May 20, 2013

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The Fishiest Call I Ever Ran

May 1, 2013 by 2 Comments

fish pondSo there I was, minding my own damn business, when the tones go off over the radio. My partner and I hop in the ambulance and immediately crank up the heater as the outside temperature was 28 degrees (Fahrenheit, for all your blokes across the pond). We arrived at the residence of an elderly male that had a complaint of abdominal pain and requested to be transported to a hospital about 40 minutes away from his house (St. Furthest as The Happy Medic would describe it).

Getting to this patient wasn’t easy, as the hallway and living room made maneuvering a gurney very difficult. With me being the lazy bastard creative gurney navigator that I am, I found a route through the back door that seemed much easier than attempting to bring the patient back through the front of the house.

After loading the patient on the gurney, we started through the back door and found that there was no lighting whatsoever in the back yard.

No big deal, I got this.

I instruct my partner to continue forward as I reach for my flashlight. About the time I heard him say “Woah!”, I felt my left foot slipping into what initially felt like a puddle of water……only my foot kept slipping until I was up passed my waist in water. I somehow managed to push the gurney away from me to avoid it falling in on top of me. The next thing I knew, the chief of the volunteer fire department that responded with us was on his stomach trying to grab me, and my partner was pulling the gurney away and asking if I was OK. I quickly jumped out of the freezing water and continued about what I was doing like nothing happened. I turned to my partner and said. “I’m fine, just needed to go for a quick dip to cool off”. I figured I might as well own it with pride.

I had fallen into a fish pond in the patient’s back yard that I obviously was unable to see. I was covered in water, and miserable. My partner suggested that I call the on-duty supervisor and have another ambulance responded so that I could go back to the station to dry off. I respectfully declined and insisted that we continue to St. Furthest.

After 40 minutes of misery, we arrived at the hospital and offloaded our patient. Still soaked in fish-pond water, I stood next to the receiving nurse – completely oblivious to my condition – and gave a bedside report. The conversation went something like this:

After finishing my verbal report…..

Nurse: “Do you have a medication list”

I reach in my pocket and pull out a soaked medication list and slap it on the counter….water and all. 

Nurse: “What the hell happened to to this?”

Sean: “It fell in the fish pond.”

Nurse: (looking at me for the first time) “Whaaa……what the HELL happened to you?”

Sean: “I went in after it.”

Nurse: “Are you kidding me? Why would you do that?”

Sean: “I know how you nurses get when we don’t bring in a med list. It’s called dedication. Have a good night.” (utilizing the biggest shit-eating grin I could come up with).

Not another word was spoken to me from anyone in that ER. I walked out of there like a boss, grabbed a towel on the way out, threw it on the front seat of the ambulance, and looked right at my partner who was still looking at me with disbelief.

Sean: “Drive it like you fucking stole it, I’m freezing”.

Partner: “You know….the only thing that could have made that better, was if you had come out of the water with a fish in your mouth”.

Sean: “Fuck you”

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Sit Wait and Talk – Part 2

February 11, 2012 by Leave a Comment

Hopefully you read the original story about my SWAT standby that resulted in the fulfillment of 2 items on my “EMS Bucket List”. If not, go read it and come back.

After posting the story, my old partner that I worked with that day contacted me to remind me of a another part of the event. I’m not sure how I forgot, but my lapsed memory caused an important part of the story to be left out.

I forgot to mention that the captain on the engine company had rang the doorbell of a nearby house to ask if it was OK to use their phone book to find a coupon for a nearby pizza place. He was successful in his mission and saved us a couple bucks. To top it off, the residents of that house felt bad for us sitting outside for so long and actually baked us cookies and brought us some lemonade after our pizza arrived.

Another thing he added to the story, was photographic proof that I didn’t realize existed. At the time, cell-phone cameras weren’t anything like they are today, but you can clearly see our pizza and my hand giving the “thumbs-up” on a well executed plan.

A special thanks goes out to my old partner who’s identity will remain protected.

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Sit Wait And Talk

February 11, 2012 by 4 Comments

I have always joked that SWAT stood for “sit wait and talk”, mostly because that’s what we typically do when assigned to SWAT standbys. I have probably been assigned to more of these than I can count and have never actually had to provide any kind of medical-aid. Well, I did have a bystander walk up and request to go to the hospital for abdominal pain once, but I don’t really think that counts.

When working in busy systems, I usually see the downtime as a chance to get caught up on paperwork. Sometimes these standbys can go on for several hours, and on one occasion, it lasted my entire shift. We logged on, immediately got assigned the standby, and had to be relieved at the end of our shift. I accomplished 2 of my “EMS Bucket List” items that night, one of which should have gotten me fired.

So here’s the story:

There I was, minding my own business, logging on for the night shift. This was my first job in EMS, but I had been working at the small service just long enough to get over the nervous feeling that you have when you first start in the field, but not quite long enough to get passed the stupidity.

We were assigned a standby at a nearby “SWAT” standoff and were told that we couldn’t use any radio communication. That worked out well for us, being that we inherited the long-standing dislike for EMS dispatchers that had been handed down over several generations. We arrived at our scene and were directed towards a staging area that was supposed to be a safe distance from the “action”. Just as we put the vehicle in park, I got to thinking about how I should have brought my lunch. I figured it was no big deal as this thing would be over with in a hour or so and we could grab a bite on our way to post.

Fast forward about 4 hours and you would find us sitting in silence staring awkwardly at the fire-engine crew that parked facing us. They were doing the same. We were hesitant to go talk with them because we didn’t know this particular crew at all, plus they didn’t seem very social.

Partner: “Let’s go talk to those guys, I’m bored out of my mind”

Sean: “I don’t know, man. They are just sitting there doing nothing. They don’t look very sociable. Seems kinda weird and awkward to me.”

Partner: “We’re doing the same thing, dude.”

We finally got out and walked over to the engine. The crew hopped out and exchanged a few words with us, but not without a few awkward moments of silence. I looked around and it seemed like nobody was doing anything. I started to wonder if this thing was ever going to end.

Fast forward 2 more hours and you would find us and the fire crew laughing hysterically over some “war-stories”. You would also see us scheming up a plan to get some food. Nothing was within walking distance, so we starting calling people that we knew to see if they could make a food run for everyone. No such luck at 10:30pm. This is when I decided to check off an item on that bucket-list I mentioned earlier.

I had made it my goal that one day, I would order a pizza to the scene of a call. Don’t ask me how I came up with that goal, I just did. This was the perfect moment to execute the plan. What better scene than a SWAT standby? Unfortunately, most pizza places were closed. After about 30 minutes of calling around I finally got a hold of one that was open for another hour. Only, convincing them to deliver to the scene of the SWAT standby was going to be a bit more difficult than I had thought. Here’s what you might have heard had you been watching me order the pizza:

“Yea, I would like to order a pizza……um, well, I don’t really have an address, you see I’m working on an ambulance at a SWAT standby….no this isn’t a joke sir, we have been here for hours and we would like to order a pizza……it’s at the corner of 10th and Henderson, but I would probably come in from the east to avoid getting near the scene…..oh yeah, it’s totally safe, we are blocks away from the incident. I don’t even think bullets travel that far…..”

And it just continued on from there.

Our pizza finally did arrive, and we pulled out the gurney to setup our buffet line. We had pizzas, sodas, bread sticks, and hot wings, all lined up on the gurney. Of course, no good plan like this would be complete without my supervisor pulling up. After being at this standby for nearly 7 hours, he decided to come check on us. He walked up, looked at the gurney with all the food, looked at me, then back at the gurney, then back at me to deliver a silent stare for about a good 20 seconds. Without saying a word, he grabbed 2 pieces of pizza and a coke, got back in his vehicle, and took off without saying a word.

We stood around awkwardly as my partner and I didn’t quite know what to make of it. We finally came to the conclusion that he probably wouldn’t have taken any food if he planned on getting us in trouble, so we continued about our business of swapping stories and killing time.

Shortly after our supervisor’s visit, one of SWAT officers walked up. He looked big and mean enough to turn us into another topping on the pizza. Unfortunately, like previously mentioned, I had yet to graduate from the “being stupid” phase of my EMS career. My partner inquired about the incident and we were informed that a man had barricaded himself inside a travel trailer in his driveway. The officer then informed us that our pizza looked tempting.

This is where the stupid part comes in. 

I must have felt invincible after getting a pass from my supervisor, because I told the officer: “Come on, man. We took up a collection earlier, you should have pitched in. By the way, if that guy is locked inside a trailer, why not just hook it up to a truck and tow his ass to jail?” He moved in just close enough to invade my comfort zone and said: “How about this, Kid? How about I throw your dumb-ass in the trailer with him? Got any more advice for me?”

His booming voice shut us all up instantly. After a moment of awkward silence, I quietly replied: “Would you like pepperoni or combination, sir?”

He turned towards the pizza, grabbed a couple slices, smiled and walked back to the incident.

The Bucket List

The 2 items I checked off that night were ordering a pizza and going an entire shift without transporting anyone. The 2nd one was bound to happen eventually, and has happened several times since. As far as the pizza incident goes, I got lucky. It was stupid, unprofessional, and I should have been fired. That would have been a foolish way to lose my job, especially with how hard it was at the time to find ambulance services that were hiring.

The upside to the story? I got 2 items checked off my list :)

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Community CPR

December 19, 2011 by 2 Comments

So there I was, minding my own business, when we get toned out for a vehicle accident with “multiple victims”. On our way to the call, our MDT pops up with an update that “bystander CPR” is in progress. Had this have been on an interstate or any long stretch of road, I would have most likely been expecting some serious injuries and possibly a DOA. However, this was on a residential street.

We arrived on scene to find 2 vehicles involved. One was pulled off to the side with it’s flashers on, and the other – a late model Chevy Impala with large, chrome, custom rims and some “sparkly” purple paint – was completely blocking the street. Minor damage was noted to both vehicles. No airbag deployment, no passenger space intrusion, no skid marks, no blah blah blah blah found.

A glance to the left showed all occupants of vehicle #1 standing on the sidewalk. The driver was holding a cellphone to his head with one hand and rubbing his forehead with the other. A glance to the right revealed the driver of the Impala standing outside the passenger door, reaching in and pumping on the chest of the passenger yelling; “Don’t leave me bro! I can’t let you go like this!”. The passenger? Well, he too was yelling…….between chest compressions; “Stop – I’m – Not –  F*^$ing - Dead”.

We quickly intervened and ceased resuscitation efforts. The police also intervened and arrested our Good Samaritan on DUI charges. As we wheeled the passenger / blunt-trauma victim to the back of the ambulance, he shouted towards the police car “I love you bro! You saved my life!”

I don’t know about you, but I have a sneaking suspicion that this wasn’t what the American Heart Association had in mind they started promoting community CPR.

 

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1,752,000

February 13, 2011 by 2 Comments

That number will make sense in a minute…..

Yesterday the ambulance company I work for celebrated 40 years of uninterrupted 911 service. The employees enjoyed good food, games for the kids, displays of antique EMS equipment, raffle prizes, presentations from several members of local, state and federal government and of course some killer live music (with yours truly on vocals and lead guitar). We even had our helicopter land in the street in front of the station.

I don’t make it a habit to talk about my place of employment on this blog, but I feel it necessary to give credit where credit is due. 40 years of service is quite impressive when you think about it. Especially for private enterprise. The company started with a single ambulance that was run out of the owners house back in 1975. We started the first Paramedic service for Kern County in 1975, and continue to serve as the largest pre-hospital ALS provider in the county. We have done this all with a single-medic system. It’s pretty impressive when you think about starting a company with 1 in-service ambulance and eventually becoming one of the largest (if not the largest) private ambulance service in California.

All of the employees were given a challenge at the celebration. We were to try and guess the number of calls that the company has run in 40 years. The winner got to take home a 40″ Sony LED TV. Of course I saw this as my opportunity to shine. I saw people making up numbers like “3,000,000″ or “500,000″. They had no clue at what they were guessing, so I knew I had a chance. I took a few minutes and thought about the amount of calls I run every day. I took the low average and multiplied that by the amount of metro units we staff daily. I did the same for our rural units. I added those numbers together and rounded up to a daily average of 120 calls. I knew this was low-ball number but I figured it would be the best route to go to make up for the early years before we expanded to to other communities. I multiplied this by 365 and then by 40 and came up with 1,752,000. The number sounded reasonable so I put my name on it and turned it in. Well, as it turns out, we actually ran 1,708,000 calls. AAANNNND as it also turns out, I had the closest guess and won the TV.

So there you have it, 1,752,000 is now my lucky number. Now if you will excuse me, I have zombies to go kill on my NEW TV.

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So There I Was

November 30, 2010 by Leave a Comment

A recent post over at the “Notes From Mosquito Hill” blog reflected on a story of what happens when you violate rule #4 in my post about the “EMS Gods“. This of course compelled me to share my own story of what happens when you betray the almighty ones.

It was my first day as a paramedic. I had just received the long awaited call that informed me that the State of California had issued me a paramedic number and that my county card was available to be picked up at the office. I jumped up, put on some clothes and called into to work. This was actually supposed to be my day off, but I was excited to finally work a shift as a paramedic. I called our scheduler and had him put me in an overtime shift that started at 09:00. A quick stop by the county EMS office and I was official.

I arrived at work (45 minutes early), checked out my gear and waited for my partner to arrive. Even though I had been married to my protocol book for the last 570 hours of training, I still pulled it out and reviewed it one more time. For the first time, I was actually excited to hit the streets and use my newly acquired skills.

My partner showed up and we logged on over the radio. Just as I was running call scenarios through my mind, I was interrupted to hear that we were being assigned a long distance transfer that needed to be picked up within the hour.

“A long distance transfer? Are you F#$king kidding me? It’s my first day as a medic and they are going to assign me this horse sh*&?” I said this and many other phrases that I would soon regret. My tantrum was suddenly stopped with a message on our MDT that read “Are you really that upset about it?”. As it turns out, my knee was pressed up against our private channel mic for the whole company, including dispatch, to hear. “Well we just sealed our fate” muttered my partner, who I’m sure was just thrilled that he was assigned my car today.

Well the good news was, this transfer should have taken all day so I should have been safe from any real repercussions.

Not so much.

We arrived at the hospital to find out that we were taking a patient from the ICU that required a balloon pump, vent and 4 IV pumps. Not only did we not have the room for all that equipment, but there was no way in hell the nurse and RT that came with the patient was going to fit. After about 25 minutes of playing EMS Tetris, we managed to fit everyone and everything in it’s place.

About 2 minutes into our trip, the RT let out a sigh and said “this is a disaster, I should have stayed home”. I looked at him without saying a word and returned to my documentation.

I can see that me and him are going to get along JUST FINE……NOT

A couple minutes later, my favorite RT decided to voice his opinion once again. “Well let’s hope this poor bastard doesn’t code, because we can’t help him”.

“OK dude, if your are going to keep making comments, I’ll turn this rig around and drop you off at the hospital”, I replied.

Did I just say that? My mom would be proud….

After about 10 minutes of awkward silence, he decided to bring up the topic again. “Well think about it, we are packed in here like sardines, how do you plan on working this guy if he codes?”. I set down my paperwork and looked at him like my father would when I interrupted his morning reading of the almighty newspaper and said, “Well let’s see, you are going to bag through the ET tube that’s ALREADY IN PLACE, she’s going to take turns with me doing compressions, and we are going to pick one of the 6 ALREADY established IV lines to push drugs through. But since he’s stable for transport, I don’t think we need to worry”.

I was about 1 more comment away from either trading places with the patient or kicking the RT out the back door. This was of course until I had a bigger problem on my hands. About half way through the trip, my partner suddenly pulled over and vomited on himself. “Are you okay up there?” I yelled through the dividing window. “Yea, I just get car sick sometimes”.

Car sick? On a freeway? When your driving?

He assured me that he was well enough to finish driving, which I guess was a good thing as our nearest ambulance was now over an hour away. This was of course, better than than alternative that our RT gave us. “Let me up front, I’ll drive”, he demanded just before we headed back on the freeway.

Yea right pal, the last person I want in charge of our safety is you.

We made it to a hospital (notice I didn’t use the word “the”), drug out the gurney and all the gear all the way up to the ICU only to find that we drove to the wrong hospital. “I told you I should have drove”, mutters the RT. If I didn’t have the little ounce of self control that I did, he would have found himself with the word “Zoll” permanently imprinted on the side of his head.

We finally did get to the correct hospital and dropped off the patient without any further incident. So now came the much anticipated food stop on the way back to town. I hopped up front any told my partner to stop at the nearest Tommy’s burgers. I consider it a sin to pass on a Tommy’s chili-burger. We pulled up, I hopped out and opened the back door to let the nurse out. The RT stood up and managed to say “What? Tommy’s burgers??! I’m a vegitari….” before I could slam the back door shut. “He’ll be fine in there, let’s go”.

I learned a valuable and hard lesson on my very first call as a paramedic. Messing with the EMS gods never pays off.

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So there I was…

November 15, 2010 by 1 Comment

We were sitting at one of our usual posting locations around 9:30pm. We had been on shift for 4 1/2 hours and had yet to receive a call or a post move. This wasn’t unusual for this shift as at the time, I was assigned the first half of the week. Most of the excitement was enjoyed by our counterparts working the 2nd-half night shifts.

Up until now, there wasn’t anything spectacular about this evening. My partner and I were eating the same fast food, listening to the same talk-radio show and talking about the same BS as usual. We had no idea that we were about to get a critical lesson in customer service.

So there we were, parked in front of the same drug store that we usually park in front of, and sometimes shop around in during our hours of down-time. The night was quiet as could be until a blacked-out car pulled in front of the building. 3 men jumped out and one remained in the vehicle. They quickly put on ski-masks and 2 of them grabbed shotguns from the back seat.

I saw this and gave my partner the “check this sh*& out” punch to the shoulder. The look on his face was almost as entertaining as what we were seeing unfold.

Not wanting to become a target, we backed the unit up out of the way while we notified dispatch of the incident and requested for law enforcement to respond. Now the right thing to do would have been to leave the area immediately. But unfortunately, our curiosity over powered our common sense.

We watched the robbers storm into the store, and continued to watch the show through the large glass windows. They immediately ran to the cash registers, only to find that all of the employees were nowhere to be found. One guy ran up and down the isles, which I’m presuming was looking for an employee to operate the cash drawer. Another was keeping watch at the front door while the 3rd was frantically trying to figure out how to work the register.

The robbers now shared something in common with me and my partner. We had both now experienced the notoriously bad customer service that went along with the night shift at that store. Our silence broke when my partner said, “I can’t believe it. Their service is so bad, you can’t even find someone to rob”. We started laughing hysterically as the team finally gave up and fled to the car empty handed and took off.

We were interviewed by the police shortly after and confirmed our theory that the employees of the store really had no idea what just happened.

So what’s the moral of the story?

Bad customer service affects everyone, including criminals.

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