Physical abuse

If you're hoping for a quick shock at one of London's airports, tough. The defib case is empty and someone has written 'HELP' on the glass. This comment originally stated Luton Airport but this was an error and I apologise to Luton for this misinformed misprint!

Early shift: Four calls; two assisted-only, two by ambulance.

Stats: 1 emotional (? Sexual assault); 1 chest pain; 1 drug-related resulting in an assault on me; 1 drunk


Sometimes you hear a story and it doesn’t seem right. My first call of the morning was for an 18 year-old girl who had collapsed at a tube station. MOPs were tending to her when I arrived and she was feigning unconsciousness. I sent the MOPs away with a word of thanks and set about proving to her that I knew she wasn’t out cold – I told her I knew she was consious and she opened her eyes.

She’d been wandering around since her friends dumped her in the early hours of this morning because she was too drunk to handle, apparently. Now, she’s here and she has no money – her coat and bag are gone and she has a vague memory of being with someone but she doesn’t know who. Neither does she know how she got the fresh bruises on her arms. They looked like pressure marks caused by excessive gripping, like when someone grabs you hard.

She’s young, pretty and very vulnerable and I suspect there’s more to her night-time history than she’s willing or able to say, so I request the police, preferably female officers, to attend and chat to her as she’s taken to the ambulance by the crew.

She’s taken something, I’m sure of that – or at least she’s been given something or it’s been slipped into her drink because her behaviour is strange and questionable.

The police arrive (both male) and they spend a long time with her in the ambulance. I don’t know what they found out because I was gone after waiting too long to discover the outcome of their interview.


‘I’m fed up with this now’, said my 96 year-old chest pain patient. She’d been getting up in the night repeatedly for tightness in her chest and numbness in her left arm but had ignored it until she could bear it no longer. A stoical woman but now she needed to go to hospital. Her ECG showed ST elevation and I couldn’t see any P waves at all. She was ‘blued’ in straight away to a specialist cardiac centre.


The man who attacked me was a 25 year-old, six foot druggy who had settled down on a doorway in Soho. Nobody likes that, especially if you are the doorman in charge of the doorway. I could see him watching me from behind the glass as I prodded, shouted and generally harassed the man awake, warning him that he had to move on. Usually my drunken, drugged-up patients are slow and easy to predict but this guy was faster than I anticipated. He took offence to me and rose up, lashing out with his fists. He caught me twice with heavy punches which luckily didn’t penetrate my stab vest, so the impact was softened a little. I grabbed his arms before he could put any more effort or skill into his attempts at knocking me out and tried to calm him so that I could retreat to the car and call Control for police back-up.

The cops arrived as I watched him slump back into his stupor in the doorway. Meanwhile the doorman was watching too – that’s pretty much all he did.

The man verbally abused the police officers as they tried to reason with him and it took almost half an hour from start to finish before he moved on under threat of arrest. He was stoned by his own admission (on skunk) and dangerous but he was out of sight within a few seconds as he disappeared around a corner.

This man had a chip on his shoulder about the police and about ambulance personnel. ‘I’ve had problems with members of your community too’, he told me as the police stood over him. Well, I wondered why.


A life status questionable call ended my shift. The ‘dead man’ was sitting up in the street smoking a cigarette and drinking booze when the MRU got on scene shortly before I did. An ambulance also pulled up soon after and it became a bit of a joke as we chatted to him about not sleeping in such a public place. The 999 caller even came up to speak to us, explaining that she’d seen him lying in his sleeping bag, not moving and had been so worried that her conscious wouldn’t allow her to ignore it. Fair enough.

Be safe.

Hotels

I'm not sure I'd want to get into the back of this private taxi!

Early shift: Nine calls; all by ambulance.

Stats: 2 DIB; 2 not alert; 2 head injury; 1 faint; 1 allergy; 1 not required

South London and the world’s ugliest tower block for my first patient, an 80 year-old woman with DIB. She’s on the 9th floor (of course) and I find myself looking up at the grey, shabby 70’s council architecture thinking that the lift will probably not be working, if indeed there was a lift.

The lady is struggling to breathe and has swollen ankles and high blood pressure – she’s suffering from congestive heart failure and needs to go to hospital. The crew arrive a short while after me and wheel her away. I get the hell out of the area before I am forced to spend the entire shift there.


Another DIB and I’m treating a 46 year-old female who’s short of breath and feeling faint. She works in the hotel that I was sent to and I’m in the bowels of it in the small staff area set aside for the domestic workers (low paid, probably illegal). Again her ankles are swelling and she tells me she has a history of this but it has yet to be diagnosed.

The crew arrive after having been harassed by the top-hat wearing doorman who insisted they couldn’t park in the driveway because it was obstructing the free flow of rich guests who needed to get as close as possible to the main entrance in their Jaguars and Bentleys, allowing him to do his job of opening their doors for them. It was ridiculous because he’d tried the same thing with me and I’d courteously declined to move or give the keys to the car up so that one of his lackeys could move it. We get the same treatment from other drivers, bus drivers and sometimes MOPs when they believe us to be an irritating obstruction. They wouldn’t dream of behaving like that if we were the police...or their mothers were dying.


A semi-conscious 45 year-old woman in another very posh hotel after that. Again, a member of staff was unwell and had fainted but this time I wasn’t harried about my parking and neither was the crew. In fact, they were all thoroughly nice.

The patient should have been taking medicine for high blood pressure but she’d been ignoring it and the result was…high blood pressure, leading to a collapse. The fact that she’d been worrying about her son who’d apparently disappeared on an exam day may have added to her stress.


Ninety five is a ripe old age to have good health and my next patient had no medical history except for slightly high blood pressure. She’d fainted in a restaurant and a doctor from a local surgery popped in to take care of her and give a hand-over when I arrived. It was her birthday today and she was celebrating with friends; perhaps she over-did it a bit. She’d had a glass or two of wine and a meal – then she collapsed. She was recovering well when I got there and all she was worrying about was that she’d spoiled the day for everyone. I was worried about her BP, which was quite low and her BM, which was quite high, so off she went to hospital with a sympathetic crew.


A regular caller – the same guy I refer to in my book; the one who attacked me with a bottle – is out of prison and back on the streets, calling ambulances regularly…daily, in fact. My screen says that a 50 year-old male has a head injury and a ‘big lump on his stomach’ - and given the area, it could only be him. This time, he’s drunk and has a head injury after falling on his face. Worried MOPs have dialled 999 and I’m with a crew as he staggers around, smiling, waving and staining everything he touches with blood.

‘I know you!’ he spits as he points at me.

‘Yes, you do’, I agree with a professional smile (I’m in a good mood).

This time there’s no menace, no bottle and no intent to do me harm. This time, he thinks I’m his best friend.

A CRU and an ambulance are already on scene and such is his infamy that they all know him. He’ll survive and be back again tomorrow…and the next day.


A ‘not alert’ 50 year-old got two minutes of my time because the crew was on scene almost behind me. She explained her near-faint to them as I left.


Calls like this are put in newspapers. A 30 year-old woman is lying in the ‘distress position’ on a treatment bed in a hair salon. She’s called an ambulance because she’s reacting to the peroxide that’s been put in her hair. She looks shiny and blonde as a result, which is nice but she’s also got a red and swollen face, so now she looks like a glamorous puffer fish and she’s not happy. In fact, she’s crying about it because she knew it would happen and had taken a couple of antihistamines in preparation for it, hoping that they would prevent the inevitable. Unfortunately, she thinks she’s overdosed and this is the reason she’s dialled 999. I explained that she hadn’t and that she’s reacting, just as she knew she would, to the chemical in her hair. I suggested she try another colour in future and I was smiling when I said it. She smiled back but it was difficult to tell if she meant it or not. Otherwise, her airway was absolutely fine.


I request a cancellation for a faint a few miles away because I’ve been approached by a man who wants me to attend to a drunk with a head injury just a few yards from where I am parked. I can’t refuse and the ambulance is still a distance away, so I go to his aid.

A police officer is propping up a man who is a worse-for-wear professional. He fell onto the ground in Leicester Square and scared the tourists. Otherwise he is harmless and quite funny to chat to – the cop’s been with him a while and they are best mates now. His head injury needs treating, so as soon as the crew arrive he’s taken to hospital with much hilarity in the back of the ambulance - it's nice to have a patient with a sense of humour.


I end the shift at my main station when I’m called out for a 36 year-old female who’s fitting in a prison van which is now parked up on a busy road. This sort of thing always makes the police nervous – they don’t want prisoners escaping from those mobile lock-ups on pretence of illness, so when I arrive there are more than a few cops around.

I’m not needed though; she’s not fitting and the crew are dealing with her. She has abdo pain and threw herself on the floor of her cell in an attempt to get the message across to the guards. They thought she was fitting because throwing yourself to the floor is similar, right?

Anyway, all the crew want from me is a blanket because they have none. I give them two and poodle off into the sunset.

Be safe.

Life and limb

Five emergency calls; all taken by ambulance, four of them on blue lights.


A proper working shift this one. Almost all of the calls were genuine ambulance emergencies, deserving of ‘category A’ status.


First off, a 72 year-old woman with chest pain, headache and a high BP (which was taken by a family member). She had a normal BP when I checked it but there seemed to be an element of paranoia because she wanted it checked every few minutes and worried about it. This is the problem with home diagnostics; people begin to believe they have problems when they have no idea what the numbers mean.

Although she had normal vital signs, she insisted she was very ill and so did her family. Her past medical history prompted the crew to take her to hospital.


A strange call to a 20 year-old man who was found unconscious in a doorway. I was expecting a drunken person that I’d be able to shake awake with no problems but when I arrived two MOPs were hovering over him with worried expressions. The guy had his trousers and underwear halfway down his legs and he was face-down – completely unresponsive. This seemed bizarre; there was no explanation for his indecent exposure at this time of day.

When the crew arrived I had got started with obs and when we moved him we discovered a porn magazine underneath him, although I really don’t know if there was a connection. After a short time we managed to get him to open his eyes but he wasn’t talking to us and stared ahead with a totally drugged-up look. I asked him about this and he denied it. He looked unstable to me – physically and mentally.

His ECG was abnormal and appeared to show hypertrophy and ST elevation, so I asked him (when I could wake him) if he had chest pain. He nodded and went straight back into a deep slumber.

We ‘blued’ him in and he woke up a little more in Resus. He became unco-operative and attempted to leave the bed several times. ‘Why are you doing this to me?’ he asked over and over again. Then he grinned and fell back onto the bed unconscious.

I still don’t know why he was lying in the doorway like that and why his choice of reading matter lay beneath him. I suppose he settled down there after taking something (like LSD) and the magazine was company for him.


A 49 year-old woman with DIB and ‘purple lips’ was hyperventilating and didn’t have purple lips at all. The crew were on scene after I’d travelled a long way to get there, so I turned around and went back to my own area, only to be called again to the same location, more or less.


A 30 year-old had fitted and was now ‘passed out’ according to the caller, so I contacted Control and asked if I was required. After all, epileptics pass out a lot after a seizure, so it wouldn’t necessarily be life-threatening unless he fitted several times, continually or didn’t recover consciousness. I was sure a nearer crew could deal with it but I was sent anyway.

On the way, I received a message that a crew was on scene. I thought a cancellation would come through but it didn’t and I continued. When I arrived the crew was working over a patient lying on the ground. A lot of people had gathered round and I knew from the behaviour of the crew that this wasn’t a sleeping epileptic at all – it was a cardiac arrest in the street.

The young man had been jogging and suddenly collapsed. His agonal movements had been misinterpreted as fitting and when he stopped he was simply put in the recovery position. He wasn’t breathing but nobody noticed.

I assisted the crew with CPR and began my drugs protocols. He was shocked several times by the defibrillator and this brought a few gasps from the watching MOPs. In fact, they were getting too close and we had to tell them to back off several times before the police arrived to clear the area. Traffic was slowing as cars tail-gated for a look at what was going on; it was becoming a circus.

Everything was going smoothly and the patient’s condition remained the same – VF. I asked a bystander to help with the IV fluids and he became my drip stand. I asked his name but he was so nervous that he couldn’t remember it at first.

We moved the patient into the ambulance when the second FRU showed up (I had called this in as soon as I saw what was going on and requested a second crew). I gathered the rest of my stuff and followed them into the vehicle, where I found a complete stranger giving instructions.

‘Who are you?’ I asked.

‘I’m a cardiologist’, he replied.

‘Have you got ID?’

‘Yes’. He flashed a valid NHS ID card and I said he could stay and help but during the trip to hospital I had to remind him over and over again that I was in charge of the patient. He barked orders and got generally excited about the change in the patient’s condition when, after yet another shock, he converted from VF to VT. This was encouraging but by no means absolute and sure enough, by the time we reached hospital, he was back in VF.

I’m not knocking the doctor of course but the crew and me were perfectly able to deal with the patient; we all know what to do and everyone was working in harmony. His behaviour, however well-intended, could have thrown everyone into confusion at the risk of the patient and that just wasn’t going to happen. Having said that, it was valuable to have someone with his expertise on board because it was a difficult intubation and he helped with good cricoid pressure when I needed it.

At hospital, the patient’s condition changed from VT to VF several times until they finally stabilised him and he was taken to ITU. My colleagues have been kind enough to keep me up to date with his progress and I’m told that he is still critical but had opened his eyes after almost a week.

After the handover of this patient I went to the loo (as you do) and as I wandered back from the toilet to Resus via the Major's ward I noticed a patient sitting up in bed in a cubicle. Something caught my eye and I was sure of what it was but I hovered to watch him as he guiltily hid his hand. Then I saw it…smoke. The guy had an oxygen mask on and had slipped it up to his forehead while he enjoyed a cigarette in hospital! None of the nurses even noticed until I drew their attention to it. He could have set himself and the ward alight with his stupidity.


My last call was a distance away again. This time a 39 year-old woman who’d been learning to roller blade with her husband had fallen badly and broken her arm. Both bones were shattered below her elbow and she was in agony. I gave her entonox until the crew arrived, then I supplemented that with morphine, which eased the pain a little. This was an awkward job because her arm was badly deformed and the slightest movement caused her great pain and put the limb at risk. She had a good distal pulse, so as long as we were careful her arm would survive this.

A good shift for me; 'proper' jobs and I was in and out of my bag more than usual for a single day. I went home thinking I’d helped to make a difference – especially for the young man who’d suspended in the street. He wasn’t identified for a few days afterwards, I understand. Oh and my semi-willing drip-stand, who I’d never had the chance to thank properly was called Owen. Thanks Owen!

Be safe.

Naked cyclists

Eleven calls – one cancelled en-route (among the many others I don’t bother mentioning) and ten by ambulance.


An aggressive drunken 50 year-old slumped at a bus stop had my attention first thing in the morning. The crew was on scene with me and, although MOPs and an off-duty LAS EOC bod were helping him, he became a bit of a handful when the female crew member said something to him. He shot up and went for her but my hand was on his chest and pushing him back into the bus shelter seat before I’d planned it. He thumped back onto his behind and glared at me. ‘Don’t push me’, he said with slurred anger. It took us ten more minutes to calm him down enough to be taken to hospital, where absolutely no medical treatment was required.


On their way to work, two young men sat on the top deck of a bus heading down the Strand. One of the men suddenly collapsed and started fitting, much to the deep consternation and confusion his mate. When I arrived, the patient was in the recovery position on the floor – he was post ictal after having two seizures in quick succession.

‘Are you epileptic?’ I asked him. He nodded his head.

Sometimes even best friends keep their medical problems from each other as a way of protecting themselves and retaining their sense of capability. His mate was shocked to learn that he had this condition but he obviously knew the right thing to do and I applaud him for that.

The patient was very tall and the transfer from top deck to ambulance at ground level (obviously) was awkward and dangerous for the crew but we all get plenty of training on buses and trains to equip us for such lift and carries – not that our backs care much for this expertise.


A trip to the Great Ormond Street Hospital for Sick Children (GOSH) to attend a 55 year-old member of staff with chest pain next. The hospital isn’t equipped for emergencies like this and we are often called to deal with crises of this nature. In fact, the man had abdominal pain and right arm numbness, which I couldn’t connect to be honest but then I noticed a rash on his neck. The erythemic blush spread across his throat and down onto his chest; it seemed to be getting worse as we looked at it, so I figured all of his symptoms were associated, even though he denied having allergies. There’s a first time for everything and the older you get, the more likely you are to become sensitive to something. Having said that, he also had a high temperature so an internal infection may have triggered a reactive response.



Back into the West End to deal with a 40 year-old man who was ‘fitting’ inside a café. His seizure had stopped when I arrived and a customer was trying to help him as he lay completely confused on the floor. He didn’t know where he was or who he was so his BM was checked and it was low. The crew arrived and he was given Glucagon immediately. This would need to be followed up with a carbohydrate, so I begged a free croissant from the café ladies, who were only too happy to help. I should stress that the pastry was for the patient, not me, although I was very hungry. I did share a Mars Bar with a diabetic once after he’d had his bit and I didn’t feel too guilty about that.

After a short while, he became more aware and went to the ambulance for further obs and a trip to hospital (he had been fitting after all).


Now we don’t often get calls where professionalism is tested but my next job, for a 38 year-old man with chest pain at a posh hotel threw me off course for a few seconds. I was taken up to the room by the concierge and the door was opened by a beautiful tall Eastern European woman wearing a flimsy top and nothing but underwear below; not very much underwear I hasten to add. I walked in expecting her to blush and cover up rapidly but she didn’t – she walked around and talked me through her boyfriend’s problem as he lay on his back on the bed, half naked himself. The concierge was still at the open door and looked as though he wanted to come in but patient confidentiality forced me to smile at him and say ‘thanks, I can deal with this now’. I could see the smile melt from his face as he closed the door on himself and I chuckled inside.

My patient was having chest pain after taking cocaine earlier, by his own admission. I won’t go into more detail about the movements of the young woman around me as I tried to talk to him but I had to stop and refer to her directly after a few seconds.

‘Sorry miss, what’s your name?’

She told me her name.

‘Do you think you could get dressed for me or cover up a bit more please?’

I had a friendly smile on my face so I don’t think I caused her any embarrassment - not that she seemed capable of that anyway.

She spent the next few minutes struggling to find appropriate clothing and I continued to be professional with my patient. Cocaine can cause serious problems with the heart, so I wasn’t demoting his condition, although he did keep asking me if he was going to die, which was unlikely.

When the crew arrived the girl was respectable and the man was calmer. Downstairs, the concierge had informed his mates about the fuss in the room and told me that, as far as he knew, she wasn’t an ‘escort’. I hadn’t even asked him.


Another allergic reaction in the afternoon and my 42 year-old patient was waiting for me at the local fire station, where the boys in (black?) had put her on oxygen and readied themselves for a possible cardiac arrest. She was stable, although her throat had swollen and she was concerned about that. Her breathing was fine and she could still talk – always a good sign. She had no allergies that she knew of and had just finished a Chinese meal. The bad news for her was that she did have an allergy and it had caught up with her, so off she went to hospital.


I sped up to Camden on an assist when Control relayed a message that urgent police had been called for a crew who was being attacked (presumably by a patient). When I got there the police had arrived and at least two other FRU’s were on scene. Whatever had taken place was now over so I turned around and headed back.


A call to the Globe theatre for a 67 year-old man who’d fainted was a wasted journey too because the crew was arriving as I pulled up but I bumped into an old friend from years ago. She works there now and I managed to get ten minutes of catching up done before I went back to my own area.


A 25 year-old man with a history of fainting may need specialist examination because he had no other relevant problems. Repeated faints are always suspicious and should be carefully checked, so off he went to hospital.


On the way to my next call, which was cancelled before I got to it, I drove through a ‘parade’ of semi-naked cyclist on a rally through Central London. I went contra-flow and this upset some of them but I think I had the advantage because (a) I was in a car with blue lights on, (b) fully clothed and (c) might have looked better naked on a bike than most of those I saw.


Two children to treat next; a four year-old who was badly shaken after a mirror apparently fell onto her in a shop as her mother tried on clothes and another four year-old girl who fell off her dad’s bike on Park Lane – a notoriously fast and busy road. The former, as I said, was just shaken and the latter had a minor head injury, luckily. She too was distressed but the crew was on scene as I arrived and a passing medic had stopped to help. Both children were taken to hospital.

Be safe.

Kiev - my second home

I'm a bit behind on posting...I have a few to write up yet but haven't had the time, so here's a commercial break...

As you know, I visited beautiful Kiev for the second time last month and had a thoroughly relaxing time. The architecture is amazing, the people are friendly (although the older folk tend not to smile much - a habit from the old Soviet days I guess) and it has become one of the most dynamically international cities of the past five years with an influx of tourists and business people from around the world.

I spent a mere two days there and I hope to spend more time in the Ukraine in future because it has a lot of secrets and finding them is part of the joy of going there.

One aspect of Kiev(ian) life I noticed that's changed is the prominence of public alcohol consumption. A lot of the youth are drinking booze in parks, in the town square and on the streets generally. These are young men and women who'd have been pressed into military service not so long ago but now, with a Western influence and a jobless economy for most of them, the culture of alcohol is rapidly taking over and it will surely end in tears.

Having said that, there's no litter, very little graffiti, no obvious trouble or violence as a result of drinking and the population still behave as a disciplined society. The church is still a strong influence for many (I got shushed once for making a noise during a service!) and there is a palpable family-orientated culture.

I think when I go back many more things will have begun to change. There are two McDonald's restaurants within shouting distance of each other in Central Kiev. I'm sure the other mega-chains are on their way and the downward spiral will begin. I still love the place though. Here are some pics...

Revenge of Mr. C!

Four emergency calls – all taken by ambulance.

I thought you’d be amused by this police car’s call-sign. I smiled at the irony when I saw it – if your brain doesn’t think like mine then you’ll miss the point.


Mr Colostomy bag is back in the area and causing havoc by having us run around in circles for him every day, as usual. Mr C. is a disgusting human being with a full colostomy bag which hangs from his open colon. He takes great delight in detaching it and displaying his innards, much to the shock of the general public who rush en-masse to dial 999 for the man with a ‘serious stomach wound; bowels hanging out’. Even before we start rolling on the call, this description gives him away every time. We all know him and he is often abusive and aggressive.

I arrived to find him slumped pathetically in a corner near the train station. There’s nothing wrong with him medically but he is in and out of hospital every day, sometimes two or three times a day. His only complaint is that his bag is full. His term for this is that ‘it’s getting worse’. Yeah, it is, worse for all of us. The stench is unbearable and this time, because I told him he wouldn’t be going to hospital, he threw the damn thing at me. Luckily, I’m faster than him and I managed to step out of the line of fire. The bag landed in the street and the contents leaked out like watery caramel. Don’t be fooled by the alluring colour…its horrible stuff and its not edible.

The crew took him away; I guess they had no choice and the bag of putrid faeces remained on the ground, a few feet from the entrance of the local McDonalds. It’s just as well the corporation don’t still use their happy clown (which I always found freaky) because the smile would be wiped from his face if he'd seen what his burger-munching customers were having to step over..


A collapsed 65 year-old cancer patient (Ca head and neck) was just a little weak. He fell down a few times and was generally unsteady on his legs but it caused panic in his household. He was receiving radiotherapy and was due for his last session, so the crew (one of two that turned up for some reason) took him to his appointment.


A member of staff at a cycle shop started fitting out of the blue and with no previous history of epilepsy, so I was sent with a crew to help him. His seizure was dying out when we arrived and he was taken to hospital for investigation. The back end of the shop looked like a cycle graveyard. The best I could come up woth was 'so, what do you sell here then?' but it was a lead balloon.


When I get a call for chest pain and the patient is younger than 20 years old, I generally don’t believe it, so my last call, for a 14 year-old with chest pain at the Tate Modern had me thinking that it was probably something else…possibly hyperventilation. She was in the medical room with her teachers and a friend and she had abdominal pain. She had no medical history, except for heartburn but even that seemed a little much for a young, fit person, so I handed her over to a double-female crew and more pertinent questions, regarding periods, were asked when all the boys (including me) had left the room.


On my way back I stumbled (if that’s possible in a car) into a running call. A man flagged me down in the belief that I was the ambulance he had called for earlier to assist with the lifting of a very heavy patient at the front of the Tate Modern’s car park. I wasn’t, I told him but I radio’d in and suggested I could help out. Control was, of course, very happy that I could because they had nothing to send anyway and it was a green call.

I almost regretted being such a helpful Stu because the man was enormous and lay on the ground after spilling out of his wheelchair as he attempted to get back into his incredibly small car. He had no use of his legs and could only help me with his upper body. I’m no giant and I knew this was going to be difficult and probably painful for me. I asked for a volunteer from the Gallery’s security and got one man to help. The others sheepishly avoided direct eye contact. I have conjunctivitis at the moment and my eyes are a bit red, so maybe they didn’t want to offend me, who knows?

Anyway, with me and one other brave fellow, we hauled the man upwards. Then we dropped him as the sheer weight defeated us. I re-arranged my spine and we tried again after a short interval (no snacks). This time we managed, with Herculean effort, to lift the poor bloke onto the edge of his wheelchair which had been tilted, in time-honoured fashion, at an angle for an easier life. Once on the chair, he was able to pull himself further back into the seat using his own arms, thankfully. Otherwise he was destined for the ground at speed and we were heading for acute back problems and seriously damaged tendons. I’m only little but I’m strong, so don’t mess!

Be safe.

A slow shift

Four emergency calls – all taken by ambulance.


A mixed bag of complaints from a 50 year-old man experiencing palpitations. He suffered from high blood pressure, a foot infection and had a history of unexplained cardiac problems, including undiagnosed 'palpitations' which sometimes required Adenosine to bring it under control. I couldn’t do much for him pre-hospital, so he was taken in and investigated further.


Another Red1 ‘life status questionable’ call for another sleeping (drunken) street foreigner. The 40 year-old Pole wasn’t amused by the presence of the police and refused to talk to them (or us). He had a cut to his eye, probably as a result of an inebriated stumble or a fight and this had prompted a MOP to call us with a report that he had been stabbed or shot and was now slumped, probably dead, in a doorway. Although the scenario was very unlikely, we were told to stand-by at a distance. The crew and I stood-by around the corner; hardly a distance I know but we are curious people and like to be near the action.


Into a horrible housing estate and a filthy flat to investigate the illness of a 40 year-old woman who languished (yes, it is the right word in this context) in bed complaining of everything wrong, including DIB, which allowed us to award her call a Red3 and a faster response. She had no DIB and probably spoke at length without pausing for breath when she made the call but she told me she felt unwell. I felt unwell too but I wasn’t going to hospital in an ambulance. All her obs were normal (not even a raised temperature).


At least my next patient waited a week before worrying about the seriousness of her condition and calling the emergency services for help. The 26 year-old had fainted after feeling unwell for the past seven days. Her colleagues put her in the recovery position on the floor of her office. She had suffered from migraine and vomiting days before but had no significant medical history. Only when she was in the ambulance and privacy was secured did she confess, after questioning, that she’d taken drugs. Some mysteries just aren’t.

Be safe.