Try not to discuss “your day” at the family dinner table.

It’s a given fact that what I do for a living isn’t exactly kosher with the rest of my family. They don’t understand the oddball humor that goes along with the job, or the fact that I run towards things that most people go their entire lives without ever witnessing.  I wouldn’t change what I do for a living- not in a million years. Like any job I have good days and bad days- some days its hard to move forward when a particular call is weighing heavily on your mind. That’s when I have to tell myself that I did all I could- and that regardless of my actions whats meant to be will always happen. There have been many times when I feel like I’ve stared death in the face and actually beat it back. I take a lot of pride knowing that I save lives for a living- there arent many other careers out there that make that kind of impact in a person’s life. The entire public service field constantly amazes me. From the top- the dispatchers who are our first line of attack, gathering the information and providing the first contact with our patients. Law enforcement who are always there for support and protecting us on dangerous scenes. To the Firemen who help us out on scenes and save our butts on potentially dangerous wrecks.

EMT = Educated Monkey Trainer

Finally a song with references to EMS! I love this song- it’s artist in the ambulance by thrice! : )

Late night brakes lock hear the tires squeel. Red light can’t stop so I spin the wheel. My world goes black before I, feel an angel lift me up. And, I open blood shot eyes into fluorescent white. Flip the siren, hit the lights, close the doors and I am gone.

Now I lay here, owing my life to a stranger and I realize that empty words are not enough. I’m left here with the question of, “Just what have I to show except, the promises I’ve never kept?” I lie here shaking on this bed, under the weight of my regrets. I hope, that I will never let you down. I know, that this can be more than just flashing lights and sound.

Look around and you’ll see that at times it feels like no one really cares. It gets me down but I’m still gonna try to do what’s right. I know that there’s a difference between slight of hand and giving everything you have. There’s a line drawn in the sand, I’m working up the will to cross it. And, I hope, that I will never let you down. I know, that this can be more than just flashing lights and sound.

Rhetoric can raise the dead. I’m sick of always talking, when there’s no change. Rhetoric can raise the dead I’m sick of empty words. Let’s lead, and not follow!

Late night brakes lock hear the tires squeel. Red light can’t stop so I spin the wheel. My world goes black before I feel and angel steal me from the greedy jaws of death and chance and pull me in with steady hands. Giving me a second chance, the artist in the ambulence! I hope, that I will never let you down. I know, that this can be more than just flashing lights and sound. Can we pick you off the ground? More than flashing lights and sound!

It’s not a compliment when Policemen say you’re crude, crass & cynical.

It never fails to amaze me how a med call can go out for the county jail- and no one goes! I’m easily the smallest first responder- and female- in my county. Common sense dictates I shouldn’t go alone to the jail- thats not exactly prime territory for a young female. But off I go… yet again. This time the page out is for an inmate who has “extreme road rash.” I arrive at the jail to find that my patient is a tiny skeleton of a man- wearing nothing but a very inadequate pair of boxers. Um…. yuck. Thank you to the jailers for doing all they can to protect me – but my poor eyes will never be the same. Upon examining my patient I discovered that he indeed had road rash on his thigh and a small laceration to his lower right leg. I took vitals, cleaned the wounds and stood by to await the medics decision. Meanwhile I wandered over to talk to the officer (from another county) that brought him in. Teasing, he covered his badge name and said no way- don’t look at that, you’ll report me. HAH! For a run over inmate? Not likely, but whatever you think. After joking with the jailers and the out of county officer, the medics turned over care and I went clear from the call.

Nothing particularly special- but the call got me thinking. Since when is it okay for us to barely treat a patient before turning them over to be put back on the streets again? Before I even touched the guy I knew that he was a drug addict, probably always in trouble with the law- and yet I treated him exactly how I treat everyone else; to the best of my ability! I’m not trying to sound like I don’t do anything wrong, because thats the furthest from the truth. I am far from perfect- most of the time far from decent. I don’t always treat people the best, I have a quick temper that has landed me in more fights than a pro wrestler- but when it comes to EMS, i f-ing rock it as hard as I can. Always running the calls that no one else wants, pushing myself harder and closer to the edge each time. I am determined to be the best- not 2nd or barely making the cut- but literally top in the county.

You may not install a “car catcher” on the front of the ambulance.

So I don’t want to rant… but I’m going to get on a small soap box for a second! Folks: there is a law stating that you must yield for emergency vehicles. This does not mean dive off the road and nearly kill yourself in the process- but it does mean bear right if possible, and help the big ambulance coming up behind you to get through! If you were the person who was in bad enough shape to call the ambulance- you would want us to get to you ASAP! ASAP does not include driving the speed limit (or less) through busy traffic…. that would mean that we would never get to true emergencies in time! My lights and siren are not for show- and no they are not for fun. Same goes if I am trying to pull out into traffic. Don’t keep driving and staring at my big huge truck like its a UFO. I will call you an SOB and try to push you off the road at this point- lives are in trouble when my lights and siren are running. That being said- yes I did push someone off the road the other day, she refused to move and I had someone having an MI who desperately needed me. So to the person I pushed off the road- no I’m not sorry- you are a disrespectful human being (who we have had problems with before) and you deserved that ditch dive!

Your social skills will be lacking, if all your anecdotes deal with blood.

My instructor always told us that when you smell a GI bleed (lower),you will never forget that particular smell. I can honestly say- Glenn you were right!

For those of you who don’t know- a quick lesson on what exactly a GI bleed is… (Excerpt from Wikipedia)

Gastrointestinal bleeding or gastrointestinal hemorrhage describes every form of hemorrhage (loss of blood) in the gastrointestinal tract, from the pharynx to the rectum. It has diverse causes, and a medical history, as well as physical examination, generally distinguishes between the main forms. The degree of bleeding can range from nearly undetectable to acute, massive, life-threatening bleeding.

Initial emphasis is on resuscitation by infusion of intravenous fluids and blood transfusion, treatment with proton pump inhibitors and occasionally with vasopressin analogues and tranexamic acid. Upper endoscopy or colonoscopy are generally considered appropriate to identify the source of bleeding and carry out therapeutic interventions.

Lower gastrointestinal bleeding may be indicated by red blood per rectum, especially in the absence of hematemesis. Isolated melena may originate from anywhere between the stomach and the proximal colon.

Back to my post…. We have already been paged out for this particular GI bleed, and apparently nothing was done about it. The poor man was covered in blood and pieces of stool that coated him from legs to back. After loading him onto a tarp, we then had to manipulate his 300 lb. body off the bed ,down the hall, and finally onto the stretcher. One awesome moment though, was his neighbor praying over him. From there he’s the medic’s responsibility- bless his soul, a GI bleed in a small space.

Most people get candy for Easter- I get to tackle my first GI bleed.

Automatically multiply by 3 the number of drinks they claim to have had.

What do you do when your drunk patient is actually the best person to be around on scene? The page went out simply enough…

First Responders stand by for a page to (insert highway name here).

You are responding to a 1050 i, (wreck with injuries) on ***. Deputies are standing by. For your 1043 (information) the patient is believed to have been 1055. (Driving drunk)

Oh yay… nothing like a good old drunk to tear up the road and get your adreneline pumping. I radioed out my number and put myself in route. (Hubby is driving me P.O.V.) Arrive on scene to find that a private ambulance service is packaging the patient as I walk over.

Initial impression tells me that the patient is in his late 20’s, Hispanic male, being back boarded by 2 medics from the private service- neither of which are even wearing gloves… The patient in question doesn’t speak a word of English and the 2 medics attending him don’t speak Spanish. Now off to a small tangent for a minute- the patient is bleeding yet neither medic is wearing gloves… don’t they know the old adage that if it’s wet it’s infectious?

After handing each of them a pair of gloves, I began to take stock of what exactly I had on my hands (So far- no other responders). I speak a decent amount of Spanish so I began questioning my patient. Does he hurt? Did he have anything to drink today (Yes, 3 beers.) After making sure that I had all the vitals I needed, I gave my report to the hospital ambulance that just pulled up. While we were waiting for the stretcher, both the private ambulance service’s medics continued to make inappropriate comments. “Too bad he didn’t walk into the road- would have made this call more interesting” and “Were those beers at least cold? Stupid bastard”

Now to get on my soap box for a minute- It is never okay in any circumstance to bad mouth a patient within their hearing- regardless of what you believe they may or may not understand. I have had my fair share of patients who seem to be a waste of space but under oath we are all to give each patient the best care we can possibly provide. All it takes is your patient comprehending what you have said about them and the law suits will pour in.
I turned over care to the hospital ambulance staff, and supervised placement of an I.V., KVO with normal saline, and a 12 lead attachment to monitor heart and blood pressure.
It was the best feeling in the world to be the much needed person on scene. Translating was simple enough, but I still get excited over every way I find a way to help a patient- drunk or not.

I am reminded of the following quote:

Only one rule in medical ethics need concern you – that action on your part which best conserves the interests of your patient. ~Martin H. Fischer

If we all went by this guideline, there would be no need for excessive CYA.

EMT= Empty

We all need a good laugh- and the following letter I found is just that- with her sense of humor she must be in medicine.
This is an actual letter from an Austin woman sent to American company Proctor and Gamble regarding their feminine products. She really gets rolling after the first paragraph. It’s PC Magazine’s 2007 editors’ choice for best webmail-award-winning letter.

Dear Mr. Thatcher,

I have been a loyal user of your ‘Always’ maxi pads for over 20 years and I appreciate many of their features. Why, without the LeakGuard Core or Dri-Weave absorbency, I’d probably never go horseback riding or salsa dancing, and I ‘d certainly steer clear of running up and down the beach in tight, white shorts. But my favorite feature has to be your revolutionary Flexi-Wings. Kudos on being the only company smart enough to realize how crucial it is that maxi pads be aerodynamic. I can’t tell you how safe and secure I feel each month knowing there’s a little F-16 in my pants.

Have you ever had a menstrual period, Mr. Thatcher? Ever suffered from the curse’? I’m guessing you haven’t. Well, my time of the month is starting right now. As I type, I can already feel hormonal forces violently surging through my body. Just a few minutes from now, my body will adjust and I’ll be transformed into what my husband likes to call ‘an inbred hillbilly with knife skills.’ Isn’t the human body amazing?

As Brand Manager in the Feminine-Hygiene Division, you’ve no doubt seen quite a bit of research on what exactly happens during your customers monthly visits from ‘Aunt Flo’. Therefore, you must know about the bloating, puffiness, and cramping we endure, and about our intense mood swings, crying, jags, and out-of-control behavior. You surely realize it’s a tough time for most women. In fact, only last week, my friend Jennifer fought the violent urge to shove her boyfriend’s testicles into a George Foreman Grill just because he told her he thought Grey’s Anatomy was written by drunken chimps. Crazy!

The point is, sir, you of all people must realize that America is just crawling with homicidal maniacs in Capri pants… Which brings me to the reason for my letter. Last month, while in the throes of cramping so painful I wanted to reach inside my body and yank out my uterus, I opened an Always maxi-pad, and there, printed on the adhesive backing, were these words: ‘Have a Happy Period.’

Are you f**king kidding me? What I mean is, does any part of your tiny middle-manager brain really think happiness – actual smiling, laughing happiness is possible during a menstrual period? Did anything mentioned above sound the least bit pleasurable? Well, did it, James? FYI, unless you’re some kind of sick S&M freak, there will never be anything ‘happy’ about a day in which you have to jack yourself up on Asprin and Kahlua and lock yourself in your house just so you don’t march down to the local Walgreen’s armed with a hunting rifle and a sketchy plan to end your life in a blaze of glory.

For the love of God, pull your head out, man! If you just have to slap a moronic message on a maxi pad, wouldn’t it make more sense to say something that’s actually pertinent, like ‘Put down the Hammer’ or ‘Vehicular Manslaughter is Wrong’, or are you just picking on us?

Sir, please inform your Accounting Department that, effective immediately, there will be an $8 drop in monthly profits, for I have chosen to take my maxi-pad business elsewhere. And though I will certainly miss your Flex-Wings, I will not for one minute miss your brand of condescending bullsh*t. And that’s a promise I will keep. Always.

Best,

Wendi Aarons
Austin , TX