Our brand spanking new monitors have arrived! After much deliberation we decided to replace the Likepak 12s that we had been using since they came out. Our decision was to switch to the Phillips MRX monitor. I'm actually quite excited.
The new monitors will have NBP and ETCO2 which is an upgrade from the Lifepaks. All things aside Phillips can provide a better level of service compared to Lifepak. Which was the driving force behind us giving them a chance. Plus you can't beat the on screen 12 lead view.
After taking the mandatory training and some online stuff, they are here for our enjoyment. Through the weekend they are sitting in our lounges for us to play with and become slightly proficient with. I'm sure the first full arrest will be interesting, but the machine just seems so easy to use. Granted as an EMT my over zealous attitude might not be shared by many medics who've been glued to Lifepak for years.
I look forward to getting home after a long day at work and spending a little quality time with my new "partner." And as the night is going I'll get in late enough so I'll be alone, left to my own devices, insert sinister laugh.
Friday, September 28, 2007
Simple Amazing
If you didn't know or haven't had the chance to read Skywritings Blog, I would strongly recommend you take the time.
To a knuckle-dragger like myself it's simply amazes me to even write a blog much less a blog written in the same universe as hers. She writes with such a vision and in a way I could only dream of.
Her latest installment on Feb, 28th is of course no let down. In which she discovers the slightest bit of incite through an evening spent fishing. The connection with nature and the world at that one on one level is just awesome.
One can't read the post without a little jealousy. She found a "spot of time" (her term) that allowed her to reflect on her past, yet still look forward. I assume many would crave the same level of clarity or serenity. I know I do.
When you're a child the world seems so large and new, everything you touch and smell and feel, everything you see can grab you for a moment and in that moment the world stops. That moment captures you only for a second, but you felt time go by in a manner you can't describe. As you grow older your world shrinks on you, chokes you a bit. The distance between those moments increase in proportion to the speed of your life. You might not even notice, as I hadn't really noticed, that is until something jars you a bit, makes you think about your life, past, present and future. Why don't you seem to find the serenity, serenity you didn't even know you had lost.
I reflect and came to conclusion that with older eyes you might not need the vision of a toad jumping onto a new lilly pad or looking out from The Grand Tetons to find your serenity. Maybe one can create it wherever they are, just be revisiting those places, those times in their mind. I suspect that Scully's vision quest might have been boiling to the surface and giving the right avenue it did. I think that might be the answer, finding the right avenue. Your personal avenue.
Anyway stop by and pay her a visit, it was a fantastic post, it really made me think, hard.
Thank you Scully.
To a knuckle-dragger like myself it's simply amazes me to even write a blog much less a blog written in the same universe as hers. She writes with such a vision and in a way I could only dream of.
Her latest installment on Feb, 28th is of course no let down. In which she discovers the slightest bit of incite through an evening spent fishing. The connection with nature and the world at that one on one level is just awesome.
One can't read the post without a little jealousy. She found a "spot of time" (her term) that allowed her to reflect on her past, yet still look forward. I assume many would crave the same level of clarity or serenity. I know I do.
When you're a child the world seems so large and new, everything you touch and smell and feel, everything you see can grab you for a moment and in that moment the world stops. That moment captures you only for a second, but you felt time go by in a manner you can't describe. As you grow older your world shrinks on you, chokes you a bit. The distance between those moments increase in proportion to the speed of your life. You might not even notice, as I hadn't really noticed, that is until something jars you a bit, makes you think about your life, past, present and future. Why don't you seem to find the serenity, serenity you didn't even know you had lost.
I reflect and came to conclusion that with older eyes you might not need the vision of a toad jumping onto a new lilly pad or looking out from The Grand Tetons to find your serenity. Maybe one can create it wherever they are, just be revisiting those places, those times in their mind. I suspect that Scully's vision quest might have been boiling to the surface and giving the right avenue it did. I think that might be the answer, finding the right avenue. Your personal avenue.
Anyway stop by and pay her a visit, it was a fantastic post, it really made me think, hard.
Thank you Scully.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Sleeping Alone
I slide into bed, adjusting the pillows here and there. Enjoying the entire bed to myself, probably enjoying it more than my girlfriend would like to know. It had been a long rainy night. Driving the usual half an hour down to class through rain that wouldn't allow you to see the road much less the lines painted on it. The whole ride my mind is caught thinking about the impending final I'm about to take. How I'm pissed that it was moved up two weeks and that we haven't gone over the material that I'm being tested on tonight. But that's another post itself.
The test is as pointless as I thought. In my opinon it does little to evaluate me. I make the long journey home, to the awaiting bed and some much needed sleep.
Pillows set, blankets just right, fan on, close the shades, sprawled out like I own the place and it's "night-night."
The pager goes off, not with the usual tones that indicate a regular ambulance call, but with the "good tones." The ones indicating either a fire or a rescue call. (Rescue can mean extrication, full arrest, water rescue, ice rescue, trench rescue, I think you get the idea.)
"I need rescue out of Station #1 to.... on a full arrest" The pager screams.
I'm up and struggle a little with the blankets as they attempt to subdue me. After my own mini extrication I find my jumpsuit and radio. Seeing as I live across the damn street from the fire department along with my roommate and the neighboring house we make quite a sizable force at 2345 at night. If the girlfriend spends the night we have four EMT and two Medics basically standing-by. For a volunteer department it makes for really nice response times. We pull out with four EMTs and one Medic.
En route in three minutes, arrived in three minutes, found the PD doing CPR a minute after that, hell I think we might rival some full time joints with that kind of a response.
It looks like an ant colony going to work on this little old lady. Bags flying here and there, pads off, new pads on, ET equipment laid out and IV bags spiked ready for the Easy OI hook up.
Enter the second medic, having the better fly-by view, she halts the efforts just prior to them really starting. Assessing the possible downtime and the fact the first medic remarks that the lady's jaw is quite rigid. The decision is made to halt the efforts. A another strip is ran for confirmation.
As I rustle up my garbage and collect what's left of the IV bag I over hear the medic tell the daughter her mother is dead.
"No, No, you have to do something! You have to do something!" She protest.
"Ma'am, she's dead, she's gone, I'm very for your loss sorry"
We clear the scene, having only gotten out of bed exactly 20 minutes before.
I get home and clean up, hanging my jumpsuit on the same hook as always, boots right beside, radio back into it's charger. Waiting for their next trip.
It's impossible that her daughter will be able to sleep as well I hopefully will. It retrace the call in my mind as I fall asleep. Waiting for my personal medic to wake me up as she gets home at 0600, wondering what calls she's ran, her battles.
As usual I slept like a baby, I always do when the bed is mine.
The test is as pointless as I thought. In my opinon it does little to evaluate me. I make the long journey home, to the awaiting bed and some much needed sleep.
Pillows set, blankets just right, fan on, close the shades, sprawled out like I own the place and it's "night-night."
The pager goes off, not with the usual tones that indicate a regular ambulance call, but with the "good tones." The ones indicating either a fire or a rescue call. (Rescue can mean extrication, full arrest, water rescue, ice rescue, trench rescue, I think you get the idea.)
"I need rescue out of Station #1 to.... on a full arrest" The pager screams.
I'm up and struggle a little with the blankets as they attempt to subdue me. After my own mini extrication I find my jumpsuit and radio. Seeing as I live across the damn street from the fire department along with my roommate and the neighboring house we make quite a sizable force at 2345 at night. If the girlfriend spends the night we have four EMT and two Medics basically standing-by. For a volunteer department it makes for really nice response times. We pull out with four EMTs and one Medic.
En route in three minutes, arrived in three minutes, found the PD doing CPR a minute after that, hell I think we might rival some full time joints with that kind of a response.
It looks like an ant colony going to work on this little old lady. Bags flying here and there, pads off, new pads on, ET equipment laid out and IV bags spiked ready for the Easy OI hook up.
Enter the second medic, having the better fly-by view, she halts the efforts just prior to them really starting. Assessing the possible downtime and the fact the first medic remarks that the lady's jaw is quite rigid. The decision is made to halt the efforts. A another strip is ran for confirmation.
As I rustle up my garbage and collect what's left of the IV bag I over hear the medic tell the daughter her mother is dead.
"No, No, you have to do something! You have to do something!" She protest.
"Ma'am, she's dead, she's gone, I'm very for your loss sorry"
We clear the scene, having only gotten out of bed exactly 20 minutes before.
I get home and clean up, hanging my jumpsuit on the same hook as always, boots right beside, radio back into it's charger. Waiting for their next trip.
It's impossible that her daughter will be able to sleep as well I hopefully will. It retrace the call in my mind as I fall asleep. Waiting for my personal medic to wake me up as she gets home at 0600, wondering what calls she's ran, her battles.
As usual I slept like a baby, I always do when the bed is mine.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Back in the Saddle, Somewhat
So being as last might was the first time I had been in an ambulance in just about six weeks, I thought it was worth writing about. The body of this post will of course consist of me ranting about people I hate, despised and generally like to talk shit about. Just to clear up things, I did not take a six week vacation. It just so happens that on our department we have EMS Teams. Each team covers the city for 48 hours straight, less the time you are at your regular job. I work from roughly 0700 to 1700, meaning I will respond up until about 0530 and start again at about 1730 give or take traffic. Obviously there are people who work nights on my team as well and they of course cover the day portion that I miss.
Call comes in for a older lady with chest pain. My usual medics are working a full arrest so I have two "fill ins" that will meet me and the rest of the ambulance crew at the scene.
Welcome to what I will call the "body" of the post...
Medic #1 calls in, "I'll be responding to the scene."
Medic #2 calls in, "Medic #2 same traffic."
About this time I all I can think about is Chris Farley in Tommy Boy, talking about jerking the wheel into a god damn bridge endbankment. I, like always push on, hoping that Medic #1 won't talk forever as she always does and the Medic #2 will not be the bitch that she usually is.
Before I go any further I feel it fair to air the dirty laundry and talk a a little regarding the reason for my distaste.
Medic #1, has been a medic for four years I would say, pulls down a ton of calls a year as she can jump on a call if they need people or so on. Now it's not that we are short medics, it's that when you hear her call in you probably think twice and decide not to go. She will scare people right off the rig. Mainly because she is annoying, talks a lot and I mean a lot, (about the dumbest shit I've ever heard and it all falls on deaf ears as no one even pays attention), she will argue that her treatment is correct or the most appropriate every time. The only time I will ride with her is when I have to or no one else has called in and they are short people, NEVER by choice.
Medic #2, I don't even care to know how long she has been a medic, maybe eight years or so. She's the perfect cookie cutter medic, the problem better fall into something that resembles a topic in our medical direction book, cause the patient surely won't receive anything else. She's bossy has no leadership skills and to top it all off, please continuing reading and you'll see
My very first experience with this gal was at a CPR refresher regarding the new AHA guidelines. You had to of course show your could perform and for only like a minute.
AHA instructor: "Alright, now we will go through and let everyone practice doing the new CPR, pulling our hands off the chest wall to allow for maximum recoil, any questions?"
Medic #2: "I don't do CPR, that's what I have EMTs for. Plus it hurts my wrists."
DONE, SEALED, OVER, MY FIRST OPINION OF THIS TWAT WAS FOREVER BURNED ON MY BRAIN. How dare you even utter something like that you snot nosed little prissy. Unbelievable and she is a firefighter to top it off. Yes this gal had to at one time play ruff and get dirty and pass some sort of physically agility test, but can't bother to do CPR for one minute, as if it is beneath her.
No, I'm sorry I reserve CPR for the peasant, the slightly trained chimps, you know the ones, strong back weak mind, the mouth breathers, knuckle draggers and so on. They are the ones who should be practicing, seeing as like only 2% of full arrest actually come back they might need to practice on saving a life instead of me. I just pushed the drugs like the little book tells me too. Oh squiggle line like that I push this, oh it changed to that squiggle, the book says push this next.
Thank you, that was very cathartic.
Anyway the call went relatively painless, big mouth didn't really talk to much and cookie cutter was semi-pleasant and kept to herself.
Another life saves, another check on the wall of insanity.
Call comes in for a older lady with chest pain. My usual medics are working a full arrest so I have two "fill ins" that will meet me and the rest of the ambulance crew at the scene.
Welcome to what I will call the "body" of the post...
Medic #1 calls in, "I'll be responding to the scene."
Medic #2 calls in, "Medic #2 same traffic."
About this time I all I can think about is Chris Farley in Tommy Boy, talking about jerking the wheel into a god damn bridge endbankment. I, like always push on, hoping that Medic #1 won't talk forever as she always does and the Medic #2 will not be the bitch that she usually is.
Before I go any further I feel it fair to air the dirty laundry and talk a a little regarding the reason for my distaste.
Medic #1, has been a medic for four years I would say, pulls down a ton of calls a year as she can jump on a call if they need people or so on. Now it's not that we are short medics, it's that when you hear her call in you probably think twice and decide not to go. She will scare people right off the rig. Mainly because she is annoying, talks a lot and I mean a lot, (about the dumbest shit I've ever heard and it all falls on deaf ears as no one even pays attention), she will argue that her treatment is correct or the most appropriate every time. The only time I will ride with her is when I have to or no one else has called in and they are short people, NEVER by choice.
Medic #2, I don't even care to know how long she has been a medic, maybe eight years or so. She's the perfect cookie cutter medic, the problem better fall into something that resembles a topic in our medical direction book, cause the patient surely won't receive anything else. She's bossy has no leadership skills and to top it all off, please continuing reading and you'll see
My very first experience with this gal was at a CPR refresher regarding the new AHA guidelines. You had to of course show your could perform and for only like a minute.
AHA instructor: "Alright, now we will go through and let everyone practice doing the new CPR, pulling our hands off the chest wall to allow for maximum recoil, any questions?"
Medic #2: "I don't do CPR, that's what I have EMTs for. Plus it hurts my wrists."
DONE, SEALED, OVER, MY FIRST OPINION OF THIS TWAT WAS FOREVER BURNED ON MY BRAIN. How dare you even utter something like that you snot nosed little prissy. Unbelievable and she is a firefighter to top it off. Yes this gal had to at one time play ruff and get dirty and pass some sort of physically agility test, but can't bother to do CPR for one minute, as if it is beneath her.
No, I'm sorry I reserve CPR for the peasant, the slightly trained chimps, you know the ones, strong back weak mind, the mouth breathers, knuckle draggers and so on. They are the ones who should be practicing, seeing as like only 2% of full arrest actually come back they might need to practice on saving a life instead of me. I just pushed the drugs like the little book tells me too. Oh squiggle line like that I push this, oh it changed to that squiggle, the book says push this next.
Thank you, that was very cathartic.
Anyway the call went relatively painless, big mouth didn't really talk to much and cookie cutter was semi-pleasant and kept to herself.
Another life saves, another check on the wall of insanity.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Old Man Fire
For those who don't know, my porthole to EMS fun is through the paid on call fire department I am a member of (we have our own ambulances of course. Generally the ratio of EMS calls to fire calls is about four or five for every one fire call. The majority being car and dumpster fires, looking at the stats fire prevention education is apparently quite successful. Although it is suspected that arson fire might rise as more people are forced from their homes due to rises int erst rates, yada yada yada. Since the chance to "play" in old man fire's world is very infrequent the next best thing is to attend a "live burn" training exercise. Now for those not in the business a live burn can mean anything from lighting wood pallets on fire in a concrete structure designed for fire training, to lighting old wrecked cars on fire. But my personal favorite is the old farm house that needs to be demolished or rebuilt. This is just such a case.
As soon as I sign up things starting sliding down hill though. One chief originally set to attend, backs out, as now I can drive and pump the fire truck. Great, just what I wanted to do, be strapped to the damn truck and miss all the fun. Next I find out my crew. One newbie know it all who's still in medic school and (see the newbie post below about the "pregnant women" below). The next is a relative of the chief and general kiss ass. Through constant mental beat downs he's slowly shaping into a good member. Beside the blood ties he is a solid firefighter, just young and naive in the world. Lastly the my personal newbie that I mentor, whom I talked into going and taking pictures as he is currently in his firefighter training and can not join in the fun just yet.
Now the department that has so graciously offered to make room for us is quite rural and as such has their own manner of conducting business. This is what I call a true fire department and they area as redneck as they come, god love em. Thankfully they have enlisted certified instructors to carry out the entire burn, without their guidance we mouth breathers would hurt ourselves. Like I said the house is a rural farm house, meaning there are not hydrants in sight, in fact the closest one is two miles away. So "drop tanks" are used. Picture a 12' x 12' swimming pool with a metal frame and tarp like bladder in which to pour water into. The water is "dropped" from a "water tender." A water tender is a fire truck made to haul water in large quantities, theirs holds 2700 gallons, mine 1500. It is then sucked out by another fire truck and then pushed into the fire lines and then hopefully onto the fire.
The comedy starts with my dumping my water. As I'm emptying the tank and chatting with my new found "water commander" friend, who might have been the class clown in high school and every other stage in his life. Anyways he takes the liberty of throwing a stack of road cones into the drop tank right next to me, which of course unleashes a nice splash directly onto me. At this point it was declared that "It was on." Over the course the day we shot each other with and fire hose we could find and of course had an absolute blast during.
ON TO THE FIRE:
My crew consisting of newbie, myself and golden boy prepare to enter the burning farm house. Pay in mind that there have been 10 previous fire in this house at that time, meaning she's hot, steamy and probably weakening before our eyes. The fire's lit, we do our walk around to size up the fire and check for anything really scary. After that newbie grabs the nozzle, with me right behind him, giving guidance and so forth. Golden boy will be making sure we have enough hose inside the house.
Here we go, the moment of truth, we're going into satan's living room. Not that my team knew, but I had asked the instructors for a "good fire," meaning multiple rooms on fire and to let us wait a little while longer before entering to let the fire grow. His only response was a large smile and a nod of the head. God I love this job. Newbie's at the door on his knees, I'm standing right behind him with the instructor to my left. By this time the entrance vestibule is rolling very nicely, flames licking out the door and over my head. Looking deeper into the house you see nothing but flames dancing, waiting for the battle with newbie. Right as newbie attempts to cool the ceiling of the vestibule with a quick shot of water the fire jumps out the front door, filling almost half of the door with a fireball. Apparently this had spooked the shit out of newbie as he is now laying on his back on the concrete steps as if he had lit a firecracker with to short of a fuse. I look towards the instructor and even though we still have masks on you can still see the smiles on our faces.
With a quick "get the hell in there" to the rookie we make entry, he knocks down the fire in the vestibule, which was only the heat and flames seeping out of the next room anyway. As he turns to look into the kitchen, which by this time is completely involved with fire, I mean floor to ceiling, he stops and attempts to shoot some water into the room and the ceiling. Only to find out his hit the nozzle and adjusted the spray to a huge fog pattern, it does nothing except wetting the door frame. Finally with much poking and a little shoving by me we enter the room. He does a good job of attacking the fire and for the most part I'm proud of him. Although he keeps saying, "I see fire" and "it's on fire should I spray it?" In between the laughter I inform him that yes, anything that is on fire can be sprayed with water. Including the floor as the smoldering pieces of the room are burning into my knees like red hot razor blades. We finally get to the stairs and try to climb them, the fire is quite intense and newbie tries quite hard to make headway. After about one minute the truck sirens all sound out in unison. Quick definition: Truck sirens mean get the fuck out and make it quick as the building might be fall down. We scramble out dragging our hose lines and accounting for everyone outside. While we were inside a portion of the roof had collapsed above us, from the inside we had never noticed, didn't hear it, nothing. But after throwing a little water on it the next crew went in and had their fun.
After a little sit down with the instructor regarding our attack we headed for the cooler and a refreshing drink. All in all I was happy with my fun, newbie did fairly well considering the amount of knee to ass convincing I had to do. He's just going through the growing pains of becoming a firefighter. I think when you join a fire department or think about putting out fires people overlook the fact that it is scary and hot, and usually hurts a little to a lot as well. You have to learn to push past your comfort level creating a new comfort level in the process. I have no doubt this fire made him a better firefighter, which is of course the entire purpose. I of course was sad as I didn't get to tame old man fire, I only instructed my newbie. I only hope that my sacrifice may save his ass once.
After that I went and threw the "water command" and the golden boy into the drop tank and yes it was full of water. One big swoop was all it took. Just about everyone was crying with laughter, even their chief.
God I love my rural brothers and sisters. In their native tongue, "that shit wouldn't fly at your department," and they are one hundred percent correct.
As soon as I sign up things starting sliding down hill though. One chief originally set to attend, backs out, as now I can drive and pump the fire truck. Great, just what I wanted to do, be strapped to the damn truck and miss all the fun. Next I find out my crew. One newbie know it all who's still in medic school and (see the newbie post below about the "pregnant women" below). The next is a relative of the chief and general kiss ass. Through constant mental beat downs he's slowly shaping into a good member. Beside the blood ties he is a solid firefighter, just young and naive in the world. Lastly the my personal newbie that I mentor, whom I talked into going and taking pictures as he is currently in his firefighter training and can not join in the fun just yet.
Now the department that has so graciously offered to make room for us is quite rural and as such has their own manner of conducting business. This is what I call a true fire department and they area as redneck as they come, god love em. Thankfully they have enlisted certified instructors to carry out the entire burn, without their guidance we mouth breathers would hurt ourselves. Like I said the house is a rural farm house, meaning there are not hydrants in sight, in fact the closest one is two miles away. So "drop tanks" are used. Picture a 12' x 12' swimming pool with a metal frame and tarp like bladder in which to pour water into. The water is "dropped" from a "water tender." A water tender is a fire truck made to haul water in large quantities, theirs holds 2700 gallons, mine 1500. It is then sucked out by another fire truck and then pushed into the fire lines and then hopefully onto the fire.
The comedy starts with my dumping my water. As I'm emptying the tank and chatting with my new found "water commander" friend, who might have been the class clown in high school and every other stage in his life. Anyways he takes the liberty of throwing a stack of road cones into the drop tank right next to me, which of course unleashes a nice splash directly onto me. At this point it was declared that "It was on." Over the course the day we shot each other with and fire hose we could find and of course had an absolute blast during.
ON TO THE FIRE:
My crew consisting of newbie, myself and golden boy prepare to enter the burning farm house. Pay in mind that there have been 10 previous fire in this house at that time, meaning she's hot, steamy and probably weakening before our eyes. The fire's lit, we do our walk around to size up the fire and check for anything really scary. After that newbie grabs the nozzle, with me right behind him, giving guidance and so forth. Golden boy will be making sure we have enough hose inside the house.
Here we go, the moment of truth, we're going into satan's living room. Not that my team knew, but I had asked the instructors for a "good fire," meaning multiple rooms on fire and to let us wait a little while longer before entering to let the fire grow. His only response was a large smile and a nod of the head. God I love this job. Newbie's at the door on his knees, I'm standing right behind him with the instructor to my left. By this time the entrance vestibule is rolling very nicely, flames licking out the door and over my head. Looking deeper into the house you see nothing but flames dancing, waiting for the battle with newbie. Right as newbie attempts to cool the ceiling of the vestibule with a quick shot of water the fire jumps out the front door, filling almost half of the door with a fireball. Apparently this had spooked the shit out of newbie as he is now laying on his back on the concrete steps as if he had lit a firecracker with to short of a fuse. I look towards the instructor and even though we still have masks on you can still see the smiles on our faces.
With a quick "get the hell in there" to the rookie we make entry, he knocks down the fire in the vestibule, which was only the heat and flames seeping out of the next room anyway. As he turns to look into the kitchen, which by this time is completely involved with fire, I mean floor to ceiling, he stops and attempts to shoot some water into the room and the ceiling. Only to find out his hit the nozzle and adjusted the spray to a huge fog pattern, it does nothing except wetting the door frame. Finally with much poking and a little shoving by me we enter the room. He does a good job of attacking the fire and for the most part I'm proud of him. Although he keeps saying, "I see fire" and "it's on fire should I spray it?" In between the laughter I inform him that yes, anything that is on fire can be sprayed with water. Including the floor as the smoldering pieces of the room are burning into my knees like red hot razor blades. We finally get to the stairs and try to climb them, the fire is quite intense and newbie tries quite hard to make headway. After about one minute the truck sirens all sound out in unison. Quick definition: Truck sirens mean get the fuck out and make it quick as the building might be fall down. We scramble out dragging our hose lines and accounting for everyone outside. While we were inside a portion of the roof had collapsed above us, from the inside we had never noticed, didn't hear it, nothing. But after throwing a little water on it the next crew went in and had their fun.
After a little sit down with the instructor regarding our attack we headed for the cooler and a refreshing drink. All in all I was happy with my fun, newbie did fairly well considering the amount of knee to ass convincing I had to do. He's just going through the growing pains of becoming a firefighter. I think when you join a fire department or think about putting out fires people overlook the fact that it is scary and hot, and usually hurts a little to a lot as well. You have to learn to push past your comfort level creating a new comfort level in the process. I have no doubt this fire made him a better firefighter, which is of course the entire purpose. I of course was sad as I didn't get to tame old man fire, I only instructed my newbie. I only hope that my sacrifice may save his ass once.
After that I went and threw the "water command" and the golden boy into the drop tank and yes it was full of water. One big swoop was all it took. Just about everyone was crying with laughter, even their chief.
God I love my rural brothers and sisters. In their native tongue, "that shit wouldn't fly at your department," and they are one hundred percent correct.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Vehicle Vs. Child
This was my first memorable traumatic call I had. I was very new to the department, I'd probably only been on a month or two, hell I wasn't even an EMT yet. But in the interest of getting acquainted with the ambulance and your team you rode with and helped with the heavy lifting so to speak. Our call came in on a beautifully sunny weekend morning, as all calls do of course, the temp was very reasonable and with rather low humidity so naturally I loved it, granted the cool weather did little to cool me off through the course of this call.
Our patient was a little boy maybe 7 or 8 y/o, who had been struck by an SUV while riding one of those little motorized scooters through his neighborhood. It was the usual scenario, kid pulled right out in front of me kind of a thing, which you could tell had really messed with the driver. On our arrival we saw an SUV parked on the rode with the typical mob on their knees around it, right as we came to the vehicle, the first responders were actually dragging the kid from under and boarding him, they had already collared him while under the vehicle. What I found really quite amazing though was the seeing what all the fathers in the neighborhood at done. I can only imagine everyone heard the brakes as the driver attempted to stop and once they saw that a little boy was now trapped underneath they all brought out their floor jacks and lifted the side of the SUV. I keep envisioning that these dads put a NASCAR pit crew to shame as the frantically jacked the vehicle up.
As I exited the ambulance and brought along all the different trauma boxes and peds boxes I was taught to, I stacked them all on top of the cot and wheeled over towards the vehicle. I was met by a frantic teammate, the type that can't hold her shit together when the going gets rough. She unfortunately does a bad job of showing that being a nurse as well as an EMT is a good thing. When she's in her hospital on her turf she can handle things just fine, but put this gal in the field and she's like Yogi running around a picnic basket. She literally throws the boxes off the cot so when can strap him to it and load him in the ambulance. I pick up the boxes and follow the crowd back to the ambulance.
Just as soon as my butt hits the seat the driver hits the gas, hard!. With a scene time of about four minutes we weren't sitting to bad, granted we had a good 15 minute transport ahead of us. We quickly work ourselves into a frenzy, getting vitals and IV's and bandages and everything else that's par for the course. I get an IV setup thrown at me to setup, by the nurse, she's still has the picnic basket syndrome cooking. I set up the line and hang it while handing the end for her to grab, which is when I realise just how fast we are moving and quickly grab the oh shit handles on the ceiling.
The patient was not doing so hot though, he would barely respond to pain and was posturing quite excessively. Looking into his eyes is one of the most memorable moments, one pupils was completely blown and you could plainly see it without even lighting it. I shine the pen light into his left eye and they both start rocking from side to side, (just plain creepy man). A medic made a reference to dolls eyes and it made sense but also gave a clue as to the amount of damage this kids head had suffered. I don't recall his vitals being terrible bad giving the situation, the main injury being his head. He did nothing but rythmically moan the entire ride.
We arrive at the hospital, we've done everything we could do, now it's time for the docs to take over and work their magic. I was amazed at the ER style entrance we were given. Usually we unload our own patients, card ourselves through the doors and down the hall and wait for the charge nurse to get to us and then deliver our patient to a less than patient nurse. This time was a nice change of pace. We backed into our spot, kick open the doors to find the hospital doors being held open, with additional people to unload the cot. Everythings unhooked and ready to roll, we stride down the hall and right into the movie Outbreak, everyone is gowned, gloved and masked up, ready to dive in. We throw this kid to the wolves as it were and my medics give their reports'. In hind sight I so should have stayed to watch them work on this kid, at that time it would have been quite eye opening to see all that they do.
I return to the vacant shell of our ambulance that prior to this call was properly stocked and mostly clean. Wrappers covered every inch on horizontal space. Used alcohol pads, sterile water and 4x4's lay in an emisis basin. Our version of spent shell casing from the battle that was fought. We cleaned mostly in silence.
I didn't know what to feel about this call. I could not come to grips with the fact that it might not have meant anything to me. I don't have children, sure my sisters have kids but I don't have consistent contact with them that would breed any empathy. You could feel the fear in my teammates though, they had kids and through their eyes I could see the thoughts turning in their heads.
I certainly learn a lot. I act very cool under pressure. I actually was praised for that, they said I never wavered and remained calm, did what had to be done and did it quickly. Which being the one who likes to please, I found it a wonderful compliment.
I remember being floored thinking about my perspective of this call. I was really a forth person and did little in the way of patient care, but I was able to watch the this entire story unfold. We truly were a team, individually we might be weak but together we were a solid force to be felted. That day God pushed... and we pushed back.
Our patient was a little boy maybe 7 or 8 y/o, who had been struck by an SUV while riding one of those little motorized scooters through his neighborhood. It was the usual scenario, kid pulled right out in front of me kind of a thing, which you could tell had really messed with the driver. On our arrival we saw an SUV parked on the rode with the typical mob on their knees around it, right as we came to the vehicle, the first responders were actually dragging the kid from under and boarding him, they had already collared him while under the vehicle. What I found really quite amazing though was the seeing what all the fathers in the neighborhood at done. I can only imagine everyone heard the brakes as the driver attempted to stop and once they saw that a little boy was now trapped underneath they all brought out their floor jacks and lifted the side of the SUV. I keep envisioning that these dads put a NASCAR pit crew to shame as the frantically jacked the vehicle up.
As I exited the ambulance and brought along all the different trauma boxes and peds boxes I was taught to, I stacked them all on top of the cot and wheeled over towards the vehicle. I was met by a frantic teammate, the type that can't hold her shit together when the going gets rough. She unfortunately does a bad job of showing that being a nurse as well as an EMT is a good thing. When she's in her hospital on her turf she can handle things just fine, but put this gal in the field and she's like Yogi running around a picnic basket. She literally throws the boxes off the cot so when can strap him to it and load him in the ambulance. I pick up the boxes and follow the crowd back to the ambulance.
Just as soon as my butt hits the seat the driver hits the gas, hard!. With a scene time of about four minutes we weren't sitting to bad, granted we had a good 15 minute transport ahead of us. We quickly work ourselves into a frenzy, getting vitals and IV's and bandages and everything else that's par for the course. I get an IV setup thrown at me to setup, by the nurse, she's still has the picnic basket syndrome cooking. I set up the line and hang it while handing the end for her to grab, which is when I realise just how fast we are moving and quickly grab the oh shit handles on the ceiling.
The patient was not doing so hot though, he would barely respond to pain and was posturing quite excessively. Looking into his eyes is one of the most memorable moments, one pupils was completely blown and you could plainly see it without even lighting it. I shine the pen light into his left eye and they both start rocking from side to side, (just plain creepy man). A medic made a reference to dolls eyes and it made sense but also gave a clue as to the amount of damage this kids head had suffered. I don't recall his vitals being terrible bad giving the situation, the main injury being his head. He did nothing but rythmically moan the entire ride.
We arrive at the hospital, we've done everything we could do, now it's time for the docs to take over and work their magic. I was amazed at the ER style entrance we were given. Usually we unload our own patients, card ourselves through the doors and down the hall and wait for the charge nurse to get to us and then deliver our patient to a less than patient nurse. This time was a nice change of pace. We backed into our spot, kick open the doors to find the hospital doors being held open, with additional people to unload the cot. Everythings unhooked and ready to roll, we stride down the hall and right into the movie Outbreak, everyone is gowned, gloved and masked up, ready to dive in. We throw this kid to the wolves as it were and my medics give their reports'. In hind sight I so should have stayed to watch them work on this kid, at that time it would have been quite eye opening to see all that they do.
I return to the vacant shell of our ambulance that prior to this call was properly stocked and mostly clean. Wrappers covered every inch on horizontal space. Used alcohol pads, sterile water and 4x4's lay in an emisis basin. Our version of spent shell casing from the battle that was fought. We cleaned mostly in silence.
I didn't know what to feel about this call. I could not come to grips with the fact that it might not have meant anything to me. I don't have children, sure my sisters have kids but I don't have consistent contact with them that would breed any empathy. You could feel the fear in my teammates though, they had kids and through their eyes I could see the thoughts turning in their heads.
I certainly learn a lot. I act very cool under pressure. I actually was praised for that, they said I never wavered and remained calm, did what had to be done and did it quickly. Which being the one who likes to please, I found it a wonderful compliment.
I remember being floored thinking about my perspective of this call. I was really a forth person and did little in the way of patient care, but I was able to watch the this entire story unfold. We truly were a team, individually we might be weak but together we were a solid force to be felted. That day God pushed... and we pushed back.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
The Pitfalls of Earning a Paycheck
Do you ever just sit at work and contemplate if jail could really be any worse? Here I sit in my cube, yes I'm only a paid on call EMT and firefighter, and it feels like a jail cell. At least I'd get fed on a regular basis if I were incarcerated, granted I guess I enjoy using the restroom by myself and the nightly comforts of my girlfriend as opposed to the great man-gina.
But damn man the walls are closing in.
But damn man the walls are closing in.
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