I wet my trousers today. I was washing the FRU and the brush/hose connection sprayed cold water all over me. I had to start my shift with a damp outlook and a sunny disposition. I tried to make it to my station so that I could dry off properly but, despite asking them nicely, my colleagues in EOC thought I might want to attend a chest pain in Chinatown first. So I arrived and penguin walked my way over to a patient with no chest pain and LOTS of alcohol in his system. Very funny.
By the time I got to my station I had already dried off naturally.
All the calls are RED because I am working on the CS(Charlie Sierra) callsign, as I always do at night. There are usually three of us running around Central and South London - all CS and all attending emergency calls only, though they don't always turn out to be emergencies.
I was off to a 5 month old male who had DIB and got cancelled before I had gathered any head of steam for the 4.5 mile trip (FRED is out there!). Then, on my way back from that jaunt, I saw a stupid drunk female stagger into the middle of the road, in front of a taxi which was just ahead of me, with a wooden pallet in her hands. She couldn't see where she was going and walked up the road waving the pallett ahead of herself. The taxi had to brake hard to avoid hitting her and I put on my lights so that she would clear off. It worked, she saw the blue flashing lights, obviously thought it was the police and took herself and her wooden friend to the pavement. She dumped her new acquaintance next to the 7/7 memorial plaque (nice touch) and scarpered - in as much as you can scarper when you are that drunk.
South of the River to meet a group of teenagers whose 20-odd year old mate was lying on the pavement, very drunk and suffering the effects of a dodgy ecstacy tablet. He bought it from a 'geezer in the street', allegedly. I was on my own and there had been no ambulance despatched yet. The guy was in and out of consciousness but didn't seem to be in trouble. When he was conscious, he was a pain in the neck and his cousin told me he could be violent, so I kept an arms length when he was shouting and vomiting. When he was unconscious, he was quite charming. A nicer bloke you couldn't hope to meet.
The police arrived and asked if I needed help. I told them I was okay and that the guy, and his mates, were no trouble. The police left me to it and I called Control for an update on the ambulance. I was in a busy street with these people and it wasn't the nicest part of town. Still no ambulance. Then Mr. E gets very annoying and becomes a lot more aggressive (verbally anyway), so I ask the FRU desk to send the police back. The guy kept getting up and falling straight back down again, mostly onto his head. He was big and heavy and there was no way I was getting under him to stop his dead weight, so he hit the pavement a couple of times. His cousin and his girlfriends dealt with him.
When the police got back and calmed the guy down (kinda), I asked again for an ETA on the ambulance but was told there were none to spare, so I made an executive decision. The guy was conscious enough to walk and, with the help of the police officers and his cousin, I had him bundled into the back of my car. It looked like a street kidnapping. I had the cousin and one police officer in the back with him and I drove on lights and with a police escort to the hospital. All too dramatic for one drunk idiot but needs must and I got there in 3 minutes. I had been on scene with an ever more aggressive and potentially violent man for over 30 minutes.
We got him into hospital, with additional help from one of my colleagues, and he went straight to a cubicle and slept. I think he may have cracked a rib when he hit the pavement on his third or fourth swan dive but I'm not sure.
Back at Leicester Square on stand-by and I get a call just around the corner to an assault. The man has had his nose punched and its bleeding a little, Nothing to be done really. He had allegedly been caught urinating in a restaurant doorway and the two members of staff who witnessed it took exception, as you would. They asked him to stop and he (allegedly) became abusive and violent, punching oone of them in the face and running off. I hope his little man was safely stowed away and that he had shaken it properly prior to that event.
Just before I went to that call, an American man staggered up to the car, leaned in the window (it was open) and said "Take me to my hotel". He obviously thought I was a taxi. Not only that but he must have thought I was the world's first psychic taxi service.
I went back over the bridge to treat a 2 year-old male suffering an acute severe asthma attack. He was breathing with some difficulty and had been like this for over two hours before the parents decided to call an ambulance. Children compensate extremely well and so they may look fine while they have such an attack but they will deteriorate rapidly and it will be too late. I have cared for a number of dying asthmatic children over the years. It is so easy to be lulled by them.
This child was still active and orientated but he was using his abdomen a lot more than normal to breathe. I gave him 2.5mg nebulised Salbutamol, followed by 0.25mg Ipatroprium. He responded after 10 minutes and his breathing became less of a struggle, although his very audible wheeze was still hanging around. I handed him over to the ambulance crew and he was virtually bouncing around enjoying himself with the female paramedic. Its good that the treatment worked so well but you really want your handover to reflect the need for such treatment and with him smiling and chatting now, It looked like I made the whole thing up!
I saw a BMW with the number plate 'Y IRAQ' rolling around the West End. I couldn't get a photo for you unfortunately because it is still illegal to use a camera whilst driving. I also saw a straw-haired and youngish man wandering around the Square telling the pigeons off at 4am. The pigeons looked concerned. They must have been because a whole gang of them gathered in a corner to talk about this guy. I know, I was there.
My last call came in at 6am and it was to a female with abdominal pain. I was behind the ambulance when we arrived on scene and went in to see if I was needed. The woman was in agony and it looked and sounded like a Liver-related problem. I couldn't give her morphine because her blood pressure was way too low, so she got fluids to sort that out. She couldn't use the entonox the crew offered because it was too painful to breathe in. The hospital was only 2 minutes away, so we took her there as quickly as possible.
Oh and the water sprinkling system in Leicester Square gardens is rubbish. It sprays water onto the paved area, making it slick and soaking passers-by. The potential for drowning an unsuspecting drunk lies therein but two young lads saw this as an opportunity to start their very own mini-Olympic event - landwater skating. Until they fell on their backsides.
Be safe.
Thursday, 12 April 2007
Happy birthday TPD
It has been exactly a year since I put finger to keyboard to start writing this weblog. Since then, I have written more than a hundred postings and received hundreds of comments, good and bad, about my views. Most of the time it has been a pleasure writing because I love to write and haven't had the time or inclination to do so for years; this online diary gave me the opportunity to get started.
Some of the time I agonised over whether it had been worth the aggravation I received at work. I was as close as I could possibly be to quitting the diary this year and there were days when I simply did not want to go to work because this blog was creating a division between me and a few of my colleagues - men and women who never identified themselves to me and still haven't. I lost sleep and became quite depressed. It affected my home life and impacted on others in my life quite profoundly for a short time.
Now I don't care about the few who simply don't like this idea or the way it is written, thousands of readers have had their say and have been positive about it, including many colleagues.
When I started writing, I had no idea that there were other ambulance-related blogs out there; I barely understood the idea behind blogging but I had wanted to record my professional life for years and this is where the diary comes from. It was always my intention to write a book about the job and since I had been recording my experiences in a reflective diary anyway, it made logical sense to translate that into a blog.
So, on with YEAR 2 and hopefully, plenty of things to see, try, do and say. Thanks for sticking with me for the past year.
Some of the time I agonised over whether it had been worth the aggravation I received at work. I was as close as I could possibly be to quitting the diary this year and there were days when I simply did not want to go to work because this blog was creating a division between me and a few of my colleagues - men and women who never identified themselves to me and still haven't. I lost sleep and became quite depressed. It affected my home life and impacted on others in my life quite profoundly for a short time.
Now I don't care about the few who simply don't like this idea or the way it is written, thousands of readers have had their say and have been positive about it, including many colleagues.
When I started writing, I had no idea that there were other ambulance-related blogs out there; I barely understood the idea behind blogging but I had wanted to record my professional life for years and this is where the diary comes from. It was always my intention to write a book about the job and since I had been recording my experiences in a reflective diary anyway, it made logical sense to translate that into a blog.
So, on with YEAR 2 and hopefully, plenty of things to see, try, do and say. Thanks for sticking with me for the past year.
Friday, 6 April 2007
The long Good Friday
Three emergencies, 1 green, 1 no trace, 1 assisted, 1 conveyed and 1 ambulance required.
A quiet day on the prairie for the first part of the shift. Londoners leave their fair city for greener fields far away whilst the option of sunshine and travel beckons, as they do during Easter time. The tourists move in by the double-decker coach load and English is replaced by German, Spanish, French and Italian. I get to drive down roads I can see the end of and my colleagues have the rare pleasure of moving their ambulances in straight lines for more than a hundred yards at a time. Its great.
My first call was to an underground station where, a mere two hours before, a woman had called 999 and requested an ambulance because she simply couldn't cope. She had complained that nobody took her seriously or cared about her problems. Ironic then that I should show up long after she had gone to assist her with her troubles. This was a green call and it had been a very busy night by all accounts (start of the serious drinking season - also called Summer), so there would have been no crews, or cars, available when she actually made the call.
I logged a no trace on that call and made my way to the station. Amazingly, I made it there and got settled with a cuppa...or two. Nothing happened except telly. Crews went out but not me, so I went on stand-by out of boredom. I put my sunnies on and left the confines of the car to go walkabout. The main reason I did this was that my right arm was in danger of burning in the sun, whilst my left arm paled by comparison. You know how it is when you are sitting in a car in the sunshine. The opposite detail applies if you are the driver of a continental vehicle :-)
A couple of tourists asked directions, as they do, and then a man approached me and told me that someone had collapsed in a doorway and was 'foaming at the mouth'. I called it in as a running call and went to the bottom of the road where I found another frequent flyer sitting in a doorway...foaming at the mouth. Well, he was dribbling thick saliva in a long stream from his mouth. He looked dazed.
I knew this man to be epileptic, asthmatic and have several other medical problems. I guessed the problem today was his epilepsy. He has absences and they become more frequent when he has been walking distances. Today, as it was sunny, he decided to go on a jolly long walk. I sat with him, did my obs., chatted and waited for an ambulance to convey him to hospital.
Then I went back to my little patch on Trafalgar Square. I find quiet days allow for more tolerance of frequent flyers, like my absent friend. I can spend more time talking to them and thinking about their perspectives without the pressure of worrying about getting on to the next call. As I pondered this a woman approached and informed me that she was on her way to a 'client' who had fallen. She was from the local Social Services and was answering an alarm call made by one of those around-the-neck buttons that elderly and vulnerable people wear. They certainly save lives (the button alarms, not the elderly or vulnerable).
I wasn't sure why she was telling me where she was going but I think she was fishing for a lift. By the time I worked it out (I might have had sun stroke) she was already gone, with the comment "Don't worry about me, you stay there" still floating in the air. I caught the sarcasm only after I got over the sun stroke. I sensed I was going to see her again.
The call for this fallen alarm patient came in ten minutes later. In retrospect, I should really have gone with the woman and called it in. I buzzed round to the address (which was incomplete, so I couldn't find it at first and had to wait for further information) and met up with the lady from the Square again, just as I had thought I would. On the floor, in the hallway of the flat was a woman with a head injury. She had fallen and hit her head on the skirting, causing a scalp laceration. They bleed a lot and this lady was on aspirin, so she bled a little more than normal. The wound itself was small and the bleeding was under control when I arrived.
The lady refused to go to hospital from the start. She had been drinking and, judging from the many bottles of alcohol on the premises, liked to drink a lot. This didn't help me at all. I was concerned about her and tried to persuade her to go to hospital. I tried for over an hour, during which time I took two full sets of obs. and watched her improve steadily until she was able, with a little help, to be moved to her chair in the front room.
There is nothing I can do beyond insistent persuasion in these circumstances but if a patient has capacity and says no, then no it is. She signed the 'get out of jail free' section of my PRF and I left her to wait for her daughter. I had spoken to her daughter on the phone and explained the situation and my concerns, so she had agreed to visit and try to persuade her mother to do the sensible thing.
Out into the sunshine and another call to a local walk-in centre for an 'unwell woman with a non-blanching rash'. This could mean meningitis. We don't get many of these and I have only given Benzylpenicillin twice so far, so I made tracks and got there in a few minutes. Fortunately for the patient, her rashes appeared to be urticarial and blanched for me when I pressed them. She didn't have a temperature, she wasn't photophobic and there was no neck stiffness or vomiting associated with her illness. In fact, as we spoke, she began to point out new rashes around her face and body which I just couldn't see. Maybe my eyes are going. Sun stroke again.
I took her to hospital and by the time we arrived I was quite convinced that this lady belonged to the group of people who come out into the world for attention when all else fails.
That was it. My day ended. It seemed long but that's because I had a good few hours of nothingness. You can be absolutely sure of one thing though - I got out of Dodge before the party people put on their party feet.
Be safe.
A quiet day on the prairie for the first part of the shift. Londoners leave their fair city for greener fields far away whilst the option of sunshine and travel beckons, as they do during Easter time. The tourists move in by the double-decker coach load and English is replaced by German, Spanish, French and Italian. I get to drive down roads I can see the end of and my colleagues have the rare pleasure of moving their ambulances in straight lines for more than a hundred yards at a time. Its great.
My first call was to an underground station where, a mere two hours before, a woman had called 999 and requested an ambulance because she simply couldn't cope. She had complained that nobody took her seriously or cared about her problems. Ironic then that I should show up long after she had gone to assist her with her troubles. This was a green call and it had been a very busy night by all accounts (start of the serious drinking season - also called Summer), so there would have been no crews, or cars, available when she actually made the call.
I logged a no trace on that call and made my way to the station. Amazingly, I made it there and got settled with a cuppa...or two. Nothing happened except telly. Crews went out but not me, so I went on stand-by out of boredom. I put my sunnies on and left the confines of the car to go walkabout. The main reason I did this was that my right arm was in danger of burning in the sun, whilst my left arm paled by comparison. You know how it is when you are sitting in a car in the sunshine. The opposite detail applies if you are the driver of a continental vehicle :-)
A couple of tourists asked directions, as they do, and then a man approached me and told me that someone had collapsed in a doorway and was 'foaming at the mouth'. I called it in as a running call and went to the bottom of the road where I found another frequent flyer sitting in a doorway...foaming at the mouth. Well, he was dribbling thick saliva in a long stream from his mouth. He looked dazed.
I knew this man to be epileptic, asthmatic and have several other medical problems. I guessed the problem today was his epilepsy. He has absences and they become more frequent when he has been walking distances. Today, as it was sunny, he decided to go on a jolly long walk. I sat with him, did my obs., chatted and waited for an ambulance to convey him to hospital.
Then I went back to my little patch on Trafalgar Square. I find quiet days allow for more tolerance of frequent flyers, like my absent friend. I can spend more time talking to them and thinking about their perspectives without the pressure of worrying about getting on to the next call. As I pondered this a woman approached and informed me that she was on her way to a 'client' who had fallen. She was from the local Social Services and was answering an alarm call made by one of those around-the-neck buttons that elderly and vulnerable people wear. They certainly save lives (the button alarms, not the elderly or vulnerable).
I wasn't sure why she was telling me where she was going but I think she was fishing for a lift. By the time I worked it out (I might have had sun stroke) she was already gone, with the comment "Don't worry about me, you stay there" still floating in the air. I caught the sarcasm only after I got over the sun stroke. I sensed I was going to see her again.
The call for this fallen alarm patient came in ten minutes later. In retrospect, I should really have gone with the woman and called it in. I buzzed round to the address (which was incomplete, so I couldn't find it at first and had to wait for further information) and met up with the lady from the Square again, just as I had thought I would. On the floor, in the hallway of the flat was a woman with a head injury. She had fallen and hit her head on the skirting, causing a scalp laceration. They bleed a lot and this lady was on aspirin, so she bled a little more than normal. The wound itself was small and the bleeding was under control when I arrived.
The lady refused to go to hospital from the start. She had been drinking and, judging from the many bottles of alcohol on the premises, liked to drink a lot. This didn't help me at all. I was concerned about her and tried to persuade her to go to hospital. I tried for over an hour, during which time I took two full sets of obs. and watched her improve steadily until she was able, with a little help, to be moved to her chair in the front room.
There is nothing I can do beyond insistent persuasion in these circumstances but if a patient has capacity and says no, then no it is. She signed the 'get out of jail free' section of my PRF and I left her to wait for her daughter. I had spoken to her daughter on the phone and explained the situation and my concerns, so she had agreed to visit and try to persuade her mother to do the sensible thing.
Out into the sunshine and another call to a local walk-in centre for an 'unwell woman with a non-blanching rash'. This could mean meningitis. We don't get many of these and I have only given Benzylpenicillin twice so far, so I made tracks and got there in a few minutes. Fortunately for the patient, her rashes appeared to be urticarial and blanched for me when I pressed them. She didn't have a temperature, she wasn't photophobic and there was no neck stiffness or vomiting associated with her illness. In fact, as we spoke, she began to point out new rashes around her face and body which I just couldn't see. Maybe my eyes are going. Sun stroke again.
I took her to hospital and by the time we arrived I was quite convinced that this lady belonged to the group of people who come out into the world for attention when all else fails.
That was it. My day ended. It seemed long but that's because I had a good few hours of nothingness. You can be absolutely sure of one thing though - I got out of Dodge before the party people put on their party feet.
Be safe.
Here we go
Nine emergencies, 2 green calls, 4 conveyed, 3 assisted, 1 refused, 1 no trace, 1 referred to a G.P. and 2 requiring an ambulance.
Sunny days in London at this time of year result in a combination of things: more people on the streets; more people getting more drunk; fewer ambulance staff because many are on leave and higher 999 call numbers because those who can't get out to enjoy the sunshine want some kind of attention...AND the number of buses on the roads seem to increase in direct proportion to the reduction of the number of ambulances available, so heavier traffic (mainly bendy buses - I don't like bendy buses) and slower response times.
Four miles South of the river for a female with sinusitis. The day was shaping up and it was only 7am. I gave advice, a friendly smile and a wave goodbye. Then on to a call, a mere 3.5 miles away (once I'm down there, I'm stuck) for a child with a sore penis. I arrived to find mum and child at home waiting for me. I carried out a cursory examination and decided, after a few questions, that he had either pushed something up there (boys do that during their penis exploration period) or he had a natural blockage of the Urethra. I took them both to hospital.
I got myself back up over the bridge and received a Red1 for a 'male collapsed, life status questionable'. This usually means one of two things:
1. The person is suspended.
2. The person is NOT suspended.
It's like science, isn't it? I drove to the call as if it was the former and discovered it was the latter. That's okay because I could now relax my bag-carrying arm and focus on the problem. The man had gone to work drunk and had collapsed suddenly. He had a history of hypertension, so I couldn't just dismiss this one. His blood pressure was a little high but the tests we use for stroke were negative. The ambulance crew arrived and I explained the problem - they agreed that alcohol seemed to be the prominent reason for his sudden collapse. His bosses were around and they seemed sympathetic but I also sensed embarrassment and possibly anger.
Five minutes on station for a cup of coffee and then I got a call to attend 'people being crushed' at the opening of a new Primark store in Oxford street. An Officer and motorcycle paramedic were already on scene but I was cancelled just before I got there. Apparently, only one person was slightly injured. I don't know what the fuss was all about frankly.
I didn't get back to the station to finish my cuppa though. I was asked to go on a 4.5 mile trip down South for a patient with cuts that were days old. I asked EOC if this was a necessary trip and they cancelled me - only to give me a 3.5 mile waste of time. They had no choice, neither did I but as soon as I saw the name of the patient, I knew who it was. I have written about this frequent flyer before and he calls us so often he has even had home visits from high ranking LAS Officers in a bid to persuade him to stop.
I got to his house in about 25 minutes (no blue lights) and he was sitting on the bottom step, as usual, waiting for me. I sat him in the car and chatted to him about calling us out for his minor problems - he had a mild eye infection this time. He agreed with everything I said but none of it was being absorbed. Just as I was about to take him to hospital (well, I couldn't leave him alone at home), his Community Matron appeared and asked if she could help. She explained that he had been having problems with his eye for days and that his doctor had already seen it and prescribed drops for it. She offered to guide me to the G.P surgery where she would take him to see his doctor. Apparently his G.P will see him anytime, at the drop of a hat. I found this incredible; I have to wait days to see my G.P!
As soon as I got back to my usual patch I received a call to attend a female with rib pain. She was at work and had bent down to pick something up when she felt something pop in her side and couldn't move after that without severe pain in her ribcage. She had fallen a few days ago, sustaining facial and rib injuries but her ribs had been cleared, without x-ray, by her doctor. Maybe now it was time to x-ray them. It took 5mg of morphine to move her to the car and another 3mg to keep her in it. No ambulances for me to call on, so this was a day for conveying as many as could safely be conveyed, simple as that.
I then rushed to a tube station for a female with abdo pain who had been waiting for an hour and a half. I was on a break and had just finished when this one came in. By the time she got an ambulance response she could have walked to the hospital and back twice. Three times if she was really fit and up for a mini-marathon. I can't believe people with minor problems (she was not in much pain) wait that long to be taxied to hospital. When I delivered her to the nurses, they gave her two paracetamol and a glass of water...oh, and a seat out front.
An emergency call to Sw1, where an elderly woman had collapsed and was now having DIB after walking up 7 flights of stairs in a theatre. After I had climbed them to get to her I was pretty breathless myself and I consider myself to be fit. There is no lift in this building and she had no choice but I could see that she was not recovering properly, her breathing had settled but she just didn't look too good. With the help of a member of staff, I slowly walked her back down the stairs and into the car, her friend in tow. She was fine during the trip to hospital but suddenly got worse when she was in the cubicle waiting to be seen. Her breathing deteriorated and she complained of pains in her legs (she was hyperventilating so the pains could have been pins and needles). I assisted the doctor in calming her down and he got on with her ECG and other tests. I got on with my very long day.
No sooner had I completed my paperwork than I got called to a train station to deal with a female having an epileptic fit. She had recovered and was a little post ictal when I arrived, so I did my obs. and asked her several times if she wanted to go to hospital (they rarely do). She refused and I let her and her family get on with their journey home, complete with a copy of my PRF and a little advice.
Then Mr. Colostomy struck. Control asked me to investigate an abandoned call that came from a phone box outside a pub I recognised. I knew the pub because this gentleman uses this location regularly. The call was an hour old now, so he was unlikely to be there but I went to check it out, I wouldn't dare presume in case I got it wrong. I was right though, he wasn't there and people had witnessed him around the phone box at the time of the call. I did an area search, mainly because I wanted to have a little chat with him but he was long gone - probably had his feet up in the waiting room of his favourite hospital. Today wasn't a good day for people like him, it really wasn't.
As I made my way back, looking for Mr. C. a van driver flagged me down and told me that someone had been knocked off his bike by a bus just around the corner. I called it in and got the incident sent to me as it was being phoned in via 999. I was on top of it in 2 minutes.
The bus had allegedly struck a man on his bicycle, knocking him off and dragging him a little way before stopping. The man was sitting up, chatting to witnesses who were now helping him. He had a nasty little cut on his forehead, which had bled profusely enough to worry people around him but otherwise he was completely unscathed; not shaken, not stirred. Lucky man.
The ambulance was on scene shortly after I covered his head wound and when the police got there, I left on yet another call. This one took me back up to the West End where a young man was 'fitting and coughing up blood'. There was already a car on scene when I got there, a young technician I know quite well, but Control had sent me too because of the nature of the call (paramedics are sent to every epileptic call now). I wasn't required though, he was recovering and despite my colleague's best advice, he refused to go to hospital. He should have gone because this was apparently his first fit.
Ten minutes later and another fit, this time in a crowded shop. The young girl was lying on the floor, dazed and confused. She started crying and didn't stop when she realised what was happening. Again, this was her first fit, if that's what it was. It sounded like a drop attack to me, she wasn't epileptic but was being investigated for a number of faints she had recently suffered. The poor thing wept inconsolably all the way into the ambulance and probably all the way to hospital. The crew were very gentle with her and I'm sure she knew she was in good hands.
My last call of the shift (13 calls today) was to a male who had collapsed and was unconscious in the street. I raced to the scene and saw nothing untoward. Well, there was a drunk sitting against a post. Could it be him? Yes, of course it was! The police turned up just as I was making my cautious approach to ask him if he had made the 999 call, so I let them do it instead.
The man denied making the call but his little mate, who swayed just as badly as he did, said that another alcoholic (from the same gang I guessed) had done it as a taunt while our main man was asleep. One of the officers gently pushed drunk #1 away from drunk #2, as they were getting a little close to one another and drunk #1 tried to pick a fight...with the cop! I couldn't believe it. Nobody, least of all the police officers, wanted the paperwork - we were all off at 7pm.
So drunk #1 relents and things calm down. Drunk #2 decides he doesn't like the way the police officers are talking to his mate (drunk #1) and now he wants a fight! I'm standing there thinking for Pete's sake lets all go home (but not to the same place obviously). My eyes are blurring now and for a completely different reason to drunks 1 and 2. I am dog tired.
Then peace breaks out, everyone smiles and the thing that was going to blow up never does. I get in the car, wave my police friends goodbye and set off back to base and home.
I have described the same day for all of my colleagues too incidentally.
Be safe.
Sunny days in London at this time of year result in a combination of things: more people on the streets; more people getting more drunk; fewer ambulance staff because many are on leave and higher 999 call numbers because those who can't get out to enjoy the sunshine want some kind of attention...AND the number of buses on the roads seem to increase in direct proportion to the reduction of the number of ambulances available, so heavier traffic (mainly bendy buses - I don't like bendy buses) and slower response times.
Four miles South of the river for a female with sinusitis. The day was shaping up and it was only 7am. I gave advice, a friendly smile and a wave goodbye. Then on to a call, a mere 3.5 miles away (once I'm down there, I'm stuck) for a child with a sore penis. I arrived to find mum and child at home waiting for me. I carried out a cursory examination and decided, after a few questions, that he had either pushed something up there (boys do that during their penis exploration period) or he had a natural blockage of the Urethra. I took them both to hospital.
I got myself back up over the bridge and received a Red1 for a 'male collapsed, life status questionable'. This usually means one of two things:
1. The person is suspended.
2. The person is NOT suspended.
It's like science, isn't it? I drove to the call as if it was the former and discovered it was the latter. That's okay because I could now relax my bag-carrying arm and focus on the problem. The man had gone to work drunk and had collapsed suddenly. He had a history of hypertension, so I couldn't just dismiss this one. His blood pressure was a little high but the tests we use for stroke were negative. The ambulance crew arrived and I explained the problem - they agreed that alcohol seemed to be the prominent reason for his sudden collapse. His bosses were around and they seemed sympathetic but I also sensed embarrassment and possibly anger.
Five minutes on station for a cup of coffee and then I got a call to attend 'people being crushed' at the opening of a new Primark store in Oxford street. An Officer and motorcycle paramedic were already on scene but I was cancelled just before I got there. Apparently, only one person was slightly injured. I don't know what the fuss was all about frankly.
I didn't get back to the station to finish my cuppa though. I was asked to go on a 4.5 mile trip down South for a patient with cuts that were days old. I asked EOC if this was a necessary trip and they cancelled me - only to give me a 3.5 mile waste of time. They had no choice, neither did I but as soon as I saw the name of the patient, I knew who it was. I have written about this frequent flyer before and he calls us so often he has even had home visits from high ranking LAS Officers in a bid to persuade him to stop.
I got to his house in about 25 minutes (no blue lights) and he was sitting on the bottom step, as usual, waiting for me. I sat him in the car and chatted to him about calling us out for his minor problems - he had a mild eye infection this time. He agreed with everything I said but none of it was being absorbed. Just as I was about to take him to hospital (well, I couldn't leave him alone at home), his Community Matron appeared and asked if she could help. She explained that he had been having problems with his eye for days and that his doctor had already seen it and prescribed drops for it. She offered to guide me to the G.P surgery where she would take him to see his doctor. Apparently his G.P will see him anytime, at the drop of a hat. I found this incredible; I have to wait days to see my G.P!
As soon as I got back to my usual patch I received a call to attend a female with rib pain. She was at work and had bent down to pick something up when she felt something pop in her side and couldn't move after that without severe pain in her ribcage. She had fallen a few days ago, sustaining facial and rib injuries but her ribs had been cleared, without x-ray, by her doctor. Maybe now it was time to x-ray them. It took 5mg of morphine to move her to the car and another 3mg to keep her in it. No ambulances for me to call on, so this was a day for conveying as many as could safely be conveyed, simple as that.
I then rushed to a tube station for a female with abdo pain who had been waiting for an hour and a half. I was on a break and had just finished when this one came in. By the time she got an ambulance response she could have walked to the hospital and back twice. Three times if she was really fit and up for a mini-marathon. I can't believe people with minor problems (she was not in much pain) wait that long to be taxied to hospital. When I delivered her to the nurses, they gave her two paracetamol and a glass of water...oh, and a seat out front.
An emergency call to Sw1, where an elderly woman had collapsed and was now having DIB after walking up 7 flights of stairs in a theatre. After I had climbed them to get to her I was pretty breathless myself and I consider myself to be fit. There is no lift in this building and she had no choice but I could see that she was not recovering properly, her breathing had settled but she just didn't look too good. With the help of a member of staff, I slowly walked her back down the stairs and into the car, her friend in tow. She was fine during the trip to hospital but suddenly got worse when she was in the cubicle waiting to be seen. Her breathing deteriorated and she complained of pains in her legs (she was hyperventilating so the pains could have been pins and needles). I assisted the doctor in calming her down and he got on with her ECG and other tests. I got on with my very long day.
No sooner had I completed my paperwork than I got called to a train station to deal with a female having an epileptic fit. She had recovered and was a little post ictal when I arrived, so I did my obs. and asked her several times if she wanted to go to hospital (they rarely do). She refused and I let her and her family get on with their journey home, complete with a copy of my PRF and a little advice.
Then Mr. Colostomy struck. Control asked me to investigate an abandoned call that came from a phone box outside a pub I recognised. I knew the pub because this gentleman uses this location regularly. The call was an hour old now, so he was unlikely to be there but I went to check it out, I wouldn't dare presume in case I got it wrong. I was right though, he wasn't there and people had witnessed him around the phone box at the time of the call. I did an area search, mainly because I wanted to have a little chat with him but he was long gone - probably had his feet up in the waiting room of his favourite hospital. Today wasn't a good day for people like him, it really wasn't.
As I made my way back, looking for Mr. C. a van driver flagged me down and told me that someone had been knocked off his bike by a bus just around the corner. I called it in and got the incident sent to me as it was being phoned in via 999. I was on top of it in 2 minutes.
The bus had allegedly struck a man on his bicycle, knocking him off and dragging him a little way before stopping. The man was sitting up, chatting to witnesses who were now helping him. He had a nasty little cut on his forehead, which had bled profusely enough to worry people around him but otherwise he was completely unscathed; not shaken, not stirred. Lucky man.
The ambulance was on scene shortly after I covered his head wound and when the police got there, I left on yet another call. This one took me back up to the West End where a young man was 'fitting and coughing up blood'. There was already a car on scene when I got there, a young technician I know quite well, but Control had sent me too because of the nature of the call (paramedics are sent to every epileptic call now). I wasn't required though, he was recovering and despite my colleague's best advice, he refused to go to hospital. He should have gone because this was apparently his first fit.
Ten minutes later and another fit, this time in a crowded shop. The young girl was lying on the floor, dazed and confused. She started crying and didn't stop when she realised what was happening. Again, this was her first fit, if that's what it was. It sounded like a drop attack to me, she wasn't epileptic but was being investigated for a number of faints she had recently suffered. The poor thing wept inconsolably all the way into the ambulance and probably all the way to hospital. The crew were very gentle with her and I'm sure she knew she was in good hands.
My last call of the shift (13 calls today) was to a male who had collapsed and was unconscious in the street. I raced to the scene and saw nothing untoward. Well, there was a drunk sitting against a post. Could it be him? Yes, of course it was! The police turned up just as I was making my cautious approach to ask him if he had made the 999 call, so I let them do it instead.
The man denied making the call but his little mate, who swayed just as badly as he did, said that another alcoholic (from the same gang I guessed) had done it as a taunt while our main man was asleep. One of the officers gently pushed drunk #1 away from drunk #2, as they were getting a little close to one another and drunk #1 tried to pick a fight...with the cop! I couldn't believe it. Nobody, least of all the police officers, wanted the paperwork - we were all off at 7pm.
So drunk #1 relents and things calm down. Drunk #2 decides he doesn't like the way the police officers are talking to his mate (drunk #1) and now he wants a fight! I'm standing there thinking for Pete's sake lets all go home (but not to the same place obviously). My eyes are blurring now and for a completely different reason to drunks 1 and 2. I am dog tired.
Then peace breaks out, everyone smiles and the thing that was going to blow up never does. I get in the car, wave my police friends goodbye and set off back to base and home.
I have described the same day for all of my colleagues too incidentally.
Be safe.
Wednesday, 4 April 2007
Acting under warrant
Four emergencies, 4 Green calls, 4 conveyed, 1 assisted, 1 treated at work, 1 not required and absolutely NO ambulances required.
My first shout of the day was to a female having an epileptic fit. I got on scene to find the flat being searched under a warrant by the police. I thought there may be less of a medical emergency and more of a distraction going on here. On numerous occasions I have attended calls for fits, faints, asthma attacks and chest pains only to find the abode being ransacked by the authorities and the suspect claiming one, some or all of these conditions in order to get out of the situation - not unlike the shoplifters I have mentioned before. It's human nature, I guess. when you are desperate and need to buy time, a little chest pain goes a long way. The theory is that we are too dumb, or scared to say they are faking it...there's the whole liability thing if it goes wrong. Unfortunately, we see the situation for what it is and often these people get nowhere. We are not dumb and some of us will tell them they are faking.
This young girl had two witnessed events, described as blackouts. They could have been seizures but she was more alert than me when I walked into the flat. You generally need a little more than five minutes to recover from an epileptic fit. She could have been genuine, so I gave her the works, in terms of obs. and she checked out just fine. I explained to her that it sounded like she may just have passed out. She agreed. It was her boyfriend who was being arrested, after all, not her.
I offered her the opportunity of going to hospital and she declined, twice. That wasn't the game plan anyway, I was there as a distraction. In fact, when I first got on scene and entered the flat, the police had to guide me past another little distraction left in the hallway on a piece of newspaper - human excrement.
Then I was sent 3.5 miles over the River (you know how I feel about that) to attend a 'female with headache'. It was given a Green2 category, which is fine but its a long way to drive (no blue lights for this one) for someone who could have taken a cab. Sorry to be so harsh but I get headaches, on the odd occasion they have been blinding and made me physically sick but I certainly DO NOT call the ambulance service. I do what you do, I cope.
I arrived on scene but could not identify the house. Then a woman waved out of the window. No, she didn't wave, she summoned me to stop and wait. I felt like a mini-cab driver. So I stopped and began to get my bags out of the car. Before I got to the door, the woman hustled the patient, who was holding her hand against her forehead, out of the house. Usually I get a chance to introduce myself and do some obs. on scene. Not this time.
I carried out my obs. in the car and took some details and discovered that she had...a headache. A bad headache. She was young and she had no significant medical problems. Her obs. were perfectly normal and she had no rash, photophobia or stiff neck. She had not been in contact with anyone who was ill and she had not been intimate with birds or foul. She had not been abroad recently and she was taking no medicines or drugs. She simply had a headache. I took her to hospital. They won't find a tumour and they won't even bother trying. She will get better.
I tried to get back across the river and made it as far as SE1 when I got call to a 'bus driver, assaulted, punched in head'. I got on scene in 3 minutes and couldn't find the bus. Well, its not an obvious object in a road full of buses. I knew the police were coming, so as soon as I saw them I tagged along and they led me to the correct vehicle. I had to pull a u-turn to achieve this.
The bus driver was unhurt and didn't want to go to hospital. He was angry about being hit like that and I don't blame him. The man can't even do his job without risk to himself. He had been hit with an iron bar across the head in the past - just for saying "fares please". It's not right.
Ironically, the bus was parked up directly in front of the local police station, yet neither the driver nor his boss had thought of nipping in and speaking to an officer on the front desk. They had called the police instead. Then they had waited for about 6 minutes until they (and I) arrived! Just as well he wasn't badly hurt.
I went to a train station to help a man with learning difficulties get home. He was a little lost and confused after wandering away from his home and he had got his head trapped in the doors of a train, so the ambulance was called (British Transport Police worry about these things). He wasn't really hurt and I established that fairly quickly, but he needed the encouragement, so I told him he was fine and I had the BTP escort him to a bus bound for home. Last time I saw him he was standing at the bus stop with the two officers next to him, waiting for appropriate transportation.
Then a 2-for-1. I attended an elderly lady who had fallen and broken her wrist. I sat her in the car and drove to hospital, as is my routine, but on the way I came across a collapsed female with police in attendance. I felt I couldn't justify driving past, so I asked my patient if she was okay with me stopping and checking this other lady and she nodded her confirmation. I got out and approached the little gathering. The lady on the ground was conscious but had a few minor cuts. The police told me they had been waiting for an ambulance but it had been diverted to a more serious call. I checked the patient out, took a short history and still wasn't sure what was going on. She seemed very confused but not post ictal. She denied being epileptic anyway. She had just collapsed for no reason, according to witnesses. The police thought she might be a bit dodgy and they wanted to check her out but time was pressing and I had a patient in the car with a painful wrist. I thought about it and decided to bundle the new patient into the car too. I took them both to hospital (with a police escort) and got them both assessed at the same time. They were quite happy with that arrangement and the second patient didn't become a werewolf.
When I eventually got on stand-by in Trafalgar Square I heard a mother chastise her young son for chasing the pigeons around.
"Benjamin, get over here! You do NOT go running after birds", she shouted.
"Not 'til you are older anyway", I thought to myself wickedly.
A call to a diabetic going hypo had me summoning up all the skills and knowledge I needed for this particular emergency - chocolate and coke. He was not alert and he was sweating profusely. His own BM meter read 5.6 but I knew that could not be right. Mine said 2.3 - that was more likely. I got a member of staff in his office to gather the necessary materials for appropriate treatment and I fed and watered him for five minutes. I had one chocolate myself too, for moral support.
He recovered very quickly and finished his treatment off with a salad roll. By the time I left him his BM read 6.2 - much better. His meter would have been skewed because his fingers had not been cleaned prior to the first measurement so any sugar residue would have given a falsely high reading. No ambulance and no hospital needed. He's fine and I got a free chocolate.
My last job dragged me South again, this time for a ? fractured ankle that looked more like a sprain to me. The young man had been playing football and had fallen awkwardly, twisting his ankle inward. That'll do it. He heard it crunch and saw the joint go 'wobbly'. It was swollen and bruised. Sprained, possibly fractured.
I splinted it, hopped him to the car, drove him to hospital (very busy now) and chatted along the way, as I do - just tell me to shut up if I bore you. I arrived, unsplinted him, wheel-chaired him to A&E and left him to ponder his footballing future. Nice guy actually.
Be safe.
My first shout of the day was to a female having an epileptic fit. I got on scene to find the flat being searched under a warrant by the police. I thought there may be less of a medical emergency and more of a distraction going on here. On numerous occasions I have attended calls for fits, faints, asthma attacks and chest pains only to find the abode being ransacked by the authorities and the suspect claiming one, some or all of these conditions in order to get out of the situation - not unlike the shoplifters I have mentioned before. It's human nature, I guess. when you are desperate and need to buy time, a little chest pain goes a long way. The theory is that we are too dumb, or scared to say they are faking it...there's the whole liability thing if it goes wrong. Unfortunately, we see the situation for what it is and often these people get nowhere. We are not dumb and some of us will tell them they are faking.
This young girl had two witnessed events, described as blackouts. They could have been seizures but she was more alert than me when I walked into the flat. You generally need a little more than five minutes to recover from an epileptic fit. She could have been genuine, so I gave her the works, in terms of obs. and she checked out just fine. I explained to her that it sounded like she may just have passed out. She agreed. It was her boyfriend who was being arrested, after all, not her.
I offered her the opportunity of going to hospital and she declined, twice. That wasn't the game plan anyway, I was there as a distraction. In fact, when I first got on scene and entered the flat, the police had to guide me past another little distraction left in the hallway on a piece of newspaper - human excrement.
Then I was sent 3.5 miles over the River (you know how I feel about that) to attend a 'female with headache'. It was given a Green2 category, which is fine but its a long way to drive (no blue lights for this one) for someone who could have taken a cab. Sorry to be so harsh but I get headaches, on the odd occasion they have been blinding and made me physically sick but I certainly DO NOT call the ambulance service. I do what you do, I cope.
I arrived on scene but could not identify the house. Then a woman waved out of the window. No, she didn't wave, she summoned me to stop and wait. I felt like a mini-cab driver. So I stopped and began to get my bags out of the car. Before I got to the door, the woman hustled the patient, who was holding her hand against her forehead, out of the house. Usually I get a chance to introduce myself and do some obs. on scene. Not this time.
I carried out my obs. in the car and took some details and discovered that she had...a headache. A bad headache. She was young and she had no significant medical problems. Her obs. were perfectly normal and she had no rash, photophobia or stiff neck. She had not been in contact with anyone who was ill and she had not been intimate with birds or foul. She had not been abroad recently and she was taking no medicines or drugs. She simply had a headache. I took her to hospital. They won't find a tumour and they won't even bother trying. She will get better.
I tried to get back across the river and made it as far as SE1 when I got call to a 'bus driver, assaulted, punched in head'. I got on scene in 3 minutes and couldn't find the bus. Well, its not an obvious object in a road full of buses. I knew the police were coming, so as soon as I saw them I tagged along and they led me to the correct vehicle. I had to pull a u-turn to achieve this.
The bus driver was unhurt and didn't want to go to hospital. He was angry about being hit like that and I don't blame him. The man can't even do his job without risk to himself. He had been hit with an iron bar across the head in the past - just for saying "fares please". It's not right.
Ironically, the bus was parked up directly in front of the local police station, yet neither the driver nor his boss had thought of nipping in and speaking to an officer on the front desk. They had called the police instead. Then they had waited for about 6 minutes until they (and I) arrived! Just as well he wasn't badly hurt.
I went to a train station to help a man with learning difficulties get home. He was a little lost and confused after wandering away from his home and he had got his head trapped in the doors of a train, so the ambulance was called (British Transport Police worry about these things). He wasn't really hurt and I established that fairly quickly, but he needed the encouragement, so I told him he was fine and I had the BTP escort him to a bus bound for home. Last time I saw him he was standing at the bus stop with the two officers next to him, waiting for appropriate transportation.
Then a 2-for-1. I attended an elderly lady who had fallen and broken her wrist. I sat her in the car and drove to hospital, as is my routine, but on the way I came across a collapsed female with police in attendance. I felt I couldn't justify driving past, so I asked my patient if she was okay with me stopping and checking this other lady and she nodded her confirmation. I got out and approached the little gathering. The lady on the ground was conscious but had a few minor cuts. The police told me they had been waiting for an ambulance but it had been diverted to a more serious call. I checked the patient out, took a short history and still wasn't sure what was going on. She seemed very confused but not post ictal. She denied being epileptic anyway. She had just collapsed for no reason, according to witnesses. The police thought she might be a bit dodgy and they wanted to check her out but time was pressing and I had a patient in the car with a painful wrist. I thought about it and decided to bundle the new patient into the car too. I took them both to hospital (with a police escort) and got them both assessed at the same time. They were quite happy with that arrangement and the second patient didn't become a werewolf.
When I eventually got on stand-by in Trafalgar Square I heard a mother chastise her young son for chasing the pigeons around.
"Benjamin, get over here! You do NOT go running after birds", she shouted.
"Not 'til you are older anyway", I thought to myself wickedly.
A call to a diabetic going hypo had me summoning up all the skills and knowledge I needed for this particular emergency - chocolate and coke. He was not alert and he was sweating profusely. His own BM meter read 5.6 but I knew that could not be right. Mine said 2.3 - that was more likely. I got a member of staff in his office to gather the necessary materials for appropriate treatment and I fed and watered him for five minutes. I had one chocolate myself too, for moral support.
He recovered very quickly and finished his treatment off with a salad roll. By the time I left him his BM read 6.2 - much better. His meter would have been skewed because his fingers had not been cleaned prior to the first measurement so any sugar residue would have given a falsely high reading. No ambulance and no hospital needed. He's fine and I got a free chocolate.
My last job dragged me South again, this time for a ? fractured ankle that looked more like a sprain to me. The young man had been playing football and had fallen awkwardly, twisting his ankle inward. That'll do it. He heard it crunch and saw the joint go 'wobbly'. It was swollen and bruised. Sprained, possibly fractured.
I splinted it, hopped him to the car, drove him to hospital (very busy now) and chatted along the way, as I do - just tell me to shut up if I bore you. I arrived, unsplinted him, wheel-chaired him to A&E and left him to ponder his footballing future. Nice guy actually.
Be safe.
Tuesday, 3 April 2007
New poll
I thought we would take this matter to a vote and meet it head on. I view everyone's comments, whether published or not, as a valid point of view. I may be wrong in deciding what you do and do not want to see written here, so this poll offers everyone, fan or not, a chance to have their say. You can only vote once from an IP address but this does not rule out the possibility of abuse. However, I would like to see what you think about what is obviously an issue for some people.
I'll keep it open til the end of April.
I'll keep it open til the end of April.
April fool
Seven emergency calls, 1 left at scene, 1 hoax, 3 conveyed, 2 needed an ambulance.
A suspended 0ctogenarian started the day off. It came in as a 'faint, not breathing at all' strangely enough, I guess that's the kind of confusion that takes over when you are elderly and a loved one has dropped to the floor suddenly. Personally, I'd rather go that way then any other.
I worked on him with a crew and another FRU responder and, I have to say, it was fruitless from the start. His heart had given up and there was no way on Earth it was going to pump again. This was a hard working man who had probably lived a full life. I don't think he would have appreciated any extra time if he had been given it - the quality of such a life is usually very poor. Nevertheless we spent half an hour trying our best and achieving nothing. The bravest person in the room was his sibling who had to bear the sights and sounds of our efforts, only to be told that there was nothing else we could do. We stopped when inevitability became too obvious to continue. We left him on a sofa, wrapped in a blanket with his eyes closed. He looked asleep and that's a nice way to leave it, I think.
The April fool for the day was a hoax call to a suicidal female. I arrived with the police and we quickly unravelled the facts on scene. First of all the staff at the hostel had no idea what we were talking about, secondly it transpired that the call had originated outside of London and finally, it was a men's hostel. No females allowed. Another few hundred quid of your hard earned taxes up in high jinks. Happy days.
A severe asthma attack had me driving at speed in order to administer the necessary care but I arrived to discover an Italian lady who was having a mild panic attack. She had a chest infection and that was giving her a little trouble breathing but it wasn't asthma and it wasn't severe and the call should have been made to her G.P.
I drove the patient's daughter and grand-daughter to the hospital with the ambulance in convoy and we chatted. We discussed, among other things, the reason why there were so many Italians in Scotland. During WWII, the country had been used to incarcerate Italian POW's and those who were considered a threat to National security. When they were released a lot of them set up businesses and became prominent and well respected members of the Scottish community. Our famous ice cream (fried or not) is all down to them. We don't grind any axes with them and I have an affinity for the Italian people as a result of this integration.
She found it interesting anyway.
Later on I went to the aid of an elderly woman who had fallen in a public place and sustained facial injuries. When I arrived on scene the security man had moved her, despite being told not to by Control and a few bystanders. He also took photographs of her injuries, which were relatively minor. She had tripped over a paving slab so I'm guessing, since this was a private walkway (even though a public place), he was getting evidence for any claim that might be made. I presume he was protecting his employer against the possibility of an exaggerated claim but I could be wrong - tell me if you know better.
A female with abdominal pain kept me busy after that. She didn't need (or want) pain relief and she was able to walk to the car but it took me almost 20 minutes to persuade her to move at all. There were certain positions she could not adopt without increasing the pain, luckily standing wasn't one of them.
I saw those mad roller skater types again. There must be a club or something. I saw 20-30 of them wheeling down the road as I past. Some of them were dressed up and one of them was a bunny girl, real or imagined. Obviously, for the sake of driver safety I had to avert my eyes.
Towards the end of the shift I got a call to a young girl with chest pains. She had no cardiac history and no other illnesses but she was a very nervous type, so it all comes down to anxiety, although from what, I do not know. She went to hospital anyway because you can never tell for sure. She was accompanied by her friend and was smiling and cheerful enough when we got to our destination. A quick ECG later and she was sitting out front in reception. Told you.
Just as I was relaxing and coming out of work mode, I was asked to attend another young girl. This time it was an anaphylactic reaction (wrongly termed 'anaphylactic shock'). By the time I arrived, she had injected her own Adrenaline using her Epipen and had fully recovered. I had to persuade her to go to hospital with the crew who arrived soon after me because she was determined not to get checked out as she had a gig to go to later. She had another Epipen and was happy to take the risk and use that if something went awry but this was her 41st attack (not that day obviously) and I spent a good deal of time and energy explaining to her that she wasn't necessarily safe. At her age, anything going wrong may have fallen our our heads (the LAS) and so it was prudent, I think, to get her checked out. She probably found a back way out of the hospital and went to the gig anyway.
I was sitting in the car completing my paperwork and hoping that this would be the end of the shift for me when I saw a man rolling about on his mobility scooter looking at different views of the hospital with interest. I had to smile because I noticed he had his dog, a little Jack Russell, sitting at his feet on the vehicle, following his master's gaze at the whatever took his fancy. Those little scotters must be turbocharged these days. He was doing a fair pelt and his dog's face was pulling back with the force of the wind! Funny things - dogs with wind-blown faces.
Be safe.
A suspended 0ctogenarian started the day off. It came in as a 'faint, not breathing at all' strangely enough, I guess that's the kind of confusion that takes over when you are elderly and a loved one has dropped to the floor suddenly. Personally, I'd rather go that way then any other.
I worked on him with a crew and another FRU responder and, I have to say, it was fruitless from the start. His heart had given up and there was no way on Earth it was going to pump again. This was a hard working man who had probably lived a full life. I don't think he would have appreciated any extra time if he had been given it - the quality of such a life is usually very poor. Nevertheless we spent half an hour trying our best and achieving nothing. The bravest person in the room was his sibling who had to bear the sights and sounds of our efforts, only to be told that there was nothing else we could do. We stopped when inevitability became too obvious to continue. We left him on a sofa, wrapped in a blanket with his eyes closed. He looked asleep and that's a nice way to leave it, I think.
The April fool for the day was a hoax call to a suicidal female. I arrived with the police and we quickly unravelled the facts on scene. First of all the staff at the hostel had no idea what we were talking about, secondly it transpired that the call had originated outside of London and finally, it was a men's hostel. No females allowed. Another few hundred quid of your hard earned taxes up in high jinks. Happy days.
A severe asthma attack had me driving at speed in order to administer the necessary care but I arrived to discover an Italian lady who was having a mild panic attack. She had a chest infection and that was giving her a little trouble breathing but it wasn't asthma and it wasn't severe and the call should have been made to her G.P.
I drove the patient's daughter and grand-daughter to the hospital with the ambulance in convoy and we chatted. We discussed, among other things, the reason why there were so many Italians in Scotland. During WWII, the country had been used to incarcerate Italian POW's and those who were considered a threat to National security. When they were released a lot of them set up businesses and became prominent and well respected members of the Scottish community. Our famous ice cream (fried or not) is all down to them. We don't grind any axes with them and I have an affinity for the Italian people as a result of this integration.
She found it interesting anyway.
Later on I went to the aid of an elderly woman who had fallen in a public place and sustained facial injuries. When I arrived on scene the security man had moved her, despite being told not to by Control and a few bystanders. He also took photographs of her injuries, which were relatively minor. She had tripped over a paving slab so I'm guessing, since this was a private walkway (even though a public place), he was getting evidence for any claim that might be made. I presume he was protecting his employer against the possibility of an exaggerated claim but I could be wrong - tell me if you know better.
A female with abdominal pain kept me busy after that. She didn't need (or want) pain relief and she was able to walk to the car but it took me almost 20 minutes to persuade her to move at all. There were certain positions she could not adopt without increasing the pain, luckily standing wasn't one of them.
I saw those mad roller skater types again. There must be a club or something. I saw 20-30 of them wheeling down the road as I past. Some of them were dressed up and one of them was a bunny girl, real or imagined. Obviously, for the sake of driver safety I had to avert my eyes.
Towards the end of the shift I got a call to a young girl with chest pains. She had no cardiac history and no other illnesses but she was a very nervous type, so it all comes down to anxiety, although from what, I do not know. She went to hospital anyway because you can never tell for sure. She was accompanied by her friend and was smiling and cheerful enough when we got to our destination. A quick ECG later and she was sitting out front in reception. Told you.
Just as I was relaxing and coming out of work mode, I was asked to attend another young girl. This time it was an anaphylactic reaction (wrongly termed 'anaphylactic shock'). By the time I arrived, she had injected her own Adrenaline using her Epipen and had fully recovered. I had to persuade her to go to hospital with the crew who arrived soon after me because she was determined not to get checked out as she had a gig to go to later. She had another Epipen and was happy to take the risk and use that if something went awry but this was her 41st attack (not that day obviously) and I spent a good deal of time and energy explaining to her that she wasn't necessarily safe. At her age, anything going wrong may have fallen our our heads (the LAS) and so it was prudent, I think, to get her checked out. She probably found a back way out of the hospital and went to the gig anyway.
I was sitting in the car completing my paperwork and hoping that this would be the end of the shift for me when I saw a man rolling about on his mobility scooter looking at different views of the hospital with interest. I had to smile because I noticed he had his dog, a little Jack Russell, sitting at his feet on the vehicle, following his master's gaze at the whatever took his fancy. Those little scotters must be turbocharged these days. He was doing a fair pelt and his dog's face was pulling back with the force of the wind! Funny things - dogs with wind-blown faces.
Be safe.
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