until he was brought round with some gentle but firm violence from one of the nurses.
His pupils were pin-point and he was clearly more than just drunk on alcohol – if he was ever drunk on alcohol in the first place.
Be safe.
The woman had high blood pressure, swollen ankles and an irregular pulse. Her ECG showed some worrying changes and when the electrodes were applied to her skin we found suppurating areas where the tissue was peeling away. It smelled rotten and her necrotic condition extended to different areas of her body. When I palpated her ankles my gloves lifted off wet skin – not nice. This poor lady is being neglected disgracefully. We took her carefully to hospital.
Apart from the odd kind-of interesting cardiac call, I was bounced around for cancellations all night and the most fascinating thing to happen was that I found a grasshopper in the car. I threw him out onto the street and he headed back towards the car again. I thought once I’d closed the door and left the street he’d be a memory but about an hour later he appeared again, this time on the outside of the windscreen, crawling happily along! I saw him again once or twice and decided to leave him alone. He was happy and if he wants to live out his little green life on a Vauxhall Zafira then who am I to judge?
People who weren’t happy, however, included the drugged up man in the back on the ambulance I was in and whose BP was dropping as a gang of weapon-wielding (I’m sure one of them had a sword) thugs surrounded the ambulance after attacking someone on the street. I called for police assistance but the mob moved on, searching for another victim – someone specific I think. It was a tense moment for me and the crew inside the vehicle. We thought they might try to get in. It happened before a few years ago when a man being chased by such a gang burst into an ambulance while the crew was treating a patient. The gang simply followed him and stabbed him to death in front of the paramedics.
The patient got no better after fluids, so we took him in, rapidly, to hospital, where he spent a while in a queue of stretchers and chair-bound ‘sick’ people until he was brought round with some gentle but firm violence from one of the nurses.
His pupils were pin-point and he was clearly more than just drunk on alcohol – if he was ever drunk on alcohol in the first place.
Be safe.
Thursday, 5 August 2010
Head first
A 42 year-old woman with a recent history of severe headaches and nausea had her blood pressure tested at work and found it to be high. I double-checked and had to agree with the figures. This was one of those Green calls that turn out to be a little more significant. She was stable so I took her in the car and we chatted about the exclusive club where she worked. I might even join – if they take council-house-bred scum from Glasgow that is.
Later on I was called in support of a crew to attend a 30 year-old man who’d become unconscious in a pub. Now, I know what you’re all thinking and that’s what I was thinking too but this guy had collapsed with ‘exhaustion’ according to his mates.
He was in the recovery position and awake when I arrived with the crew and the first thing he told me – and pertinent to his ongoing care – was that this sort of tiredness collapse had happened to him before when he was a teenager and then again a few years earlier. He’d been drinking but it wasn’t the booze that was affecting him like this.
His ECG was abnormal, showing a possible long QT and his BP dropped in concert with his irregular pulse; none of which would manifest as a result of fatigue, unless he was almost tired to death, which he wasn’t. He was taken into hospital for further checks.
Drink, run and attempt to jump off the bottom four steps at a tube station in order to catch the last train home and you’ll probably fall onto your head – as did my next patient. The 30 year-old cracked the back of his skull open and bled onto the cold stone floor as his girlfriend leaned over him and underground staff mopped up what they could with a dressing.
Initially he looked in no danger but as things progressed (two crews and a collar & board), he became a bit irritable and only oxygen through a trauma mask seemed to settle him. That meant he was going to a more suitable hospital for his head injury. That also meant a long trip south for me.
Sort-of drunken young women entertained me as I drove two of them ahead of the Booze Bus containing their properly drunk mate and her twin sister (who wasn’t drunk). They were loud but funny and came out with some of the most amusing stuff I’ve heard in ages. Usually I get abuse and trouble from inebriated souls but tonight was happy night I think.
When we got to hospital they were freed from the car and allowed to cause havoc with their loud voices and inappropriate photographing. Security didn’t take too kindly to them but they meant no harm. Their friend, meanwhile, was given a cubicle to lie in while her sister fretted beside her. Eighteen year-olds learning the lessons of alcohol – possibly.
Don’t wind down your window when a complete stranger approaches your car and his friend arrives at the other side – especially when all they come out with is ‘Hi, we are from Switzerland. Where is the nearest pub?’ It was 4am and they were just setting out; breakfast in Soho.
Be safe.
Later on I was called in support of a crew to attend a 30 year-old man who’d become unconscious in a pub. Now, I know what you’re all thinking and that’s what I was thinking too but this guy had collapsed with ‘exhaustion’ according to his mates.
He was in the recovery position and awake when I arrived with the crew and the first thing he told me – and pertinent to his ongoing care – was that this sort of tiredness collapse had happened to him before when he was a teenager and then again a few years earlier. He’d been drinking but it wasn’t the booze that was affecting him like this.
His ECG was abnormal, showing a possible long QT and his BP dropped in concert with his irregular pulse; none of which would manifest as a result of fatigue, unless he was almost tired to death, which he wasn’t. He was taken into hospital for further checks.
Drink, run and attempt to jump off the bottom four steps at a tube station in order to catch the last train home and you’ll probably fall onto your head – as did my next patient. The 30 year-old cracked the back of his skull open and bled onto the cold stone floor as his girlfriend leaned over him and underground staff mopped up what they could with a dressing.
Initially he looked in no danger but as things progressed (two crews and a collar & board), he became a bit irritable and only oxygen through a trauma mask seemed to settle him. That meant he was going to a more suitable hospital for his head injury. That also meant a long trip south for me.
Sort-of drunken young women entertained me as I drove two of them ahead of the Booze Bus containing their properly drunk mate and her twin sister (who wasn’t drunk). They were loud but funny and came out with some of the most amusing stuff I’ve heard in ages. Usually I get abuse and trouble from inebriated souls but tonight was happy night I think.
When we got to hospital they were freed from the car and allowed to cause havoc with their loud voices and inappropriate photographing. Security didn’t take too kindly to them but they meant no harm. Their friend, meanwhile, was given a cubicle to lie in while her sister fretted beside her. Eighteen year-olds learning the lessons of alcohol – possibly.
Don’t wind down your window when a complete stranger approaches your car and his friend arrives at the other side – especially when all they come out with is ‘Hi, we are from Switzerland. Where is the nearest pub?’ It was 4am and they were just setting out; breakfast in Soho.
Be safe.
Wednesday, 4 August 2010
Crawling
I met up with the cop from last night’s drama in the park job as he knelt over the supine body of a Latvian drunkard who dropped to the ground in front of him and pretended to be dead so that an ambulance would take him to hospital. When I recognised this and told him I knew he was awake, he opened his eyes and ranted at me about having fought in the Balkans and that he was ‘epileptic’. I told him I wasn’t interested in his war stories; I’ve been to Croatia and Serbia and I know their history – I also know what was done by some of the Serbs in the name of war in those dark days so I wasn’t impressed with his attempt to elicit ignorant sympathy.He lay there until an ambulance arrived to take him away. His behaviour will never change; as long as we supply his demand, he will continue to cost us dearly. We are chucking good money at a simple problem. All we need is a ‘clean-up crew’ to come and take these people away somewhere that they don’t want to be (not the hospital of their choice). Soon enough they will stop abusing us. And epilepsy is the claim they all make in order to get into hospital. They don’t all suffer from it and his weak and pathetic attempt at having a seizure made no dent in anyone’s conscience.
To top off the entertainment, a number of lice, crawling around his belly and beneath his trouser belt-line, began to show themselves and the crew alerted the nurse to the infestation. I found myself scratching at invisible but perfectly imagino-realistic crawling things for an hour or so afterwards.
A truck waited to turn right at a junction and a car raced along towards it. The truck tentatively moved its position and the racing car swerved sharply to avoid a possible collision, resulting in a head-on crash into a very tall lamp post. I was called at the tail end of the shift and spent twenty minutes unloading the on-the-phone-no-neck-pain driver from his seat as water and God knows what else spilled from the crushed front end of his vehicle. The lamp post was at an angle and the concrete under it had been weakened, so there was a real hazard – if the post fell it was likely to kill one, two or many people.
I did all I could; reassured the drivers, listened to the arguments about who was in the wrong (even though I have nothing to do with that side of it) and generally kept things safe… and as soon as the Fire Service, police and an ambulance got on scene I went back to my station and headed for home.
Be safe.
Tuesday, 3 August 2010
The beginning of the change phase
I’m starting a tour of nights and, to be honest, even though twelve jobs came and went, only a few are worth reporting.
I met a lovely family from Saudi Arabia whose mum felt unwell but was just suffering a viral infection. I got on so well with them that later on, after I’d agreed that mum could get on with her night and go out to the West End, I ran into them and we all chatted on the pavement. Only two of the daughters spoke good English but their mum was still up for a laugh and we joked regardless of the language barrier. I learned a lot about people from Saudi in that short time. Photo’s were taken like we were all old friends and then they went onto their futures. They made my night.
The in-between call that depressed my warm, fuzzy feelings, took me to a park where a 20 year-old man was behaving like a two year-old child after having taken in a little alcohol. According to his friends this often happened and it didn’t take much booze to do it. The hint, I would suggest later on to him and his mates, is not to drink at all.
He wailed and cried and thrashed and refused all help until I bundled him, with the help of a couple of police officers, one of whom I seemed to click with as if we’d been friends for ages, into the car until an ambulance arrived and the not-amused crew took charge of him.
I chatted for a while to the Ulster-born cop and we bantered about the job and the rotten politics of it all. It made us feel better I guess. Then I left and he and his partner attempted to go home. Unfortunately, as a passing police officer told me, his car had a flat battery so he was going nowhere. Poor sod.
The last patient of the shift ruined it. She called an ambulance for a swollen ankle, probably caused by an infection. Her room was littered with needles and syringes and she was the shape and size of a self-neglecting drug addict. She’d refused to be taken to hospital earlier, so this was the second time an emergency ambulance had been called for her. Nobody was impressed... least of all me.
Be safe.
I met a lovely family from Saudi Arabia whose mum felt unwell but was just suffering a viral infection. I got on so well with them that later on, after I’d agreed that mum could get on with her night and go out to the West End, I ran into them and we all chatted on the pavement. Only two of the daughters spoke good English but their mum was still up for a laugh and we joked regardless of the language barrier. I learned a lot about people from Saudi in that short time. Photo’s were taken like we were all old friends and then they went onto their futures. They made my night.
The in-between call that depressed my warm, fuzzy feelings, took me to a park where a 20 year-old man was behaving like a two year-old child after having taken in a little alcohol. According to his friends this often happened and it didn’t take much booze to do it. The hint, I would suggest later on to him and his mates, is not to drink at all.
He wailed and cried and thrashed and refused all help until I bundled him, with the help of a couple of police officers, one of whom I seemed to click with as if we’d been friends for ages, into the car until an ambulance arrived and the not-amused crew took charge of him.
I chatted for a while to the Ulster-born cop and we bantered about the job and the rotten politics of it all. It made us feel better I guess. Then I left and he and his partner attempted to go home. Unfortunately, as a passing police officer told me, his car had a flat battery so he was going nowhere. Poor sod.
The last patient of the shift ruined it. She called an ambulance for a swollen ankle, probably caused by an infection. Her room was littered with needles and syringes and she was the shape and size of a self-neglecting drug addict. She’d refused to be taken to hospital earlier, so this was the second time an emergency ambulance had been called for her. Nobody was impressed... least of all me.
Be safe.
Wednesday, 28 July 2010
The cost of other people
Day shift: Five calls; two by car, three by ambulance.
Stats: 1 emotional ? shoulder injury; 1 chest pain; 1 alcoholic; 1 vertigo and ? cardiac; 1 ? # shoulder.
A 52 year-old woman, suffering from depression, cried and screamed in the car all the way to hospital after falling and hurting her shoulder. There was no obvious injury but she was very, very emotional and I sensed much more at play than a little accident.
‘Why are you so angry with me?’ she screamed when I got her to hospital. The fact that I hadn’t been responsive to her when she was given entonox and then demanded a tissue in a scolding, almost childish way, may have given her the impression that I wasn’t pleased with her but I know I kept that to myself.
Chest pain in a 20 year-old builder next. Usually, young people don’t have serious cardiac issues so we normally get on scene to find that it’s a panic attack or something muscular (or an infection) but this lad was as pale as a ghost when I walked into the on-site nurse’s office.
His pain started when he drank water from a bottle after carrying a heavy load with the same arm – so possibly muscular. However, his ECG was anomalous; ST elevation (which could have been high take-off) and an irregular pulse. He was taken to hospital by ambulance to get further checked out.
A bus crashed into a taxi in front of me as I ran on call number three; a 29 year-old alcoholic who stated he was fitting and even specified the hospital he wanted to go to. The crash happened because of this call – the bus was trying to move out of my way and the taxi got hit. For a short time my path was blocked completely. This was Red call, even though I knew it wasn’t in reality and I was still duty bound to get to it within eight minutes. The bus had to reverse and unpin the taxi before I could move again.
When I got on scene I couldn’t find the patient. I searched the street and eventually saw him, still inside the call box, talking to the 999 call-taker. This was ludicrous. He wasn’t fitting and hadn’t been fitting. He was an alcoholic who was trying to get off the street and into the alcoholics’ favourite London hospital.
The guy had cost tax payers thousands - there was the cost of myself, the ambulance and crew, the repair for the damage to the bus and taxi, the lost earnings of the taxi driver and the lost earnings of the bus company; we are probably talking about two or three thousand pounds and that's before he gets to hospital. 'Treatment' will cost another few hundred quid and when he's ready he'll go and draw money from the State to support his drinking... after which he'll go through the same cycle again and again. It would be cheaper to give him an allowance of £500 a week, put him in the best house in London with his freinds and leave him to it.
An ambulance came for him almost as soon as I got him out of the call box and I was asked to assist with a lady who’d fallen down a few steps and hurt her knee. I was there, so why not? The wound was cleaned up and she was given a lift to work (just along the road). At least by doing that I felt I had been called to this location to do something useful.
People suffering Vertigo have a hard time of it – vomiting every time they move and not knowing when it will strike.
Outside a pub a 62 year-old man sat in chair, looking very pale and ill. His friend was with him and I found out very quickly that this ‘dizzy’ call was a case of Vertigo. He’d suffered for years and nobody had been able to find the cause, but his pulse was slow (low to mid 50’s) and I was concerned about that, so as soon as the crew arrived, an ECG was carried out and I gave him Metoclopramide to control the sickness.
His ECG was normal but slow. He was still pale and sweaty and every time I asked him how he felt he said the same thing – ‘not good’. This statement, coming from someone who doesn’t make 999 calls from phone boxes every time he wants to hide in hospital, is ominous and so, without too much fuss, he was taken to hospital.
His Vertigo may have been the secondary affect of a Vagal disturbance or he may have a proper cardiac problem. It was best to get it checked out while he had signs and symptoms that could be analysed.
A second fallen woman, this time a 40 year-old, who tripped over a raised pavement slab and landed on her shoulder, possibly breaking it at the Humeral head, was with police and MOPs when I arrived on scene.
She had a bunch of flowers with her and she gave me them when I got her to hospital, in a sling and attached to entonox, because they’d wither and die as she waited for an x-ray. I gave them to the reception staff – they rarely get the thanks they deserve, so it was a fair transfer I think, rather than pick one patient among many to receive them.
Be safe.
Stats: 1 emotional ? shoulder injury; 1 chest pain; 1 alcoholic; 1 vertigo and ? cardiac; 1 ? # shoulder.
A 52 year-old woman, suffering from depression, cried and screamed in the car all the way to hospital after falling and hurting her shoulder. There was no obvious injury but she was very, very emotional and I sensed much more at play than a little accident.
‘Why are you so angry with me?’ she screamed when I got her to hospital. The fact that I hadn’t been responsive to her when she was given entonox and then demanded a tissue in a scolding, almost childish way, may have given her the impression that I wasn’t pleased with her but I know I kept that to myself.
Chest pain in a 20 year-old builder next. Usually, young people don’t have serious cardiac issues so we normally get on scene to find that it’s a panic attack or something muscular (or an infection) but this lad was as pale as a ghost when I walked into the on-site nurse’s office.
His pain started when he drank water from a bottle after carrying a heavy load with the same arm – so possibly muscular. However, his ECG was anomalous; ST elevation (which could have been high take-off) and an irregular pulse. He was taken to hospital by ambulance to get further checked out.
A bus crashed into a taxi in front of me as I ran on call number three; a 29 year-old alcoholic who stated he was fitting and even specified the hospital he wanted to go to. The crash happened because of this call – the bus was trying to move out of my way and the taxi got hit. For a short time my path was blocked completely. This was Red call, even though I knew it wasn’t in reality and I was still duty bound to get to it within eight minutes. The bus had to reverse and unpin the taxi before I could move again.
When I got on scene I couldn’t find the patient. I searched the street and eventually saw him, still inside the call box, talking to the 999 call-taker. This was ludicrous. He wasn’t fitting and hadn’t been fitting. He was an alcoholic who was trying to get off the street and into the alcoholics’ favourite London hospital.
The guy had cost tax payers thousands - there was the cost of myself, the ambulance and crew, the repair for the damage to the bus and taxi, the lost earnings of the taxi driver and the lost earnings of the bus company; we are probably talking about two or three thousand pounds and that's before he gets to hospital. 'Treatment' will cost another few hundred quid and when he's ready he'll go and draw money from the State to support his drinking... after which he'll go through the same cycle again and again. It would be cheaper to give him an allowance of £500 a week, put him in the best house in London with his freinds and leave him to it.
An ambulance came for him almost as soon as I got him out of the call box and I was asked to assist with a lady who’d fallen down a few steps and hurt her knee. I was there, so why not? The wound was cleaned up and she was given a lift to work (just along the road). At least by doing that I felt I had been called to this location to do something useful.
People suffering Vertigo have a hard time of it – vomiting every time they move and not knowing when it will strike.
Outside a pub a 62 year-old man sat in chair, looking very pale and ill. His friend was with him and I found out very quickly that this ‘dizzy’ call was a case of Vertigo. He’d suffered for years and nobody had been able to find the cause, but his pulse was slow (low to mid 50’s) and I was concerned about that, so as soon as the crew arrived, an ECG was carried out and I gave him Metoclopramide to control the sickness.
His ECG was normal but slow. He was still pale and sweaty and every time I asked him how he felt he said the same thing – ‘not good’. This statement, coming from someone who doesn’t make 999 calls from phone boxes every time he wants to hide in hospital, is ominous and so, without too much fuss, he was taken to hospital.
His Vertigo may have been the secondary affect of a Vagal disturbance or he may have a proper cardiac problem. It was best to get it checked out while he had signs and symptoms that could be analysed.
A second fallen woman, this time a 40 year-old, who tripped over a raised pavement slab and landed on her shoulder, possibly breaking it at the Humeral head, was with police and MOPs when I arrived on scene.
She had a bunch of flowers with her and she gave me them when I got her to hospital, in a sling and attached to entonox, because they’d wither and die as she waited for an x-ray. I gave them to the reception staff – they rarely get the thanks they deserve, so it was a fair transfer I think, rather than pick one patient among many to receive them.
Be safe.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
