Sitting around the dinner table this evening, we were discussing some of the better practical jokes and pranks in circulation around the department. Bill, who is a senior engineer and looks like Santa Claus - although the twinkle in the eye usually has a slightly sinister hint to it, has always been a master of the subtle prank. Once while golfing, he went on at length how a wheel cart for the clubs was so nice since the golf bag got heavy during a long hot day of carrying it around 18 holes. After a couple of hours and his continued mentioning how a cart was so nice, I was beginning to agree that the bag did get heavy. After another couple of holes, I really was getting rather tired of carrying the heavy bag. As I went to put a club away, I noticed that it did not properly go into the bag. After a bit of investigation, I discovered about 20 lbs of nice round stones in my bag. Apparently, he had been slowly adding a rock or two every time I turned my back on my bag.
On another occasion, there was a new guy on the department that had a very and methodical way of doing everything. He would spend hours researching the most mundane purchase and agonized over every detail of everything he did. He soon earned the nickname of "Fast Eddie" since you had to set stakes and measure to see if he was actually moving most of the time. Once Bill saw the opening, he rapidly developed and executed a most diabolical plan. Preying on Fast Eddie's attention to detail, he began adding very minute particles of a particularly aromatic blue cheese to Fast Eddie's footwear. After a few weeks of this, Fast Eddie was rapidly (for him) working his way through all the known home remedies. He tried foot powder. He tried odor eater insoles. He bought a foot bath and spent a lot of time soaking his feet. At this point, it was time for Bill to raise the stakes. Bill started carrying a small container of cheese with him at all times and even when not working at the same station, they could end up on the same scene. So while Fast Eddie was lugging some poor hurting soul to the ambulance, Bill would be putting just that perfect touch to the essence of awful odor on the steering wheel. So, Fast Eddie now had to explain to his partners that "he had a personal problem" because even though there was usually not enough for others to smell, Fast Eddie knew it was there. Next, Fast Eddie sought medical help for this on-going embarrassment and actually went to a doctor to try to get a solution for the horror that was seemingly following him around. The end of the story seems to have been lost in the dark recesses of the minds of those who love to spend the evening around the firehouse dinner table laughing until it hurts...
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Friday, December 22, 2006
It was a Dark and Cold Night...
Last night we were dispatched to "man down" which is catch-all for anything weird related to people that are not moving or behaving in a proper manner. Usually, this is an intoxicated person that somehow failed to get out of sight before taking a nap. In this particular case, we were not exactly sure what to expect since the temperature was well below freezing and the average self-medicated drunk usually avoids napping on a sidewalk in that kind of weather. So, at about 10 PM we rolled out on the call to find a construction worker sitting in his pickup with the engine running. Since this was on a pan handle lot (driveway past one house near the street accessing a rear lot), we pulled into the drive and parked, proceeding on foot back to where the pickup truck was located. We found a DRT which in Paramedic terms means "dead right there". Apparently, he had finished work about 4-5 hours prior, went to the truck, and then had a heart attack or something of that nature. So after hours of sitting in the truck with the engine running, neighbors noticed the unusual behavior and initiated that ambiguous "man down" call.
As the neighbors gathered, along with the police doing their investigation, we took our cue from the freezing wind and tried to leave. At the point we opened the door to the fire engine, everything went dead. I mean, no lights, no engine, no starting, no nothing. So at this uncomfortable scene, we find ourselves stranded with the embarrassment of a dead engine.
To make a long story short, we spent the next two hours waiting in the cold for a tow truck to move our fire engine, and switching all of our gear to a reserve engine.
As the neighbors gathered, along with the police doing their investigation, we took our cue from the freezing wind and tried to leave. At the point we opened the door to the fire engine, everything went dead. I mean, no lights, no engine, no starting, no nothing. So at this uncomfortable scene, we find ourselves stranded with the embarrassment of a dead engine.
To make a long story short, we spent the next two hours waiting in the cold for a tow truck to move our fire engine, and switching all of our gear to a reserve engine.
Monday, November 13, 2006
Stories so Weird They Have to be True
I really believe that I run into so much weirdness in real life, that I have not a chance of making something up that would be as strange. I have a couple of examples to share:
Last shift just after our arrival on duty, we were dispatched to an auto accident on the freeway near the river. It was reported that a black Acura had gone out of control on the very wet pavement and had gone down a very steep bank and through the fence. With that much detail and with several calls to the 911 system, we were expecting to find a non-injured person sitting in their damaged car. When we got in the area, all we saw was a deep set of muddy tracks since it was raining hard all night and continuing to come down hard. Our curiosity dictated that we at least try to see where the car was, and we always want verify that no one was significantly injured.
After a bit of maneuvering, we managed to get onto the dead-end country road that meandered back along the river. The first thing we noticed, was the set of tracks came out of the cow pasture and appeared to head down towards the end of the dead-end road. As we followed the road it became extremely narrow to the point the fire engine was almost touching the fences on both sides. Just ahead, the trees became so overgrown, it was impossible to continue except on foot. At this point, significant alarms were sounding in my head. I really was wondering if I wanted to meet the person in a dark overgrown backwoods area who had just demonstrated a significant lack of socially acceptable behavior. I decided it was time to call for some reinforcements and we proceeded to back out the lane. As were traveling back out, it was noticed that the car had run off the lane and struck the fence at one point. It had left a door handle hanging on the fence, a mirror on the ground, and an Acura emblem just to underline our suspicions that the car was actually hiding out at the end of the lane.
The sad end to this story is that the real story might never be told. Once the police arrived, they were quite eager to investigate, since they had some known marijuana growing operations in the direction that the car had disappeared. We left the mystery in their capable hands and returned to quarters.
Last shift just after our arrival on duty, we were dispatched to an auto accident on the freeway near the river. It was reported that a black Acura had gone out of control on the very wet pavement and had gone down a very steep bank and through the fence. With that much detail and with several calls to the 911 system, we were expecting to find a non-injured person sitting in their damaged car. When we got in the area, all we saw was a deep set of muddy tracks since it was raining hard all night and continuing to come down hard. Our curiosity dictated that we at least try to see where the car was, and we always want verify that no one was significantly injured.
After a bit of maneuvering, we managed to get onto the dead-end country road that meandered back along the river. The first thing we noticed, was the set of tracks came out of the cow pasture and appeared to head down towards the end of the dead-end road. As we followed the road it became extremely narrow to the point the fire engine was almost touching the fences on both sides. Just ahead, the trees became so overgrown, it was impossible to continue except on foot. At this point, significant alarms were sounding in my head. I really was wondering if I wanted to meet the person in a dark overgrown backwoods area who had just demonstrated a significant lack of socially acceptable behavior. I decided it was time to call for some reinforcements and we proceeded to back out the lane. As were traveling back out, it was noticed that the car had run off the lane and struck the fence at one point. It had left a door handle hanging on the fence, a mirror on the ground, and an Acura emblem just to underline our suspicions that the car was actually hiding out at the end of the lane.
The sad end to this story is that the real story might never be told. Once the police arrived, they were quite eager to investigate, since they had some known marijuana growing operations in the direction that the car had disappeared. We left the mystery in their capable hands and returned to quarters.
Just this morning, the medic crew returned from the hospital with another tale so weird. While at the hospital, they were asked to assist with a combative female psych patient. This is fairly common for ER staff to enlist the help of any able and willing muscle in such a situation. The guys found the staff attempting to hold down a large writhing woman. They jumped in to assist and each got ahold of a limb so that some medication could be administered in hope of calming the patient. As usual some merciful person thought that too much force was being used and that if they would just ask nice, the patient would be compliant. As usual, as soon as the restraint was released, the patient attempted to get in a few good licks before once again being restrained.
It is important to this tale to point out that the patient was a "cutter". This is fairly common in severely depressed people in that they regularly cut themselves. This behavior is not necessarily suicidal in nature, but they will present with many large cuts, primarily on arms and legs. As in this case, the woman had many wounds of various states of healing, from scars to open wounds and many with multiple stitches.
Back at the station, conversation reverted back to the mundane. At that point one paramedic asked the other, "What is that on your shirt?" In utter horror, the paramedic looks down to find a two inch long scab from the patient somehow adhered to his shirt. Needless to say, after the creepy shuddering subsided, the paramedic changed his uniform as fast as possible.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Raisin Runs
We have been doing a lot of "raisin runs" lately. For those that are not in the business, "raisin runs" at a "raisin ranch" is our colorful description of those of the geriatric persuasion. This crowd tends to occupy a lot of our time, and not always because of anything close to an emergency. Somehow we have convinced the public that 911 is a on-size-fits-all for any problem, even if that problem is loneliness.
One of the newer ways that people have come to demand our services is when some poor little old lady trips and falls. Now, in many cases, she is not hurt and would gladly get up and go her way. But then in rushes the do-gooder crowd of senile cohorts that somehow got the message that it could be BAD if she got up and toddled off. So they force the poor shivering lady to lay on the cold concrete with rain soaking up her Depends while they wait for us to arrive. Once we get there, she normally says something like, "can I just get up now?" And usually, other than a mild case of hypothermia, she is fine with only minor bumps and bruises.
One of the newer ways that people have come to demand our services is when some poor little old lady trips and falls. Now, in many cases, she is not hurt and would gladly get up and go her way. But then in rushes the do-gooder crowd of senile cohorts that somehow got the message that it could be BAD if she got up and toddled off. So they force the poor shivering lady to lay on the cold concrete with rain soaking up her Depends while they wait for us to arrive. Once we get there, she normally says something like, "can I just get up now?" And usually, other than a mild case of hypothermia, she is fine with only minor bumps and bruises.
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Unhealthy Living
Ran a rather interesting call on a 57 year old female the other day. Apparently, she had a history of back pain, and was known to use her pain medications rather liberally. That being bad enough, she also seemed to have a problem with mixing alcohol with those medications. This is a fairly common scenario and we often find people with a depressed respiratory drive and a decreased level of consciousness (LOC).
That was about the description we had rolling on this call where the woman appeared to be sleeping, but they could not wake her. On our arrival, we found her breathing at about 4 times a minute and with a heart rate of about 38. Those vital signs, being very marginal, prompted us to attempt to improve her breathing and heartrate. We also noticed that her arms, legs, and even head were cold to the touch in a normally heated room. As we began giving oxygen and starting an IV, her heart rate and respirations drastically improved to the point of being well within the normal range. With a lot of effort, due to the significant weight of the patient, we moved her to the ambulance and began transport.
Within a very short time, she suddenly took a turn for the worse, and basically died enroute to the hospital. In trying to analyze what happened, I worked up the hypothesis that this was probably caused by something we call "compartment syndrome". This occurs when a person is trapped and lose circulation to a significant part of their body such was a tree falling across the waist and leaving the legs without circulation for a period of time. When the person is "rescued" the blood that was stagnant in the lower extremities is introduced suddenly back into the body and death occurs. I concluded that this might have been the same scenario because of the lack of profusion with the obese woman just lying on her bed. Please feel free to post any comments you might have had with a similar case or just attempt to prove me either correct or wrong!
That was about the description we had rolling on this call where the woman appeared to be sleeping, but they could not wake her. On our arrival, we found her breathing at about 4 times a minute and with a heart rate of about 38. Those vital signs, being very marginal, prompted us to attempt to improve her breathing and heartrate. We also noticed that her arms, legs, and even head were cold to the touch in a normally heated room. As we began giving oxygen and starting an IV, her heart rate and respirations drastically improved to the point of being well within the normal range. With a lot of effort, due to the significant weight of the patient, we moved her to the ambulance and began transport.
Within a very short time, she suddenly took a turn for the worse, and basically died enroute to the hospital. In trying to analyze what happened, I worked up the hypothesis that this was probably caused by something we call "compartment syndrome". This occurs when a person is trapped and lose circulation to a significant part of their body such was a tree falling across the waist and leaving the legs without circulation for a period of time. When the person is "rescued" the blood that was stagnant in the lower extremities is introduced suddenly back into the body and death occurs. I concluded that this might have been the same scenario because of the lack of profusion with the obese woman just lying on her bed. Please feel free to post any comments you might have had with a similar case or just attempt to prove me either correct or wrong!
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Real Stories of Real Characters
Two guys were trying some sort of process with illegal drugs. Apparently the process involved butane (flammable gas) and a pressure vessel. While working on the process, they decided to take a break and smoke (presumably some of their product). The fact they chose to combine the process of flammable gas and an ignition source is probably a testimony to the declining cognitive powers of those using illegal drugs. Anyway, the resulting explosion put both of them in the burn ward and burned down a significant part of their house.
Late in the evening, we were dispatched to a chest pain call in a working-class neighborhood. We were somewhat surprised to find a very well dressed middle-aged woman sitting on the steps of a house. It was apparent that she was very stressed and was having a hard time talking while catching her breath. She handed us an engraved calling card that indicated that she lived in California. When asked why she was having chest pain, she stated that she had been running (in heels and a smart business suit). That of course, led to "why were you running?" Apparently, she was in town to visit her sister, had been in a taxi, and that is when things got weird. The taxi driver (likely a relative of the guys above) seemed to be having a psychotic episode that included yelling and screaming, jumping curbs, and sliding corners. When the poor lady begged to be let out, he gave her a chance to make her getaway. She then "ran for her life" ended up on a stranger's porch and was having chest pain.
Note to self: avoid the taxi where is driver is talking to an invisible person without the benefit of a cell phone or radio...
Friday, September 08, 2006
Lots of Characters
People are interesting... we were driving back to the station today and saw a column of black smoke coming from a house. We immediately went into emergency mode and went to fight the fire. Only problem - it was a couple of intellectually challenged guys burning trash in their fireplace. Not only was it a warm day, but they were burning (illegally) some really nasty plastic junk. I am not sure really why, but it is common for people to burn things in order to not pay for garbage service. Really seems to make the neighbors angry.
Then of course there is the wise man who thought he would dispose of his Christmas tree by burning it in the fire place. The tree (being a tree of usual Christmas tree size) did not exactly fit neatly into the fireplace. The simple solution, stick the tip in, wait for that to burn off, and then advance the tree on into the fireplace. Theoretically, it could work, but not with a tinder-dry Christmas tree. It promptly detonated into a raging fireball, set the room of fire, and sent the frugal tree-disposer to the hospital.
Then of course there is the wise man who thought he would dispose of his Christmas tree by burning it in the fire place. The tree (being a tree of usual Christmas tree size) did not exactly fit neatly into the fireplace. The simple solution, stick the tip in, wait for that to burn off, and then advance the tree on into the fireplace. Theoretically, it could work, but not with a tinder-dry Christmas tree. It promptly detonated into a raging fireball, set the room of fire, and sent the frugal tree-disposer to the hospital.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Access to Healthcare
One of the on-going issues in my profession is the utilization of emergency services for mundane issues and minor health-related concerns. For example, I have had numerous requests for ambulance transport because the patient had visited their regular doctor, but since the patient didn't like what they heard, they wanted to get a second opinion from the ER doctor. Of course, they wrongly assumed that if they took an ambulance to the ER, they would get to move to the front of the line for treatment. Usually, this "treatment" is no more than a slight adjustment of the amount of a hypertension medication or some other similarly minor tweak in their treatment.
A parallel problem is trying to get access to a doctor to deal with these issues. It is obvious that a patient with on-going health problems really should be talking with their regular doctor. This brings us to one of our 'frequent flyer' patients. "Mary" was an elderly diabetic who lived with her 3 cats, bowls of candy, eclectic music collection, and her paranoia. She frequently called to request transport because she was tired, ran out of medication, was having a bad day, etc. One day about about 2 PM we were dispatched to her apartment because of "shaking". Once we arrived, she explained that the doctor had given her a new prescription (to add to the dozen or so she currently took) and it made her feel "funny". Because of that horrible reaction, she stopped taking ALL of her medications. Now after about 6 hours with no medication, she was not feeling quite right.
It was obvious that we were going to recommend she resumed her usual dosages of her medications and likely the symptoms would go away. Just to be on the safe side, I decided to call her doctor who practiced at a large nearby clinic. I picked up her phone, dialed the number, and was surprised to hear, "...the number you are calling is not accepting calls at this time". Since it was the middle of the day and this was a multi-office clinic, I felt I must have mis-dialed. I repeated with the same results. On a whim, I grabbed my cell phone and dialed the same number. It was answered on the first ring, and within 10 seconds I was on the line with the doctor who did not need any help in recalling this particular patient. He agreed with our plan and recommended that we should not transport.
Once we were on the road back to the station, I suddenly realized - the doctor had blocked her number!
I am not sure what to conclude from this, but some days I wish the 911 system could block a few more numbers.
Actual reasons for 911 dispatch from my own experience:
A parallel problem is trying to get access to a doctor to deal with these issues. It is obvious that a patient with on-going health problems really should be talking with their regular doctor. This brings us to one of our 'frequent flyer' patients. "Mary" was an elderly diabetic who lived with her 3 cats, bowls of candy, eclectic music collection, and her paranoia. She frequently called to request transport because she was tired, ran out of medication, was having a bad day, etc. One day about about 2 PM we were dispatched to her apartment because of "shaking". Once we arrived, she explained that the doctor had given her a new prescription (to add to the dozen or so she currently took) and it made her feel "funny". Because of that horrible reaction, she stopped taking ALL of her medications. Now after about 6 hours with no medication, she was not feeling quite right.
It was obvious that we were going to recommend she resumed her usual dosages of her medications and likely the symptoms would go away. Just to be on the safe side, I decided to call her doctor who practiced at a large nearby clinic. I picked up her phone, dialed the number, and was surprised to hear, "...the number you are calling is not accepting calls at this time". Since it was the middle of the day and this was a multi-office clinic, I felt I must have mis-dialed. I repeated with the same results. On a whim, I grabbed my cell phone and dialed the same number. It was answered on the first ring, and within 10 seconds I was on the line with the doctor who did not need any help in recalling this particular patient. He agreed with our plan and recommended that we should not transport.
Once we were on the road back to the station, I suddenly realized - the doctor had blocked her number!
I am not sure what to conclude from this, but some days I wish the 911 system could block a few more numbers.
Actual reasons for 911 dispatch from my own experience:
- my cat is sick and I am afraid I will catch whatever they have
- I burned my finger lighting a match and now the grocery store is closed and I can't buy any ice for my finger
- I heard a noise - I think it was a car
- while driving to the ER, three blocks away - I got sick and vomited, now I need an ambulance to transport me the rest of the way (nausea and vomiting had stopped by the time of our arrival)
- roof fire (sun warming up the frost on the roof)
- "the doctor said I should get my blood pressure checked"
- I can't afford a taxi - can you take me to the next town?
And many more...
Monday, August 21, 2006
An Honor...I Think
Found out today that my crew and I had our picture published in a magazine. It was kind of a nice story about a couple of boys (one of which was blind) that came home and thought their house was on fire. They called their dad on the cell phone and he called 911. When we arrived, we found that an attic vent fan had started an attic fire. We were able to crawl up into the attic and put the fire out with minimal damage to the house. It turned out that he was a magazine publisher and asked if he could take our picture since we saved his whole home/office based business from going up in smoke. He took the picture with the boys and then published it (the photo is scanned from the magazine). Unlike the caption indicates, I am am the one in with the red helmet and not Jon the firefighter who actually did all the hard work in a very hot attic on a very hot day.
Well, today we got our copies of the magazine which is called Traditional Lowriding a features a lot of show cars and SoCal pictures of the lowrider scene. Only problem I have is that the issue we received featured a lot of very very scantily clad females draping themselves over the cars.
So, although it was an honor to get our picture published, it is not likely that I can show it around to say...my mother?
Sunday, August 06, 2006
Why Did You Call?
We have had a rash of weird reasons for calling the emergency 911 system recently. Actually, it is an on-going problem and a woman was recently prosecuted for calling 911 to have a police officer come to her house because she thought he was "cute". Some of the not-so-cute calls we had in the last few days were:
- Emergency response for a headache - admittedly, the so-called patient thought that if he would not have drank some much beer, he would not have the headache.
- Complaint of allergic reaction to medication - but on our arrival the complaint changed to "hurting all over". Somehow the patient decided he was now "allergic" to his anti-psychotic medication that he had been taking (and doing quite well) for about 6 months. He suddenly decided he was allergic and stopped his medication. Surprisingly enough, he was having significant issues with paranoia and anxiety.
- Code 3 emergency response for an overdose because a lady thought the prescribed single pill of Vicodin was not doing the trick and took two. Never mind that the last time she had the same prescription, the label said "take one or two every four hours."
I have to keep reminding myself, just because it does not appear to be an "emergency" to me, it still might seem that way to the person calling 911...
Friday, July 28, 2006
Retold Story
The following is a story I wrote a few years ago when I was asked to submit "street stories" to be published in a fire fighter's text book. This particular story did not make it to print, so I will publish it here:
Bill was a bully. It was a well-known fact. As I prepared to move to his station (I was the young, new Lieutenant) the departing officer and others warned me of his temper. It was not that Bill was a bad guy, he was an exceptional engineer, knew his area, and was willing to teach others his trade. It was just that he pumped iron all day like a prison inmate, never smiled, and used every opportunity to perpetuate the idea that he would physical assault anyone who crossed him. Rumor had it that he was no longer a paramedic because he threw a less-than-cooperative patient out the back door of the ambulance.I do not even remember the source of the conflict that put me squarely in Bill's crosshairs that day. It might have been anything that struck him wrong. The bottom line was that I was going to do something and Bill was certain that I should not. Without either of us raising our voices, I was suddenly too close to a glowering, muscle-bound, angry man. As he clenched his fists and stepped into my "personal space" I did the only thing that came to mind - I simply stepped a bit closer and tilted my chin to make a great target for him. I never did find that technique in any management book on personnel conflict, but it worked. He immediately backed down and apologized. I was amazed. In retrospect, and once my knees stopped shaking, I realized that I had simply called his bluff. He knew that one simple contact with his fist and he would no longer be working with me. He had too much to lose. By standing up for what I knew was right, I indicated that I was not going to play the game he used so often. He had no choice but to back down. In looking back at this incident, I realize now that Bill respected what I did and we actually became friends.Sometimes a company officer needs to stand up for what he or she believes is right and be willing to take the hit. I believe this sort of risk taking is an important aspect of leadership. Even if you deserve respect, it will not come automatically by taking the easy way out.
Bill was a bully. It was a well-known fact. As I prepared to move to his station (I was the young, new Lieutenant) the departing officer and others warned me of his temper. It was not that Bill was a bad guy, he was an exceptional engineer, knew his area, and was willing to teach others his trade. It was just that he pumped iron all day like a prison inmate, never smiled, and used every opportunity to perpetuate the idea that he would physical assault anyone who crossed him. Rumor had it that he was no longer a paramedic because he threw a less-than-cooperative patient out the back door of the ambulance.I do not even remember the source of the conflict that put me squarely in Bill's crosshairs that day. It might have been anything that struck him wrong. The bottom line was that I was going to do something and Bill was certain that I should not. Without either of us raising our voices, I was suddenly too close to a glowering, muscle-bound, angry man. As he clenched his fists and stepped into my "personal space" I did the only thing that came to mind - I simply stepped a bit closer and tilted my chin to make a great target for him. I never did find that technique in any management book on personnel conflict, but it worked. He immediately backed down and apologized. I was amazed. In retrospect, and once my knees stopped shaking, I realized that I had simply called his bluff. He knew that one simple contact with his fist and he would no longer be working with me. He had too much to lose. By standing up for what I knew was right, I indicated that I was not going to play the game he used so often. He had no choice but to back down. In looking back at this incident, I realize now that Bill respected what I did and we actually became friends.Sometimes a company officer needs to stand up for what he or she believes is right and be willing to take the hit. I believe this sort of risk taking is an important aspect of leadership. Even if you deserve respect, it will not come automatically by taking the easy way out.
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
You're Only as Old as...
I have come to the conclusion that age is really relative to how old you think you are. I have met very old people (physically and emotionally) that were in their mid-forties. I have also met people who were young at 80+. Working with the geriatric crowd used to really depress me. I was getting to the point that I did not want to get old and everything associated with age was horrible. Granted, in my line of work, much of what I do revolves around the elderly and there associated ailments and complaints.
A few years back I was assigned to medical standby a Master's track meet. It was one of the most encouraging, attitude changing events in my life. We were surrounded by many athletes, the youngest being about 55 years old. They were all having the time of their lives. One little guy in a hot pink suit jogged up to talk to us and while jogging in place, stated that he could see how those "old" people could do the distance events, since he felt he really could not do that any more. When we asked what event he was in, he stated, "the hurdles!"...at 88 years old! A few minutes later, we watched the hurdles and on the third jump, a very tall 74 year old man caught the hurdle and went down in a bleeding heap. As we grabbed our gear, we watched in amazement as he staggered to his feet, ignored the bleeding, and finished second.
This was a quiet shift with only two calls. Our average patient age was 95. One was old at 92, and the other was a spry young gentleman of 97. Apparently, he is sharp as a tack and works at least two crossword puzzles a day. If only we all could be that young...
A few years back I was assigned to medical standby a Master's track meet. It was one of the most encouraging, attitude changing events in my life. We were surrounded by many athletes, the youngest being about 55 years old. They were all having the time of their lives. One little guy in a hot pink suit jogged up to talk to us and while jogging in place, stated that he could see how those "old" people could do the distance events, since he felt he really could not do that any more. When we asked what event he was in, he stated, "the hurdles!"...at 88 years old! A few minutes later, we watched the hurdles and on the third jump, a very tall 74 year old man caught the hurdle and went down in a bleeding heap. As we grabbed our gear, we watched in amazement as he staggered to his feet, ignored the bleeding, and finished second.
This was a quiet shift with only two calls. Our average patient age was 95. One was old at 92, and the other was a spry young gentleman of 97. Apparently, he is sharp as a tack and works at least two crossword puzzles a day. If only we all could be that young...
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Mistaken Alarm
Many times when we get dispatched, it is apparent that the call taker and the dispatcher have no clue as to the real nature of the so-called problem. Sometimes these are defined as a "Mistaken Alarm". This includes the famous car radiator overheat that gets dispatched as a car fire, the occasional steam from a clothes dryer, the ever exciting low cloud / building on fire confusion, and my all time favorite - flames showing with the actual dispatch details explaining that this was reported by a passing motorist with bad eyesight (it was of course...the "Eternal Flame" in front of the sports complex). Often we get dispatched to something like "an unknown problem" which is the technical term for "send the fire department 'cause we have no clue as to what is going on and there might really be an emergency but we not sure but since we cannot get a straight answer from the intoxicated or otherwise impaired caller...We HAVE to do something because the caller sounds really really upset...So there might be a problem that could be fixed by a well-equipment and trained firefighter".
The other night, we went out siren screaming, lights flashing, to a young female who was upset about the love triangle she was in. Well, not really a love triangle...As near as I could calculate, it was more like a love tetrahedron or some other equally confusing geometric shape. I was not inclined at 0315 in the morning to try to sort all that out, but it was apparent that she felt that someone in this relationship(s) did not have her best interest in mind. Somehow that triggered a call to the 911 system which then translated into an "emergency" (see above). When we arrived, she promptly stated that she did not want an ambulance or a firetruck to show up since that was not going to fix her problems. We agreed and once again questioned the decision making algorithm employed by the 911 dispatchers.
So soon after trying to recoup from the confusion of the previous call, we were dispatched to a 92 year old female trying to die peacefully in a nursing home. When we arrived, the on-duty nurse stated that the patient, her daughter, and doctor had done the right thing. They had completed the paperwork that stated she did not want to be put on life support, given CPR, etc. Since the old gal was winding down, the paperwork stated she could only be given "comfort measures" which did not include an IV or medications. The nurse wanted an emergency transport to the ER for the doctor to prescribe "comfort measures". I wanted to say (but restrained myself), I can write you the prescription for an extra blanket and a glass of water. There is nothing that would be done for the lady at the hospital and nothing was going to change the outcome, other than that the old lady would be moved out of her living space surrounded by her friends and thrust into the chaos of the ER to live out the last few hours of her life.
The other night, we went out siren screaming, lights flashing, to a young female who was upset about the love triangle she was in. Well, not really a love triangle...As near as I could calculate, it was more like a love tetrahedron or some other equally confusing geometric shape. I was not inclined at 0315 in the morning to try to sort all that out, but it was apparent that she felt that someone in this relationship(s) did not have her best interest in mind. Somehow that triggered a call to the 911 system which then translated into an "emergency" (see above). When we arrived, she promptly stated that she did not want an ambulance or a firetruck to show up since that was not going to fix her problems. We agreed and once again questioned the decision making algorithm employed by the 911 dispatchers.
So soon after trying to recoup from the confusion of the previous call, we were dispatched to a 92 year old female trying to die peacefully in a nursing home. When we arrived, the on-duty nurse stated that the patient, her daughter, and doctor had done the right thing. They had completed the paperwork that stated she did not want to be put on life support, given CPR, etc. Since the old gal was winding down, the paperwork stated she could only be given "comfort measures" which did not include an IV or medications. The nurse wanted an emergency transport to the ER for the doctor to prescribe "comfort measures". I wanted to say (but restrained myself), I can write you the prescription for an extra blanket and a glass of water. There is nothing that would be done for the lady at the hospital and nothing was going to change the outcome, other than that the old lady would be moved out of her living space surrounded by her friends and thrust into the chaos of the ER to live out the last few hours of her life.
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Firehouse Food
After dinner we were sitting around talking about the amazing eating habits of some firefighters. One guy in particular seemed to create the most stories and examples of power eating. Since this guy is only about 175 pounds, it makes the quantities even more startling. One example given was an occasion when he opened a new jar of strawberry jam and ate the whole thing on his waffles. A quick check by the ever-observant fellow firefighters pegged the caloric intake at just over 3000 calories for the jam alone. Of course you could not have just waffles without a few glasses of milk and orange juice.
Ice cream is considered a staple a firehouse, much like salt or flour would be in some other kitchens. In this fellow's case, a half gallon is good for only about one serving. Just to make sure to infuriate the other firefighters, you have to leave about one spoonful wilting on the bottom of the container before returning it to the freezer. Ice cream is standard fair if you work a shift of overtime, have a birthday, get your picture in the paper, or about any other excuse your crew might make up.
Speaking of ice cream, a story is told of Keven, one of the senior firefighters, when told he had to go do a physical fitness test on a stationary bicycle, took a half gallon of ice cream to eat during the test. This legendary firefighter has an amazing story which I shall try to relate more at a later date. In one case he did a training video about rescuing large victims in which he played the victim. As the two other firefighters in full gear (likely about 260 lbs each) introduced the video segment, after about 3-4 minutes of intro, the camera pans back to show the two heavily laden firefighters had been sitting on Keven's shoulders throughout the intro presentation. Keven was simply standing there with 500+ lbs on his shoulders and a huge grin on his face. More about Keven later...
Ice cream is considered a staple a firehouse, much like salt or flour would be in some other kitchens. In this fellow's case, a half gallon is good for only about one serving. Just to make sure to infuriate the other firefighters, you have to leave about one spoonful wilting on the bottom of the container before returning it to the freezer. Ice cream is standard fair if you work a shift of overtime, have a birthday, get your picture in the paper, or about any other excuse your crew might make up.
Speaking of ice cream, a story is told of Keven, one of the senior firefighters, when told he had to go do a physical fitness test on a stationary bicycle, took a half gallon of ice cream to eat during the test. This legendary firefighter has an amazing story which I shall try to relate more at a later date. In one case he did a training video about rescuing large victims in which he played the victim. As the two other firefighters in full gear (likely about 260 lbs each) introduced the video segment, after about 3-4 minutes of intro, the camera pans back to show the two heavily laden firefighters had been sitting on Keven's shoulders throughout the intro presentation. Keven was simply standing there with 500+ lbs on his shoulders and a huge grin on his face. More about Keven later...
Monday, July 10, 2006
Sad Lives
It always amazes me to see how some people live. Whether it is the chain smoker sitting in a small hot room, to the huge mansions with a lonely lady all by herself. Last night we went out on a medical call because an elderly female was going "downhill". We arrived to find a 60 year old female in a hospital style bed. The caretaker identified herself at the patient's daughter-in-law and stated she had not been able to get the patient to eat or take her medications. The caretaker had made some minor attempts to clean the patient but the patient was protesting loudly at any motion, possibly due to the lack pain medication. The patient was covered in feces and when we rolled the patient over, we discovered significant bed sores and a discarded hamburger infested with maggots. Meanwhile, I looked around the tiny apartment and realized that the stuff on the floor was a literal carpet of spilled food, with mold working its way up sides of the dirty couch. A little girl showed up and began screaming for attention. She continued screaming for the entire 15-20 minutes that we were there. The parents were trying to calm her, but it was obvious that she was in control.
I was proud of my crew. I did hear one of them tell another, "I will pay you $50 if you take care of this call for me!" They managed to not "toss their cookies" on the scene, even though the stench was like a physical assault. There was a lot of suttle gagging and choking, but everyone was very professional and treated the lady with all the gentleness they could muster. Everyone went back the station, took showers, and tried to wipe that odor from memory.
The funny thing about odors - for some reason they seem to live forever in the brain. One whiff of something like that years later will bring the memory rushing back.
I was proud of my crew. I did hear one of them tell another, "I will pay you $50 if you take care of this call for me!" They managed to not "toss their cookies" on the scene, even though the stench was like a physical assault. There was a lot of suttle gagging and choking, but everyone was very professional and treated the lady with all the gentleness they could muster. Everyone went back the station, took showers, and tried to wipe that odor from memory.
The funny thing about odors - for some reason they seem to live forever in the brain. One whiff of something like that years later will bring the memory rushing back.
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Working the Quint
I am working today on one of our new Quints. It is really a fire engine that tries to "do it all." This one has a 75' ladder, a 2500 gallon per minute pump, and is very large. In an attempt to make it small enough to go to many medical calls in trailer parks, it has a fairly short wheelbase. This translates into a long rear overhang.
Today I learned a lot about automotive design, particulary that part about weight and balance. Since we had to go for some repairs and few miles away, we hit the freeway with the Quint. As soon as we were up to speed, it became very apparent that the vehicle has a very annoying tendancy to wander and sway at highway speeds. So, if you think about all that weight as well as the physics of a long "arm" holding that weight far behind the rear wheels, it makes sense that when you turn one way, that weight moves in the other direction. Again, with physics 101 we know that "an object in motion tends to remain in motion". Apply that to the design we have and even I with no formal education in physic or design can see WHY WE SWAY. It is so nice to see what great engineering you can find with only $650,00o tax payer's dollars.
At least it isn't like one truck we bought that was so big and heavy that it would not fit in the fire station and it was banned from crossing one of the main bridges in town.
Today I learned a lot about automotive design, particulary that part about weight and balance. Since we had to go for some repairs and few miles away, we hit the freeway with the Quint. As soon as we were up to speed, it became very apparent that the vehicle has a very annoying tendancy to wander and sway at highway speeds. So, if you think about all that weight as well as the physics of a long "arm" holding that weight far behind the rear wheels, it makes sense that when you turn one way, that weight moves in the other direction. Again, with physics 101 we know that "an object in motion tends to remain in motion". Apply that to the design we have and even I with no formal education in physic or design can see WHY WE SWAY. It is so nice to see what great engineering you can find with only $650,00o tax payer's dollars.
At least it isn't like one truck we bought that was so big and heavy that it would not fit in the fire station and it was banned from crossing one of the main bridges in town.
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
Independance Day
How fitting to start a blog on the day we are celebrating our freedom - including the sometimes messy "freedom of speech". Somehow I got rotated out to work this shift at the airport. Real exciting - like watching paint dry. We did get to watch the Space Shuttle launch on TV and then heard about the missile launches out of North Korea. Not sure what they are trying to prove.
Since I will not likely run any calls today, I will bore you with one from several months ago:
We had a call for a man with burns in a residential neighborhood. Since I was working as the Chief's driver that day, another officer had taken my place on the engine. Once they arrived, they found a man with burns on his arms and a large commercial coffee grinder smoldering on a small table in front of the garage. The crew hit the grinder with an extinguisher and then went to move it further from the house. As it was set on the ground - it detonated! It literally exploded causing significant damage in the area. The damage included; window blown out on the occupants BWW as well as a large dent in the door; one firefighter with hearing loss in one ear; one firefighter with a significant hematoma (bruise) to his let that resulted in two weeks off work, and the coffee grinder all but disappeared. I arrived shortly after this happened, and tried to get the guys to the hospital, call the bomb squad, and figure out what happened. Since this is still in litigation, I won't be able to give all the details, but apparently the couple was grinding and mixing chemicals to make exploding targets. Just what you would expect in a quiet upper middle class neighborhood! I will give a more complete update once the trial is over.
Since I will not likely run any calls today, I will bore you with one from several months ago:
We had a call for a man with burns in a residential neighborhood. Since I was working as the Chief's driver that day, another officer had taken my place on the engine. Once they arrived, they found a man with burns on his arms and a large commercial coffee grinder smoldering on a small table in front of the garage. The crew hit the grinder with an extinguisher and then went to move it further from the house. As it was set on the ground - it detonated! It literally exploded causing significant damage in the area. The damage included; window blown out on the occupants BWW as well as a large dent in the door; one firefighter with hearing loss in one ear; one firefighter with a significant hematoma (bruise) to his let that resulted in two weeks off work, and the coffee grinder all but disappeared. I arrived shortly after this happened, and tried to get the guys to the hospital, call the bomb squad, and figure out what happened. Since this is still in litigation, I won't be able to give all the details, but apparently the couple was grinding and mixing chemicals to make exploding targets. Just what you would expect in a quiet upper middle class neighborhood! I will give a more complete update once the trial is over.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
