!@#$% You Drug Companies

Been working my fingers to the bone recently. My normal shift is 36 hours right now. Sounds alot worse than it is though. It ususally goes I work the first 12 on a busy urban truck, run 9-12 calls then I travel almost 40 miles out to the islands run maybe 2 calls in the last 24 hours. So sleep is easy out there. In fact yesterday I ran one call then we made it back to the station where I then slept until almost 2030. So no case of the poor mes. You alsmost feel bad taking the systems money, getting pain to sleep and all. Almost. Then you remember what EMS stands for. Earn Money Sleeping.

Quick change of subject...this is something tah really chaps my ass...

I have Asthma. I take Albuterol. I get two MDIs for 6 bucks. Well... I used to get two MDIs for 6 bucks. I went to get my refill the other day and apparently they changed the canister that the inhalers come in. Changed the propellant or something. My new inhaler was 52 bucks and some change. "52 Dollars?!?" I said the the pharmacist. "52 DOLLARS for ALBUTEROL!?! Are you high? Have you guys been snorting the Vicoden back there or something?" My brand name Migraine meds are even that much. This is for just plain ol Albuterol. I refused to pay it. I still have a puffer thats about half full. I'll suck that thing dry before I pay that much for what should noramlly be a very cheap drug. It's cheap like asprin's cheap. What the hell is this world coming too that I, a hard working American, who works in healthcare, who has great health insureance otherwise, has to pay 52 dollars for what any Medicaid recipiant can get for less than $4. But I digress... Just because Warrick Pharamaceuticals is "going green" with some new fancy propellant, they think they can rape the American people and charge this obscene amount for what is a life-saving drug. This is no Viagra. People who use Albuterol use it because without it their airways tighten up and they could die. It's not like the asthmatics of the world can go "Fuck You Drug Companies, Shove it up your assess HMOs, I just not gonna take it, see how you like them apples!" Because they would be doing it while on a ventilator. And as dramatic as that would be, it's nearly impossible to talk with a tube shoved down your throat. So we can only do one thing and pay 52 dollars for a MDI, or 85 dollars for Verapamil (a cheap Calcuim Channel Blocker used to treat hypertension, among other things, like my migraines) or 120 dollars for 8 pills of Imitrex a month. (yes, That is what they wanted to charge me for my Migraine RX before I paid my annual $100 deductable, which is also insane, but again I digress) It's not fair. I already pay almost 90 dollars a month for health insureance. I pay my deductables and co-pays. Why is it now I being made to dig deeping in my pocket for my medications that I need to survive. Are these drug companies not getting enough of my money.

Girl...what you call your Husband?

We were busy little things. Running all over the city, picking up people from all walks of life. Okay I lie, it was only one kind of walk, the downtown ghetto pimp walk. We had psychs, we had diabetics, we had diabetic psychs, we had people just making shit up for a ride. And I got hit on twice and one marriage proposal that went a little something like this...
"Girl. What you call your husband?"
"I call him Officer.
"For RRRREAL!"
"Yeah, for real."
"Girl, you tripping. Where's yo ring?"
"Man. It's diamonds and platinum. You think I be wearing it to work? You crazy."

I was actully suprised the man took a gander at my ring finger and the fact he knew which finger to look at. I wear a silver ring on my right hand, he knew to check the left. Even though the drunken haze he was fairly observant. Too bad he couldn't tell me what happened to his wrist. "Man I broke or sumpin." Genuis. Then there was a schizo diabetic who would hollar gibberish at the top of his lungs unless I I spoke to him. Then it was "Yeah darling whatever you want, you gots a purtty smile" The cops loved that. We saw one of the officers later and he kept saying "You gots a purrty smile, what you call your husband?" I call him "Doctor" officer. I told my mom who was working at the ER tonight about my sorted adventures with the city crowd and my marriage proposal she asked what kind of fantasy world did I live in? All in a days work I guess. Man. I love the city trucks, you get to meet all kinds of people. Tonight will be my last scheduled night on a city truck though. I get shipped off the the islands for a break, even though I just got back on the truck and don't need a break. But whatever I go where I'm told.

Sleepy...

Brutal, fucking brutal. I forgot how bad a 24 hour shift is on 12 hour trucks. (just for those who don't read regularly we have 12 hour shifts in the busier parts of the system, and the norm 24/48 hour shifts in the slower parts) We are so short-handed that we sometime work up to but not exceding 36 hours on the busier 12 hour trucks. (Yes, we do get shipped off to slower outlying trucks to try a get some rest if you are on a 36.) Most of us are used to the long hours of runing and running, but I, my friends, am a bit out of practice. this was my first long shift since comming back to the streets. My body aches, my foot hurts and I am getting ready for bed. One more 12 hour shift tonight, then a long three day weekend that is well deserving. Lckly I have a paramedic partner who can help pick up my slack (We run a ALS on every truck, SInce I am still a crew member I will always have a Paramedic Crew Cheif) Also Luckly, even though it was busy, it was busy with alot od crap calls. Nobody dying, nobody in dire need, Nobody really in need of an ambulance. Just some sick party calls, some ETOH over indulgence, and some non cardiac chest pain. I started IVs because the hospital like them, not because the people were truly dying. I did 12 leads because I was told to, not because anyone was having an active MI, I gave O2, not because anyone was Short, but because it comforted and calmed my patients. I gave Morphine to ease the pain of a very angulated ankle, but it was more out of kindness and comfort, than nesessity. But now, I am going to bed only to get back up in 9 more hours to go and do it all again tonight. But fear not citizens, we are used to it.

Eh...

Run...Run...Run. Thats what we did all night. We went from assault to assault. To CHF then to Asthma. The more assaults. Man I don't know what was going on but people just felt like beating the crap outts each other last night. Nothing serious, mostly Lacerations that might have needed a few stitches... but still. Alot of ass kicking going on for a Monday night. Everybody seemed to have a case of the Mondays too, I got cussed at twice, swung at once and restrained one guy who tried to eat my fingers off. Crack is seriously wack. Oh and we went to this one house because her Imagianary friend was having shortness of breath. (Yes the same one who's other imagianary friend was stabbed a last week, he must have notof made it) But this time, knowing better, we didn't go hunting for 45 mins like we did last week.

I'm gonna end today by saying my heart goes out to all of the students, faculity and families of VT. I don't know you, but you are in my thoughts today... And to the first responders...You did good work yesterday. Medicine in the streets is hard enough when you don't know the people you are helping. I can only imagine what it must be like to work on fellow classmates, friends.

Blegh! OKAY I get it.

Learned two very important lessons last night. One of which that should be taught is every paramedic school everwhere. Narcan causes, no matter how slooowww you push it, Exorcist type vomiting. I knew it could cause vomiting because that is listed under side effects in the formulary, but what it should say is May cause vomiting that will put your unit out of service for 45 mins and need a mop and a hose to clean up thats what it should say. I have never seen anything like it. It was one the ceiling. Dripping like some brown alein goo you see in horror space flicks. And the second lesson is if you sit on the ambulance bay for long enough outside of the Level One Trauma Center, bloody stabbing victims pull up in POVs causing you to get yet another clean uniform bloody. I had just taken off the vomit shirt. Damnit. Luckly, it was just a little bit of blood and peroxcide got it out, but still. I also have a deep seeded aversion to feet. It goes back to when I was a brand new ER tech, and not knowing better pulled the socks off a homeless person c/o feet pain. With the sock came off three necrotic toes. Since then I don;t do feet. I'm not gonna touch yours and you're not gonna touch mine. I don't get pedicures and my orthopod thought this was hilarous. (He said I was the only patient's he's ever had that he couldn't do a compleate physical exam on because he thought I would freak out. I told him I wouldn't freak out, but make the exam quick) But We had not one but three patients with necrotic diabetic feet. I made my partner ride them in. I couldn't handle it. I said I would take the next five intoxicated assaulted college kids and/or smelly homeless if he would ride in the feet. Thats how bad my Feet Aversion is. Seriously.

Well lessons learned. Add that to my growing list of "Things Every Paramedic should Remember" Right above, push Lorazapam slow and keep a BVM near by, just in case your patient goes apenic. (Yep, learned that one the hard way too)

First Night

First night back after 5 months of recovery. Foot held up nicely. Only needed one dose of Aleve to calm the screaming bones, and only limped a couple of times, mostly when we stayed still for longer than 30 min. Took about 10 min to work all the kinks out. Which was well, twice in 12 hours. Had 8 calls and one wild goose chase though an apartment complex looking for what turned out to be an imaganary friend of one of the residents. The voices in her head told her that someone had been stabbed. It took 45 mins of looking for this person before us and PD figured it out that she was basicly talking to herself. Ah the joys of urban EMS. I slowly caught on the the new ways the radios worked (we went to digital 3-4 months ago) and working the AVLs. I figured out very quickly that I need to build my muscles back up when I tried to put the stretcher back into the truck fully loaded with a 300 lb patient. And I also need to clean up my now rusty IV skills so I don't turn my poor patients into a human pin cushion. (I did get one, and he was a tough stick) But everyone was right, it's like driving a car (or riding a bicycle) you don't really forget. You just are out of practice. But... I still felt like a new EMT. I drove a bit, running code once or twice, trying really hard not to throw my partner around the back. All and All an pretty tame night back. Now I'm off to bed so that I can do it all again tonight.

I get to go back I get to go back

Well thank god. I walked into the doctors office today will all the hope of a kindergardener on the first day of school. Hope that I can go back to the ambulance. So I waited quietly of over an hour in the waiting room. Then was brought back and the nurse said "he's a bit backed up" Really, no way, I thought I was just sitting in that room with all the other patients for no apparent reason. But I kept that thought to myself, because I am a sweet, nice person damnit. SO I waited a bit more in the room and the Doc walked in and before he had even shut the door I go "It's-nice-to-see-you-can-I-go-back-to-the-streets-now? My crackheads need me."
"You want to go back to being a street walking crackhead?"
"Yes Please."
"well you can add that statement to the Words I never thought Id hear my patients say list. Yes, you can go back to being a street walking crackhead"
"Thank You...so this is last time I have to see you ever?"
"yep, unless...when is your next big birthday?
"Well, 30 is in about three years"
I actully will miss the doc, he was one of my favorites. He was kind and had a great sense of humor. And most important right after the whole being a good surgeon, has a wonderful bedside manner. Throughout my whole injury and recovery he spoke TO me never AT me. He explained everything and didn't rely on his residents to carry the workload. When I was in the hospital, he would actully come into the room and explain and answer questions, even if the residents had already come in. It's like he takes the time to get to know who he's cutting on. I think he even came down into the ER before I was addmited and spoke to me, which for an attending to do, is well, unheard of. SO I thank him for being so kind to no only me, but my family. So I will miss my doc. But I hope never to see him again, at least not as a patient.

So Thursday night I go back. Back to the streets I call home. I'll be working the City truck. I think I have even found a new apartment. Downtown apartment, in a huge house. I will have mmy hardwood floors and huge windows and 10 ft ceilings. Just what I asked for. And the people in the house seem cool as hell. So everyone, pray to whatever god your pray to that they find me worthy.

New news

Okay, it was pointed out to me that it has been too long since I last posted, so here is some news. I go back to the ortho-pod on Tuesday. Who told me at the last appointment "Unless you seriously fuck up your foot between now and then, I will absolutly let you go back to the streets..." er...or something along those lines, he might have not dropped the F-bomb, so I was paraphrasing, whatever. So we are looking at the soon-est Tuesday night going back to work, unless I decide to get plastered again and fall down some more stairs. But I think the key to the whole thing was the heels, and since I won't be wearing them anytime soon, I think I'm safe. I survived the past Irish Holiday without an ER visit, so we can rule out the alcohol right? Anyways, I am looking forward to going back to my nights of reaking havoc upon the streets of my fair southern city. HQ is getting a bit...ah...tedious. My job right now is finding lost PCRs (patient care reports, for those who aren't medical) We went to electronic PCRs about three years ago. And medics are a fast thinking, but dyslexic group of people, so they like to transpose call numbers, addresses, times, dates and anything else. So in turn the programs we use loses reports. So I take a list of "Lost" reports which is about 100 calls (You do it by month) and find all the mixed up numbers and street names and fix them so the system can find them. It's like a giant game of Where's Waldo...and it blows. Except when you find one you have spent most of the day looking for. Which you then have 30 seconds of "I found it! I found it!" and then you just go to the next one on the list.

When I go back, I will also have to be Third Person for a couple of shifts. "Not because I'm a retard" as one of my supervisors put it. But because we have installed new AVLs, have a totally new radio set-up (we went to all digital radios about two months ago) and these new Stryker Stretchers that are electronic. Yes, you hit a button and it raises and lowers all on it's own. And the legs raise when you go to put the thing in the truck. And it works up to 700lbs (or 317 kgs). And they changed a few of the standing orders. So It's kinda llike easing me back into EMS. Then I will be on probation for and extra month or so and then I will be able to get my acting crew cheif.

So thats all my news for now.

Rules of a Night Shifter

So while I was sitting cubicle hell today, trying to fight off sleep and my ADD by reading the newest issue of JEMS (Journal of Emergency Medical Services) I can across an article by Steve Berry. For those who aren't familar with the man. He is the man behind the I am NOT and ambulance driver cartoons. (www.iamnotanambulancedriver.com) He also writes a column of JEMS. A humor column dealing with some of the lighter things in EMS...and they include the wonderfully twisted humor. This month's column actully caught my eye because he writes about the diffrence between Night shift medics and how we can be a little bit more...ah...rough around the edges. Mostly because we are sleep deprived weirdos who deal with more drunks, more psyhos, more violence than our daylight counterparts. EMS can be a difficult job, and even more when the sun goes down. We, as Steve puts it, "replace [our] pen- lights with the foot long MagLite, donning bullet-proof apparel, and matching garlic necklace, carrying Taser guns with silver-tipped prongs, recharging [our] iPods, and carrying a coffee mug so dee that it warrants a lifeguard when left unattended" He also explains how the attitude of the average EMS worker changes after about midnight. We may not be as sharp looking, sometimes fairly ragged, espaically if you catch us at the tail end of a 36 hour shift. As we know from my other post, I prefer the night. I am the only one in my circle of "medic friends" All the rest prefer working when the sun is out. I tried to explain it to them once, but it was futile. I think it has something to do with my mom being a night RN when she was pregnant with me, and when I was growing up, and when I started this job. It was the time I got the hang with my mom. Even now, if I work the city truck, we sometime go to the ER she works in and chill with them. The other people that work in the ED don;t mind because as long as we are with them, we aren;t out reeking havok and bringing them patients. And sometimes we even bring them donuts or bus-cuits from the 24 hour Hardee's down the skreet. So like like the night.
Steve Berry also mentions that everyone seems a little more laid back post midnight. oh...and he also has a list of rules that he states should be "posted on the ceiling of the ambulance, above the stretcher" They cracked me up, but are so true. Just ask any night medic so here...I will share...These are his words not mine...although I agree with every single one of them. (esp. rule number 2 and rule numbers 8, 9 and 10)
1. It's past midnight and I am not the same kindly medic I was at 8am, so be nice. I have big needles
2. I may need to examine you, but you..."no touchy" the medic
3. Alcohol may turn you into an idiot, but try not to be stupid
4.You are not Immortal. Beware: Ambulances used to be hearses
5.Don't force us to use retraints. We used to work in the rodeo
6. If you drank enough to require my services, it's not beneath your dignity to have me hand you a wastebasket to throw up
7.By law, you are not allowed to smoke in most public places. So what makes you think I am going to let you light up in an oxygen-enclosed closet on wheels
8. Arriving by ambulance to the ED won't necessarily get you faster service. Welcome to Managed Health Care.
9. If you think I'm tough, wait until you meat the ED triage nurse and hospital security guards
10. Maybe I wouldn't have to cut your clothes off if you had worn your seatbelt
11. Life's not fair. Get used to if. If it were there would not be 2 million lawyers in this town
12. Coming in by ambulance is not a "get out of jail free" card
13. To repeat: I am sorry, life is not fair. If it was, I wouldn't have to be here with you at this time and at this place. So, take responsiblity: Will this be cash or charge?
Taken from: "The Lighter Side: What They Don't Tell You in Medic School; When Darkness Falls by Steve Berry (JEMS, March 2007)

So To my fellow vampires...enjoy the night. Because everything looks to bright in the daylight.

Computers suck

Okay people, So My hard drive crapped out on me. Fuck. So it will be a while until I can post again. Just wanted to let yall know.
****EDIT****

I have been borrowing my sister's laptop. So maybe I spoke to soon. Anyways, the closest place I can get my computer worked on in Savannah, Georgia. You would think a city with an art school, and a libral arts college would have an Authorized Apple Dealer. But...noooo...I have to drive 2 hours away to get my computer looked at everytime it hiccups. Or makes a terrible, horrible, very bad screeching noise that I deduced came from the Hard Drive. So I called AIS computers in Savannah, who I have used before and they are wonderful people, and was told that "Yeah, your Hard Drive is about to kick it, and not in a good way, but run Disk Utility, you know, just in case" So after running the Disk Utility, it told me in big bold red letters "The volume Macintosh HD needs to be repaired" So I guess that means my computer is fucked. But at least it is just the hard drive and it will cost me approx. 220 bones to buy and install a new one. thats 120 for the drive and 100 for labor. I would do it myself, but the only downfall to being a card carrying menber of the Cult of Mac, is that Macs are incredibly hard to fix or upgrade hardware. They aren't quite as customizable after the fact as a PC. Still, not a big enough reason for me to switch. I've seen Vista, I watched it as it gave Mr. Gates the Blue Screen of Death during a keynote speech. So went Mac and never looked back (ha! I made a rhyme...I'm an idiot *sigh*) Now I must go and mourn the death of Mac. I'm wearing all black tomorrow.

EMS! Someone call for us?

So last night I went out with friends for drinks (no broken bones this time). Some EMSers and a couple not. One of the ones who wasn't in public service is acually trying to get on with a local Police department. It will be a good change for him, I think. But he is coming from a 9-5 desk job into a whole new world. So we (the EMSers) were telling him of stories. Some of the more strange things we run into. Now when I say what I'm about to say, It's not in a bad way, but I don't think he has any ideawhat it's like to do a job like EMS or Police work. Being a cop is more than running after people and shooting things. It, like EMS, has mnay diffrent layers for lack of a better word. As they were telling stories and telling him "you think that's twisted listen to this..." I was brought back to my first day as an EMT-B. Small things bothered me Like it really bothered me to just walk into someone's house without knocking. I was rasied in a very southern household where it was just polite to knock. That seemed very strange to me. I got over it very quickly, but I still feel kinda weird opening a door without first knocking. I have learned that it's okay to open the door slightly and yell "EMS! Someone call for us?" And then very quicklt get over what are you gonna see on the other side of the door. Are you gonna see a 80 year old with shortness...or are you gonna find a 400 lbs woman sitting on her sofa buck naked smoking a cigarrette yelling about the Queen of England living in her closet. You just never know.

And as always when one speaks of strange EMS calls the conversation always goes to one place. Things in Orfaces. Eggplants, tabasco sauce bottles, lightbulbs, straight pins, cotton balls, bic pens, you name it, somebody has shoved it up in a deep dark place for various reasons. And you never get a straight story. "I slipped and fell on it". But like any other job, you have to maintain some sort of composure and professionalism. I alway have the same running thought during calls like that ...It embarassing for them....Its embarrassing for them. And I think of something like naming all the Beatles albums in order or mundane things like the recipe for my bean salsa, as to keep me from losing it.

Then there are the heinous scenes, the MVAs with deaths or missing body parts, the homocides, the suicides, the dead baby calls. Too many of those, and one could lose thier mind if they don't know how to approach them. You just go to that happy place in your mind and do your job. You just have to think of it that way. It's my job. It's not easy, but this is what I have choosen to do with my life. You take the good and the funny with the awful and the twisted.
We all have way of dealing with the things that we see. Some go to the shooting range, some run or bike. Some turn to the bottle, whether it be alcohol or pills. I, myslef, shoot photographs or I paint. I go behind the camera and with every click of the shutter I let a little bit of all those fucked up emotions go away. But one thing should be the same for everyone. You need an escape from it. This job can kill a person if you let it. You have to grow a thick skin and an even thicker psyche.

Gerber Daisy Sepia I

Gerber Daisy Sepia I
Originally uploaded by artist in the ambulance 190.

Gerber Daisy VI

Gerber Daisy VI
Originally uploaded by artist in the ambulance 190.

Gerber Daisy sepia III

Gerber Daisy sepia III
Originally uploaded by artist in the ambulance 190.

My very good friend K. sent my flowers the other day. Gerber Daisies, which are my favorites. I was having a cruddy day. But she helped make it so much better. It was kinda funny, I had this big bunch of flowers on my desk all day. And everyone who asked who sent them my reply was "A friend" and why they would ask next " Just because"

They really should have naptime

I'm reverting back to my old habits a little bit too soon. I was doing really well going to be at a resonable hour back in January, but now...now my bedtime is getting later and later. I think my body's trying to tell me something. Like maybe I just can't operate in a 9-5 world. We all know by now, I am a night shifter. I prefer the dark as opposed to the sun. I have very fair irish skin, what can I say, the sun burns. It was something ingrained in me as a zygote. My mother worked nights when she was pregnant with me, so I think it totally screwed up my circadian rhythm for the rest of my existance. I'm going to blame her. But I don't mind except at 0830 when I have to try and function and not fall asleep at my desk. And I am working on the always exciting bill codes. Isf they would let me I would totlly work 2030 - 0500. My mind works better at those hours, plus there is less distraction in the middle of the night. And if there is something I don't need its any more distraction. The shiny things on the supervisor's desk I sit at provides me with enough of that. Anyways, I am reverting back to the staying up all night...I try and get into bed by 2200, but I tend to lay there staring at the ceiling until I get bored with that and open my laptop back up and internet for the next couple of hours until about 3 when I finally doze off only to be awoken at 7 to get ready for another exciting day in cubicle hell. All the while I'm at work I keep thinking "I wonder if anyone would notice if I crawled uder the desk and took a nap?"

I need...

I had a friend of mine today say "You're one of the only girls I know that actually misses the work" And I said to myself...I says "Self...Only six more weeks. And then I thought...You spend 8 hours a day 5 days a week in a sunless cubicle, staring at the walls and a computer screen typing in DXs and ICD9s, who wouldn't miss the street?" Right? I need the streets. They are my life. They are a part of me. I feel the need for drips and drugs boluses. I feel the need for blood and guts and Chest Pain and Shortness...I need gunshots and MVAs. I need retarded drunks argueing with me about taking them to the hospital. I need to be able to yell at the stupid DUI kid who just slammed his car into a pole and who has the audacity to call me a bitch. I need precordial thumps, cardioversions, Radid Sequence intubations and needle decompressions. I need to look death in the face and go...HA HA not today you sick bastard! Your not taking him today! I need my old life back. I'm sick of looking at ICD9s and choosing between ALS1 rides and ALS2 rides.

I dream of the day I go back. I miss it. I feel kinda useless. But I am healing. The healer is healing. so I will continue to heal until the day the orthopod says to me "B- you are ready, go forth...save the crackheads; save the sick...save the stupid."

Six

...Six is the number of the day. I went to my wonderful orthopod today for me post-op exam. The good news is I'm healing quite well despite my best efforts. I'm wearing two mathcing shoes. I do have a slight limp, which is slowing becoming less and less. I have alot of pain at night after being on my feet all day, all of which is normal after... lets count... 5 fractures of my foot. The bad news is he wants me to heal for another Six Weeks!. Six. So April is when I'm looking to hit the streets again. I completly understand his line of thought though. I would rather go back a few weeks late, than go back to early and reinjure my foot. I had a very impresive injury. ( a lisfranc fracture, three metatarsal neck fractures, and a Jones, or Dancers Fracture) But six weeks more in cubicle hell is a long time. I miss my crackheads, my gunshots, my CHFers. But healing is what I'm doing now. He told me if I didn't do what I do, I would be back to work in a week, but because my job intails being on my feet for 12 hours, lifting up to 80 lbs of gear up and down stairs and possibly running for my life when the crackheads start shooting at us, he would rather be safe than sorry. So here I am, six more weeks doing ambulance billing. Which I am happy to do, they didn't have to give me that job. I could just be on LWOP. But still...it kinda sucks. But I'm healing, slowing but steadily.

New post.

Well, first I'm going to apologize to all of my faithful readers. I am sorry I haven't posted in a while. Been busy, I'm moving this weekend, so between that I being sick, and having my foot cut open to remove the hardware I haven't really been up to posting. But tonight I shall post. Even if it is a completly pointless post.

Well The pin pulling was a success, I am healing quite nicely. It was kinda funny, the anesetheologist who put me under for my first surgery, was also the one who put me under for this procedure. He was going through his shpeal before, "We are going to give you some medicine that will put you to sleep and then we are going to put a breathing tube...blah...blah", when I stoped him and said "I'm a Medic, you can use the big words on me I understand then...so what size tube to you think you will use?..and weren't you the doc that did my nerve block before?" (I'm a 6.5 ETT, just FYI). He then looked at me really hard and then cracked up..."You were the Medic who got tanked on her birthday and shattered your foot weren't you? We still get a kick out of your story. Your fractures were impressive... Yes, that whould be me, I am that girl.

But taody was a big day for me I wore two matching shoes. This is a big deal because for the past three months I have had to wear a big ugly AirCast on the broken foot...but today...TODAY, I wore Both of my Adidas Shelltop Gazelles. Granted one's a little bit more beat up than the other, but nontheless I was still thrilled.

I also pissed off a snarly High School student when I told him that his reason for not wearing a seatbelt was idiotic it is uncomfortable and his brother's, best friend's cousin's life was saved because he WASN'T wearing a seat belt (Thats a really stupid thing to tell a Paramedic who in five years has never cut a dead body from a seatbelt, but has on more than a few occasions scraped dead ejections from the asphalt, because they were not wearing one...it was like when I was told by a HS student from the same HS that drunk drivers are more careful drivers because they are intoxicated, someone explain that logic to me)

Okay, well thats enough for me tonight, I must sleep, tomorrow I have to help test 20 or so EMT's for the 4 open EMT slots for my system. A...A is for Airway...right?

Pin pulling party

Tomorrow is the day. The day that I have been waiting for for almost three and a half months. Since that fateful fall from grance. No thanks to a bartender and two bottles of a really good spanish wine. I get my screw and last pin removed from my foot. The pin by the way that has almost made it's way to the outside of my skin. gross. But yeah, they come out and I will be able to wear real shoes again. Maybe not black patent leather three inch Steve Maddens, but shoes. I should write a letter the the Madden company though and tell them that even after a fall from three flights of stairs with three shattered metatarsals, a Lisfranc, and a Jones fracture, the shoes remained unscathed. He makes a damn sturdy shoe. Beautiful and tough little things those heels are.

Fallen.

We had a police funeral today. Not a line of duty death, thank god, but he was a well known and well liked officer, not just by his fellow officers, by other public servants. He was good to us, and he will be missed. I only knew him through work. Would talk on scenes, joke, you know normal stuff. I don't have a whole lot of stories like some of the people who knew him very well. But still...he was one of us.

So I don't know how many of you have even been part of a Police funeral, by it is a sight to behold. The city really does shut down. They closed down the main street in front of the church. All the officers lined up at attention in thier dress blues. We also had about 20 medics lines up behind the officers. Then came the rumble of the motorcycles (the officer was a member of the moto team), officers from every juristiction. The drove in front before the casket, with the officer's police crusier behind them. Then we all filed into the church. After it was over there was a motorcaid that stretched across the Connector in to the Island. Just a line of blue lights that strtched on for ever. We had five units at the end and there was two fire trucks. We wound our way to the grave site. There we fell into line, again behind the officers in the dress blues. They had a bugler that playyed Taps, and bag piper that played Amazing Grace, the 21 gun salute. That even had me choked up. Especially when they handed the folded flag to the Parents. Then came the 10-42 salute. It was impressive and beautiful. You never want to have to see this, but it is a wonderful salute to the type of officer he was.

Stupid people

Okay well even when I'm not at work I am still witness to the stupidity of humans. SO I was driving home from k's house tonight after Grey's Anatomy... Well actully let me just say this first, It's pouring down very cold rain and it 35 degrees outside...Okay, so...I was driving, sitting at a light on the Crosstown ( a main street that goes from Downtown to the interstate) when I look over to see some totally fratastic dude running down the street in nothing but a show me your vagina Paris Hilton mini skirt. Thats it. Seriously. Thats really all I have tonight. I'm tired and I have to go to cubicle hell in the am.

Sometimes my readers make my day.

I was looking through some old posts today, reading some comments I never saw because the post are so old and I found this gem of a comment. I love it for last two lines.

Anonymous said...

It's 2 in the morning. I am looking for information on croup. My 3 year old has it bad. Trying to decide if we should go to the hospital. Stuck his head in the ice-box. Kinda helped. He's in bed now calmer but kind of wheezy. Scary, don't like it. His name is Joe. He likes ambulances too.

Those last two lines just made me smile. Kids are wonderful little creatures. I don't know how old this comment is, but I hope Joe feels better. Croup sounds alot worse than it is and smart thinking putting his head in the icebox. A steamy bathroom also works.

so yeah...

So everyone has their weakness. Even God-like paramedics, like myself (ha!), have something that they just aren't that great at. We are not perfect creatures, especially after a grueling 36 hour shift. I am not on my A game. At about hour 27 I lose all capacity to form real sentances, it mostly becomes a series of grunts and sighs. But thats neither here nor there. My real weakness, Is math. I just can't ever grasp a hold of it, which in my line of work can mean giving a patient Four mgs of Epi instead of point four mg of epi which can result in the patients heart actually exploding. Now, with that said, I do drug calc after drug calc, I carry a calulator in my pocket at all times, along with a whole notepad of doses. I have a chart for all my RSI drugs, I have a chart for all of the drips we carry on the truck, I even have a chart that has all of my pediatric drugs and doses. I have no problem looking things up in my feild guide, my standing orders or whatever esle I have handy. Even if it makes me look a little bit rookie-ish. Because I'd rather look like a rookie to a live patient than a dead one.

The reason I'm telling my secret is that this is why I totally scared to get my Acting Crew Cheif. It's really, really scares me that the powers that be want me...the math retard...to be in charge of a truck. It's not like I can turn to the compleatly green part-time basic and say...So how many drops make 5mcgs per min per kg? Not that I wouldn't trust my Basic, because they can save a paramedics ass. But it's something they don't need to know. It would be like asking the stock boy at the grocery store...so...what should I do about my 401K? The Basic's job is to turn to the overzealous medic who is getting all distracted by all those advanced things like IVs and various tubes and say..."Shouldn't we expose the patient all the way because the cop said the dude heard 4 shots, but I'm only seeing 2 bullet holes? It' might explain why the dudes crashing but the holes we see wouldn't cause that" Yes, we medics have been known to over look the basic stuff because we are so into all that really cool blinky, beeping advanced stuff. But thats another post, so back to me...and my drug problems. You wouldn't think a little thing like a few math problems would have me all worked up like this, but it does. I may be able to read a 12 lead quickly, yet efficently. I may be able to restrain a violent psych in les than 2 minutes. I know that help is only a radio key-up away. But when it's just you and your partner out there, and they have put you in charge of not only you partner, but also some other person's life. And I have to know that you give .5mg every 5 mins up to a dose of .04mg/kg of atropine to the dying bradycardic and also how much fluid goes into that syringe to make .5mgs of atropine. That just scares the hell outta me.

But practice makes perfect. So I will continue to do drug calc after drug calc...drip after drip. Just so when the narc keys are tossed to me on that first shift as an Acting I will be able to quit hyperventalating and be able to help the sick and stupid of my county.

untitled

So I have now a date. The date that the pins and screw get taken out of my foot. Feb. 9th I will no longer have a bionic foot. Then about two more weeks to make sure I don't have an orthopeadic collapse. I'm not quite sure what that is but it's doesn't sound good. Actully, it sounds like something we go any given nursing home at 0200 to pick up. Medic 5... 76, delta response... to the old folks home for an 81 year old complaining of orthopaedic collaspe. Patient will be in the dinning room.

Seriously.

Then after that I will leave cubicle hell and head back to the streets, where instead of dealing with the HQ crowd I get my freaks and tweeks back. I'm still debating which can cause me more pain. At least at the office I'm not getting spit on. But then again, I go back to what I love. Having the freedom to drive where ever I want and having my free time during the week to do things like doctors appointments and going to the bank. I really am having trouble figuring out how people stuck behind a desk 9-5 get anything done. Like when do they go to the grocery store? Or to the bank? An hour for lunch just isn't enough time to really do much of anything. I can barely eat, let alone be productive. I guess I have spent to much of my working life with such a screwed up schedule that normal hours no longer apply anymore. Going grocery shopping at 3am just doesn't seem all that strange to me. There sure isn't a whole hell of alot of people getting in the way. and the drunk college kids in the Harris Teeter at 3 in the morning are always good for entertainment. Speaking of drunk college kids, I just have to say I was witness to the most spectaular conversation between two fantasticly drunk girls in the bathroom of a downtown bar. There just isn't words for what I heard. It took all the control I had ever needed to muster to keep myself from laughing so hard that I would have to actually sit down to keep from falling over. It was pure drunkinese and a little bit of word salad, but the parts that made sense went a little something like "So...I like totally respect you and our friendship and like all that sisterhood shit...And it's doen;t matter that you ...like...fucked him and all...I'm soooo over that...because you mean more to me than him...because were like...sisters!" Then somethings that I couldn't understand then watching them teeter on 5 inch manolo knock offs and try and fix what was left of what was once perfect make-up. I actully felt better about myself. In my crappy jeans and tee shirt and barely there make-up. Because it made me relize that deep down, we all are just a mess.

Even SWAT calls 911

Officer Down! Officer Down! Move! Move! Move!
Originally uploaded by artist in the ambulance 190.

So a few days ago I went out with the Tactical Medical Team (TEMS for short) on a training mission with the Sherrif's Office SWAT team. I am my systems Offical/UnOffical Photographer. So we needed photos of all of the special operation teams (we have three, TEMS, TRMT, which is the Technial Rescue Team...That's the one I'm on, and the HAZ-MAT team...or AKA the gloworms) Anyways, The TEMS teams are a gorup of highly trained Paramedics that are deployed with the SWAT teams during missions. They work very closly with the boys in blue.

Now here I was, still casted, having to move quickly to get shots and then get out os the way. I had to have special permission from not only the team, but also from my orthopeadic surgeon to take thses photos. I was really happy with the results. And the SWAT team guys were like "you move pretty well for a cripple" Thanks guys.

Also thanks to the SWAT team and the TEMS team for letting me come out on your super secret squirll medic night mission.

drool.

http://www.apple.com/iphone/

So...Yeah...I want.

Rambles On About Nothing is my indian name

Well, I really have nothing to report. I just felt like writing. So here I sits, and thinks about nothing in particular. Listening to Some new music I got with my iTunes christmas cards. Wishing I had bought Bloc Party's new one and The Shins, the one with The New Slang on it. But I was feeling more Goldfrapp and TV on the Radio that day. So next time. I shot off a couple rolls of film today. Yes, seriously, film. People still shoot with film. Even I put down the digital Nikon occasionaly and pick up something old skool, like today I shot with a Holga. For those unfamiler, it s a plastic toy camera. It distorts, light leaks, the colors are all twisty. Well, I shot B&W, but I'm looking forward to getting the film developed. Maybe I will go back into the darkroom.

The foot is healing. I have one pin and one screw left. They come out hopefully at the end of the month. Then back to the streets. I miss my job, my real job, not my fake sit in front of a computer all day job. I just don't have the attention span for it. I get all distracted by everything else besides what I'm actually supposed to be doing. I don't know if anyone else out there knows waht ICD-9 codes are, but they are the bane of my existance right now. I do get the read the narritives from the run sheets, which can be entertaining. But people who type there reports in ALL CAPS I hate that. ITS LIKE YOU ARE SCREAMING!. AND IT MAKES THEM HARD TO READ. There is also someone who mispells the same word on every report. Now I'm a terrible speller and my typos have caused more than one of my reports to be kicked back to me. But seriously, its a simple word. And it's on every single report, so I'm just saying. There is one medic in particular who writing style I really like though (makes me laugh) and another who tries to put as many quoted four letter words as possible in one report. (also makes me laugh) The record is 6 F bombs. Some use nothing but Acronyms, other spell everything out. I am partial to the acronyms myself (CHF, HTN, NTG, ASA, HONDA, DFO/IC, NGAH, BBSCTA, CAOx3, PMSx4...ect...ect)I have also learned that two alcoholic beverages is still the average number for the absolutly smashed (who came up with the two drink rule?), but crack binges last on average about four days.

Finally over the strep. Throat's still sore, but at least I feel much much better. And the fever broke yesterday. I have been able to eat something besides tylenol and grape popcicles (my favorite, right up there with green jello)

Okay thats all I got.

Tiny Little Balls

Tiny Little Balls
Originally uploaded by artist in the ambulance 190.

Branches

Branches
Originally uploaded by artist in the ambulance 190.

Palmetto

Palmetto
Originally uploaded by artist in the ambulance 190.

Happy New Year.

I rang in the new year with a wonderful group of friends and lots of champange. No stairs, no falling, no heels. Both feet still in the same amount of peices I started out with in the beginning of the night. The one still being held together by a couple of pins and a screw. It was a good night to say the least. Then came the next day. Which actually given the amount of alcohol that was consumed, not all that bad really. Its yesterday and today that has been bad. A seriously henious case of strep. The antibotics just don;t seem to be doing the job they are supposed to do. But I'm fighting it. Gave up on trying to eat last night. Now it's just tylenol, motrin, and those little lozenges that taste terrible but work oh so well. I also had dinner with another group of friends, my EMS family. One of which lives in Philly now because she is going to PA school. But she came into town a few days ago. It was good to see her. It was good to see all of them. I haven't seen them as much as I am used to with the not being on the streets right now. Being stuck in the office blows. I don;t do 9 to 5 very well. I'm a night shifter. I prefer the dark. Call me what you will, but I just work better under the moonlight than the sun. I have got another month before I can go back to the streets. The ortho-pods have to remove the hardware in my foot. And I have to build up the strenth back up in my leg. I'm working on getting a place to stay once I'm back on my feet (Pun intended haa) Like I have said before, I love my parents and that I have a place to come if I need it, but I moved out six years ago. This has not been easy on anyone involved. I'm ready to have my own space again. Well its time for my Motrin dose, the CSI: then bed.

Eve's got nothing on me.

Eve's got nothing on me.
Originally uploaded by artist in the ambulance 190.

happy holidays...is it over?

Well here ends another Christmas. This year for us it just snuck up on us. We got our tree up late, the presents didn;t get wrapped until last night at like 4am, and I had to thrown together a Christmas dinner for my dad and I (Ham, greenbean Casserole, and a baked tater) because my mama has to work tonight (she an ER nurse for those who are just visiting my blog for the first time. She works in a smaller ER that is part of the Trauma Center here. I occasionally get to see her when I'm owrking, she also likes to say "alright hunny, you tell that partner of your to drive carefully and we'll see yall when yall get here" over the radio when I encode the hospital. I'm always saying. Mama!, the people all over the county can hear you. But she don't care. My Supervisor got a kick out of it the first time he heard my mama say it)

Anyways, I racked up quite well this morning, getting everything I asked for. CSI the sixth season, this beautiful necklace from my daddy, 70 bucks in iTunes card (awsome.) and a Holga (for those who are unfamilar, it is a cheap toy camera from Japan or China I can't remember. It used medium format film, 120, and because of its plasic body and lens does weird stuff with the colors and adds wicked distortions to the shot. It is awsome) I can't wait till I can go out and shoot with it. and I haven;t shot film is so long, Its gonna be a nice change. This was also the first christmas I didn't have to work. Granted, its because of my foot and I'm working up at HQ, and HQ is closed today...and tommorrow. So no work for me. The foot is healing quite nicely. One of the internal pins is trying to come through though and it is quite pain and uncofortable. I think there is a small nerve ovever top of it because everytime I flex my foot it sends a buring pain across my foot and I can feel it in the tips of my toes. So I just keep still and try to stay off of it. But other than that, It is quite well. I'm walking on it, as long as I'm wearing the Aircast. Hopefully, by the end of January I will be moving back out on my own. and I will get to go back to the streets. Dealing with my crackheads and tweekers.

O Christmas Tree

O Christmas Tree
Originally uploaded by artist in the ambulance 190.

Lights and bows

Lights and bows
Originally uploaded by artist in the ambulance 190.

Angel

Angel
Originally uploaded by artist in the ambulance 190.

Seatbelt...

http://www.adjab.com/2006/12/13/incredibly-graphic-seatbelt-ad-video/

This is a PSA from Ireland. I am going to warn you it is graphic...but truthful. This was shown to me by a fellow medic. We see this almost every shift. A death or a brain injury that could have been prevented with just a simple click of a seatbelt.

Be safe.

Merry Christmas

http://www.southflorida.com/events/sfl-scaredsanta,0,2245506.photogallery?
coll=sfe-events-headlines&index=1

Copy and paste this link. It is worth it I promise

I don't hate it hate it, Im just not used to it, I swear really...I'm fine

Okay I am ready to have my own place again. This living with the 'rents, well, living with people in general blows. I'm not used to having to share my space with much of anyone. Even when I had a roommate she was never home so it was like I lived by myself. I'm not used to the sharing of the bathroom or not being able to watch hours of the forensic shows on CourtTV at three in the morning 'cause I have terrible insomnia because my sister can't sleep in her own bed for some reason so she sleeps on the sofa. But I can't voice any of this because it would make me seem ungrateful. Which, by the way, I am not. I am happy to have a place to stay. But it's something that I can't explain and they don;t understand. I was living on my own for six almost seven years, thats a long time. Long enough to get into alot of strange habits, like for instance needing the TV to be on when I sleep, going to the fridge over and over, opening it, seeing nothing, but still go back over and over, reading a book and watching TV at the same time (oh the horror)...or even just watching forensic shows or mythbusters until my eyes bleed. This is what I'm used to doing. If I wanted to stay in my pajamas all weekend I would and I didn;t have to explain it. If I went out somewhere I just left. I didn't have to sit through a machine gun fire of questions...where are you going, why are you leaving, what are you going to do, who are you going with, are there going to be boys there, when are you going to be back, why are you wearing that, you know black shoes and brown belt don;t match, you aren't really wearing that are you? Oh good lord I'm just going to the movies, really, I don't thing D cares if my purse matches my belt.

I don't really hate it though. It could be a hell of alot worse. I could be living at the shelter. Or trying to figure out how I could earn enough money to make rent with this stupid broken foot, without having to sell drugs or my body to do it. And there is alway the entertainment of watching my sister anf father chase after a Palmetto bug. My father gagging up his stomach and my sister freaking the fuck out. Over a bug...it's kinda funny. In my family is complaetly nuts sort of way.

Sweet freedom

Sweet freedom. On many diffrent levels. One I have been able to drive for about a week now. So when I get the chance I go, even if its just driving around. I'm just happy to be out of the house. I love my family anf I thank them everyday for letting me come back. But moving home was not something I wanted to do. I have to keep reminding myself its just two months, it's just two months. I am not the easiest person to live with so as difficult it is for me to be here its even more so for my family. My mother's studio converted to my new room, with just enough room for my bed and a couple bags of clothes. the garage filled and a whole storage unit on the island full of my shit. And lord have mercy do I have alot a fuckig shit. But I'm happy to have a bed. At least I'm off the sofa.

I also was able to go see a movie tonight, (I saw Borat, it was discusting, but hilarious. There is one scene though I wish I had never seen, it is burned into my brain and just...ewwww. The did make those USC boys look like compleate assholes.) I did almost face plant trying to manuver the stairs, in the dark mind you, on those god forsaken crutches. My friend laughed so hard he dropped his coke. Serves the bastard right. You are not supposed to laugh at the cripple.

I does feel good to get out of that apartment though. My now ex roommate and I were having issues and I was ready to get out of that place. But I wasn't sure how to get out without a fight. Seems breaking your foot in five places was the answer to my prayers (thank you god, but next time, can we think of something less painful? Is that asking too much? And moving home...I really don;t want to do thatever again, I'm sure my mother and father would say the same thing. and can I have a cool studio on King Street, with big windows and hardwood floors and 12ft ceilings? Thats probally too much to ask huh, how bout just a cheap apartment...with hardword floors)

best of 2006

My best of 2006 30 sec music reviews

Snow Patrol
Eyes Open

I listened to this damn CD until the thing quit playing. Then I went out and bought the damn thing on iTunes and burned a copy. It was that good. Yes, they did play that "Chasing Cars" song way too much, but tracks seven and eight make it all better

Thom York
Eraser

I thank god everyday for radiohead. One of the best bands ever. This is the lead singers solo effort. And it is fantastic in all its electronic noise glory.

Wolfmother
Self Titled

Think Led Zep. Hard classic sounding rock. Good for when led Zep can't be located in the 13 Gigs of music you have on your iBook

The Killers
Sam's Town

The Killers sophmore effort. It is compleatly diffrent from the glam emo rock that we have come to know and love. More rock, less glam. But Brandon Flowers's voice still is very reconizable and lovely as ever. CHeck out tracks 6,7,8.

The Decemberists
The Crane Wife

play, enjoy...then repeat...this is absoulutly my favorite Album of 2006.


Gomez
How We Operate

Again...Play...enjoy repeat...Girlshapedlovedrug and the title track, How We Operate, are the best tracks

Bloc Party
Slient Alarm

I compare them to old Blur. Banquet and Likeeating Glass...actually the first 5 tracks kick ass. but really I love the whole thing.

Red Hot Chili Peppers
Stadium Arcadium
Oh course I had to include the old favorite of the CHilli Peppers. I prefer Disc Two. But the whole things is RHCP goodness all over

Pearl Jam
ST

I loveed and always will love Pearl Jam. They are like the Foo Fighters in that they never have ever had a bad album.

Joshua Radin
We Were Here

Very good acoustic folky music to just chill out too.

SO there you have it my top ten albums of 2006. Or bands I just discovered in 2006, I think a couple are older, but I just found them this year. Anyways these are my Favs.

Harder than I thought

SO I have found life is difficult to sat the least when you are limited by having only one working foot and having to use crutches just to get around. Case in point...I have finally been given the okay to drive, which i sgreat. I was getting tired of being forced to stay in bed or on a sofa watching TV becauseI can't leave the house for lack of ride. was begining to really get to me. I was snapping at my family and generally not being very nice. I understand that, but was hard being stuck. But now I have Tallula back and took her out for a spin. Oh how I have missed her. Anyways back to the point. So I was heading to the local Harris Teeter to get my sushi from the regular sushi guy who I have not seen in almost a month. I could almost taste the spicy tuna. And my man make my roll fresh, just for me. while I get my Orangina and three granny smith apples. That has been lunch for months now. But intead of going in I sat in the parking lot wondering who the hell am I going to get the apples, sushi and orangina to the regester. I trully was perplexed. I really could not come up with a good way. If I was to put in in my bag I carry around for things just like this except priavtly in my own home, it looks as iff I am stealing. I could kick one of those baskets around, but that just seems stupid. I tried carring one, but it throws the balence off. So what did I do? I said fuck it all ans went to Mcdonalds got on of those apple and walnut fruit things and went home. Sushi-free. I will have to bring my mom with me next time so she can carry it. Unless you, my readers have anyideas? I am open for suggestion. I hate having to rely on others.

Its simple things like that, or getting up into my truck, or getting a cup of coffee from point A to point B. I hate asking for help. Im terrible at it. I always forget to say please and thank you. Its not because I'm ungrateful, its because I have never had to. Even when I hurt my back, i was able to move and be independant. But the stupid foot has left me 3/4 useless if you count the leg plus both arms because of the crutches.

I know I shouldn't bitch like this. I have had patients much worse than me. SOme are been left paralized, some have been left deformed, some have been left with nothing at all. I didn;t lose my limb, or ability to think or breath on my own. I spoke to the cyclist while I was in the hospital, who laughed at me, as he should have, and just in talking to him. I no longer felt sorry for my self. He had injuries that could have killed him. and damnit if he is not running triathlons now. So from this day on no more bitching. Only positive. I am healing, I will be back. back with the crackheads and drunks. back with the sick and the stupid. until then, I am done bitching.

12 days of EMS Christmas

This was a foward I got from a fellow medic. I thought I would post it. It also explaines the little >>>>>> thingies.


The Twelve Days of Christmas EMS Style...
>>>
>>>On the First day of Christmas, my Dispatcher gave to me...
>>>Grandma who fell and hurt her knee...
>>>
>>>On the Second Day of Christmas, my dispatcher gave to me...
>>>2 MG of Narcan for the out of work person who wants to end it all by
>>>taking
>>>her Husband's pain pills and won't tell me what she took and is feeling
>>>suicidal....
>>>and grandma who fell and hurt her knee.
>>>
>>>On the Third day of Christmas, my dispatcher gave to me....
>>>Three stacked shocks for the 88 year old man who instead of paying the
>>>neighbor kid 5 bucks to shovel his driveway, decided to do it himself
>>>and
>>>have the
>>>big one in the driveway...
>>>2 Mg of Narcan for the psycho chick trying to off herself...
>>>and grandma who fell and hurt her knee..
>>>
>>>On the Fourth day of Christmas, my dispatcher gave to me....
>>>4 AM in the morning I have to go to the nursing home because someone has
>>>had
>>>the flu for like 16 years and all of a sudden needs to go to the
>>>hospital....NOW,...
>>>Three Stacked shocks for the full arrested popsicle,
>>>2 MG of Narcan for Morphine eating Momma...
>>>and Grandma who fell and hurt her knee....
>>>
>>>On the Fifth day of Christmas, my dispatcher gave to me...
>>>Five minutes to eat.....
>>>4 AM shuttle call,
>>>Three stacked shocks,
>>>2 MG of Narcan,
>>>and Grandma who fell and hurt her knee....
>>>
>>>On the Sixth Day of Christmas, my dispatcher gave to me....
>>>Six run reports behind because the computer guy can't fix the system...
>>>Five Minutes to eat!!!!!!!!!!
>>>4 AM Shuttle,
>>>3 zaps to the chest,
>>>gonna have a stomach pumped,
>>>and grandma who fell and hurt her knee...
>>>
>>>On the Seventh day of Christmas, my dispatcher gave to me...Seven car
>>>pile
>>>up while everyone was trying to beat the light so they can get into Wal
>>>Mart
>>>the day after Thanksgiving thinking there is only 4 dancing Elmo
>>>Dolls...
>>>six reports behind...
>>>Five minutes to eat.......
>>>4AM is way to early,
>>>3 stacked shocks,
>>>2 of Narcan Pushed,
>>>and grandma who fell and hurt her knee....
>>>
>>>On the Eighth day of Christmas, my dispatcher gave to me....Eight
>>>flights
>>>of
>>>steps to walk up to get the 400 pound person who is having shortness of
>>>breath since LAST Christmas and can't walk...oh, and of course, the
>>>elevator
>>>doesn't
>>>work...
>>>7 cars a crunching,
>>>six reports a writing,
>>>Five minutes to eat.
>>>4 AM shuttle,
>>>CPR in progress,
>>>2 MG of Narcan,
>>>and grandma who fell and hurt her knee...
>>>
>>>On the ninth day of Christmas, my dispatcher gave to me Nine blankets
>>>needed
>>>to cover up grandpa because he is freezing and we aren't even out of the
>>>house yet but thinks he will get pneumonia and die for all of the 10
>>>seconds we
>>>are outside...
>>>Eight flights of stairs,
>>>should have stayed home and bought it off of Ebay,
>>>six reports I'm writing...
>>>Five minutes to eat.....
>>>What the Hell time is it,
>>>should have paid the kid,
>>>2MG of Narcan,
>>>and grandma who fell and hurt her knee.
>>>
>>>On the Tenth Day of Christmas, my dispatcher gave to me...
>>>Ten Minutes till I can get a bed in the ER because the nurses are busy
>>>figuring out who is going to lunch next....
>>>Nine blankets needed,
>>>Hope fire department is coming,
>>>7 cars a crunching,
>>>six reports I need to write,
>>>Five minutes to eat...
>>>Can't you wait till morning,
>>>stick a fork in him, he's done,
>>>Man I hope she shuts up...
>>>and grandma who fell and hurt her knee.
>>>
>>>On the Eleventh day of Christmas, my dispatcher gave to me....
>>>Eleven times I tried to get the heat to work in the back of the truck
>>>and
>>>maintainence won't take the truck in...
>>>ten minutes waiting,
>>>Nine blankets needed,
>>>eight flights of steps to climb,
>>>Hope you have Progressive,
>>>Give me a new ink pen...
>>>Five minutes to eat....
>>>4 AM is early,
>>>3 Leads all show he's dead,
>>>2 MG won't touch her..
>>>and grandma who fell and hurt her knee...
>>>
>>>On the Twelth day of Christmas, my dispatcher gave to me...
>>>a 12 Gague IV needle that I put into the drunk 19 year old who tried to
>>>swing at me...
>>>it's really freezing,
>>>Hope you choke on your sandwich,
>>>9 blankets for grandpa,
>>>How did you get up here in the first place,
>>>man your husband is gonna be pissed,
>>>six reports STILL down...
>>>five minutes to eat...
>>>Better than taking them back,
>>>Hope I recorded the code,
>>>Man, just pass out already...
>>>and grandma who fell and hit her knee...

gobble, gobble...

I have been home recovering. Being waited on hand and foot. And I'm about sick of it. I just want to sleep in my own bed. Don't get me wrong, I adore my family, but after not living at home for almost six years I miss the independance, I miss my bed, I miss my home. I will say it again, I ADORE my family, but Im tired of sleeping on the sofa, like a vagrant. I'm squating at my parent's house. And my father follows me around, arms ousreatched, like waiting for a child just learning to walk. I'm getting pretty steady on the crutches, I'm learning that as long as the caps on pretty tightly I can throw the bottle of Aquafina to the sofa were I'm sitting. and I can get up to feed myself. I'm not fully self suficiant but I'm getting closer. and as soon as I can bear weight I will be better.

The othro-pod (My every so sweet and wonderful Dr D.) saya I can go back to work on light duty as soon as the pins come out in two weeks. I'm looking forward to that, but I'm also NOT. Because they basicly take a pair of pliers and yank those suckers out from deep within the bone...gives me the huzz just thinking about it. But I will be hppy to be back in uniform, even if it is just at HQ doing data entry.

Also Happy Turkey day to my fellow Americans. hope you had family to celebrate with, as I did. lots of food, lots of laughs. My family is well either turned ALLTHE WAY ON...or OFF and we are a family of drinkers. But I was okay I took my painkillers and flaoted away, enjoying the holiday in a drug endused haze. which in my eyes is better than an ETOH haze...so hope you got food and family .

My stay at MUSC

I normally try not give to many details away about my city, using alisis's like "the ritzy island", "The City", "Miracle Hospital", but in this post I will name a name. I was a patient at The Medical University Hospital of SC last week with my foot injury. Now the reason I am actually stating the name of the hospital, giving away this small detail, is because the care I received at the hospital was excellent. It all started in the ER, now these are people I know on a first name basis, being that I am a medic. They treated me like family. They worked quicly to get my pain under control. The consult with ortho was also quickly ordered so that getting me admitted was expidited. So my excellent care started in 1W and then continued when I was addmitted upstairs.

The nursing staff on 7E were caring and knowledgable, the CAs were kind, and the MDs took time to explain everything in terms I could understand. Even though I am I am in the medical feild and understand most of the "big medical words" they did not speak in them. But they did not talk down to me either. One even took the time, after he noticed that I was not doing to well dealing with the injury, (not just pain-wise, but also mentally, I was worried about if I would be able to go back to work with an injury like this) to just sit and talk to me, which for a surgeon to do is well...he treated me like a person not just another patient. Actually, I really can't say anything bad about any of the staff that worked with me. The night nurses, when they were not busy would come in my room and talk. (I didn;t sleep very well at night, being a night shift worker) nad there was one day shift CA, B., who after being cooped up in that stupid hosptial room for like four days, brought me a special kind of wheelchair (The kind from PT that the legs popped up so that me foot would stay elevated.) and two guys from PT to help me into it. So I could go downstairs and go outside for some fresh air.

So I just wanted to say thank you to the staff of 1W and 7E. I don't know if any of them read my blog at all, But if you do, you guys know who you are who took care of me. You all did a good job. I know I was a pain in the ass sometimes, but aren't all medical workers? But even if I totally got on your nerves you didn't show it. You made me feel well cared for. So again Thank You.

The After.

The After.
Originally uploaded by artist in the ambulance 190.

Ok. As promised here is the story of the birthday broken foot.

So it all started out like a normal birthday, I went out with a group of friends to a japanese hibachi place. We got all dressed up, I put on mt new Steve Maddens (with the three inch heel, and I have trouble in heels, keep this in mind, they play a major part in the story) Had a great dinner of steak and shirmp. Had a few glasses of wine and two of those little cups of sake. After we ate we headed over to the wine bar that was down the street. The bartender was this great guy who kept my wine glass from becoming empty. It was a great spanish red wine, sweet, but not too sweet. We made conversation with the guys that were sitting down the bar. Got a few birthday shots out of it. Now this is when the night started to become a little fuzzy. I start drinking water and we leave the bar. My friend was going to take me to her house where we were going to meet her man friend and de-head some shrimp ( yes, really) because I was looking all pretty and such, he was also going to bring a friend of his to meet me. So as we walk to the car, parked in the garage. We start up the stairs, we make it to the third story, well I make it to the third story before I stumble, drunkenly in my new Steve Madden's. I land on my foot, well, I guess I land on my foot as that's were my bones were broken (like I said details are fuzzy) My friend now yells at me to get my ass up. I try to stand, but that didn't go very well. So with her help, we somehow made it to her car (thanks to the red wine and shots I wasn't feeling much pain) and she drives me to the hospital. After four hours in the ER I was told I was going to need surgery to fix the bones. So I was admitted to the hospital, where I stayed for a week. They fixed my foot. I have never known pain before the day after my surgery. But I am home now. living on painkillers. I will be off the streets for at least three months. They have found me a position at HQ on light duty in which I am enternally grateful.

So the moral of the story is, never wear three inch heels, ever.

The Before

The Before
Originally uploaded by artist in the ambulance 190.

all bust up.

I am a dumbass. I have broken my foot after a night of celebrating my 27th birthday. I will be back soon with full story, but because of large doses of morphine and surgery I'm having trouble copleating full sentances. so It will be a few days before I will be back to blogging. Then do I have a story for you people. Well worth the wait.

Idiot...idiot...idiot

I lay here in the hospital, nervous because at 1645 tomorrow I have to have surgery. Surgery because in a nutshell, I am a dumbass. It was my birthday on Thursday. I turned old enough to know better on thursday. Seriously, thats an age...old enough to fucking know better. Its right in the middle of ages "legos are the coolest thing ever" and "gravity has now taken over my body and my breasts have started the revolution"

well I will give the story later, in involes a pair of patent leather heels, a very good spanish wine, and a flight of stairs but I'm tired now. So I will have to get back to you...

DUIs and why they suck.

There are very few people in this world I have absolutly no sympathy for. I mean none. Even crackheads and and the occasional drug dealer or prisoner from the jail who swallowed a dime bag of crack I can muster up some sort of compassion for. But Drunk Drivers, those fuckers, I have absolutly no sympathy for. I can say with complete confidence that I, myself have never driven home from a bar blitzed. I was shocked into not by the nursing staff at the Trauma Center when I was 18 when I was doing my photo essay. Since then I have never gotten behind the wheel of a vehicle after a night of bar hopping. (For two reason mainly, one, was I was made to listen to the doctor's tell a family member of a girl that was killed in a drunk driving accident that their daughter was dead, and two I was threated that if I ever came in as a DUI all of my clothes would be cut off regardless of my injuries and at 18 those are some heavy words to hear) I have three cab company's numbers in my cell, my dad will come if I can't find anyone else and I have even been known to call the on shift supervisor of my EMS system for a ride when the cab company wouldn't pick up the phone. I refuse to drive if I've had more than 3 beverages ( thats my cut off, Im not drunk, but I should not be driving after 3 good stiff drinks) So if I can call a cab so can the rest of humanity. There is absolutly no good reason you can give me that will change my mind. Oh, so you can't call a friend because they are just as intoxicated as you are or you cell phone is missing or the battery is dead, bullshit, every single bar will call a cab for you. Just ask the bartender. They may be a bit put out, but I'd rather have a put-out bartender than killing a family of four on your way home. And I don't know about some people, but my truck is my baby. I cried when the passenger side mirror was knocked off because some asshat left a bunch of cut trees out in the middle of the damn road. So I don't really want to flip over several times in the middle of the street because I was an idiot. And I don't want your dumbass hitting me, injuring me, killing me, on my way home from a long night of saving lives. So DUI's I have no sympathy for. Mostly because of the whole idiot thing and also because you are usually an asshole to me. I hate upon hate getting spit on or swung at. I hate getting cussed at. And every drunk driver I have ever come across in my short career has cussed at and/or spit at me. I have even had one that was so damn drunk he was totally oblivous that he was just responsible for the death of the two passengers in his own car. He even called me a bitch. So no, I have no sympathy for you if you drink and drive. I won't even give you the benefit of faking compassion. I will treat you, but only because the laws and policies of my system tell me I have too and I don't want to lose my certification as a paramedic. But, I will tie you down to a long spine board, I will put the biggest honking needle in your arms, I may even accidenty hit a few bumps on the way to the hospital. But respect, sympathy, compassion, you will not get. Okay I am now going to get down off my soapbox and go to bed. It was a long night. I had three drunk drivers back to back to back which is the cause of my rant. Hope everyone had a safe Halloween, until next year where I will be scraping up "slutty fairies, angels, and nurses" up off the concrete again.

Hail to the Chief.

So the highlight of my day was riding shotgun in an ambulance in the Presidential Motorcade with the Sex Pistol's "Anarchy in the UK" blaring on the radio. Today marks the fourth visit of the Leader of the Free World to our sleepy little southern city. It was for some Republican fundraiser. One could not really understand the chaos the ensues when this one man comes into town until it is actually witnessed. Never have I seen so many men in so many different uniforms in so many shiny black vehicles. We were staged on the Ritzy Island where he spoke to a bunch of rich- ass republicans. He landed on the Beach in that big helicopter, was skirted off into a town car and was then followed down the winding beach roads. It truly was a sight to behold. People lined the route, with motorcycle cops for every jurisdiction in the city stopped at every vehicle and person. There was even one dude, who I would say, was probably the only Democrat in the whole group, standing holding a sign written on what looked to be notebook paper that read "DEMOCRAT AND PROUD" I bet they payed extra attention to him, as there was two motorcycle cops on him. So we sat for 5 hours waiting for the helicopter to land, then snaked our way though through the island to the big hotel on Ritzy Island where we sat for another hour and a half while he spoke, then snaked our way back to the beach where he got back on the helicopter and left. I never saw The Man, we were too busy being presidential. But we did get to talk to some of the Secret Service guys outside of the hotel while the man was speaking. There was also a wedding going on at the same hotel at the same time as the visit. How the hell that happened is beyond me. That must have been a security nightmare. But it is not my job to worry about such things. We, (my partner and I) are now on some list somewhere stating that we are cleared by the government, that we are not terroists. So thats a good thing. When it was all said and done, I basicly got 9 hours of OT to just sit and wait in my Startched uniform and polished boots. I looked very presidential. And all I wanted was a photograph of the helicopter, but alas I did not get one. When he landing we had to be ready to go. And when it was all over it was night time and The exposure was too long for me to do anything hand held So all I got was a bunch of light streaks and blurs. damn. But, really, how many people can say they were part of the President's motorcade? I may not agree with everything the man does or says, but it still was a very cool experience to be part of something like this. It doesn't happen all the time.

I think I died

I had forgotten what 36 hours awake running non stop calls felt like. 21 calls in all, ranging from two woke up deads, one full arrest, one GSW, two fall down stairs, one stillborn 20 week fetus and a partidge in a pear tree. I have had my fill of emergency. Stick a fork in me I am fucking done. I went through six walkie batteries. I became a drug-administering, code-running, patienting-restraining angel of death. Currently I myself am only CAOx1, I can tell you my name, and thats about it, forget time and place I lost the ability to form full thoughts at around hour 20 and currently am running on fumes od adrinaline left over from dead baby call. I am not doing too well with that, but I am so tired that it doesn;t matter right at the moment. It will hit me after sleep.

I do have to laugh though, our last call of the night was right at shift change and my relief wasn't at the station yet. So we get called to unresponsive. I hate unresponsives this early in the AM because they are usually woke-up deads or diabetics. The Diabetics I can handle they are no-brainers, but WUDs they just suck. They are emotionally draining. Too much to process that damn early in the AM. Anyways this Unresponsive was of the diabetic variety. thank god. Gave the man some D50 and he perked right up. But This guy gave me the best response I ever got from a diabetic post D50. He was this 80 year old guy that lived in a pretty nasty part of the island. His wife, daughter, grand daughter and great grand son (who was five and thought the fire truck and ambulance was the "Coolest thing EVER!" (we let him hit the siren then he burst into a fit of giggles. So okay, the patient was the really cool old man once we woke him p. WHile he was still kinda coming around he looked up at me and said "You coming to take me to jail?" I responded with "No, I am a paramedic" He just nodded and asked for his "women" Which I took to mean his wife, daughters, ect. They came in with some grits and bacon and the guy sat up and started eating. After a few bites, he bacame quite alert and looked up at me and my partner and said "Well, I saw all you white people in my house, I thought you were coming to arrest me"
"No, no sir, why have you done anything we need to arrest you for?"
"Oh no Mam'am, Ya'll want some grits?"

the rough streets ain't that bad

I am beginning to kinda like the area I'm working in. It's growing on me, like a fungus. Yeah, it's eyeball deep in the ghetto. Get called to more assaults and crack-induced chest pain than say, LOLNAD calls you get in other parts of the city, but all in all not a bad place to work. The cops are cool as hell and have our backs when the going get rough, the fire guys are always willing to help so I can't complain. Even the people in the area, for the most part aren;t bad people, just a bit down on thier luck, or dirt poor. This is also an area where most of our systems frequent flyers live. The asthma kid down the street from our station, the ex-crackhead (who is off the stuff because of a team of our medics) with a bad case of CHF who lives with her sister in some run-down apartments a few blocks away, the dialysis guy that lives with his brother with HTN, CHF and IDDM (the BIG three here) that we sometime stop by to make sure his meds are all in line, and nurmerous others that we see on an almost daily basis. Enough for them to know our names and what shift we work. Ok, so occaionlly we hear gunfire in the area around the station, but I can tell you for a fact, that no matter what the medics, we don't get messed with. Its like the people know, just know, what we do. We are the life savers, we aren't there to arrest them, or beat them up, or cause trouble. We are there to help "Mama" when she ain't breathing right. I am learning. After working for most of my time as a medic in the more afluent parts of town I getting the rules down.
1. stay close to the cops and never close yourself in a room with a crack user or psych. They can turn on you in a second.
2. Its Sugar, not diabetes, its high blood not hypertension, its a Water Pill, not lasix. We aren't dumbing it down, we are just calling it what they call it.
3. first on the the truck drives, and drop the boxes they can be replaced, you, however can't.
4. Yes, you can actully put a Grill on a four year old ( i didn;t believe that either, till I saw it with my own eyes)
I like the people of the area. They are mostly kind. I have heard more "thank you's" come from these people that I ever had working in the other areas. Some of them are the most grateful, gracious people I have ever had to treat. Yes, there are a few bad ones in there, the ones that spit or swing. And yes, the psychs and street drunks are more prevalant here. But it ain't a bad gig.

Oh yeah we had our first jumper off the New Bridge. That dude had traffic backed up for hours. He fell 200+ feet into the river below. And damnit if the guy didn't live, with out so much as a scratch on him. When I asked the people what ended up being wrong, they simply said 'He was wet."

My 300 lb Migraine

Pain, I understand pain. I, myself, suffer from chronic migraines. I have suffered with them for years. They last for days and the Maxalt works but I have to take the max dose for the trhee, four days. I am supposed to take verapamil and amnitriptilyne (I know I just bitchered the spelling, but its the tricyclic, more bad spelling, anti-depression med)daily for them. I have even made many trips, myself, to the ER for migraines that seem to complaetly untouched by the meds I have at home to treat them. I also have had back surgery for two ruptured discs in my lumbar spine. So pain is something I understand. I always feel very bad for my chronic pain patients, whether its migraine pain, back pain, or leg pain. I have unbelievable symathy for these poor people. Some of these people truely suffer every single day of thier lives. But as much understanding I have for them, I find them the most frustrating. Some of them refuse to help themselves. Example: I was called to a migraine on a twenty-four year old female who was quite large (I'm talking 300+ lbs/136+ kgs) She has, like me, had long history of them. She was sprawled out supine on the living room floor right in the doorway of the apartment, in the dark. And she was SCREAMING...screaming obceneties, screaming nonsense words, just screaming. Her sister , who was holding her screaming daughter, was also yelling at me calling me a "racist white bitch" because I "Wasn't doing a damn thing" to help her sister and it was because "[the patient] was black, if she were white I would have brough th streatcher and would treat [the patient]". Now what I was doing was trying to calmly explain to [the patient] to quit holloring, it was just making her head hurt more, and that I needed for her to sit up so I could open the door to just get to her. But instead of helping me help her, just by sitting up, she just laid there fucking screaming. I literally could not open the front door more than a few inches. I tried to through the yelling to explain to her that I too have these type of headaches (and believe it or not, these are more than just a headache, migraines are a monster of a diffrent species) and that I would be happy to help her, but I needed her to just sit up, thats it, just sit up. Not stand, not walk, not jump up and down on one leg. I just wanted access to her so I could assess her. I just kept going "Ms D, Ms D, honey, you have got to sit up, I know your in pain, I know your head feels like someone is driving nails into it, but you have got to help me, you have got to sit up" Between Ms D and Ms D's sister I was developing a migraine. The only statement I hate more than "What's the worst thing you have every seen" is "you are treating me because I am [insert nationality here]" I don't give a damn if you a fucking day-glo green, I will treat you with respect regardless. Finally, she flung herself across the landing, but still lying on the nasty ass floor. I was fine with that, at least I could get the door open far enough for me to slip in. I got down on the floor to her level and queitly explained to her that I know what this pain feels like, but I needed her to get herslef, at least, up off the floor becasue there was no way that my little self could pick her up, she opened her eyes and sat up. I looked at my partner, who correctly read my look as "Call the Fire Dept for man power and Go get the gurney" My partner got the gurney and put in at the base of the four steps that were right outside the front door. Migraines are a head thing, so Her legs I know for a fact still worked. I explained to her that my bed is right outside the door, but because of her size, I needed her to ambulate about six feet to the waiting streatcher. By this time, I had quieted her down. She ablidged my request and I got her to her feet. As I am walking with her, she then all of a sudden collapses and because of her size I could not catch her. I then get an earful of more racist slurs from the sister. Damnit, I can't win for nothing. A crowd has now formed outside to the apartment door and I look like the bitch medic making the poor woman walk literally six feet down the four steps. Right after that the FD showed up and we picked her up and got her into the unit. Where her whole demeanor changes, she now refuses to answer any of my questions, like how long this has been going on and have you taken anything medication wise for it and what her birthdays is. SHe is giving me statements like "Just take me to the fucking hospital" and "You don;t need to know my birthday and SS number" I feel mt patience slippinf. I proceeded to sternly speak. "Ms D, I do know what this feels like, I get these migraines, but you are acting like a child. I can help you but you have got to help me help you, now what other medical history do you have?

Fuck. Thata was the most draining call I had had in a long while. I absoultly hate calls like this. I have to gather all of my restraint and compassion from deep within the core of my being just to keep my cool. So that I dont lose my shit. you have to help the medic sometimes. I did not make her walk because she was black, or because I am a mean and horrible medic. I made her ambualte because she could and I was not able to carry her. ABC also stands for Abulate before carry. I have already had my back fixed once, I might not be able to get if fixed again.

Stupid, Stupid, Stupid

I hate more than anything, people that are just a waste of protoplasm. That do nothing but try and fake their way outta trouble, wasting my time, my police officers' time by totally refusing to talk, walk or anything else thinking "Well they won't arrest me if I'm hurt" I am here to tell you fucking bullshit. They will still fucking arrest you, you gun-toting, drug-selling, crack-smoking jackass. Here are my rules, they are very simple

1. When I ask you your name, don't ignore me or pretend to be "Unconscious" I know you can talk. You were just in a foot persuit with the police officer. You can't run if you are "unconscious"

2. When I ask you if you have been using any sort of illict drugs, I'm not asking for my health, Im asking you for yours. Don't fucking lie to me. I know what crack smells like and I know that when you heart rate is fucking 200, you have been doing something. I may look like this innocent little chick medic, but I have been doing emergency medicine for a few years. I have seen alot.

3. Don't fake ANYTHING. That is including but not limited to seizures, head injury, SOB, CP, or death. I have ways of finding out that your faking it. And I will let the hospital of choice know that you are basicly being a douchbag.

4. SHow me the respect you would show your mother. Don't spit, hit, cuss at, or kick me.

I have fucking compassion. But when you try and play me a happy medic I will not be. And ask any one, you don't want a pissed off medic taking care of you. Yes, I will treat you. Yes, I will be patient. But don't think I won't use the largest IV needle I got and I have no hang-ups in restraining your ass.

Guns, Guns, and more Guns

What is with the city these days. My normaly quiet southern town is being riddled with bullets. We are literally treating several Gunshots a day here. As in more than one. In the past few weeks we have had at least nine deaths due to the growing violence in the city. And thats just the ones I have heard about, or have been witness to. We had a gunman open fire on a club on one of the islands I think 8 were shot total there, one maybe two deaths from that. A possible gang related shooting where five were treated for bullet holes, one shot fatally. A step father executed his family in a trailer in the north district. Five from that, including the four kids ranging in age from 6-16 years of age. And most recently a robbery gone bad at a resteraunt, also in the north district, were the manager was fatally shot in the head. Then there was the taser death in which a cracked-out man decided to go after police. Now I ve already written about the tasers, but A recent artical in the paper, just really chapped my ass. The man that died, I am very sorry for that, but he went after one of the officer's gun. That actually justifies using deadly force. But instead of using his gun, the officers decided to use the non lethal weapon of choice the taser. Because of the drug use, the man was out of control, and I feel the officers did exactly what they should have. Had they used a gun and shot the man a diffrent debate would be going on. But I won;t get started on the Tasers again. I've already made my point with that one. But the gun violence is new to this city. We have had our share of violence, however it has been getting increaseingly bad. I am getting tired of having to pronouce dead children. A six year old should not have to worry about getting shot in the head while playing.

Being a medic I really have no control over the law enforcement side of things and all I know about forensics is what I see on CSI. I am here only to patch-up the injuried and stabilze them during thier trip to the trauma center. I have no idea how to fix these things. I don't know if gun contol in the answer because they will just find new ways to obtaine weapons. Maybee Chris Rock has the answer. He proposed in an old stand-up routine to instead of making guns harder to get, just make the bullets $15,000 a piece, that way, maybe, these people will think about what they are wasting their 15 grand peice of lead on. Would you really think that a bullet that expensive would be used in a robbery where you might get 300 bucks. I don;t think so.

ghetto truck and to tase or not to tase

Well..Well Back on the streetsfor my first full weekend. And oh how I have missed my District 2 crackheads. I was brought back to work on one of our trucks that work in the "scary" part of the city. Mostly Assaults, Shootings, Stabbings, psychs, drunks and general mischeif. Which is fine by me. Trauma calls, my friends, are easy calls. Not much too them. Bandage them up and take them to the hospital. Maybe start a huge fucking IV or two and do some Airway work if they are bad enough, but for the most part they don't even get to lay on the stretcher. The get the "Bench Seat Treatment" Some of them you feel bad for, some of them, I hate to say get what they deserved. I can only think that if they can be rude to me, the chick medic, I can only imagine what they did to get their asses hit over the head with a bottle of Wild Irish Rose.

Now, what is the general idea about Tasers? We had an incident with a suspect getting Tased here and subsequently died. Not from the Taser, mind you. But from the huge rock of crack that he smoked (that made his heart explode) just prior to the Tasing. However this is not mentioned in the newspaper. This is giving the police that partol out streets, that keep the people safe, or at least try to, and that cover my ass when I go into violent scenes a bad rap. I, myself, belive whole heartedly in the Taser. Would you like to go back to the old way of either a nightstick, or even better a gunshot wound? I have seen these things in action, and Im here to tell you, it will stop a guy in his tracks. But it is a great non-leathal weapon, espicially for the violent people that it gets used on. I have never, ever seen one misused, and I have seen it used quite a bit. I have many friends who are police officers and I would rather see them use the Taser than, them get shot or stabbed by some out-of-control, high on god knows what, street thug bastard. But this is my own opinion. I would also rather get called to pull the little prongs out, rather than get called to a GSW to the chest. Chest wounds are just a whole hell of alot of work for someone who probally won't make it anyways. I get all sweaty, and that just can piss me off. So I ask you which would you rather have to deal with...a taserprong or a bullet. Because quite honestly, that is what it all boils down to.