I sat in the consultation room with my chin leant on a fist, whilst the forefinger tapped my cheek slowly. My face was twisted in deliberation, pondering over my patient’s presentation and the how best to broach the subject.
“Hmmm . . . ” my eybrows furrowed, “does it hurt?”
“It smarts a bit. Uncomfortable I’d say.”
My patient stood directly in front of me, trousers and boxers round his ankles, family jewels thrust forward in presentation. They had an inguinal hernia. A very obvious inguinal hernia at that. So obvious, their intestines had bulged and spilled out from the inguinal origin in their lower abodomen, and ballooned the left scrotum to at least 5x the normal size. It pushed the gentleman’s “trouser snake” way off to their right, and his ball-sack hung close to his knee.
I gripped the seat and the door handle for my life, and sat rigid in the passenger seat of the ambulance. My crewmate, nonchalant, yet transfixed in their psycotic driving, was hammering it on blue lights – tearing through the city streets, bareley putting in any thought of using the brake pedal. Cars swerved off the road, quickly mounted curbs, almost ploughed into one another – anything to get out of the way of our speeding ambulance screaming it on blues and twos.
My crewmate was taking no prisoners. It was their way, or . . . well, it was their way. That is all.
I have never been so terrified about someone driving on blue lights before. But the problem was – we weren’t going to a job. No one was ill – that we knew of anyway. We were simply heading back to station at end of shift. My crewmate, being the “old-school” type, simply wanted to get off on time. And by quickly, it meant blue lights on, get the fuck out of my way.
So, I’ve just caught up with loads of comments people had placed. So, they’re all responded to.
I’m also currently getting my guru buddy from Webholism.com to sort my contact form thing out, as well as everything else. Basically, he’s sorted the technical side of this blog from day 1.
I’ve been away from the blog for a loooong time and am slowly getting back into the wants and desires to write! I’ve been working on ambulances solidly for last 2 months and confidence has been flowing back.
So, within a week I hope to have couple of blog posts up as a gentle move back into the game.
The blog is going to take on three different angles over time. First will be ongoing Paramedic fun and giggles as they happen. Second will be shits and giggles of my ongoing escapades as an ECP/Paramedic Practitioner working in Urgent and Primary care – a whoooole different ball game. But at least the lesser breed of mortals, Nurses, will be able to relate more. And lastly, I want to try and introduce a section by section written fictional story. Not too sure how this will work, but ideally would involve posting a chapter at a time – perhaps. We’ll see
For now, stand by, I’ve got a lot of updating to do and can’t wait to get back into it.
I collapse to the ground and lean back against the trig-point atop the small hill of Brunt Knott. My body is awash with sweat from the short walk up. Working in London has certainly taken its toll on my fitness.
Sitting back, I take in the majestic views of the Kentmere
valley and the surrounding Lake District.
The sun beats brightly above me.
A gentle breeze blows across my face, and Skylarks singing above mark
the only break in the mountain silence.
I breath in deeply. The
air is fresh and clean.
Sitting in this joyous solitude I can feel tears rolling freely down my cheeks. Another memory has broken the peace of my mind. I close my eyes, and the black canvas of my eyelids acts as the perfect projector screen to enhance the images I recall . . .
I did an observer shift in Control a while back. I wanted to watch and listen to how calls come in, got triaged, allocated and then managed.
So, sitting with Laffieres*, a Clinical Team Leader, I was able to listen in to a patient call back. They had rung 999 feeling faint and had won themself an Amber response that could see her waiting a long while for an ambulance. London were holding a ridiculous amount of calls and, as usual, only had a finite amount of ambulances to send. So, it was Laffieres’ job to ring the patient back and re-check their clinical status to see if anything had changed and to see if there were any ‘alternatives’ that could be used to help the patient. This was all done using the Manchester Triage System, a quick, more concise generalised system to help clinicians triage a patient’s needs over the phone.
After a short conversation Laffieres concluded the patient did not need an ambulance at all. And, upon receiving the news that they were no longer going to be getting one, the patient’s demeanour changed. One second their voice had been woeful and demure, the next it was harsh, cruel and direct.
“If you don’t send me an ambulance I’ll ring 999 again! And I’ll keep ringing, over and over!”
My jaw had genuinely dropped. I could not believe what I’d just heard. Laffieres laughed.
“We get it all the time mate. Every day, over and over. She’ll call back in a minute, I guarantee”