Sick and Tired of the BS

Now we all should know by now I am a very laid back medic. Rarely getting worked up over much of anything. Sure, my hands tend to shake through bad calls, not out of nervousness, but because the adrenaline makes me. I can usually work through it by just sitting back for half a second and saying to myself "Self...Honey...It' ain't your emergency" On the outside I'm cool medic. I'm Eh...It's just VTach Medic. On the inside I'm going "Someone should really call the paramedics... oh crap I am the paramedic." But Thats another post on another day. Today, whoa, was let's see what else we can find to bitch about day. And to top it off I have whatever the respiratory crud from hell is going around. I bought my partner three bottles of cucumber foaming hand sanitizer and a tube of Airboure and a can of Lysol that I made him use every hour today because damnit if he's gonna get sick too. Anyways, Bitch at the Medic day...good Lord, seriously. I have other things, more important things to worry about than where my partner's name plate is. Like where are the Narc Keys and are they still attached to my hip? Seriously we have already discussed that fact that it is missing and that it is getting remade. I sometimes feel like I'm in the movie Office Space...Yes, I have seen the memo on the TPS reports and no... I don't need another copy. I have 8 bosses, Bob...EIGHT. Okay, so we are out of 20 gauge INTs. I didn't;t get by our supply cabinet this morning. It's cool really. Everyone will either get an 18 Gauge or a 22 gauge or just won't get an IV. The world is not crumbling or coming to an end. Chicken Little, my friend, the sky is not, in fact, falling. We have plenty of oxygen and all the ways to deliver it, drugs and all the ways to give them, and the monitor/difibrillator is still sitting on the bench seat so I'm cool. I have all I need. My boots are a bit scuffed and my uniform shirt has a few drops of coffee on it leftover from a little spillage when we hit that bump at 45mph, but I still am ever the professional. I still speak to you, my patients with kindness and confidence. I may have no idea what's wrong with you (as what was the case the other night with my actually unconscious/ unresponsive 18 year old with perfect vitals and no reason to unconscious) but I will treat you as to the best of my ability and haul ass to the hospital if needed. So With all that being said...Very few things piss me off or get me worked up as rudeness. Don't yell at me unnecessarily. Don't speak to me like a child. Don't hang up on me. And don't EVER call a supervisor without talking to ME about what I did wrong first. It's childish and like tattling. I hate getting a phone call at home several hours or even days later from a white shirt bitching...er, discussing... that I am not allowed to be at a station when the other crew is home when I have forgotten all about staying that extra ten minutes at a station because I was shooting the shit the with crew and fire guys. I'm very respectful to you on the phone, I expect the same respect to be shown to me thank you very much. I state again, Chicken Little about the sky..NOT falling. We can all get along. Just show me the same kindness, patience, and respect I show you and we will have no problems.

Smile.

Smile.
Originally uploaded by artist in the ambulance 190.

Distract and play

We as paramedics get caught up sometimes in the swirling around us. Lots of people yelling at you from all directions from your 2 year old patient to the patient's freaking out mother to the fire/ medic first resonders who were on scene first to the other kids who saw the patient fall and then subsequently started seizing. HOLY SHIT PEOPLE QUIT YELLING AT ME! Okay one at a time. FIrst Thing...Mom... your little one is alert, awake and now telling me that she is two years old and her favorite color is pink. I can't go anywhere until I find out what happened. Quit yelling at me to start driving I have a Fireman hanging on to my bumper. Quit freaking out because when she sees you freaking out...she freaks out...now hold this oxygen mask right here.
Now...Fire Guy...Give me the short story...
Now Partner...Drive before this mom starts to yell at me some more that I'm not moving fast enough.
Phew...
This is what I had to deal with today. This 2 year old fell and hit head...HARD on the concrete driveway. Had what sounded like a seizure following fall and breif LOC. But on arrival of us, kid was CAO to normal mental for age. ANd did tell me she was 2 years old and in fact her favorite color was pink. She did not like me for about 30 seconds following a BGL check until I redememed myself with Elmo stickers, which she kept a death grip on in her little hand for the rest of the trip. Mom at one point asked why I wasn't doing anything "You know? medical?" Thats when I looked at her and go "I know it looks like I'm doing nothing, singing and talking and asking your daughter stupid questions like what color is my stethescope, But as I ask them I'm checking her mental status. She has no idea what day it is or who the president is. But she know who Elmo and Big Bird is and that who on these stickers. And she know who you are. And she knows her favorite color is pink. So if she answers those questions, she has a normal mental status for a 2 year old. And that is a very good thing. Means that there is a a very slim chance of a head injury. Also her Heart rate is right where it should be and her pupils are equal and reactive. I'm doing more things "medical" singing with her than you think. I can't do a exam with her screaming crying now can I?" That got mom to shut up. I was more than just an "Ambulance Driver" at that point. We got the child to the hospital. Gave turnover to the nurses.

You have to learn that with kids...distract. Play. Sing. Clap. Anything to get thier minds off the fact that you have needles. I particularly like stickers. Elmo Stickers are a huge hit with the under 5 set.

roamers

System Status Management. I haven't decided if I like it or not. I'm on one of our three "roaming" trucks. Meaning I have gotten to know alot of parking lots and street corners. Now I don't mind the street corners. In fact, if it keeps the non roaming trucks in their station instead of driving around and out of parking lots...I say...Send me to the parking lot of the WalMart on Main, I'll sit. I've got an iPod with the entire second season of No Reservations and the seventh season of The First 48. Plug that bitch in the cigarette lighter and I'm good. Thats what I'm here for. I'll even pick up the radio and remind dispatch that "Hey Y'all, we are right here!" when they lose track of where they put us and sends the downtown truck to the island we are sitting on. But what I don't get is they whole we can't be at the station when the truck that is STATIONED at that station is home. Take today for instance...We were sent to way out there..then that truck came home. The dispatcher called the station and goes..."Is the roamer there? If they are tell them they have to leave." When the crew asked where to send us, the reply was..."Anywhere in your district is fine but just not your station." Are you kidding me? Really? So we left, and went two blocks away to the local pizza joint and got a couple slices and cherry cokes. Its ridiculuas really. But So goes it.

Other than that one issue though...I think I do like it. We drive around. I've seen alot of the city that I might normally miss because I'm stuck at a station all day. Last shift we drove to the waterfront and sat and ate lunch there. You just don't do stuff like that when you work at a station. So its not so bad I guess. Could be worse...I could be working INSIDE. ::shudder::

oh and PS...

Steve Berry thinks I'm Cool.

Love your stuff. You are one sick medic and I respect that
Best Regards,
Steve Berry

4:13 PM

did nothing

So I was back to the streets today. The back problem was short lived, fixed with a couple of flexarils and lortabs. Thank God for that. Not too busy today, just one call. A seizure at a local supermarket resulting in a calm ride to the hospital with a postictal man who kept repeating himself. The rest of the day was spent sitting on various street corners discussing with my partner, who eats more discusting stuff, Andrew Zimmer or Anthony Bourdain. (I prefer Tony B. to the other but I just happen to like his crass, cynical attitude towards everything) Everyday can't be filled with lifesaving shocks to the heart. So there we sat for 12 hours, breathing disiel fuel, talking about fermented shark, pig entrails, and slaughtering goats and how I would never put half that stuff anywhere near my mouth. (I have been watching WAY too much of Anthony Bourdain's show on the Travel channel) Boring day really. One needs days like this though. You can't have balls to the walls days every shift, or else one would go nuts in this line of work. You gotta have sparatic do nothing days. Where you sit. And do nothing. And talk about...well...fermented shark, and pig entrails, and goat sluaghtering

The Beach

The Beach
Originally uploaded by artist in the ambulance 190.

Twisted Tree

Twisted Tree
Originally uploaded by artist in the ambulance 190.

oh crap

"Are you fucking kidding me!" Was the thought that went through my head as I paced outside the hospital. Over and over that one phrase. I had just got done moving over this fat ass bullshit "I got rear ended because I was talking on my cell phone, wasn't paying attention, had to slam on breaks so in turn caused the car behind to do them same and they still hit me but now I have bullshit neck/back pain, so I'm now going to sue the ass off those poor college kids who hit me" MVA patient from my stretcher to the hospital bed. Now as many of my faithful readers know, I am very conscious of my body movements because of my history (I have had back surgery at the ripe old age of 27). Well, this time even though I was very aware of what I was doing, I still strained my back. I knew it the second I did it. I felt that pain. That pain I was once very familar with. Now thank God it was not pain the shot down my leg. Thats Disc, you need surgery pain. This was muscle tighting and screaming at me pain. So I took the stretcher outside and paced. And this is where we came in "Are you fucking kidding me?" So I called my supervisor and Safety officer. And went in to get seen by the county doc. I'm getting better the Flexaril has helped ALOT, which is a very good sign. That means its muscle, not disc or nerve. So I get a couple days off rest the old back. I have the spine of a 60 year old. So I sit and I rest and I enjoy the drugs. Until monday when I go back to the Doc and hopefully get cleared to go back to work.