Had my last real C shift two days ago. Every call was bittersweet, because I kept thinking it was going to be the last. Had some interesting ones-- a DOA that initially came in as a code99, and as we raced to the scene, I begged RevMedic for the tube. He looked at me and squinched his eyebrows, and I was steeling myself for a wrestling match to the airway kit when we got to the bedroom and noticed the dependent lividity in the. . .uh. . .patient's limp arm. RevMed called for PD, and I got our things back in the bus. From one end of town to the other, all day long; a new onset CVA in a snazzily dressed lady who, as I was peeling back layers of a slinky evening gown for electrode sites, called herself a paramedic's nightmare. RevMedic snipped her pantyhose at the ankle, slapped on the leg leads, and we went vrooming to the hospital, where RevMedic got a hug for his troubles, and I got. . .nothing. But we went for coffee afterwards, and waited. . .and waited. . .for a girl to finish dressing her tea with at least 10 sugar packets, each individually torn, poured, and stirred. A few other calls during the day, a mildly jarring MVA with a couple of slightly hysterical teens and their even more hysterical mother; a call waaaaaayyyyy down south for general illness in the middle of the night, and then, 3 hours later, a call for something else right across the street from the first. The Rev quipped to the patient, "you should have just flagged us down when we were here earlier. . ." One of those trips, we're heading across the bridge, we get to the other side, flip on lights and sirens, and there's a car. Right there. Lots of room on the right for him to pull off. He keeps driving. In my lane. I go to pass left, forgetting about the VERY LARGE curb-high concrete divider in the middle of the street that knocked a "holy shit!" out of me and something a bit stronger out of The Rev. Judging by the condition of said divider, I am not the first to hit it, but dang, that hurt a little. After my teeth stopped reverberating in my jaw and my heart stopped trying to leap out of my mouth, Reverend cleared his throat and I knew I was going to hear another of his colossal understatements regarding my driving. I'm not sure if his eyes were tearing because he was trying to keep from laughing at me or because he bit his tongue on the touchdown. Had another patient so hypovolemic from emesis that nobody on scene could get a blood pressure, but by the time we got to the hospital, The Rev had a 16 and an 18 in place, fluids running. Up down up down up down all night long. I said my sniffly goodbyes to Reverend and the office staff the next morning, spent a very long time packing my things up, and when I couldn't put it off any longer, grabbed the pager for the on-call car and set out to say goodbye to the town. I stopped and got a pepperminty mocha, then headed to A's to change out of my stinky, slept-in uniform, have a shower, and then hit the town. The beachfront was remarkably busy for a cold winter day; business was booming at the cafe, and my usual lingering over eggs, fruit, and yogurt with strong, hot coffee and a good book was interrupted frequently by the anxious server hovering around tables behind me. Oh, well. After paying my bill, I walked down to the galleries and spent some time meandering. There's just something about the hush of a gallery, the smell of plaster and paint, the creak of the polished wood floors that appeals to me. And then, if I happen to find a piece that grabs me, I love just standing in front of it, soaking in the colors, the composition, the ambiance. I have no idea how long I was in there. I perused some local artists' paintings and photography for a good representation of the ocean, the bridge, or seagulls, all of which I have a special fondness for, but wasn't able to find one that captured the feeling I had in mind.
Next, I headed to a tiny little used bookstore with a crackling wood stove just inside the front door. I dropped a lot more than I should have for books, but what else is new?
Stopped at Fred Meyer for some food, then back to quarters where I spent some time with two of the A-shift crews. A called around 7, saying he was back in town, so I headed over to his place, started watching a movie, and promptly fell asleep. The pager, on scan, woke me several times through the night, but never for a tone out. Took it back to quarters this morning with a heavy heart. . .
Sunday, December 31, 2006
Thursday, December 28, 2006
going coastal
Lately, our shifts have been positively dead until dinnertime, when, inevitably, everyone decides they have an emergency at exactly the same time. Last shift, though, the poop started flying around lunchtime, and began with a call from a pediatrician's office asking if we might be willing to take a 20 month old who had inhaled an unspecified something or other up to the children's hospital in Biggest City. E, my partner (my new mantra is WWED?, or "what would E do?"), aka His Sage-ness, aka RevMedic (as he also is licensed to perform weddings, and has done so on shift, but that is another story. . .), had no problem with that, and so we prepared for the long drive Northeast-ward. The pediatrician eventually decided to send the kiddo by Life Flight, and as we assisted that team in packaging the little one, E said, under his breath, "I think I'm glad they're taking him." This kid was not a happy camper.
It seems that nobody can drive these days, including me. RevMedic frequently covers his eyes as we scream through intersections. But at least I pull to the side of the road in my POV when I hear sirens. . . I'm pretty sure someone's put stupid in the water lately, because getting to a call is harrowing, to say the least. Honestly! What is so difficult about "pull to the right and stop"?
We got a call to a supermarket for a seizure. . .guy was postictal, slobbering and gooey, attended by his brother, who apparently has no great love for modern medicine. Don't get me wrong, I'm a firm believer in naturopathic healing, too, but there can be a co-existence between that and allopathic medicine. But we got this patient's VS, recognized him as a previous seizure patient, and E started questioning the brother, who was, to say the least, a poor- and disgruntled- historian. Finally, E rolled his eyes, said, "whatever," and we tried to get the patient on the gurney. The brother went ballistic, calling us snake-oil peddlars, spouting some b.s. about how his sister or cousin or something was kidnapped by a psychiatric cult and he wouldn't let us take his brother to the hospital. . .what's a little seizure? Or two? Nothing he couldn't handle. . . Our patient is swaying on the gurney, and the store manager steps in. . . "these are medically trained professionals, and they'll take care of your brother, sir." Brother snarls, "yeah, trained by monkeys!!" and I'm praying The Reverend didn't hear that one. We get the patient in the ambulance and lock the doors, get our IV and another set of vitals before heading to the hospital, where brother is now strangely reticent, due, probably, to a conversation with police officers called to the scene to remove him.
I gave my notice last month, but my last day keeps getting drawn out. I don't want to leave this company- I love my co-workers, and have found some people near and dear to my heart over on the coast, but finding 24 hour childcare is next to impossible! My boss is scrambling to find some alternatives, and has given me much to think about. . .
Back to work tomorrow, then an on-call shift on Saturday.
It seems that nobody can drive these days, including me. RevMedic frequently covers his eyes as we scream through intersections. But at least I pull to the side of the road in my POV when I hear sirens. . . I'm pretty sure someone's put stupid in the water lately, because getting to a call is harrowing, to say the least. Honestly! What is so difficult about "pull to the right and stop"?
We got a call to a supermarket for a seizure. . .guy was postictal, slobbering and gooey, attended by his brother, who apparently has no great love for modern medicine. Don't get me wrong, I'm a firm believer in naturopathic healing, too, but there can be a co-existence between that and allopathic medicine. But we got this patient's VS, recognized him as a previous seizure patient, and E started questioning the brother, who was, to say the least, a poor- and disgruntled- historian. Finally, E rolled his eyes, said, "whatever," and we tried to get the patient on the gurney. The brother went ballistic, calling us snake-oil peddlars, spouting some b.s. about how his sister or cousin or something was kidnapped by a psychiatric cult and he wouldn't let us take his brother to the hospital. . .what's a little seizure? Or two? Nothing he couldn't handle. . . Our patient is swaying on the gurney, and the store manager steps in. . . "these are medically trained professionals, and they'll take care of your brother, sir." Brother snarls, "yeah, trained by monkeys!!" and I'm praying The Reverend didn't hear that one. We get the patient in the ambulance and lock the doors, get our IV and another set of vitals before heading to the hospital, where brother is now strangely reticent, due, probably, to a conversation with police officers called to the scene to remove him.
I gave my notice last month, but my last day keeps getting drawn out. I don't want to leave this company- I love my co-workers, and have found some people near and dear to my heart over on the coast, but finding 24 hour childcare is next to impossible! My boss is scrambling to find some alternatives, and has given me much to think about. . .
Back to work tomorrow, then an on-call shift on Saturday.
oh, elusive somnolence
It's been a blustery week on the coast. E and I were on shift for that horrendous storm that came through the pacific northwest last thursday. Interestingly enough, none of our 11 patients had storm- related issues, but the weather made for interesting commutes and transports. It's hard keeping your santa hat on in 80 mph wind!
That night, we did have three transfers to our closest big city. The first, in the middle of the day, wasn't so bad, but then the winds hit. Our second out of town transport was code 1 for appendicitis; E and I were in our usual state of wacky hijinks, and the patient looked at us and said, "you guys are married, aren't you?" Which made both E and I pause and made the nurse start convulsing with laughter before she assured the patient that no, we were just partners. We got on our way just a bit after dark, with highway 20 the only road out, and even it was touch and go. There were trees everywhere, uprooted, broken, and the scent of pine got into everything. 10 miles out of town, a tree had fallen across the whole road. Suddenly, several men with chain saws appeared out of nowhere, and I hopped in the back of the ambulance with the patient while E jumped out and dragged tree limbs off the road so we could pass. We were about 30 miles out, and I'm already white knuckle driving through torrential rain and wind at the wild speed of 40 (unheard of for me and my lead foot) when E sticks his head through the partition and says in his most pleasant, conversational tone, "our patient's blood pressure just bottomed out at 60, and her heart rate shot up to 150." And he smiled and batted his eyes at me. And I, quick thinking maven that I am, realized what a baaaaaaaaad thing that was. I was quite comfortable driving at 40, thank you very much, but flipped on the lights and siren, and squeaked, "well, I guess we're going code 3 then, aren't we?" By the time we got to the hospital, my arms were frozen in the 10 and 2 position, my back scoliosed from peering through windshield, and my accelerator foot had a cramp in it from keeping the damn pedal to the floor all the way to Big City. The drive back was a little less stressful, although I tried to slalom through some orange road cones and a very large tree top that slapped the ambulance from bumper to box. I may have shrieked, although I'm not sure. E congratulated me on my spectacular maneuvering, and thanked me for the choice opportunity of near impalement by, as he put it, a very large splinter. I had to ask him later if I had imagined the deer standing by the side of the road, just watching us go by. We made it back and got moved up north to a pitch black town that was eerie in its silence. Downed wires swung across intersections, and the only sign of life was two police officers coffeeklatsching in a parking lot. I was definitely hallucinating by the time we took our third transport to Big City, and thank god E drove us home after a side trip for a triple Americano.
Yesterday's shift was very, very quiet until about 2330, when all hell broke loose. The cops tazered some guy after he wrecked his car and ran, and when we got there the blood from his head ran in rivulets toward the gutters. Initially the guy was completely unresponsive, but when I started talking to him, he opened his eyes and smiled beatifically (or drunkenly, I'm not sure which), and E got a 14 g IV needle (go big or go home!) in the tenth of a mile it took to go to the hospital. We were preparing to take the guy out to Big City when Way Down South erupted in a flurry of activity, and we headed down that way for a medical call. We'd no sooner gotten back to town when we were toned out for a transport to Biggest City from the hospital up north. We headed out from that at 0305 this a.m., and I still have the marks on my forearm where I pinched myself to stay awake on the long drive. Again, E drove back, and we were so exhausted by 0630 that our usual chatter was tempered down to the occasional burst of song. I was even too tired to dance to keep warm while we were fueling, and just stood there, sleeping with my eyes open while E picked absentmindedly at the coating of ice on our side mirrors.
Three kids wanting my attention when I got home, and the roommate suggested a trip to the movie theatre-- a great way to catch some z's while the kids are otherwise occupied. But the movie was "Charlotte's Web," which was one of my very, very favorite books growing up, and I forgot how tired I was. I cried, how I cried when Charlotte died. I am once again reminded of how very much animals can teach us about unconditional love and friendship.
So, tonight is a celebration, girls' night out for C and M and I. If I can stay awake that long. . .no, officer, I haven't had anything to drink. . .I'm just an angel sleepwalking in a sparkly red santa hat.
That night, we did have three transfers to our closest big city. The first, in the middle of the day, wasn't so bad, but then the winds hit. Our second out of town transport was code 1 for appendicitis; E and I were in our usual state of wacky hijinks, and the patient looked at us and said, "you guys are married, aren't you?" Which made both E and I pause and made the nurse start convulsing with laughter before she assured the patient that no, we were just partners. We got on our way just a bit after dark, with highway 20 the only road out, and even it was touch and go. There were trees everywhere, uprooted, broken, and the scent of pine got into everything. 10 miles out of town, a tree had fallen across the whole road. Suddenly, several men with chain saws appeared out of nowhere, and I hopped in the back of the ambulance with the patient while E jumped out and dragged tree limbs off the road so we could pass. We were about 30 miles out, and I'm already white knuckle driving through torrential rain and wind at the wild speed of 40 (unheard of for me and my lead foot) when E sticks his head through the partition and says in his most pleasant, conversational tone, "our patient's blood pressure just bottomed out at 60, and her heart rate shot up to 150." And he smiled and batted his eyes at me. And I, quick thinking maven that I am, realized what a baaaaaaaaad thing that was. I was quite comfortable driving at 40, thank you very much, but flipped on the lights and siren, and squeaked, "well, I guess we're going code 3 then, aren't we?" By the time we got to the hospital, my arms were frozen in the 10 and 2 position, my back scoliosed from peering through windshield, and my accelerator foot had a cramp in it from keeping the damn pedal to the floor all the way to Big City. The drive back was a little less stressful, although I tried to slalom through some orange road cones and a very large tree top that slapped the ambulance from bumper to box. I may have shrieked, although I'm not sure. E congratulated me on my spectacular maneuvering, and thanked me for the choice opportunity of near impalement by, as he put it, a very large splinter. I had to ask him later if I had imagined the deer standing by the side of the road, just watching us go by. We made it back and got moved up north to a pitch black town that was eerie in its silence. Downed wires swung across intersections, and the only sign of life was two police officers coffeeklatsching in a parking lot. I was definitely hallucinating by the time we took our third transport to Big City, and thank god E drove us home after a side trip for a triple Americano.
Yesterday's shift was very, very quiet until about 2330, when all hell broke loose. The cops tazered some guy after he wrecked his car and ran, and when we got there the blood from his head ran in rivulets toward the gutters. Initially the guy was completely unresponsive, but when I started talking to him, he opened his eyes and smiled beatifically (or drunkenly, I'm not sure which), and E got a 14 g IV needle (go big or go home!) in the tenth of a mile it took to go to the hospital. We were preparing to take the guy out to Big City when Way Down South erupted in a flurry of activity, and we headed down that way for a medical call. We'd no sooner gotten back to town when we were toned out for a transport to Biggest City from the hospital up north. We headed out from that at 0305 this a.m., and I still have the marks on my forearm where I pinched myself to stay awake on the long drive. Again, E drove back, and we were so exhausted by 0630 that our usual chatter was tempered down to the occasional burst of song. I was even too tired to dance to keep warm while we were fueling, and just stood there, sleeping with my eyes open while E picked absentmindedly at the coating of ice on our side mirrors.
Three kids wanting my attention when I got home, and the roommate suggested a trip to the movie theatre-- a great way to catch some z's while the kids are otherwise occupied. But the movie was "Charlotte's Web," which was one of my very, very favorite books growing up, and I forgot how tired I was. I cried, how I cried when Charlotte died. I am once again reminded of how very much animals can teach us about unconditional love and friendship.
So, tonight is a celebration, girls' night out for C and M and I. If I can stay awake that long. . .no, officer, I haven't had anything to drink. . .I'm just an angel sleepwalking in a sparkly red santa hat.
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