I'm back

Hey everybody...

Just a quick note to say that I'm back in the blogosphere. I've taken a few months off - from pretty much everything - so I should have the blog back up and running here in a few weeks.

A friendly request.... if you love (or hate) what you read, let me know. Please feel free to leave comments by clicking on the 'comment' button at the bottom of the post. I never even realized anyone was reading this blog....

See ya soon!

Perfect Timing....

Gotta love it.

We sat in the parking lot of a local strip mall this morning for over five hours waiting for our first call. We usually sit out in the truck and nap, talk, read, play with our cell phones or do whatever else we can to pass the time. On a slow day, it can get pretty boring.... but that's good.

So far, I've learned two very important things about EMS: Eat whenever you have the chance and pee whenever you have the chance. I usually try to bring some snack-type stuff and a drink to keep my stomach somewhat happy. Unfortunately, I'm pretty lazy and usually neglect to make myself a sandwich. That hurt me today.

Anytime I'm in the process of purchasing a drink or a meal at any type of establishment, it's guaranteed that we'll get a call - which means put it down and get back to the truck. There's no "Hang on a second... let me pay for this first."

So, of course, even after sitting in the same freakin' place for five hours, we try to go in somewhere and grab a quick bite to eat - to go, nonetheless - and we get a call. Imagine that.

I guess that's why we get paid the big bucks.... ha.

I'm hit! I'm hit!

Sounds like something you'd hear in a war movie, doesn't it? Well... had you been with me at 5:45 this morning, you would've heard it. Well, not really, but I might as well have said it. Details to come....

First of all, it's worth mentioning that I did pass my EMT exam and I'm now working with my field training officer (FTO) and his partner. The written exam was pretty easy. The practical exam was a little more challenging for me, as I tend to get nervous when I'm being graded.

So, I'm more or less functioning as an EMT now. I've started taking the lead on some calls now and I'm getting more comfortable doing the job.

Ok... sorry.... back to today.

It's 5:30 am and we're out on the streets, ready to go to our first post assignment and eventually on to our first call. The past few days have been pretty slow this early, with our first call not coming until 8:00 or so. My first mistake was assuming that that would be the case today. I told myself I'd just wait until we got to the first post for the day to grab something to drink and eat.

Well, 5 minutes after leaving the parking lot, we get a call. Great. It's gonna be a busy day.

The call was for 'person unconscious'. As I've learned, these calls can go either way. It could either be a legitimate unconscious person or a homeless person just trying to get some sleep. Unfortunately, it was for the former and not the latter.

We pull up on scene - fire department was there already, of course - and are told that a woman has passed out in the bathroom. Hmmmm.... lemme see.... passed out in the bathroom.... where do most people pass out in the bathroom.... and what are they doing when they pass out?

I'll give you a hint. The answer to the last question is "number two".

Well, suffice to say that that was the case. Also, the bathroom was really small. Add those together and you've got a messy situation on your hands. Add in two medics and a firefighter trying to get her off of said throne and out of the bathroom and you've got yourself an even messier situation.

Unfortunately, I happened to be the one with my hands under her arms dragging her off the pot. We had placed a sheet under her to try and contain some of the... um... waste material. Well, the sheet kind of ripped. And, when it did.... my pant legs happened to be in the line of fire, so to speak.

So, once we got her to the hospital, it was time to head back to our main post so I could get a clean pair of pants and wash mine in the biohazard washing machine. Did I say that it was going to be a good day? Evidently, word travels fast around our service. Every time I saw one of my friends after that, they would say "I heard you had a fun morning...". And of course, I got the inevitable "Hey... it's Mr. Poopy-pants!"

Well, that was only the beginning... literally and figuratively.

After a couple of routine calls, we got called to a traffic accident. We arrive to find a car with almost no damage that was supposedly rear-ended. Of course, the driver was complaining of horrible neck and back pain. Of course.

So... I walk up to assess the guy and the firefighter approaches me and tells me that he speaks French and no English. Ok... no problem... I'll just speak really loudly and slowly. Well, I lean in the car and ask him his name. "Abdul", he says. Ok yet again.... not generally a French name, but there are Moroccan people that speak French. Alright... well, let's get him on a spine board, get him in the truck and get going to the hospital.

Once we were in the truck, I decide to probe to see if he speaks Arabic (which, in case you're unaware.... I speak semi-fluently). Well, guess what... he does. Sooo.... I actually got brush the cobwebs off my Arabic today. I translated for the remainder of our trip to the hospital and for the Dr. once we arrived.

I guess that $250,000 the government spent to teach me Arabic was well spent. Your tax dollars at work!

To the paramedics of my agency....

Just a quick note to say... I don't give a damn!

If you don't like working here, quit and go find another job. I don't want to listen to your bellyaching and bitching about how bad this job is or how horrible and clueless the management is.

Why don't you join up and go over to Afghanistan or Iraq, then come back and tell me how much you hate this job - or how shitty it is. At least at the end of your horrible twelve hour shift, you can go home. Try going on a multi-week mission, where you're getting shot at with AK-47's and RPGs every freakin' day, you sleep on hardpack dirt and you eat all your meals out of a bag. Oh yeah, and you're 7,000 miles from home.

You think it's so horrible that you're asked to work overtime? Try being in a combat zone for a year then when you're finally ready to re-deploy home, you're told you've gotta stay for another three months. I mean, hey... you dodged bullets for this long, what's another three months?

I'm sorry that you're asked to upgrade to crew chief (with an associated pay raise). I hate it for you that you can't remain a responsibility-free paramedic, riding 2nd for the rest of your career. Well, guess what... as soon as I got what little bit of rank I had, I was put in charge of a truck and three soldiers. I didn't want the job, but I put on my big-boy britches and did it. It was time to step up.

Sorry for the rant, I just had to vent. I know that as a new, inexperienced employee, I don't have much room to talk. I do, however, retain the right to marginalize your bitching. I think I earned it.

I'm back...

Sorry for the long posting hiatus.... I've been busy studying and my ride-along shifts have been pretty blah. Nothing worth posting about. That is, unless y'all want to hear about my twelve hour shift with the two most personality-challenged individuals I've ever had the pleasure to meet.

I mean, holy shit... we ran a total of three calls that day - pretty slow. They didn't feel like going to the fire station we were assigned to, so we sat out in the parking lot of a nearby Texaco for three and a half hours. Yes, three and a half hours. One of em' read the local "Pennysaver" newspaper and the other one just sat there and stared out the window.

If any of you ever saw the Seinfeld episode where Elaine and Putty were on the airplane together and Putty just sat there and stared at the seat in front of him, that's what it reminded me of. I just had the overwhelming desire to make cricket noises. Ugh.. oh well. Hopefully, I won't have to ride with those guys again. They were nice, I guess, just boring.

I'm nearing the end of my EMT class and will be spending a lot more time on the truck here in the near future, so I should have plenty of time to write and plenty of new material here in the next few weeks.

In the meantime, I'd like to post a couple of stories that an ER nurse friend of mine sent me. They're pretty funny..... When you read them, it will remind you to think twice before you talk about how bad of a day you had at the office.

One day we got a woman in for bowel evacuation. She weighed over 450 lbs and it was dangerous to even have her on a stretcher. They make special beds for the obese but not stretchers. (Editors note: They make em' now... we've got one that'll carry up to 1500 pounds) She was so big that we couldn't raise the siderails......somebody had to stand on the other side from me and keep her from falling off. We finally got her on her left side and I was ready to start the enemas. I couldn't find her anus. I had to use my left shoulder to hold up her right buttock so I could examine her. It was the only time that I ever needed ALL the enema tubing. I removed with my whole arm and hand some stool and began giving her the solution. The enema solution would not stay in. It ran out almost as fast as it went in. I tried holding her buttocks together around the tubing and put her in trendelenburg position (feet raised). She retained some of the solution and all of a sudden the other nurse and I saw the rapid return of water but heard a "Ping, Ping, Ping". I looked over my shoulder and saw three watermelon seeds on the wall behind me. It was all we could do to keep our composure. She couldn't walk but obviously someone was taking her plenty of food----even watermelon.

I was taking care of a face and head burn in the er one day. A radiator had overheated and the man took the cap off spaying hot fluid on his face,ear, neck and scalp. As I was dressing him one of our frequent visitors came in and was put in the cubicle beside us. Her chief complaint was,"I's gots Gas" The nurse asked what had caused the gas and she said "I ett cabbage and boiled aigs." The doctor came in and told her he would do some tests for gallbladder disease. "BLADDER,BLADDER I ain't got no trouble with my BLADDER---I's got gas." He left and as the er was very busy it was a while before anyone came back in. I went for more supplies and returned to find my patient crying and his wife unable to talk. Finally she was able to tell me that the patient called out to her family STAND BACK STAND BACK ----HERE IT COMES-HERE IT COMES-HERE IT COMES! And then she farted.

Pretty funny, eh? Oh yeah, check out the latest post over at Monkeygirl's blog.... it's pretty good. Makes you wanna work in the ER.

Public Service Announcement

Holy crap

That was what I thought when I walked in the front door of patient #1.

It was our first call of the day. Of course, we were only about 10 feet out of the parking lot when we got it. It was going to be a long day.... I could feel it.

After a while, I guess you can get a feel for a call just by what kind of call it is and where it's coming from. The crew chief I was riding along with immediately threw up the 'bullshit flag' when we heard this one come across. It was for a 'fall with injury' and it was coming from the other side of the tracks - so to speak. Well, let's just say that he wasn't that far off.

We pulled up to the small apartment building and were met by some firefighters that had queasy looks on their faces. They led us downstairs and into a small apartment, where we were immediately overcome by a horrible odor. It was an unmistakable odor.... it was poo.

Apparently, our 'fall with injury' was a 400-plus pound woman that had not gotten out of bed for about three or four days. And when I say she hadn't gotten out of bed, I mean she hadn't gotten out of bed... for ANYTHING. Her wonderful home health care aides had let her sit there in her own pee and poo for days. Combine that with the fact that she had been taking some type of diet pill that made her have to poo a lot and you've got yourself a bad situation.

So... we had to get her out of there and to the hospital.

It wasn't going to be an easy task. She couldn't move at all due to her size and the fact she had diabetes that had ruined her feet.

Of course, as the new guy, I had the glorious task of pre-move-poo-cleaner - meaning that I had to clean a lot off before we got her on our stretcher. Lucky me. To protect things, we had thrown a plastic-like sheet over our stretcher before we moved her over. Two medics and four firefighters later, we had her on our stretcher and ready to go.

Once we arrived at the hospital, we transferred her over to the ER staff and saw to it that Adult Protective Services was notified, to ensure that she gets the care she needs.

I figure that if I didn't run away screaming from this job after that, I'm ok.

After that call, the rest of the day went by pretty quickly. A couple more legitimate calls and a couple of bullshit calls. All in all, a normal day from what I've experienced thus far.

My first day in "The Box"

The Box. The module. The patient compartment.

Whatever you want to call it. It's the big square thing on the ambulance where the patient rides. In case you were wondering... that's where the title came from.

As I've learned, EMTs and Paramedics work in a very unique environment. Not only do we deal with the crazy things that happen day in and day out on the streets, but we deal with them while locked in a box going down the road at 60 miles an hour. You can't go in the next room, you can't go to the nurses station and there is no doctor to be found (except on the radio... but that's another story). Oh yeah, and forget about being able to hear anything in your stethoscope over the noise of the truck - especially running lights and sirens. Ugh... oh well. I'll learn.

Some background info... I'm currently in an 'EMT Academy' run by a large county EMS system. I'm paid a regular salary, given full benefits and have a weekly schedule that includes three days of class and two days of 'ride-along' time. Our system is fairly busy, averaging about 90,000 calls a year. So... I get exposed to just about everything... literally and figuratively.

My first day on the truck was pretty laid back. I rode along with a crew working from 7am to 7pm. Right out of the gate, we were sent to the northern part of the county, which is normally not very busy. We drove about 20 minutes north, parked at the fire station and went inside to chill out for a bit, while we awaited our first call.

After about an hour of lying around on the couch and watching tv, our pagers went off. First call... woohoo! It was a traffic accident. Imagine that.... a traffic accident at rush hour. We headed to the truck, flipped on the lights and sirens and edged out into rush hour traffic, following the lead of the rescue truck parked next to us.

Cars stopped, pulled over and we bolted down the middle of the road in rush hour traffic. Apparently, the crew I was riding with likes to drive fast. Really fast. This is good, if you happen to need our services. This is not good if you happen to be in front of us and unwilling to move or you're just generally out in space. If either is true, you'll receive several loud blasts of our air horn, which will briefly make you lose control of your bladder and/or bowels.

Side note - please pull to the RIGHT for emergency vehicles. It is absolutely amazing how many people will just freak out and come to a complete stop in the middle of the road. Amazing.

Where was I? Oh yeah, the traffic accident....

Well, it wasn't much of a big deal. Some lady had t-boned another lady in a mall parking lot, their airbags had deployed and they refused treatment and transport. Not too crazy of a call.

After we finished tapping out the call report on the computer, we got sent to another station in the northern part of the county - one even less busy. Well, we ended up sitting there for about six hours... no calls. Ugh. At least I had plenty of time to catch up on some studying I needed to do. Of course, once resources started getting low down towards the city, we got pulled away from that post and sent to one of the busiest in town. It's in a less-than-stellar part of town otherwise known as "the hood". Alright... now I was going to get to go on some 'real' calls! Or at least I thought.

As soon as we got close to town, we were called to another accident. We sped down the interstate with lights and sirens blaring. Of course, as soon as we got off at the exit, we got cancelled - meaning another unit closer to the call took it - or - they no longer needed us. Either way, I knew the people on the interstate were probably pissed.... they saw us pull off at the exit and cut off our lights and sirens. I'm sure they were cursing us.

Well, no sooner did we cut off our lights and sirens than we got another call nearby. On they go again. We read on the computer that it was a 911 call for a 'traumatic injury'... no other details. It was on a bad side of town, but we were close by and we had the fire department right behind us.

We pull into a dingy little apartment complex and notice a woman flagging us down. We pull the truck down into the parking lot and hop out. We notice that she's pointing to the basketball court, where there are several kids playing basketball. We were thinking that someone had fallen down... maybe broken an ankle or elbow. Well, as us and several firefighters walk up to the basketball court, the woman - apparently the mother of one of the kids - tells us she had called because her son's hands "Were about to fall off...".

Well, they weren't about to fall off. They were dry and a little cracked. Nothing a little lotion couldn't fix. Instead, she chose to call 911.

Sooo.... we took him to the hospital. The mom wanted him to go to the emergency room and see a doctor. We cannot refuse to take anyone, even if we think it's a trivial reason. Upon arrival at the hospital, he was immediately sent to the waiting room. Ha.

Of course, when we got the insurance information from the mom... to attempt to pay for the ambulance ride... she proudly insisted that "Medicaid's gonna pay fo dis..." Umm... yeah, I don't think so. Then again, she probably isn't going to pay for it anyway. Argh.

From what everyone told me, those kind of calls are more the norm than they are the exception. Gotta love it.

At least it'll give me plenty of material for the blog!