Stan-By's Blog

Where did all they calls go my lovely?

2010-07-30T07:17:00.000-07:00

Two days on, and two days shifts on the car. On the first day I managed a monumental four jobs, all in latter half of the day, and on the subsequent day I managed an awe-inspiring two jobs. One early in the morning, and one which made me late finishing! The rest of the day, apart from a mercy mission to fetch the milk, was spent on station, reading and generally clearing up my admin.

I also had time to plan out some of my stories. In the interest of anonymity and to avoid any press coverage of any incident, I may at times delay putting fingers to keybooard with regard to a particular story for a few days, weeks or even months.

Anyhoo, It seems that we have an out of sync year this year. The quiet patch may have hit early.

So, to an Ambulance related story reported to me by a colleague. It happened. A lady, I shall call her Marcy, went up to our headquarters recently to sit an exam. On her arrival, she tried to gain access to the building, but found that her tag would not open the door. Eventually, a man drove up to the building, parked his car, and approached her, asking, "Will it not let you in?"

"No" she replied.

"I will let you in then. You will need to get your tag seen to, as you should be able to get in."

"Ok," she said, " I'll try, but it's typical of the Anywhere Ambulance Service".

"Sounds like you aren't in favour of the Service," said the man.

"Oh, I am," she replied, "but great job, crap employer!"

The man looked aghast. Pondered a moment, and replied, " As the Chief Executive I can't say I subscribe to that train of thought!" and departed up the stairs.

Poor Marcy. It has been suggested that we nominate her head of Tact and Diplomacy. And send her pictures of other high ranking members of staff, so that she can avoid similar situations!

New gear from here!

2010-07-27T04:31:00.000-07:00

Hi again all. Well, that's the last of the old stuff posted. So, all new from here-on in.

Life has moved on at a startling pace since I wrote most of those entries. Little changes in our field, though the bureaucracy has been heaped on, in most parts for the better. Life comes and goes. Babies are born and people die. Then there are the people in the middle, and the main content of my blogging.

Many of the regulars remain the same. The drunks. The genuinely poorly patients. The persistent time wasters. Sadly, we also have some for whom there is no answer, the services just do not exist to treat them.

Faces at Anytown station have changed... alot, though many of the favourites remain.

So, I shall leave it at this point, and go off to work on some new posts... watch this space.

Unable to deliver... return to sender!

2010-07-27T03:53:00.000-07:00

Forgive me for it has been 5 days since my last confession! Not the best of starts, but a guy has other commitments too!

Life went on... for the most part. Worked with the fun guys for two shifts, and onto night shifts tonight.

My job never ceases to amaze me. I spent a few hours last night trying to solve a recurring problem. I had many successful conversations and felt justified in my decisions. Until. Just until.

Why are there people in authority who just cannot see the whole picture, and insist on breaking a problem down into it's component parts, then just deal with the least troubling to them personally, or worse still wash their hands of it completely? Cryptic I know, but confidentiality is a big part of the job, and a part of life. There I am complaining that people fail to see the whole issue, then show you one piece of the jigsaw!

Here's one for you... last night, whilst trying to solve the aforementioned problem, I was told that I care too much. It was said as a compliment, and I took it as such. It just seems that, given the job I do, I am able to care too much, but unable to deliver the care that I want and need to deliver, as the system is not geared to meet the demand.

As a result, I am unsure of the outcome of the situation. I really sincerely hope that the results were good, and that the people who created the problem will be re-educated in the ways of their mistakes. Sadly, I doubt it.

Chances are, if you know me, you know what I do. I can't imagine anyone else being here yet!

Collapse in the Street

2010-07-27T03:51:00.002-07:00

"Three nines call for you.... collapsed person.....!" Four minutes later we are on the road specified. It is broad daylight. A little cool. But bright enough. We rode from one end of the road to the other. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Diddlysquat. We turn around and ride the other way.

We are waved down by a lady emerging from a house. A good samaritan, who must have taken the poor soul indoors.

The Duke, in the meantime has spotted a purple lump by the side of the road. He makes his way over to it, then squats down and shakes his head.

The good samaritan looks embarrassed, and says, "I rang for the Police, but then I thought that they would need an ambulance."
"Ok" says I, "Where are they?".

"Well," she says, " I thought, when I looked out of the bedroom window, that there was someone lying in the road.... but now I'm closer I don't think it is".

The Duke has returned from the lump, and whispers, "It's a horse coat! I have pronounced it dead at the roadside!"

We make our excuses and leave, wondering why someone would phone 999, then not bother to go and check, or indeed, go and check before phoning 999.
Not to be outdone, The Duke's Radio message to Control went something like this. "We have spoken to the collapsed coat, but it currently doesn't wish to travel to hospital, form signed, green on scene".....
It's a crazy world......

House Names!

2010-07-27T03:51:00.001-07:00

I must apologise for not updating the blog recently. I have been trying for the past few weeks, but haven't been able to get into the site... at all! Thanks to Hayley for prompting me via her email, and for the amusing tale! (Your secret is safe with me!)

Work has gone on as usual, and conflict resolution courses are beginning to take up more of my time off too.

First off, on a more serious note. Why, oh why, do people insist on having names displayed instead of numbers!? And why are those names often displayed on the front of the house, which is too far from the road to be read at night?

I have three numbers displayed outside the house for various reasons.... it was two, but then I cut the bush down and found another one! I acknowledge that some people actually don't have a house number, and that the majority of those live in rural lanes.

Satnav does not recognise house names. Some farms are named on the map. If you are not a farm, and have a number which is not displayed as you wish to have your house name displayed instead.... DON'T! It could cost you your life!

Blue Lights are really something!

2010-07-27T03:49:00.000-07:00

Blue lights are really something.

Blue lights should only be used on initial Red Calls, or emergencies, and on calls deemed to be time critical for transport to hospital, in other words, where delays could cost the life or wellbeing of the patient. But......

They also have multiple other functions it appears.

The first is to seemingly cloak the vehicle, so that the thundering flying object known as the ambulance cannot be seen by the average motorist. Merrily we wail and flash our lights whilst Joe in his car sits there oblivious, stereo on full, wending his way to wherever. Then as the car in front pulls over, evidently out of the range of the cloaking device, Joe pulls out and nearly causes himself to be our next customer. Please, whoever sits in government these days, make car companies reduce the volume that stereos go up to! Either that or give us a radio zapping device!

Second function. We know we are medical. Blue lights are for emergency service users. Green lights are for doctors. We are not doctors. Why is it then that some people look the driver of a blue light vehicle straight in the eye then pull out into traffic in front of you? Is it that, given the choice of which vehicle to pull out in front of, they prefer the one which can save them should their attempted suicide fail?

Third function. To amuse the crew. On a dark night, when the rain is falling, or better still, snow, the blue lights have an almost hypnotic effect when looking out of the cab side windows, often resulting in a trance like, completely chilled out crew member attending the next job! Luckily, it is not apparent when looking through the windscreen, or we might not make it to the job!

I am sure that this list is not exhaustive!

Where's my Dog?

2010-07-27T03:32:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, in the great scheme of things, life is routine. No blues and twos. No high speed runs.
So, sometimes, life is normal.
This week has seen the Wimbledon Tennis Finals. As usual, the second that we sat down to watch the Men's singles final, the phone rang.
Now, we are working on the conspiracy theory that there are a series of alarms connected to the Control Room which, when activated, cause an old fashioned large red rotating beacon to start flashing, and a ear piercing siren to commence sounding.
The first of these is located on the kettle switch, and is connected to a further switch which is activated when the fridge door closes. This prevents the phone ringing before the tea is actually in the cup.
The second, third and fourth are wired to the three sofas. These are wired in such a way as to only alarm if weight is distributed across at least two cushions.
Anywayhoo. We were sent to do a transfer of a lady into our local Community Hospital. She was our favourite type of senior patient. These patients ask the same four questions over and over again, and have genuinely forgotten the answer when they ask again..... some forty seconds later. Now, this can be tiresome, but luckily this was a short journey. The situation can be prolonged by the driver, depending on the level of abuse traded between crew members on that shift. Breeze2 was lucky. It was early in the evening, and our normal jape and insult routine hadn't really started to gather speed.
We arrived in due course at the Hospital where the lady was to be kept for a period of respite. Despite her earlier protestations based on the length of stay not exceeding about an hour, Breeze2 had converted her into a lovely lady, enjoying her evening excursion with a lovely young suitor. Awwwww! (Fetch me a bucket! Quick!)(He often has this effect on senior ladies!) She was quickly wheeled on the trolley stretcher to the ward, mainly in order to maintain this particular mood, and an initial handover swiftly given to the Nurse. Our patient in the meantime was clearly enjoying the new company of other patients and staff members, and was soon back in her stride. The questions began again.
"Where's my dog?",
"What hospital is this?",
"Why do I have to lie on the bed?",
"Why am I here?",
"Where's my dog?"..........
We had to wait to hand over to the Ward Sister, so were given a cup of tea and a rare reward, an After Eight mint, then directed to a seat each in front of the 50 inch widescreen Plasma TV where Federer and Nadal where whacking tennis balls at each other at a rate of knots.
Five minutes and a quick handover later, we collected the stretcher, and noticing the quiet on the section of the ward where our patient was, departed , throwing a final loud "Where did you say the dog was?" over our shoulders. Immediately the questions started again, and we made our way back to the Amblesteed as two happy men.
We called green (i.e ready for another job).
"Busy Junction for Standby", Control Voice (CV) said.
"Roger, Busy Junction for Standby received. Is there a telly there?"
"Errr..... negative. Why?" CV.
"Errrr.... finals updates?" Us.
"Will keep you informed. Control out."
So, Busy Junction it was.

A new drunk

2010-07-27T03:29:00.000-07:00

We often get to meet new drunks.
Drunks come in many forms, from the "inanimate drunk" to the "extremely animated", "in the street" to "made it home", conscious to unconscious and in very many states including the "undressed"! Each form of drunk can fit a wide variety of the above categories, and indeed many more!
Calls to drunks come from a variety of sources, from Good Samaritans to other drunks. Drunks are often mistaken for dead people, diabetics, fitters.... the list goes on. Unfortunately, the same list can be applied the other way.
It never ceases to amaze me how many people will phone 999 then leave the person unattended and carry on their way home before we get there. By contrast, sometimes we get a real crowd.
My latest drunk was minding his own business having a kip on the main road through a suburb of our town. He had sadly forgotten his fags, chips and can of redbull which were lying next to him on the pavement. The chips were still warm, and the red bull still cold. The local ant community had made him their latest conquest, and were strangely ignoring the chips.
On our arrival, Betty and I alighted from the trusty steed, and made our way over to the crowd of well wishers. They all had some form of input. Cars that had been sitting watching him, then driven away. Other cars from which he had alighted. Imaginary cars which had hit him then driven off. We thanked them all, and ushered them away to a safe distance. This includes the lady on the invalid bike who spent a whole 30 minutes jetting ( is that right?) up and down the road, constantly changing her vantage point. She gave the normally serene proceedings an almost comical turn.
Betty, meanwhile, had started her patient assessment. Airway, Breathing, Circulation. All present. Following this, the AVPU scale to determine levels of consciousness. AVPU stands for the tests we apply to the patient.
A is Alert. V is Responds to Verbal Prompts. P is Responds to Painful Stimuli, and U is Unconscious and responding to nothing.
I will call our patient Charley. His name isn't Charley, but you get the point.
Charley was "unconscious". He didn't respond to anything. He was a big lad though. We tried everything. We called the Police to give us a hand and to see if he was known to them, and in the meantime, carried on trying to wake him. Now, generally, once the painful stimuli have been tried we would monitor the patient, and keep trying the AVPU testing, unless we were immediately able to lift him onto our trolley and place him on the back of the ambletaxi. However, Charley, as I stated was a big lad. Betty, by contrast, is a small lady. So, we got him laid out safely with his airway protected whilst we waited for the boys in blue to arrive.
During this time Charley was leaning his head on his hand. I tried shaking the hand from side to side. This promoted a growling sound from Charley. "Aha" thought I. I tried again. Same growl. Enthusuastically, I tried again, putting a more "wavelike" motion into my efforts. Charley balled his fists. Charley is in fact asleep. And by this point starting to feel extremely seasick.
Armed with this knowledge we went about sitting Charley up. Charley is therefore seated quite comfortably, with the ants still crawling around the hair on his torso (I'm still itching just thinking about it!) when the Police arrive. It transpires that Charley is known to them, and is fast becoming the "New" drunk for both our service and the Police.
Now, because Charley is sooooooo drunk, our options have narrowed to, (a) Hand him to the Police, who will take him to the station and look after him in their cells, or (b) take him to casualty. We can't take him home and leave him to his own devices can we?

So he is lifted onto our trolley, now conscious, but incapable of pretty much anything. He has joined the one repeated question gang. "Why do you c****s keep doing this to me?". I gave him my stock answer. "Because I can't leave you in that state!" Then ignored the rest of the questions. *Unlike the old lady questions, drunk questions quickly lose their coherence, and my patience.
He slept all the way to hospital, then for about six hours once there, before awakening, no doubt fully refreshed and discharging himself for the 25 quid taxi fare home, still muttering and calling us names.
So, having completed my blog for today, I shall nip off and scratch my skin into oblivion. Damned Ants!

Take Away anyone?

2010-07-27T03:27:00.000-07:00

We were just leaving Anytown Hospital, and called green at hospital. This means that we press the button on the radio, get a series of musical tones (which I have recently realised that I actually inwardly, or sometimes, worryingly, outwardly sing to!), read the "acknowledged" sign on the radio display, then wait. And sometimes wait somemore, and more.... and more....
It is sometimes evident by the length of wait how busy the ambulance services are.
On this occasion we were dispatched to a curry house in our local town. At the time it was quite new, and we were requested to go around into the rear car park. Well, you don't want a large yellow ambocharger parked in front of your swish new restaurant do you?
It transpires that we are there to see a member of staff. He is sat by the sink at the rear entrance, on a dustbin, trying to get as much of his body into the large stainless steel sink, or so it appears. The contents of his stomach are very much in evidence within the sink.
So, we set to work. Questions are asked and observations are carried out.
"Have you only just eaten?"
"Yes", comes a grunted reply.
We decide to leave his mouth actions undisrupted as he adds copious amounts to the sink.
So we ask the worried looking boss. "What did he eat?"
"Sandwiches".
Now, I may not be CSI's finest, nor into Forensics in a big way, but whenever I have tried to make a curried chicken and rice sandwich, I find that the rice tends to fall out all over the place.
"So, he has only had his packed lunch?"
"Yes", from a now very embarrassed boss, who has spotted me looking into the sink trying to spot a piece of bread anywhere amongst the debris.
Having now evacuated all of the offending meal, the patient is now feeling brighter, and decides that rather than spending the remainder of his saturday night in Casualty, he will just shoot off home early. We satisfy ourselves that he isn't going to flake out from something else and let him.
As we leave the restaurant, the owner pipes up, "Please drop in for a meal sometime".
Somehow, I think not.

Dog and Bone

2010-07-27T03:22:00.000-07:00

I never thought I would see the day....
Attending a call to a village the other day with the Wizard. Just as we arrive, the Display receives a message to stand off the scene until the Police arrive as the patient is becoming violent. Now, the original call received stated that the patient had requested the Ambo, so, why then become violent? So, we remain with the vehicle just out of sight of the address.
After a few minutes a bedraggled female approaches the Amblebunce.
"Are you here for 'Gerty'?"(name changed) she asks.
"We don't know who we are here for", we reply.... after all, it could be the very lady we are there for. It wouldn't be the first time!
It transpires that 'Gerty' is inside the house, and is very agitated. The lady telling us this is very drunk indeed. Either that, or very potty indeed. So, we employed the most basic techniques to get her talking, and to glean whatever possible info we can about the lady in question. Unfortunately, part of this process required us to ask about the dogs that we could hear barking.
"They aren't nasty" she informed us,"but if you come near me, they will attack you".
Hmmmm... comforting.
"They love their mum" she continued. "The oldest one saved my life!"
Why did I have to ask. "How?"
"Well, I collapsed", she said, "and my alsatian dialled 999, and woofed down the phone." As if to demonstrate, she mimicked, "Woof... Wooof.... Wooof".
I looked at Wizard. He looked at me.
We looked to the heavens discretely.
I think he pinched himself to ensure that neither of us were dreaming.
At that point, we were glad to hear the arrival of the Police unit.
The rest of the call was pretty standard, once we knew the level of the field upon which we were playing, and we all withdrew, wiser for another day.
And for the Dogs out there.... are you that clever, or is it only dogs here in Anytown that can do that?

Woof. Woof

Hi!

2010-07-27T02:51:00.000-07:00

You may know me by another name. You may have just stumbled across me. I am Stan. I am a Paramedic. I have been called many things, many names, both nice and not-so-nice. In the greater part I always try to be nice, and I have a very long fuse to burn.

Life throws many things at us, and at our patients, and it comes down to us to make decisions based upon what we are are presented with, and in line with the patient's wishes, and to take care of our charges.

Some stories here will shock, most will make you laugh, and some will make you wipe a tear.

And so it begins. Please, those of you that recognise some of my early posts, do not reveal my identity.