Yes, I'm leaving him.
I was told that I'm leaving my calm, cool, and collected partner to do to a night shift truck. This sucks. My new partner is a scary medic. Very DWPA (stands for "death with paramedic assistance") But I can't not say much for it against policy to speak badly of co workers. Damn the man. But I will say I am not looking forward to my next 7 shifts. However it's just seven shifts, that's like 84 hours and if you subtract the 4 hours need for me to be off for a wedding I shooting it's only 80 hours. I can stand 80 hours. I can be very patient. (okay I'm just trying to convince myself...Damn...Not working)
So I had another unconscious on the sidewalk. This time he was breathing. Always a good start, patient is breathing...Check...Patient has a pulse...Check...Patient smells of Wild Irish Rose...Check...Airway, breathing, circulation...All intact. At least his drunk buddy didn't poke him a stick. He just hung back watching us work. So we get this guy backboarded and into the back of the ambulance. He's got shallow breathing and pinpoint pupils...Ah light bulb! Could it be? An overdose? So I gave some Narcan...No such luck patient is still unconscious. So next in my little bag of medical tricks, Dextrose AKA sugar water. Score! Man's blood glucose level was 21, almost 80 below what it should be. 25g later I have my patient waking up quite nicely, still highly intoxicated, but able to talk, not clearly mind you, but still. I worked my magic and saved yet another from the iron jaws of death. My mother should be so proud.