tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81958599996782051272024-03-21T23:52:10.057-04:00Responders Unite- AllAboutEMS.com Bookmark this blog for: Short stories and opinion based views on EMS!Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8195859999678205127.post-60142356737652999532014-12-12T00:10:00.001-05:002014-12-14T08:50:31.767-05:00The Downward Spiral- Part 11 There was a sea of guests. Each one asking her how she was holding up. She knew they were trying to be nice, but God, did every conversation need to be about her sister? Needing some air, she slipped out of the room, somehow managing to reach the front door completely unnoticed. Alexis didn't know how much more she could take. The day was supposed to be a celebration of her birthday, but instead, Sammy was all anyone thought about. Alexis opened the door, and walked right into a large chest. She nearly screamed, but quickly realized it was Jeremy standing in front of her.<br />
<br />
"Holy crap, you scared me!" Alexis said. clutching her chest.<br />
<br />
"Sorry about that kiddo, Happy Birthday." Jeremy replied. "Here this is for you" he said, handing her a small gift.<br />
<br />
Alexis held the gift in her hands, looking at it for a short moment. "Thank you for coming Jeremy, I am so happy to see you. Oh, and thanks for the present." She said fumbling with the neatly wrapped gift. "Can you do me a favor though?" she asked, feeling uncertain of herself.<br />
<br />
"Sure" He replied, raising an eyebrow.<br />
<br />
"Can you stop calling me kiddo? I'm tired of people treating me like a child." Alexis said quietly, now unable to look him in the eyes. "Sorry, I know it shouldn't be a big deal, but as of lately, it seems nobody wants to admit that I am now an adult."<br />
<br />
"Sure, I understand. I'll stop. I didn't realize it bothered you." He put his hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "You know Alexis, I don't see you as a child." He said, trying to reassure her. "I haven't for quite some time. You are mature for your age. I'm deeply sorry for making you feel like a kid." Roughing her hair, in a teasing manner, he attempted to change the subject. "Now, miss Lex, why are you out here, while everyone else is in the house celebrating your birthday? Is everything alright?"<br />
<br />
"It's just that, well... nothing. It's nothing. I just needed some air, that's all." She said.<br />
<br />
"Okay. Well, if it's nothing, how about we go inside and celebrate?" Jeremy reached for the doorknob, opening the door for Alexis. Hesitating for just a moment, She moved past him, and back into the crowded room.<br />
<br />
For an hour, Alexis tried her best at coping with stories, and one sided conversations about Sammy. She kept scanning the room, looking for an escape. Looking for Jeremy. Where had he gone? Did he leave without saying goodbye? She hoped not.<br />
<br />
Out of nowhere, a large crash sounded from the kitchen, followed by loud curses. Puzzled, she rushed toward the noise. In the kitchen was Jeremy. Around him was a mess of broken glass, covering the floor. He was yelling at her neighbor, Juan. Jeremy was in Juan's face, almost as if he was daring him to throw a punch. Juan, just stood there, not knowing how to react. Juan spoke to Jeremy nervously. "Woah buddy, calm down. I was just trying to help. I was just trying to help you!"<br />
<br />
Jeremy, then pushed Juan, hard enough to throw him into the wall behind him. Juan hit hard, looking stunned.<br />
<br />
"WOAH! Jeremy! What is going on? What happened?" Alexis yelled.<br />
<br />
"Alexis, Get the fuck out of here! This is none of your fucking business! Get out of here, now!" Jeremy yelled, his speech slurred. Staggering toward a bag on the floor, Jeremy pulled out a bottle of whiskey. He then removed the cap, and took a long, hard drink.<br />
<br />
"I was trying to get him to stop drinking. I told him that he had enough, that he should try and sober up, but he lost it!" Juan stated, trying to move himself away from Jeremy's reach.<br />
<br />
"It's none of his goddamn business!" Jeremy exclaimed, moving toward Juan. "I'm a grown man, I can drink however much I want!"<br />
<br />
"Woah, Jeremy, enough! Juan is right, you need to stop! Please, put the bottle down. We can talk about this!" Alexis pleaded. "Jeremy, please. I am begging you!" Tears threatened to escape.<br />
<br />
Jeremy stopped dead in his tracks, and looked at Alexis. "Awe kiddo, i'm sorry. Don't cry, I'm sorry." Jeremy stumbled forward, stopping right in front of her, pulling her toward him, nearly knocking both of them onto the floor.<br />
<br />
"Jeremy, you need to leave. Let's go, i'll drive you home." Alexis said, disappointment in her eyes. She wasn't prepared to see this side of Jeremy. Truthfully, it scared her to death.<br />
<br />
"God, i'm so sorry Lex. Please, believe me. I'm sorry." Jeremy started to sob. "I just miss her so much. I miss her so damn much."<br />
<br />
"I know, we all do. Now, let's go. We need to get you home. You've had enough to drink tonight."<br />
<br />
After what felt like eternity, Alexis managed to get Jeremy into her car, stopping twice for him to vomit on the grass. She couldn't believe how the night turned out. The party was a disaster, and now, she just wanted to curl up in a ball, and cry herself to sleep. Jeremy sat silently beside her, staring out the window. She guessed he was merely trying not to get sick in her car. Either way, she welcomed the silence.<br />
<br />
She pulled into his driveway, and put the car in park. "Come on, we have to get you into bed." She said to Jeremy, who was now trying to find the door handle, but having trouble. Alexis rolled her eyes and exited the car. She walked to the passenger side of the vehicle, and assisted Jeremy out. She walked him into his house, turning on his lights. She scanned the room quickly, noticing many empty bottles of alcohol. She led Jeremy to his room, and pulled back his blankets, inviting him to get into his bed. Before he did, he grabbed Alexis, pulling her into a hug.<br />
<br />
"Thank you for taking care of me. You're a good person, Lex." He then kissed her on the cheek. With a thud, he tipped over onto his bed. Alexis removed his shoes, and covered him with his blankets. In no time, Jeremy was fast asleep.<br />
<br />
Alexis turned off his light, and closed his door. Tomorrow she would deal with this. Tomorrow, she will tell him just how much he hurt her. "Happy Birthday to me." She mumbled as she walked out to her vehicle, and drove away.<br />
<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8195859999678205127.post-33027481267887834582014-12-11T11:56:00.000-05:002014-12-14T08:50:50.164-05:00The Downward Spiral- Part 10 Alexis looked at her phone. Hesitating slightly, she scrolled through her contact list and selected Jeremy's number. Today was the day of her party, and she really hoped Jeremy would show up. She always liked Jeremy. Secretly, she always had a little crush on him. He was 6 years older than she, but that didn't stop her feeling the way she did.<br />
<br />
It used to kill her seeing the way Jeremy looked at Sammy. She knew Sammy liked him as well, but that never stopped Alexis from hoping that some day, Jeremy would look at her the same way. With a sigh, Alexis hit send.<br />
<br />
The phone rang, and rang, going unanswered. His voice mail picked up, but she ended the call before leaving a message. She didn't want to seem desperate, so instead, she sent him a text message.<br />
<br />
<i> "Hey, It's Alexis. Just wanted to see if you were</i><br />
<i> coming today, or not. I haven't heard from you </i><br />
<i> and we are trying to get a final head count. I </i><br />
<i> tried calling, but you must be busy. Let me </i><br />
<i> know, okay?"</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Closing her phone, Alexis took a deep breath and prayed he would reply. She had a lot to do, to get ready for her birthday bash. She tried to push her thoughts of him aside. He would reply when he was good and ready. She threw her phone onto her bed, and walked out of her room.<br />
<br />
Downstairs, her parents waited for her. The kitchen smelled amazing. Scents of Pancakes, and bacon overtook her senses. Every year for their birthdays, her parents always made a point to make their favorite foods. Alexis just happened to enjoy breakfast the most. She wasn't expecting her parents to do much of anything for her this year, especially after Sammy died. They were not taking it well. Her mother cried every day. Her father often locked himself in his office, not to be seen, or heard from for most of the day. But today, things seemed almost normal. Her mother busy in the kitchen preparing food, and her father at the table reading the news paper. She thought of moving out, but she knew her parents needed her here. Sammy was their oldest daughter, and when she moved out, their mother had cried for days. She doubted her poor mother's heart could handle her leaving right now. Nope, she wouldn't be leaving home anytime soon.<br />
<br />
"Happy Birthday, pumpkin!" Her father said, as he stood to embrace her in a warm hug. "Mom's got breakfast cooking. Hope you're hungry!"<br />
<br />
"You know I can't turn down mom's cooking. It's like heaven!" Alexis said, turning to look at her mother.<br />
<br />
"Happy Birthday, Lex. Are you ready for your party today? It's a big day, you're no longer a teenager!" Her mother tried to smile, but it was hard to cover up the sadness in her eyes.<br />
<br />
Alexis walked to her mother, embraced her in a hug, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, mom. You didn't have to make a huge fuss."<br />
<br />
"You know I had to. I need you girls to know that, even with Sammy gone, I still love you more than life." she said, wiping a tear from her cheek.<br />
<br />
"We know mom. We love you, too." Life definitely wasn't the same without Sammy. But, at least her parents were trying to move forward.<br />
<br />
Alexis gave her mother's shoulder a light squeeze, and walked toward the table. Taking a seat, she looked at her father, trying his best to hide his emotions. It killed her to see them so hurt. How Sammy could leave them like this, with only a note left behind, she didn't know. She thought about the note Sammy left behind. So few words, mostly asking for forgiveness. She said she loved them all, but she couldn't handle losing anyone else. Well, had she thought about what it would do to them, losing her? Did she realize how much her family, and friends cared? Probably not.<br />
<br />
Something else about that note continued to leave her perplexed. What did she mean by "Take care of Jeremy?" She often thought about the meaning behind it. It didn't make much sense. Did she want her to be with him? Did she want her to just check in on him occasionally? Hell, what did it matter now? She wasn't there anymore. She took her life. She left her family broken, barely able to pick up the pieces. She hurt all of those who loved her. Those who would have dropped everything to be there for her, to help her. If only she had reached out, maybe things would have been different. Alexis had a hard time not being angry with her. She felt like Sammy took the coward's way out. Maybe, what she meant no longer mattered. Maybe, just maybe it was time for everyone to stop thinking about what Sammy would have wanted. She left them. All of them. With that thought, Alexis made a decision. She was no longer going to hold back. She wasn't going to be a coward. She knew what she wanted, and she was going to try and get it. She needed to live her life. She needed to get out of Sammy's shadow.<br />
<br />
<br />
***************<br />
<br />
Jeremy awoke, and checked his phone. He had a missed call, and a text message. "Jesus, Drew... you are quite the pest." he murmured to himself, opening his messages. The message was not from Drew. It was from Alexis.<br />
<br />
"Shit." he grumbled to himself. He completely forgot about her party. He knew he should probably go, but the thought of facing her family made him sick to his stomach, or was that the effects of his late night binge drinking? Hell, it was probably both. He sat and thought for a moment, and decided he should probably make an appearance. He didn't want to disappoint her. So, without another thought, he sent her a reply, telling her he would be there. He closed his phone, and cursed to himself. How was he going to handle this? Well, he was going to have to try.<br />
<br />
With a sigh, he climbed out of bed. Once again, the room spun around him. He was getting far too used to this feeling. He knew all he needed was a morning drink to cure it all. But, today that wasn't an option. He dragged himself into his bathroom and started the shower. While waiting for the water to warm up, he walked to his sink. Looking into the mirror hanging just above it, he looked at his 3 day stubble. God, he looked like hell. Was it too late to change his mind, and stay locked in his house for the day? No. He needed to go. He had to. Alexis wanted him there, and he wasn't going to let her down, not like he let Sammy down.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8195859999678205127.post-81666731703792358622014-12-10T10:08:00.000-05:002014-12-14T08:54:54.913-05:00The Downward Spiral- Part 9 Days had gone by, and the feeling of need nipped at his soul. The alcohol wasn't cutting it. He needed the pain killers. His doctor refused to refill the prescription, without seeing him, and damn it that made him mad. So, he made an appointment.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Anxiety ripped through him every step he took toward the front door of his doctor's office. What if he didn't believe that he needed the pain meds? Or even worse, what if he cleared him for duty? With a deep breath, he strode into the office. Trying to put on his best "game face." He just hoped it would be enough. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The receptionist, a woman in her 50's with wild curly blonde hair, and an attitude to be reckoned with, took his name and asked him to take a seat. "Wow, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed." Jeremy mumbled under his breath, and plopped down into the closet chair. The office didn't seem too busy. Hopefully he could be in, and out quickly. Fumbling with his fingers, Jeremy waited impatiently.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
In the door, appeared the office's nurse practitioner. In her hand, she held a clipboard. Looking around, searching the room she called out, "Jeremy?"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Jeremy stood, and sauntered over to the petite woman. She greeted him with a smile. "Right this way, sir."</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Please, the name is Jeremy. The use of sir makes me feel old." He tried to smile, but she didn't look too convinced. Could she tell how much of a mess he was? He didn't think so. He spent extra time this morning trying to clean up, and look presentable. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
They walked in silence down a plain, white hallway lined with rooms. The walls were decorated with paintings of children, flowers, and an occasional "germs are bad" poster, with a small bottle of hand sanitizer perfectly placed underneath. The nurse practitioner stopped in front of room 11, and waited for him to step inside. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Please sir, I mean Jeremy, have a seat. The doctor will be with you momentarily." She slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Jeremy took a seat on the horribly uncomfortable exam table. His eyes scanning the room, taking in the random objects used to decorate. On the window sill sat a plastic model of the heart. On the counter, there were pamphlets regarding obesity, cardiac health, and family planning. What a wide variety of topics, he thought to himself, then laughed because he was actually putting thought into the choice of reading material offered in an exam room. He swore half of what was placed around the room, was strategically left out, to make patient's feel uncomfortable in their own skin. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
After 10 agonizing minutes of waiting in the cramped exam room, a knock sounded on the door. The door creaked open, and in stepped Dr. Stow. The doctor was an older gentleman. His hair completely gray with age. His body, tall and slender. His eyes were magnified by his extremely thick glasses, that made Jeremy think of Harry Potter. The man wasn't much of a looker, that was for certain. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"So, Jeremy how are you feeling." Dr. Stow asked while examining Jeremy's head wound, which was now closed up. While asking Jeremy to do various things, the Doctor continued his exam, waiting for Jeremy to answer.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"I'm okay, still pretty sore. My arm is really bothering me still." Jeremy lied.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Can you wiggle your fingers for me?" Said the doctor, looking deep in thought, moving the focus of his exam to Jeremy's arm. Jeremy wiggled his fingers. "Well, here's what we are going to do, I am going to send you down the hall for an x-ray, but first I need to remove the cast from your arm." Dr. Stow walked out of the exam room, just to return moments later with a tool in his hand that somewhat resembled an air grinder used to remove paint from metal. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Within minutes, his arm was free of the itchy cast. The air touching his skin felt like heaven. with his other hand, he inspected his arm, feeling for any remaining damage. Not feeling any, he felt a sense of urgency. What if his injury was 100% healed, and they refused to give him pain meds? The thought nearly drove him crazy. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Dr. Stow directed Jeremy toward x-ray, and escorted him into the room.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
After the X-ray was completed, Jeremy was brought back to his exam room, where he sat impatiently, once again. Dr. Stow re-entered the room, with a smile on his face.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Well, I have good news." He said. "X-ray is all clear. You no longer need the cast. It may take a few days for your arm to adjust to not being in a cast, but you are good to go!"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Jeremy's heart sank. That is not what he was hoping for. This meant he would have to return to work. This meant no more pain medication. Unless of course, he played his cards right.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"I am still having some pain in the area. Is there any way I could get another script for pain meds, especially for after work? I mean, my job requires lifting and I am afraid that the first few shifts back will put a huge strain on it." Jeremy said, holding his freshly un-casted arm.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Sure, I can't see any issue with that. I will fill out that script now. I will also give you a note to return to work. If you have any issues, call us up immediately." Dr. Stow left the room. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Jeremy was relieved. At least for now, he had his meds back. He had something to fall back on when his thoughts became too much. But now, he had to face having to return to work. With a sigh, he went to the receptionist, collected his paperwork, and went to the closest pharmacy. Tonight, he wouldn't think of anything other than oblivion. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8195859999678205127.post-39101479355395355082014-12-09T18:19:00.000-05:002014-12-14T08:51:18.679-05:00The downward spiral part 8 Jeremy awoke to his phone ringing. He reached over and hit the silence button. weeks had past since he left the hospital. He spent most days laying on the couch, dozing off. With the help of the narcotics and alcohol, he was able to get through each day. Days that Andrew came over, were the only days he spent sober. Normally, Andrew would call in the morning, and ask him if he was up for visitors. That gave him enough time to get up, take a shower, and hide his booze. It felt silly to him that a grown man such as himself felt the need to hide anything, but after Andrew and Dawn had to rescue his drunk, injured ass, he thought it would be best that they didn't know he was still drinking.<br />
<br />
Sammy was still on his mind. He couldn't seem to remove the image of her lifeless body, cold and wet from his thoughts. 6 months had passed since Sammy's death, but time did nothing to fade the memory. He spent every minute, of every day missing his best friend. Without her, Jeremy felt like a waste of life. Like dog-shit on the soles of someone's boot. Reaching for his pain pills, out of instinct, Jeremy opened the cap. This was his last one. With a deep sigh, Jeremy tossed the pill into his mouth, and swallowed. This would be the last time medication would numb him.<br />
<br />
With a sigh, Jeremy removed himself from his bed. His goal for the day was simple, eat breakfast, then drink. Hell, that seemed to be his goal everyday. He knew at some point, he would have to face reality. He knew his time home on injury was numbered. But not today. Today he could pretend that what his life had become was okay. That this is what he needed to do to heal. He could pretend that he didn't need to return to a job that reminded him of how much life could really suck. He used to love his job. He lived and breathed the adrenaline. Not anymore. No, he felt as though he never would love it again.<br />
<br />
A knock sounded on his door. "Shit." he mumbled to himself. With a quick glance in the mirror, Jeremy checked to see if he looked any better than he felt. Nope, he looked like hell. The knocked sounded again, louder this time. "Coming!" Jeremy yelled, rolling his eyes at the impatience of his unwanted visitor. With a sigh, Jeremy opened the door. He thought it would be Andrew, he was gearing up to yell at him for just dropping in, when he saw the small figure standing in his doorway.<br />
<br />
It was Alexis.<br />
<br />
"You promised that you'd visit us." Sadness, showing in her eyes.<br />
<br />
"I'm sorry kiddo, I haven't felt up to it. I swear I had every intention on stopping in." Jeremy replied. His heart sinking when she tilted her head up to look at him. Her face looked haunted. Eyes red from crying. Dang, he felt like a jerk. He forgot that he wasn't the only one missing Sammy.<br />
<br />
"We've really needed you. I've Really needed you." Alexis sighed, wiping a tear from cheek. "I stopped at the station to see you. Dawn told me you had injured yourself. Are you okay?"<br />
<br />
Jeremy paused for a moment. He felt guilty. He didn't want Alexis, or the rest of Sammy's family worrying about him. "I'm fine. Had a weak moment. I'm getting better everyday." He lied. Forcing a smile, that didn't quite reach his eyes.<br />
<br />
Alexis studied his face for a moment, as if she was trying to see through him. With a shrug, apparently satisfied with what she saw, she hurried forward, and hugged Jeremy.<br />
<br />
Jeremy tensed up. Not knowing what to do. For a long moment, he merely just stood there. Then, he lightly wrapped his arms around Alexis. Alexis breathed deep, as if she was afraid that Jeremy would reject her. But now, she wasn't sure why she felt that way. She had known Jeremy for years, and he never passed up a hug. Something inside her told her, the Jeremy standing before her, was not the same Jeremy she knew 6 months ago. That was a damn shame.<br />
<br />
Alexis pulled away from Jeremy. With a light smile. she looked him in the eyes. "Listen, my birthday is next week. I'm turning 20, and we are having a get together. I wanted to invite you. Please consider coming. I'd really like to see you there." Now, blushing for a reason unknown to herself, she pushed the party invitation into his chest. "I hope to see you there." She said as she hurriedly walked back to her car.<br />
<br />
"What was that all about?" Jeremy wondered out loud. With a shake of his head, he turned to go back into his house. He stared at the invitation in hand. Should he go? Hell, he probably should, but he knew he wouldn't. He didn't feel ready to face reality. He wanted to be alone. Alone, and drinking.<br />
<br />
Jeremy strode toward the kitchen, looking at his collection of booze. Suddenly, whiskey just didn't seem like enough. Knowing his pill supply was depleted, he settled for the next best thing, his old buddy "Jack."<br />
<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8195859999678205127.post-88327125633678650792014-03-08T19:53:00.000-05:002014-06-10T23:40:50.842-04:00Is God among us? You spend the early hours of the morning removing a pair of teenage boys from the wreckage of what was once a vehicle. The first, is deceased on scene. As much as you wish you could help him, he is gone. The second, his life hangs by a string. A string that dangles in your face, taunting you. You hope with everything in you, that you can keep this kid alive, but he too succumbs to his injuries. You put your heart, sweat, and even your tears into these kids, and in the end you couldn't help either of them. Their young lives ended far too soon. It's hard to fathom how God could have been present. You can't even think of anything good that could come out of losing two young kids, who's lives were still ahead of them. Sometimes you wonder why you had to be there to see such tragedy unfold. Then the words of others pop into your head, and remind you that, "you can't save them all."<br />
<br />
You go about cleaning up your vehicle, to remove the remnants of the gory scene, that moments earlier took place. You step outside of the vehicle, and catch a warm breeze on your face. You raise your eyes, and bare witness to the most beautiful sunrise you have ever seen. Beautiful streaks of pink, orange, and purples smudged together forming a natural masterpiece. In that moment, you think to yourself "how can something so beautiful, something so perfect exist right after such a horrific, and emotionally draining night?" Is there a reason this once in a lifetime sunrise happened that day? Was it meant to be there when your mind needed it most? The world sometimes surprises you with it's beauty, often when you feel there is no beauty left.<br />
<br />
It's easy to chalk it up to mere coincidence, one that happened to give you just what you needed, at just the right moment. Could this perfectly timed comfort be the work of a higher power, telling you in silent beauty that you did what he wanted you to do, even though his plan was something different? It gives you something to think about.<br />
<br />
What if, every fatal accident we encounter, every innocent death, every murder, every sad call we bare witness to teaches us a little lesson? What if our mere presence, whether we can help or not is simply meant to be comfort enough for a family experiencing unbelievable grief? What if each experience sets us up for that one moment when we are put to the test and come out victorious? These are simple questions, but they leave a lot of room for wonder.<br />
<br />
Have you witnessed calm, comfort such as this before? Have you felt like something was placed right in front of you because at that moment in time, that is what you really needed? Do you stop and look for the beauty around you after seeing the horror that life can bring?<br />
<br />
I for one sometimes appreciate the well timed "gifts." Whether they are from God, or by mere coincidence. Sometimes looking for the beauty around you, can be just what you need.<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8195859999678205127.post-55464729137736499932014-02-11T17:08:00.001-05:002014-02-11T17:08:09.237-05:00A day in the life.....It takes 6 alarms set on my cell phone to wake me up. I never really sleep for more than 4-5 hours a night. The years of doing this are starting to take a toll on my body. It takes me no longer than 15 minutes to shower and get myself ready. What's the point of looking my best? I will probably be wearing someone else's bodily fluid on me by noon.<br />
<br />
I arrive at the station 20 minutes early, as I do every shift. Nobody likes when you get a call 20 minutes before you are supposed to be off. It's a courtesy thing, make sure you are there early so the crew before you can leave on time. Not like that ever means anything. Chances are they went out 15 minutes before you got there anyway, and will get out late just the same.<br />
<br />
We do crew change, it's 7am and we are in the middle of going through our Ambulance to make sure nothing is missing when the first call of our shift comes in. *Attention A3, respond to 44456 maple drive for the unresponsive patient, unknown breathing status.*<br />
<br />
You gather your things, hop in the front, and drive quickly to this residence. A hysterical wife, approximately in her late 70's greets you with tears in her eyes. She explains that she woke up and Joesph, her husband of 50 years wasn't breathing. You move past this grieving woman, into the bedroom where Joseph lays. He has been gone for hours. With a quick eval, we determine that rigor has set in, and traces of lividity stream down his left side, which was the side he was sleeping on. I attach him to the 4 lead monitor, and notice out of the corner of my eye the look of hope shining in the eyes of Agnus, his wife. I turn on the monitor and see what I expected to see, a flat line. There is nothing we can do for Joseph. We turn to Agnus, regretting what we are about to tell her. That her husband was too far gone, and that there was nothing we could do. We watch as the hope drains from her eyes, and is quickly replaced again with tears of sorrow. Her sobs fill the room, like a deafening roar. I lower my head, place my hand on her shoulder, and tell her that I am truly sorry for her loss. With that, we leave.<br />
<br />
Now we are heading back to the base, when we are summoned once again. This time, it's a 19 year old female experiencing nausea and vomiting. We head to this emergency, just as quickly as we went to the last. We arrive, and what is the first thing that happens? I get puked on. We move her to the awaiting ambulance, give her an IV, and some nausea medication and we are on our way to the hospital.<br />
<br />
The day continues on and on in this manner. It's flu season, so a lot of people have vomited in my vicinity. My stomach rumbles. The thought of a cheeseburger crosses my mind when we hear the tones again. *Attention A3, head to Rt 72 in the area of jake's bar for the person unresponsive in a vehicle." You call en route, and there goes the thought of dinner. 3 times you are updated. Each update painting a more gruesome picture. *A3, be advised the patient is located outside of the car on the pavement, in a pool of blood.* Then the next *A3, we are actually getting report that he is unresponsive, and has lost a lot of blood and is actually under a vehicle.* Then fire updates us... *A3, the patient is in cardiac arrest, was a pedestrian struck by a motor-vehicle at approximately 60mph. Launched about 75ft into the parking of Jake's bar.* This one is going to be messy.<br />
<br />
We get on scene, a bar full of spectators encircle this patient. Knowing well the nature of a crowd full of intoxicated individuals, we work quickly to get him out public view. Blood lay pooled on the pavement. The man's shoes? They were knocked right off of him and are about 50 yards apart. In the light of the truck we see everything more clearly. Large skull fractures, blood coming from every orifice. 2 IVs are started, epi is pushed, and CPR is performed. I go to intubate, the airway is nothing but blood. Finally the tube goes in and we are breathing for him. What is that on the monitor? How the heck? This guy has a pulse back. We make quick work of him, in the short distance to the hospital. He made it, but won't likely make it long term.<br />
<br />
The truck is a mess. We spend 20 minutes cleaning up blood and wrappers. Just as we finish, we make a mental note of the equipment used, and head back to our service area. We stock our truck, and then receive our next call. This time, it's a Heroin overdose.... and off we go again.<br />
<br />
The night continues on with very few breaks in between calls. 24 hours on this shift is brutal. We maybe got 2 hours of sleep. Our relief will be in at 6:40am... it is now 6:35am.... The tones drop. Another unresponsive patient, unknown breathing status. Another one called in too late. We couldn't help this patient.<br />
<br />
We get off shift 45 minutes late.<br />
<br />
Some shifts are easy, others are hard. You will never know what a day will bring.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8195859999678205127.post-90580932424739705152013-12-22T10:29:00.001-05:002014-12-14T08:51:34.878-05:00The Downward Spiral- Part 7 Jeremy lifted his face toward the sun, it's rays meeting his skin, like a warm touch. The slight breeze crept over his skin. It felt good to be out of his hospital room. It was such a beautiful day, but all that consumed his mind was being home, alone. Without the help of the pain medication, that was graciously given to him during his hospital stay, he was sure to be overwhelmed with emotion once again. Birds chirped in the trees, a sound he used to enjoy listening to, was now more of an annoyance. As if knowing he needed to be pulled out of his thoughts, the sound of an engine broke the tension. It was Andrew, arriving right on cue.<br />
<div>
Andrew slowed to a stop, right beside Jeremy. His black SUV, worn with age. Jeremy walked slowly toward the passenger side door, reaching with his good arm for the loose handle. Andrew's SUV was never easy to get into, and Jeremy had been harping on him to get a new vehicle for years. Andrew always laughed, and said "Sally will be replaced when she is ready. I will run her into the ground. No need getting a new vehicle, when I have one that works just fine." With a slight wiggle of the handle, the door creaked open. </div>
<div>
"Hey dude, how's it hanging?" Andrew greeted Jeremy with a smile.</div>
<div>
"Short, shriveled, and a little to the left." Jeremy replied with a grin. At least for now, Andrew's light humor could distract him from the dark thoughts threatening to surface. </div>
<div>
"Too much information buddy, get in. Do you have to make a run to the drug store? I figured I would play errand boy for you. I have nothing better to do today, anyway." Andrew said, with a playful pat on the seat, as a gesture for Jeremy to climb in. </div>
<div>
"Yeah, that would be great. I have a couple prescriptions to fill. Thanks bud. I appreciate this." Jeremy answered. </div>
<div>
"Alrighty. Let's go then. I see enough of this place, it's time for a change of scenery." Andrew stated. </div>
<div>
They left the hospital parking lot, and headed down RT. 62 toward the nearest pharmacy. Andrew tried making small talk, but Jeremy was back into his thoughts. With each person they passed, Jeremy began to resent the happiness of others. If the world saw the images he was forced to see, he could bet that they wouldn't smile as much as they did. Then again, they choose to be blissfully unaware of the ugliness around them. The death, sickness, and abuse. The closest these people come to any of it, was from what the news allowed them to see, which was nothing more than crime scene tape, and smashed up cars. With a simple, "That's sad." they move on with their lives, simply forgetting those that were lost. He thought, these people are like sheep mindlessly being herded into a slaughter house. Unaware of the events that could unfold in front of them. They enjoy their green meadows, never realizing that they too could be just another victim, shown on the 11:00 news. If only they knew, maybe life would be different. Instead, they live in a society where everyone thinks, "That can't happen to me." Jeremy let out a deep a sigh. </div>
<div>
"We're here dude, you want me to run in for you, so you don't have to fight with the door?"</div>
<div>
"Sure, you'll need my address. One of the scripts is for pain medication, so you will need my Address." Jeremy replied, slightly grateful that Andrew gave him the opportunity to avoid people. </div>
<div>
"I have your address, no big deal. I will be right back." Andrew swung his door open, and hopped out of the driver's seat. With a loud thud, he closed the door behind him. </div>
<div>
Jeremy watched Andrew disappear into the store. He sat there, and watched person after person walk in, and out of the store. He almost felt sorry for them. They were so used to the ins, and outs of life that they never stopped once to see the bigger picture. He couldn't say much though. After Sammy died, he stopped enjoying life. Those moments with her, that he took for granted now ate at his soul. He wished he had done things differently. he couldn't help but feel like Sammy's death was his fault. He should have stayed by her side. He should have told her long ago how he felt. Maybe if he had, she would still be alive. Jeremy threw his head back, into the head rest. He immediately was thrown from his thoughts. He winced at the sharp pain, that consumed him. Duh, he had forgotten about the laceration on the back of his head. "Smooth move, idiot" he mumbled under his breath. </div>
<div>
Andrew appeared in the doorway of the store. He walked toward the SUV, carrying bags in his hands. Jeremy watched him approach the vehicle. Andrew hopped in, throwing the bags at Jeremy. </div>
<div>
"What's this? Looks like more than just the prescriptions." Jeremy asked.</div>
<div>
"I picked up some extra things. I got you some easy to make, canned goodies. I also picked up plastic bags to cover your cast with, so you can shower. OH! I also got you candy. Who can resist candy?" Andrew answered, with amusement in his eyes.</div>
<div>
"You're trying to make me fat, aren't you?" Jeremy said, accusingly. </div>
<div>
"Dang, you're starting to sound like a woman. A simple thank you would suffice." Andrew laughed. </div>
<div>
Jeremy did realize he was being rude to his friend. He went out of his way to help him, and he was treating him like rudely. "Thanks buddy, I was joking around. I really appreciate this. It's just hard to accept help sometimes."</div>
<div>
"Let go of your pride for a bit, and let me take care of you pookie." Andrew said, letting out a howling laugh, that came straight from his belly. </div>
<div>
"I will, if you stop treating me like a woman!" Jeremy smiled, but again it didn't quite reach his eyes. He was trying hard to be seem happy. The best he could do, was to pretend.</div>
<div>
"Alright, alright. My muffin is cranky. Let's get you home." Andrew said, sensing that Jeremy was ready to be back in seclusion. </div>
<div>
"Thanks." Jeremy stared out the window the rest of the ride to his house. His head was pounding, and he couldn't wait to pop some pills, and lay down. They pulled into his driveway, and Jeremy reached to open the door. He was stopped by Andrew putting his hand on his shoulder. </div>
<div>
"Listen, I cleaned everything up. If you need anything at all, please don't hesitate to call. We're brothers, and I will be here in a heartbeat, if you need me." Andrew said, concern showing on his face.</div>
<div>
"I know, and thanks. I appreciate it. I will call if I need you. Thanks again." Jeremy said, while opening the door of the SUV. He slid down off of the seat, and grabbed the bags from the store, loading them onto his good arm. With his foot, he closed the door of Andrew's vehicle, and strode toward his house. </div>
<div>
He struggled to open his door, but once he got it open, the smell of chemical cleaner overtook his senses. He was almost glad that it wasn't the smell of alcohol, but that didn't stop him from walking right to the cabinet that held his liquor. He placed his bags down, and opened the cabinet. There was nothing in it. Andrew had tossed the rest of his alcohol. Jeremy's blood boiled. Hundreds of dollars in alcohol, gone! He was going to kill him!</div>
<div>
Frantically, Jeremy searched through his bags, and found the narcotics. He opened the cap, and shook out a couple of pills. He threw them to the back of his throat, and swallowed. Hopefully that would help take the edge off. </div>
<div>
He paced, and paced until the medication began to kick in. Slowly he felt himself relax, sleepiness consumed him. He strode toward his bed, and laid down. Happy that the narcotics, once again took away his pain he closed his eyes, and with a deep breath he began to drift off to sleep. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px; line-height: 14.399999618530273px;">Written by: RU- Responders Unite</span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8195859999678205127.post-86025681390618321212013-12-21T15:35:00.003-05:002014-12-14T08:51:56.897-05:00The Downward Spiral- Part 6 Jeremy awoke in the hospital. For the first time in, what seemed like forever, he was pain free. He felt content, and worry free. He could thank the narcotics for that. He spent 4 hours in the ER before they decided they wanted to keep him overnight for observation. His right arm, now in a cast was broken in two places. The doctor had said he was lucky that he didn't need surgery. The laceration on his head required staples, but besides having a bad concussion, there was nothing serious noted on his CT scans.<br />
He didn't want to open his eyes. He liked feeling content. All was quiet around him. He could get used to this. His IV was hooked up to a pump, which allowed him to administer his own pain medication every 10 minutes. Each time he pressed the button, the medication would creep through his veins, and comfort him. There was nothing sweeter than that feeling.<br />
A knock sounded on the door, forcing Jeremy away from his thoughts. He cursed under his breath, because reality had set in. He was forced to open his eyes. He looked over, and at the door stood Andrew. In his hands, he carried fast food, and a couple magazines. As mad as he was at Andrew for even suggesting that he needed a babysitter, he couldn't be mad at his peace offering. The thought of a juicy burger, and fries made him stomach rumble. The smell overtook his senses. The smell of grease and cheese was almost heavenly.<br />
"Hey pal, can I come in? I come bearing gifts." Andrew asked, with a smile on his face. He knew Jeremy's weakness for unhealthy food.<br />
"That depends, are you going to try and hand feed me?" Jeremy replied, trying to sound mad.<br />
"Only if you want me to, big boy. I'll even pre-chew it for you." Andrew replied laughing.<br />
"I just puked in my mouth a bit. Yeah, I guess you can come in." Jeremy settled back into his pillow. "There is an extra chair over there, pull it over."<br />
Andrew pulled the chair over to Jeremy's bedside. He grabbed the bedside tray, and started pulling the bacon cheeseburgers out of the bag, and placed them in front of Jeremy. Next, he pulled out the fries. Jeremy didn't wait to dig in. Compared to the lousy excuse for food that the hospital served, this was paradise. Andrew and Jeremy ate in silence, except for the occasional groans of satisfaction that escaped Jeremy's lips. Andrew choked back laughter, at Jeremy's response.<br />
"Thanks for the grub, I think this place was trying to starve me." Jeremy said, accidentally releasing a belch, that was loud enough to wake the dead.<br />
"No problemo buddy, I figured the food they were serving was gag-worthy." Andrew knew the food would be a good ice breaker. "So, how are you doing buddy? I see they got you bandaged up nicely."<br />
"Ended up with a concussion, and my arm is broken in 2 places. Other than that, I suppose I will live." Jeremy laughed.<br />
"Good to hear, brother. How long will you be down and out for? Did they tell you?"<br />
"Will probably be out of work for 6 weeks or so. Won't know much more, until I talk to the specialist. I could use the break from Cunty, anyway. That woman is enough to make a grown man want to heave himself off of a tall bridge. It's a wonder she found a man desperate enough to marry her."<br />
Andrew laughed. Jeremy sure did draw the short straw, when he got placed with Cathy 48 hours a week. He wouldn't wish that torture on anyone. Everyone at the department secretly hoped she would quit, or be on the receiving end of a career ending back injury. All she ever did was complain, and make everyone's life miserable. If Andrew had to hear her complain about the "crappy" equipment on their truck one more time he was going to lose his composure. Poor Jeremy had to deal with it 2 days a week! Maybe a 6 week vacation is just what Jeremy needed to start getting back to his old self. It wasn't exactly a bad thing. He just hoped it helped his friend.<br />
The timer chimed on Jeremy's medication pump. It was time for his next dose of pain medication. Without a second thought, he pressed the button. Andrew looked at him inquisitively. "What are they giving you? Hope it's something good!" Andrew asked.<br />
"Dilaudid. This shit is great. I feel like a million bucks!" Jeremy replied, looking amused.<br />
"No wonder you are so happy, they have you all doped up on the good stuff. You must have given them the puppy-dog eyes." Andrew joked. "Or it could have been the fact that you came in, naked. Must have impressed the ladies. Good going. Make sure to take names and numbers!"<br />
Jeremy laughed. He forgotten about his state of nakedness, upon his arrival. They had quickly dressed him in a johnny, and covered him in blankets, fresh from the warmer. "I highly doubt I impressed anyone. Apparently breaking bones warrants the good stuff. I'm not complaining. I haven't felt this good in a long ass time."<br />
"Enjoy it now buddy, I don't think they will allow you to take that thing home with you. Which reminds me, I know you said no before, but now that you are in a cast, and have metal in your head, are you sure you don't want to stay with me for a few days? I can help you out. I am sure it won't be easy cooking, or taking care of yourself with a bum arm. I just want to make sure you are alright. I don't mind at all. Wouldn't be bad to have company for awhile."<br />
Jeremy knew his friend was just trying to be nice. This time, him asking didn't seem like an attack. He knew his friend had only good intentions in mind. "I should be okay, dude. Thank you for offering. I appreciate it. Sorry about before, I didn't mean to fly off the handle on you. I know you mean well. Thanks for giving a shit. I will be fine going home by myself. But feel free to stop by with food. Tell Dawn I wouldn't object to her famous lasagna either!" Jeremy said wish a chuckle.<br />
"Do you want me to go clean up your house for you? I don't mind, and you left it quite a mess." Andrew asked.<br />
"You don't have to do that, Drew. You have done enough for me. Just merely answering my call was more than enough." Jeremy replied, humbled that he had a friend that looked out for him.<br />
"It's no problem at all. I will head over and clean up after I leave here. I know where your hide-a-key is anyway. Call me tomorrow when they release you. I will pick you up, and bring you home."<br />
"Thanks dude. I will make it up to you." Jeremy said, choking back his emotions.<br />
"No worries, dude. Now, stop getting all emotional. Next thing I know, you will be trying to kiss me." Andrew said.<br />
Andrew stood and walked towards the door. "I'll see you tomorrow dude. Call me if you need anything."<br />
"Thanks again. I appreciate it. I will see you tomorrow. If you come with more cheeseburgers, I just may be forced to kiss you!." Jeremy waved to his friend, who was pretending to gag while walking out of Jeremy's hospital room.<br />
Jeremy laid back on his pillow. Seeing Andrew was nice, he was glad he showed up. He felt lucky to have good friends. But, right now the biggest thing he was thankful for, was his pain medication. It made him feel numb. A good kind of numb. He was almost happy. He closed his eyes, and with a deep sigh, he drifted off into a deep sleep.<br />
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<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px; line-height: 14.399999618530273px;">Written by: RU- Responders Unite</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; line-height: 17.99715805053711px;">© Responders Unite- Do not remove author's name from material.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px; line-height: 14.399999618530273px;"> </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8195859999678205127.post-71746650571196013042013-12-10T09:56:00.001-05:002013-12-10T10:00:32.618-05:00From The Eyes Of Emergency RespondersSometimes I wish you could see what I see<br />
A lifeless body, his car wrapped around a tree<br />
police say speed is what caused his demise<br />
I am the one who has to look into his lifeless eyes.<br />
<br />
You're careless, with no regard<br />
I wish getting through to you wasn't so hard<br />
Your family is what suffers in the end.<br />
Why would you risk so much, my friend?<br />
<br />
If for one moment, you looked through my eyes<br />
You would see that life can be taken by surprise<br />
No one is safe from the fate of death<br />
But acting selfish, can quicken it's wrath.<br />
<br />
Everyone thinks it can't happen to me<br />
But, for one moment think of what I see<br />
Cars are fast, and when you lose control<br />
Your seat belt does not always save you as a whole<br />
<br />
The next time you drive, recklessly<br />
or respond to a text,<br />
that you just can't wait to see<br />
Remember that life can be gone in a flash<br />
And your family is left with the pain of your crash.<br />
<br />
Written by: RU- Responders Unite<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; line-height: 17.99715805053711px;">© Responders Unite- Do not remove author's name from material.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px; line-height: 14.399999618530273px;"> </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8195859999678205127.post-974948046779730782013-12-09T13:53:00.003-05:002014-12-14T08:52:21.673-05:00The Downward Spiral- Part 5 Andrew stood there, surveying the scene in front of him. Jeremy, his friend of many years laid naked on the floor. Dried blood, and glass was encrusted into his hair. Tiny cuts laced his pale skin. Andrew took a deep breath, and knelt next to Jeremy. He could see a large laceration to the back of his skull, which is where he assumed most of the blood came from. Jeremy was barely conscious, and was shivering. Hell, his buddy was probably in shock, or at least making his way to that point. He knew he needed to act quickly, warm him up, and get control of his C-spine.<br />
<div>
Dawn entered behind Andrew, with the stretcher and their equipment. They made quick work of Jeremy. First, brushing off some of the glass fragments, then immobilizing him. They worked quickly to actively warm him, by laying warm blankets over his naked body. Jeremy barely acknowledged them. Dawn, skillfully punctured Jeremy's skin with a large bore needle, and attached warm IV fluid to the catheter, now secured to his hand. His other arm, which appeared broken and deformed, now laid across Jeremy's chest splinted. </div>
<div>
They both could smell the pungent odor of stale alcohol. It filled the air, consuming their senses. There was no doubt in their mind, that it was the consumption of alcohol that caused this to happen. On their way in, they saw first hand the destruction Jeremy had caused, in his kitchen. Broken bottles, holes in the wall, the overturned table, and chairs, the dried blood on the floor where they had guessed Jeremy had fallen. It was amazing to them, that he didn't hurt himself worse. With a count of 3, Dawn and Andrew lifted Jeremy onto the waiting stretcher, and secured him. Carefully, they maneuvered their way through the destruction, out to their waiting ambulance. </div>
<div>
Andrew hopped in back of the truck with Jeremy. With a nod, Dawn closed the back doors and strode toward the driver's seat. Andrew looked carefully at Jeremy, and nudged him to try to wake him up.</div>
<div>
"Hey dude, what happened?" Andrew asked, trying to check Jeremy's level of consciousness.</div>
<div>
"The hell if I know, my head hurts pretty bad, my fucking arm is broken." Jeremy answered, barely loud enough for Andrew to hear, over the hum of the diesel engine. </div>
<div>
"Yeah, I bet you are one hurting SOB, brother. You have a nice laceration on the back of your head, and yeah dude, appears you did a number on your arm too." Andrew tried not to let his concern show through, but wasn't exactly successful at it. "Can you tell me what day it is, and where you are?" Andrew asked.</div>
<div>
"Well, I don't know what day it is, or how long I was out for, but I do know the back of A1 when I see it." </div>
<div>
"Yeap, kind of hard not to miss the broken clock in the back of this darling, huh." Andrew replied with a chuckle. Then, his voice got more serious. "Jeremy, what sent you over the edge? This is the worst I have seen you since, you know. I am concerned, I don't like seeing you like this."</div>
<div>
Jeremy thought for a moment, as if trying to pull the memories from his mind. A wave of sadness overcame him, when the thought of Sammy's letter entered into his mind. Tears again threatened his eyes. "A letter. It was a letter from Sammy. Her suicide note, to be exact. Alexis gave it to me. It... It was a tough read. Brought up a lot of old feelings. She loved me bro, she said so in the note. I... I couldn't handle it. I needed to numb the pain." Jeremy sobbed. The words, coming out in bursts. </div>
<div>
"Shit." Andrew relied in shock. "I am so sorry man. I wish none of this happened. I don't know what to say."</div>
<div>
"Not much anyone can do now. Nothing is going to make it suck any less." Jeremy replied, his sobbing more controlled. </div>
<div>
"Yeah, I know." Andrew replied.</div>
<div>
They both sat in silence as the Ambulance rocked with each divot in the road. As the sirens wailed, the sound was muffled by the noise of the engine. Andrew made a move toward the seat behind Jeremy's head. He reached for the radio, to call his report into St. John's Hospital. After relaying his information, he replaced the mic and moved back toward Jeremy. He checked Jeremy's vital signs, and was pleased to see that he was improving with the bolus of warm fluid. </div>
<div>
"We will get you to the hospital, and get you all fixed up. I think, maybe after you get released you should come stay with me for awhile, or at least have someone stay with you."</div>
<div>
"I don't need anyone with me, I don't want a babysitter." Jeremy scowled. </div>
<div>
"It's not babysitting, I just think you could benefit from having some company for awhile. My offer still stands, just think about it, okay? We've already lost someone we care about, we don't need to lose another."</div>
<div>
"I'm not going to kill myself, dammit!" Jeremy yelled, anger replacing any sadness he was feeling. How could they think he was trying to hurt himself? He was a drunk. No more, no less. </div>
<div>
"Alright. Fine. I was just trying to reach out. No need to take my head off." Andrew replied. </div>
<div>
The rest of the ride to the hospital was silent. Andrew, now angry with Jeremy was trying as hard as he could to hide it. What had Jeremy become? This is not the person he knew. He'd be damned if he let another one of his friends self destruct. He would make damn sure of that! The sound of the back up alarm snapped him out if his thoughts, they were at the hospital. </div>
<div>
Dawn put the truck in park. She slid out of the drivers seat, and slowly walked toward the back of the box. She had heard the whole argument, and was not looking forward to getting into the middle of it. She thought to herself, "well, here goes nothing." She opened the doors slowly, and looked into the faces of both men. She couldn't help but smile. They reminded her of children. Arms crossed, stomping off into different directions. Yelling, "you're not my friend anymore", or the more familiar "you're not my brother anymore" that she often heard from her own children. Trying to choke down a laugh she looked at Andrew with amusement in her eyes.</div>
<div>
"Are we all set, or should I close the doors and let you two pout some more?" She asked, in amusement.</div>
<div>
"we're all set, let's just get this miserable bastard into the ER." Andrew replied, still scowling.</div>
<div>
Jeremy didn't offer up so much as a single word. He was lost in his own thoughts. "Well, alright then. Let's roll." Dawn said, trying to cut the tension that laid thick between her two coworkers. "Maybe we can have you two kiss and make up later." </div>
<div>
This time, Jeremy answered. He looked at Dawn, softness in his eyes. "Sorry sweetness, but if that ass clown so much as tries to tongue me, he will get knocked on his ass."<br />
That did it, all three of them began to laugh, but only for a moment. Jeremy's laughs turned into winces of pain, as the memories of his injuries ripped through him.<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px; line-height: 14.399999618530273px;">STAY TUNED FOR "The Downward Spiral- Part 6"</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; line-height: 17.99715805053711px;">Written by: RU- Responders Unite</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; line-height: 17.99715805053711px;">© Responders Unite- Do not remove author's name from material.</span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8195859999678205127.post-53160009450664759332013-12-02T13:11:00.001-05:002014-12-14T08:52:44.229-05:00The Downward Spiral- Part 4 The ringing was almost deafening. The sounds consumed him. It felt as though a bomb had just exploded around him, leaving him blind and deaf. He tried to open his eyes, but the world around him was blurry. He tried to move, but he was overcome with pain. It rippled through him, like the shock of an earthquake. Pieces of broken glass pricked his skin, like the sting of a thousand bees. Each point of entry burning, and throbbing. The floor around him was wet and sticky. He could feel the chill straight to his bones. Once again, he strained to open his eyes, this time the world around him was not so out of focus.<br />
He could see the destruction he left in the wake of his anger. His kitchen looked like it had been raided by thieves, except nothing was missing. Broken glass, coffee, and alcohol covered the floor. The combined scents were enough to make anyone turn up their nose in disgust. Under his head, he could feel the remains of what was once a chair, now broken into pieces.<br />
Again, he tried moving. His head felt as though it was getting ready to explode. Throbbing, searing pain raced across his forehead to the back of his head. He couldn't tell if it was from the booze, or from the fall. With his right hand, he made an attempt to move, but the pain from what appeared to be a broken hand ripped through him, stealing the breath from his lungs. He coughed, desperate for air.<br />
He tried again to move, this time using his left hand. That seemed to be okay. He inspected himself this time, trying to take count of his injuries. Gently he reached for his broken hand, caressing it lightly. It was swollen, and at his wrist, seemed to be disfigured. Running up the length of the rest of his arm, nothing else seemed to be injured. He slowly moved his hand to the back of his head. Dried blood, matted his hair. Great, he had to go and fracture his skull. He tried to let out a grunt, but pain ripped through his ribs. He probably fractured those too. At a loss for what to do, he made an attempt so search out a phone.<br />
He remembered that he had emptied his pockets in his bathroom. Of course, right? How was he going to get to it? Holding his breath, he flipped himself onto his stomach. Dizziness overwhelmed him. His head, exploded reminding him of his injuries. Muscling strength from deep inside, he got to his knees. Every muscle in his body screamed at him to stop. But he knew he needed to call for help. Inch by inch, Jeremy crawled to his bathroom. Each movement he made, his body objected. After what seemed like hours of torture, he made it to the bathroom.<br />
Jeremy, still on his knees, reached with his good hand for his phone, his right hand protesting wildly at the added weight he placed on it. The pain, It was so intense that he vomited. With a quick swipe, he managed to knock his cellphone to the floor. Moving away from his vomit, just slightly he laid himself back down on his stomach.<br />
Trying to recollect himself, he reached out for his phone. Struggling to see the images on the screen, he opened up his recent calls menu. The first name that popped up was, Andrew. Jeremy touched his name, and hit send. It felt like eternity, listening to the phone ring, when Andrew finally answered.<br />
"Hey, buddy! What are you wearing?" Andrew answered, jokingly.<br />
"Drew.... I need your help.... come to my house.... doors unlocked...." Jeremy replied, his words barely escaping from his lips. He wasn't even sure Andrew would be able to hear him.<br />
"Dude, what's wrong? Are you okay?" Andrew asked, his voice showing his concern.<br />
"Just... get here... soon.." Jeremy replied, his voice sounding distant, and pained.<br />
"Alright, we're coming. Hold tight buddy." Andrew said, hanging up the phone.<br />
Jeremy felt tired. Tired from the pain, both emotional and physical. He hoped Andrew would get there soon. As much as he hated to have anyone see him like this, he knew he needed help. He fought to stay awake. But there seemed to be no fighting the darkness that was consuming him. Maybe he would just close his eyes, yeah that would help. He laid his head on the cold bathroom floor. His body, still unclothed from the shower he had, who knows how long ago. He could still feel chills of ice, right down to his bones.<br />
His mind flashed with the memories of the letter that Sammy had wrote. Tears began to fill his eyes. She would hate the man he had become. He could see nothing but the look of disappointment on her face. He wished things were different. He wished he was stronger, most of all he wished that he would die along with her. He cringed at that thought. He didn't want to die. His family would be devastated. He couldn't willingly do that to them. Heck, if they even knew what his life was turning into now, they would be destroyed. He had been trying his hardest not to let his Mom, and brother see how self destructive he had become. All they knew, was that he was coping with the loss of his friend and partner. He frowned as he thought about the fact that his friend, Andrew was about to see him at his worst. He would understand though. He, and Dawn were the only ones that would understand. They all saw the same things.<br />
Time seemed to be moving so slowly. How long had it been since he placed the call to Andrew? God, it felt like hours. In the distance he could hear sirens wailing, the sound of a diesel engine crept closer, and closer. Jeremy panicked. Shit, he didn't want the ambulance! He could not let anyone else see him like this! He tried to get up, but was quickly reminded that he couldn't. He heard a knock on his door, followed by Andrew's voice. He listened as his front door opened. The sound of footsteps got louder, and louder as they approached him. Andrew yelled for Jeremy, seeking him out. Jeremy tried to respond, but his voice was weak.Then, all was silent. Andrew was there, standing over him.<br />
"Holy Shit. Dawn, in here I found him!" Andrew shouted. "Buddy, you're going to be alright. We got you."<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px; line-height: 14.399999618530273px;">STAY TUNED FOR "The Downward Spiral- Part 5"</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; line-height: 17.99715805053711px;">Written by: RU- Responders Unite</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; line-height: 17.99715805053711px;">© Responders Unite- Do not remove author's name from material.</span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8195859999678205127.post-60468280487588560402013-11-29T22:33:00.001-05:002014-12-14T08:57:36.499-05:00The Downward Spiral- Part 3 Jeremy's house was quiet. The smell of whisky lingered in the air from the bottle that laid broken on the floor. The same dishes sat in the sink from days before. He knew he had to take care of them, but the motivation to do so was nonexistent. He dropped his keys on the counter, and kicked off his boots. He walked toward his coffee maker, and turned it on. First things first, he needed coffee. Better yet, an Irish coffee. He strode toward his liquor cabinet, and removed a bottle of Bailey's Irish Cream, and poured some into his cup. As he was waiting for the coffee to brew, he strode towards the bathroom. Jeremy decided he would take a quick shower. Maybe that would make him feel a little bit better.<br />
He began emptying his pockets onto the bathroom counter. Pens, change, a pair of unused gloves, then the piece of paper. He threw it on the counter, and proceeded towards the shower. Maybe it was nerves, maybe it was simply fear. There was something about that one piece of paper that scared the lights out of him.<br />
His shower was quick. Instead of soothing, the shower felt torturous. The content of that paper weighed heavily on his mind. With each drop of water that rushed down his body, his anxiety worsened. He reached over to turn off the water, and wrestled open the broken curtain. Grabbing for his towel, he made little effort to dry himself off. With the towel wrapped around his waist he walked toward the paper, and picked it up off of the counter.<br />
Jeremy strode toward his kitchen, where his freshly brewed coffee awaited him. He studied the pot for a moment, then poured it in the glass with the Irish cream. After taking a sip, and being content with it's taste he sat down at his table. He placed the piece of paper down in front of him. With a deep breath he opened it up, his stomach knotting at it's words.<br />
<br />
"<i>I'm sorry. I didn't want things to end this way.</i><br />
<i> I Hope you all can forgive me. I can't stand </i><br />
<i> the pain anymore. I am so tired of seeing </i><br />
<i> people lose the ones they love. It is eating me</i><br />
<i> alive. To my family, I want you to know that</i><br />
<i> I love you all, so very much. There will never</i><br />
<i> be a day that goes by that that I don't think of</i><br />
<i> you all. Please tell Jeremy that I am sorry. Tell</i><br />
<i> him that he was everything to me. He was more </i><br />
<i> than just my partner, he was my best friend. I </i><br />
<i> was truly in love with him, but sometimes pain</i><br />
<i> is stronger than love. Tell Jessie that I am sorry</i><br />
<i> about Maria. Tell her I am sorry I couldn't be </i><br />
<i> the one to tell her, that I </i><i>wasn't there to comfort</i><br />
<i> her. Tell Alexis I will miss her, and that I love her</i><br />
<i> dearly. Make sure she takes care of herself, and </i><br />
<i> make sure she takes care of Jeremy. I really hope all </i><br />
<i> of you can forgive me. I love</i><i> you. This is</i><i> goodbye.</i><br />
<br />
<i> Sammy"</i><br />
<i><br /></i><i><br /></i><i> </i>Jeremy sat there, speechless. Tears flowed down his cheeks, landing in drops on the piece of paper. She loved him too. He couldn't wrap his mind around it. Why didn't he tell her how he felt before it was too late? He waited too long, and now he will never know what could have been.<br />
He re-read the letter over and over again. Maybe she knew how he felt about her, but never told him. And, what did she mean when she told Alexis to take care of him? This was all too much to take in. He remembered telling Alexis yesterday that he would be sure to stop by and visit. He would probably have to stay true to that promise. Sammy would want him to check in on her two younger sisters, and make sure they were okay. Alexis was 19, and finishing up her first year of community college. Jessie was 17, and still in high school finishing up her Junior year. The looks of sadness on their faces at Sammy's funeral was more than he could bear to see.<br />
The pain of the memories was more than he could take. He stood slowly from his seat at the kitchen table. On shaky legs, he walked to the liquor cabinet. He realized that the Irish coffee was no longer strong enough to drown the images flashing through his mind. He reached up for another bottle of whiskey, opened the cap, and took a long drink from the bottle.<br />
The images poured into his head as though he was seeing them for the first time. He was standing outside the door of Sammy's apartment. He reached up, and knocked on her door, but there was no response. He knocked a second time, this time hearing what he thought was a faint whimper. He tried to open the door, but it was locked. Something wasn't right, he knew it. He reached into his pants pocket, and pulled out his phone dialing 911, to request a well being check. He knew if anything they could gain access to her house with force. He waited impatiently at her door, for what seemed like forever before the first wave of responders pulled into her apartment building's lot. As they approached, he recognized the Medics walking toward him, it was Andrew and Dawn accompanied by two police officers. Another car pulled in behind them. It was her landlord, with the key to her apartment. It all happened so fast. The landlord unlocked the door, and before they could enter, Jeremy raced past them trying to seek out Sammy. He heard the shower running, so he cautiously entered her bathroom. "Sammy, are you okay? Sammy it's me, Jeremy." Total silence. He felt a pit in his stomach as he reached for the shower curtain, and opened it.<br />
There she was, her lifeless body laying in the bathtub. She was fully clothed, and her skin was pale. On her left arm, there was a large laceration, and blood stained her clothing. He reached down to check for a pulse, but found nothing. Her body was as cold as the water flowing over her. He reached over and turned off the shower. Behind him emerged Andrew and Dawn, their faces frozen in horror. Jeremy scooped Sammy out of the tub, gently laid her on the floor, and began chest compressions. Soon, he felt a hand on his shoulder urging him away. It was Officer Day, pulling him away from Sammy's lifeless body. Andrew and Dawn moved in quickly, trying their hardest to bring her back. Jeremy watched helplessly as his friends worked on Sammy. Officer Day was speaking to him, but he couldn't comprehend a word he spoke. There was nothing else in that room but Sammy. As Andrew and Dawn whisked her away, Jeremy broke. Falling to his knees, he began to sob. Officer Day, knelt beside him in attempts to comfort him. Any questions he had for Jeremy would have to wait. There was absolutely no way he could answer them. Officer Green emerged from Sammy's bedroom moment's later, and stood next to officer day with a solemn look on her face. Not once did she mention the note that Sammy had left.<br />
Jeremy left her house, and immediately went to the closest bar. He drowned himself in beer and whiskey until the bar closed. At some point Andrew had joined him, but he couldn't remember when. All he knew was, Andrew was the one who brought him home that night. Jeremy never remembered feeling as numb as he did that night. Ever since then, he had been trying to find that same numbness again.<br />
The calling hours, and the funeral came and went. Jeremy remembered the looks on the faces of Sammy's family. He wondered if they blamed him, as much as he blamed himself. The minute he heard her whimper, he should have done all he could to enter her home. But he didn't. She could have made it if he had acted, and not done what was considered the "right" thing. It was all his fault.<br />
Jeremy closed his eyes. The tears had stopped flowing, and slowly his anger with himself started to take over. He took mouthful, after mouthful of whiskey down, hoping it would make him forget. He wanted the images to leave, and stay away. He didn't want to remember. He drank and drank until the bottle was gone.<br />
He stood up, and nearly fell over. He staggered over to his cabinet, and opened it forcefully. When he realized he had no whisky left, he exploded. Everything in the cabinet was pulled out and thrown across his kitchen. He then pushed the coffee maker off the counter, the pot still full of coffee shattering upon impact with the floor. He flipped the table, and tossed the chairs. Still enraged he approached the wall, and as hard as he could he swung at it. As his hand made contact with the drywall, his fist created a large hole. Pain seared through his hand, up into his arm. Jeremy cursed. Gripping his arm, he stumbled toward the sink. Next thing he knew, he lost his balance slipping on the coffee that spilled on the floor. Jeremy fell hard, hitting his head on the arm of one of the overturned chairs. The room spun as pain ripped through his body. Finally the images faded, as he slipped out of consciousness.<br />
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<br />
<br />
STAY TUNED FOR "The Downward Spiral- Part 4"<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; line-height: 17.99715805053711px;">Written by: RU- Responders Unite</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; line-height: 17.99715805053711px;">© Responders Unite- Do not remove author's name from material.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8195859999678205127.post-74165604408415772142013-11-29T17:20:00.001-05:002014-12-14T08:53:18.084-05:00The Downward Spiral- Part 2 Jeremy awoke to the sound of his alarm. Chimes of bells, just loud enough to make his head throb. He took a deep breath in, as if to test his stomach. When he realized he wasn't going to vomit, he slowly moved to sit up in his bed. He couldn't remember when he passed out, all he knew is no matter how much whiskey he drank, it still couldn't numb his pain.<br />
He arose slowly, taking his time getting to his feet. Once upright, the room began to spin. Placing his hand on the wall to hold himself up, he waited for the room to stand still. He took another deep breath, and when he was somewhat certain he wasn't going to fall, he moved forward towards the bathroom. He stopped at the sink, and turned on the water. Giving himself a quick glance in the mirror, he made a subtle sound of disgust. He didn't even recognize himself anymore. He splashed the cool water over his face, and walked toward the shower. As much as he couldn't care less about how he smelled, or looked he couldn't let his coworkers see him this way.<br />
The water was warm. As it washed over his head and face, he closed his eyes enjoying the feel of it's soothing warmth. For a moment, he thought how nice it would be if it could wash away the feelings of guilt, and sadness he had been carrying around for the last two months. Tears threatened to escape from his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He couldn't believe it had been two months since he lost his best friend, Sammy. The pain of it all was still so fresh, that it's wounds still felt only days old. If only he had gotten to her sooner, she would still be here. He couldn't help feeling guilty, as she laid there dying, he was standing just outside of her door. He should have kicked down her door, he should have known something was terribly wrong. His tears began to fall. With a quick swipe of his forearm, the tears were pushed aside. Sadness being replaced by anger. Jeremy quickly turned off the shower. Ripping the shower curtain off the rod, with the strength of his frustration. He got dressed quickly, again refusing to shave. He didn't care. If his boss didn't like his 3-day beard, he could very well kiss his ass. The uniform didn't feel like it used to. There was no pride in it. He dreaded even looking at it.<br />
Sammy was quickly replaced with a new partner. He hated his new partner. She had the personality of a rock, and she reminded him of a lava lamp. Sometimes he was sure her whole purpose in life was to make everyone around her just as miserable as she was. Just what he needed, right? 48 hours a week with Cathy, or "Cunty" as he referred to her. In his eyes, the name suited her well. Just thinking about the next 24 hours with Cathy, made his stomach churn. Oh how he wished one day he would wake up, and realize the past few months were just a horrible dream.<br />
Jeremy strode towards his kitchen. Dishes filled the sink, and bills were piled high on his table. Rings from previous cups of coffee stained his counters. Next to his refrigerator sat a bottle of whiskey. It took everything in him not to grab that bottle, and drown himself in it's taste. He walked toward it, and picked it up. Staring at it for a long while, he felt his rage explode. Jeremy quickly turned around and threw the bottle at his wall, grabbed the keys to his truck and walked out the door. He decided he would get his coffee on the way into work. <br />
Jeremy felt like a robot. His mind was often blank, and he felt as though he was living life just going through the motions. As he parked his truck, his eyes wandered to the spot next to his where Sammy used to park. With a sigh, he removed the keys from the ignition, and strode toward the door of the base.<br />
Andrew met him at the door. His face not nearly as bright and cheerful as it used to be. He wasn't handling the death of Sammy well either. The day she died, Andrew and Dawn were working on the ambulance. Jeremy couldn't imagine they could get the images out of their heads either. Andrew greeted Jeremy with a solemn nod, and placed his hand on Jeremy's shoulder.<br />
"Have another rough night, bud?" Andrew asked<br />
"Not nearly as rough as this shift will be." Jeremy grumbled.<br />
"Oh, come on Cathy is a gem! You are the envy of the station. We all wish we had a chance to work with a walking amoeba!" Andrew smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.<br />
"Nobody should ever get seasick from watching their partner walk." Jeremy said, choking back a grin. He felt as though he shouldn't be allowed to feel happiness, not after everything that happened.<br />
"Well, good luck today. Stay out of trouble. Oh, and buddy be safe."<br />
Jeremy nodded his head, and watched his friend leave. Since that day, even looking at Andrew was hard. Luckily, Dawn usually left before Jeremy got in. Cathy was always early, and Dawn took advantage of being able to sneak out before the end of her shift, to get home before her kids woke up for school. She claimed the 5 minutes alone before the morning chaos of making breakfast, and rushing her kids off to school made her day more bearable. Just as well for him, because just seeing Andrew and Dawn together made his stomach knot. He didn't want to resent them. They had all been friends for years. He knew they did their best to try and save Sammy, but he couldn't help but think they could have done more. It was stupid, and he knew it. He just wasn't ready to admit it.<br />
He didn't know how long he was standing there, lost in his own thoughts. When he looked up he noticed someone walking towards the Ambulance bay door. It was a young woman. Maybe 17 or 18. She was blonde, and very petite. She was holding something in her hand. As she got closer, Jeremy's heart sank. It was Alexis, Sammy's little sister. As she approached, Jeremy released his breath. He didn't even realize until that moment that he had been holding it.<br />
"Hey Jeremy. It's nice to see you. I stopped by yesterday, you weren't here but Andrew told me you would be working today. I hope you don't mind me stopping in."<br />
"Hi Alexis. I don't mind you being here at all. It's nice to see you. How are you doing, kid?" he said softly.<br />
"I'm holding up. I am lucky to be surrounded by a lot of supportive people. It's been a rough couple of months."<br />
"Yeah, I hear you lady." Jeremy replied, looking down towards the floor. For some reason he just couldn't bring it upon himself to look Alexis in the face. She looked so much like Sammy, it was difficult to look at her and hold it together.<br />
"So, hey I have something for you. I thought you would like to see this. It took my mom awhile to let it go, but she agreed that you needed to see it."<br />
Jeremy reached out, and took what was in her hand. It was a piece of paper, and a photo. The photo was of Sammy, and himself in front of the ambulance. It was spring time, and the truck was parked in front of Silver Lake. They were doing a detail for the town beach. It was the annual fishing derby. Her long blonde hair laid over her shoulders, and her blue eyes sparkled. On her right cheek she had a dimple that only appeared when she smiled. Oh, that smile. It could light up the world. He looked like a giant standing next to her. His brown hair, messy from the wind. There was a light in his hazel eyes, that he had not seen since Sammy died. They were both happy. He had lost weight in the past two months. He no longer resembled the physically fit, healthy man that he used to be. Through his thoughts, a voice broke through. Alexis, he forgot she was standing there.<br />
"So, I have to get to school now. It was nice to see you Jeremy. Stop by some time. It would mean a lot to all of us."<br />
"Will do kiddo, and thanks. it was nice seeing you. Take care of yourself." He embraced Alexis in a hug.<br />
Alexis pulled away, and with tears in her eyes. She turned and walked away. Jeremy was left standing there. He tucked the picture in his breast pocket. He figured it would be safe there, for now. He looked at the folded piece of paper in his hands. He was about to open it, when Cathy appeared.<br />
"We have a call. Get in the truck." She said, with attitude.<br />
" Yes, ma'am." he replied while sarcastically saluting her. "Good morning by the way, seems as though you are shitting rainbows and butterflies. So glad you are yet again, in such a happy mood." Cathy didn't reply to his comments, but merely rolled her eyes, and put the truck in drive.<br />
"Do you mind releasing the location of which we are heading to, or is that classified information?" He asked, making sure she knew how much he didn't want to be near her.<br />
"We're heading to 12 main street, for a patient experiencing shortness of breath, happy now?" she replied hastily.<br />
"Not really" He answered. "I won't be happy until 7am tomorrow."<br />
"That makes two of us then." Cathy replied.<br />
The rest of the shift was nice and silent. He didn't mind. Cathy wasn't exactly warm and fuzzy. So, barely exchanging words with her didn't bother him any. Before he knew it, they had done 12 calls. It was midnight, and they were just now getting back to the station. He walked into the crew room, and threw himself onto his bed. He was far too tired to even remove his boots. He was about to close his eyes when he remembered about the small piece of paper folded in his pocket. He didn't know if he wanted to read it now, or not. Curiosity ate at him, but he decided he would wait to read it until he got home the next morning. If it was something bad, he figured he could hold off seeing it until then. For now, he was exhausted and wanted to sleep.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; line-height: 17.99715805053711px;">Written by: RU- Responders Unite</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; line-height: 17.99715805053711px;">© Responders Unite- Do not remove author's name from material.</span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8195859999678205127.post-69954723865711773302013-11-27T20:14:00.001-05:002014-12-14T08:53:49.302-05:00The Downward spiral- Part 1 As Sammy stepped towards the large glass doors, they open upon her approach. With a sigh, she slowly stepped into the cool outdoors. It was morning, and the sun had began rising over the tops of the Trees. The colors were that of a painting. Streaks of orange, pink, and red entwined together forming one of the most beautiful sights she had seen in a long time. Sammy lifted her face as a light breeze swept across her cheek, filling her nose with the scent of morning dew and flowers. As she sat there taking in the beauty of the moment, she couldn't help but wonder, how could something so beautiful follow an event as dreadful as the motor vehicle accident she was just on scene of? With each chirp of a bird, her mind began to spin with the images of the mutilation she had just witnessed.<br />
Each passing moment, her emotional walls began to crumble. The steel shutters opened, and her emotions began to consume her. In the distance, she could see a family walking towards the hospital. The scared frightened looks on their faces, mixed with uncertainty, and hope ate away at her soul. Under her breath she cursed herself over the thought of wanting to leave in a hurry, as to not see the look of devastation on their faces when the doctor broke the news of the death of this families cherished daughter/sister. To see the hope leave their eyes would be torture to witness. She wondered how the hospital staff could stand to deliver such news.<br />
She turned around as she heard the glass doors open behind her. It was Jeremy, her partner. He walked quickly out of the emergency department. She wondered if he saw the family, and wanted to avoid their pain too. He approached her, and with a pat on the shoulder he urged her forward toward the waiting ambulance. As she took her place in passenger seat, Jeremy hopped behind the wheel, and grabbed the radio to clear up their unit. As they pulled away, Sammy let out a sigh of relief knowing she was spared once again from the look of anguish soon to be plastered on the faces of those who loved this victim.<br />
"Hey, Sammy. Do you want coffee? I could use some right about now" asked Jeremy.<br />
"Sure, but I don't think there is enough coffee in the world to cure me today."<br />
"I'm buying. My treat this time. You can spoil me next week." He chuckled, but the look of concern on his face was apparent. He knew the call was weighing heavily on his partner, and wished that his light humor would somehow bring a smile to the darkened expression on her face.<br />
They got their coffees in silence. Neither of them knowing what to say to each other. Jeremy wished there was something he could do to make his partner feel better, but sometimes coming to terms with such an event just took time. He respected his partner. Sammy was intelligent, and he didn't think there was a better paramedic than her anywhere else in the world. Every time they worked together, he learned something new. Over the years, they had become more than just partners. They were best friends. There wasn't a day that went by that they didn't talk. Although he never spoke the words, he knew that he loved her. No, he wouldn't ever tell her. He could not risk the friendship they shared. It meant too much to him.<br />
They reached their base, just in time to see their relief crew walking in. It was time to change shifts, and Sammy couldn't stomach the thought of answering 20 questions about the night they had. Once the truck was parked, she slipped out of the passenger seat, and quickly walked into the crew room to gather her belongings. With a short greeting to the oncoming crew, she brushed past them and headed to her vehicle.<br />
"Rough night?" Andrew asked<br />
" You can say that, a 17 year old girl killed herself by driving 90 mph into a tree" Jeremy replied, his eyes fixed on Sammy. "I'll be right back, bro. I need to make sure Sammy is alright."<br />
"Do what you got to do, bud. Just no necking! I don't need to puke this early in the morning." Andrew said, with a smirk on his face.<br />
Jeremy didn't even wait for Andrew to finish his sentence before he took off jogging after Sammy. Before Sammy could close her car door, Jeremy was standing next to her. He gave her a soft look, and tugged on her arm. She got out of the car, and looked at him with tears in her eyes.<br />
"That girl, she was my sister's best friend. I've known her family since I was 8 years old. My sister is going to be devastated. What is worse, I can't even be the one to tell her. I can't even tell her I was there." She began to sob. Jeremy embraced her in his arms, holding her tightly. He gave her a gentle kiss on her forehead, and then pulled her away from him. Looking her in the eyes, he wiped a tear from her cheek.<br />
"You know Sammy, I am here for you. We are all here for you. If you need anything at all I am just a phone call away. Just promise me, if you feel like you can't handle it please don't hesitate to ask for help."<br />
"I know, and I appreciate it." She replied, still sobbing. "But I really need to go home now. I just need to be alone."<br />
"I get it, just remember I am here. okay?"<br />
"I know." She stated, as she slipped back into her vehicle, turned over the engine and began to drive away.<br />
Jeremy walked back toward the base where Andrew awaited him. "Yeah, she's a wreck. Was a family friend that died." Jeremy said.<br />
"Dude, that sucks. She going to be okay?"<br />
"I sure hope so." Jeremy replied, but even he wasn't convinced that was the truth. "Listen bro, it's been a rough night. I need to hit the sheets. I'll catch up with you and Dawn later, okay?"<br />
"Sounds good, brother. Go get your beauty sleep. You look like shit." Andrew replied<br />
Jeremy grinned. Andrew was always making sarcastic comments. You could always count on him to make you laugh, whether you liked it or not. "I may look like shit, but I at least have an excuse, unlike you. You look like shit everyday. We just don't tell you because we don't want to make our precious wallflower cry."<br />
"Bitch please, I am prime real estate! Andrew replied, laughing. "Alright dude, go before you start breaking faces. I will catch you later."<br />
"Have a quiet shift!" Jeremy shouted while walking away.<br />
"Fuck you, dude! You will pay for that!" Andrew replied.<br />
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Blood was everywhere. What was once a car, laid still against a large tree. The front end was pushed into the passenger compartment, and the smell of smoke filled the air. To the left of the tree, was what looked like a shadow of a person. As she approached the scene, the vision became more clear. The windshield of what was once a Pontiac Sunfire, was smashed, revealing a hole just big enough for a small person to fit through. The driver, a small female lay motionless in front of her. It was doubtful that this person survived such an impact. She reached down to check for a pulse. What she found was faint, and thready. With a look of surprise, she yelled to her partner to hurry up with the rest of the equipment. After applying a cervical collar, her and her partner prepared to roll the victim onto her back, to be secured to the long spine board. Faintly in the background she could hear the police on scene discussing a note they found taped to the dashboard of the vehicle. It was a suicide note. This girl was trying to take her own life. With a count of three they rolled the girl over. Her face wash covered in blood. Her hair was clumped together, and matted. The blood around her acting as glue, holding onto debris and broken glass. She began to secure the girls airway, when her partner announced that the girls heart stopped beating. They began CPR, and with assistance from the fire department moved the victim to the idling ambulance. In the light, what she saw horrified her. The victim, she knew her. This girl was Maria Haynes, her sister Jessie's best friend. She fought off the urge to vomit. "just breathe, Sammy." she told herself. It took everything in her to not fall apart. That's when the phone rang.<br />
Sammy awoke, barely able to catch her breath. The tears fell freely, just as they had for the past 3 days straight. Every time she closed her eyes the same scene played out over and over. Her family, and Jeremy were starting to worry. They all had been calling her non-stop for days. She knew her sister was hurting over the loss of her long time friend, but Sammy couldn't bring herself to face her. She could not stand to see or feel any more sadness. Her own was consuming her life enough. She reached over to look at her phone. Just as she suspected, it was her mom calling. There were missed messages as well, but she couldn't bring herself to read them. She knew who the messages were from, but she couldn't talk to Jeremy right now either. She thought deeply for a moment, and decided she would rather die than face more sorrow.<br />
Sammy stood up, stared out the window at the sun sitting over the trees. What time was it? Hell, she didn't care. She strode over to her desk, grabbed a pen and jotted something down quickly, folded the piece of paper and tossed it onto her bed. She strode towards her bathroom. Grabbing a razor blade out of her drawer. It reminded her of her past, when the pain from the cut of a razor blade was all that made her feel alive. She turned on her shower and climbed inside, sitting herself on the floor of the tub, still dressed. With a deep breath she dragged the blade down her wrist, severing her radial artery. The sting of the wound meeting the drops of water brought tears to her eyes. Was she doing the right thing? Gradually she grew weaker and weaker. The pain of her life slowly fading away. Blood flowed quickly, but just as it appeared it was washed away by the falling water. Faintly in the distance Sammy heard a knock on her door, she started to panic, and regret set in, but it was too late. The world went dark.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; line-height: 17.99715805053711px;">Written by: RU- Responders Unite</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; line-height: 17.99715805053711px;">© Responders Unite- Do not remove author's name from material.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8195859999678205127.post-75497257718748400772013-11-03T11:38:00.000-05:002013-11-03T11:38:30.675-05:00I see you in my dreamsSometimes, I see you in my dreams. Your face, lifeless and distant. Your body, which was full of life and dreams, taken by a bad decision. Your parents don't know what comes of you, yet. With alcohol on your breath, we rush to save you. 30 minutes goes by, and we are finally able to free your mangled body from the wreckage of a vehicle that was moving too fast. Your blood is all around you. You are just 17 years old. We try our best to bring you back, even though we know efforts are going to be wasted. You are too far gone. I see you in my dreams. I think of the life you could have had. I see you, in the future with a baby. I see your smile. It breaks my heart to know, that is a life you will never see. I still see you in my dreams.<br />
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At night, I cry for you. I cry for your friends, I cry for your family. I thank god they did not have to see you the way I did. I still see it in my dreams. Coworkers say to let it go, that it's just another call. They say if you can't handle it to leave this profession, but I can't. Even though I see you in my dreams, I still carry on. I move to the next life, the next mistake, and I see them in my dreams. Although I may cry for you, I know that your family can rest assured all efforts were made to get you back. They can take solace in the fact that, even though it may have been too late, their baby got the best care they could on the dark winding road, late at night. I gave you my all, and sometimes it's not enough. I see you in my dreams. Your face reminds me of why I do, what I do. It's not for the guts, it's not for the glory. It is so families know, every effort was taken when their family needed it most. Sometimes we win the battle, sometimes we lose. That is a fate that we learn to cope with. Even though I see you in my dreams, I am reminded of how quickly life can change. Because of you, I hold my own children closer. I appreciate life, I appreciate every minute, and I don't take my own children for granted. All because I see you in my dreams. You have given my life meaning. I only wish yours wasn't cut so short. While you rest with the angels, and smile upon your family. I will forever see you in my dreams.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8195859999678205127.post-76930062261364054572013-11-02T23:26:00.000-04:002013-11-02T23:26:41.528-04:00For Non-providersWhen you see me, you think of an ambulance. You see me driving this ambulance, maybe to a home or possibly the hospital. You never imagine the work that I do. You can't see the fear, the sadness, or the hard work I put into each life I am entrusted with. Most of all, you don't see the danger I face, or the life changing events that I am called upon to deal with not only professionally, but skillfully. You do not see the pain of many tragedies haunting my dreams, sometimes consuming my thoughts.<br />
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We as EMS providers see what everyone else in the world is blissfully ignorant to. Death, destruction, sickness, violence, people who's lives are too much to take. We talk the suicidal person from jumping off the ledge, but sometimes they jump anyway. We face battles with every call. Some battles are large, some are minor. I would like to give you insight to some of what we deal with.<br />
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When we get a call, it may not be immediately life threatening. Sometimes, an elderly patient falls onto the floor, and needs us to assist them to their feet. Sometimes, they don't get found for hours, or even days. They sit in their own filth, and slowly fade away. Some we can save, sometimes we are too late.<br />
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We get called to the home of a child who decided the harassment they receive at school is too much to bare. They take their father's beta blockers, in attempts to kill themselves. Sometimes they succeed, sometimes we make it in time. Either way, a child in pain always tears at the heart strings.<br />
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That morbidly obese neighbor of yours is having a heart attack. We arrive, get him out of his house, into the ambulance, and to the hospital to receive the care he needs. Size never matters when it comes to a life. We do our best, sometimes injuring ourselves to ensure everyone gets the care they need.<br />
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We rush to the scene of a car accident, two teens trapped. One dies immediately upon impact, the other has a pulse until we pull him out. Our arms and back burn from an hour straight of CPR, just to learn he didn't make it either. These kids chose to drink and drive, and we will remember them forever.<br />
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The images we see, the hurt we feel, the pain we witness slowly eats away at our souls. We do our best to tuck it back, and move forward. Sometimes, we end up suffering too. We do more than drive that ambulance. We put our hearts into your care. So, the next time you see an ambulance, think of how much we really do, and thank God you are not the one who needs us.-RUUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8195859999678205127.post-18090442123862202572013-11-02T18:04:00.000-04:002013-11-02T18:04:25.223-04:00The Headache CallYou are sitting in your living room, you are watching your favorite TV show, enjoying a beer, and having a nice relaxing evening at home before beginning a new work week in the morning. All of a sudden, you feel a sharp pain in your head. This pain is like no other. It is excruciatingly sharp, and it brings on a sudden photophobia, auras, and blurred vision. You have never had a headache this severe, and this sudden ever in your life. You are scared. What if this is more than a migraine? What if I could die from this?<br />
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So you call 911.</div>
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EMS is in quarters, also enjoying some down time. The tones drop, and they roll their eyes at the chief complaint. They mock your emergency from the minute the calls come in. Laughing and joking around, they halfheartedly respond to your emergency. Upon arrival, they slowly gather their first in bag, and that's it. They figure they can walk you to their stretcher. They knock on your door, but you can't answer it. You are now laying unresponsive on the floor. They gain access and find you. You are unconscious. Your breathing is shallow, and your heart rate is fast and thready. They quickly change modes, realizing that they were terribly wrong. This wasn't a fake emergency at all, and they left themselves unprepared for what they found, a really sick patient that needed rapid transport. One medic runs to the truck while the other medic begins asses you. Your breath smells of beer. The medic assumes you drank too much and passed out. But, you were only on your second beer. As the second medic returns, they discuss your alcohol consumption, missing the fact that one of your pupils are blown. You are hemorrhaging in your brain. They scoop you out to the stretcher, and load you in. They throw you on a 4 lead, start an IV and give you a fluid bolus, and start their way to the hospital. En route, you code. There was so much blood in your brain, that you no longer could hold on. The medic frantically begins CPR, and yells up to his partner, who is currently driving. In the end, you die. There was nothing that could save you. Subarachnoid hemorrhages can be lethal, quickly.</div>
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The moral of this story is not to prove that the actions of the crew killed the patient, because ultimately the patient was likely to die whether the medics took the call seriously or not. The moral of the story is, sometimes things are more than they appear to be. A simple headache call could lead to many outcomes. </div>
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The patient that fell 5 days ago, and is now experiencing a headache, could have a slow bleed which is now to the point of possibly becoming fatal. The AMS that resulted from a headache x3 weeks, could really be a tumor effecting their mental status. The child in and out of consciousness presenting like an accidental overdose, who complained of a severe headache earlier that morning, and went seeking tylenol could have a ruptured aneurysm. </div>
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The truth is, we all have those moments where we roll our eyes at a chief complaint. Whether it is a "real" emergency or not, is not for us to determine. We do our jobs. We go where people need us. We act proficiently, and effectively, and we move on. Never should we drop our guard because we feel that a patient is unworthy of our presence. Our job is to be there regardless. Remember this story. Remember that things can change in the blink of an eye. Work to your fullest potential, every call, with every patient. The ones you brush off, just may cost you your job. </div>
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Take care of your neighbors kids, their lives may depend on it!</div>
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RU</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8195859999678205127.post-64821071403359302752013-10-22T20:14:00.001-04:002013-10-22T20:53:54.203-04:00How do you do what you do?As I sit in quarters, my mind is set on that taco I got, that I have been craving for weeks. It looks delicious, and I can't wait to take my first bite. Just as I raise this glorious meat filled relic to my mouth, I hear our tones. Without thought, the tacos is tossed aside, it will be there when I get back.<br />
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The call is for a child, who fell off of a rock ledge while hiking with her dad. It will take our unit, and many firefighters to locate this girl. Once we do, that is when we do what we do best. We get them out, and do so by using our training, and knowledge.<br />
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She is about 75ft down a ledge, she is not responding to our shouts. The fire department readies the rope equipment and we begin our decent. Trailing behind us is our equipment nicely tucked into the stokes basket. We reach our patient. She is unconscious, and barely holding onto life. Her pulse is weak, and we will need to assist respirations. We make the decision to activate the medical helicopter, because once she is freed from this rocky tomb, she will need transport quickly. The collar is applied and with extreme care, we roll her onto an awaiting backboard. There are noticeable extremity fractures, a depression fracture on the base of her skull, as well as many actively bleeding wounds. We patch and secure what is in need of immediate attention, and get her ready for the steep climb up the rock's edge.<br />
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Carefully, we begin our climb. EMS and fire working as one team to bring this victim to the top of the ledge. We pray that our training, and our equipment won't fail us. With that fear pushed behind, we rally to get this girl, and ourselves safely to the top. Her father, anxiously awaits, with worry. We reach the top. Dad rushes to his daughter's side. We quickly explain that we need to get moving, and that time is not on our side. The father asks to help carry her through the deep woods. To satisfy his need to help, we allow him to grab a corner. Each step we take we rattle this girl, this fragile lifeless child, who just 45 minutes ago was enjoying a day with her daddy.<br />
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She loses pulses. Everyone stops in their tracks. The stokes basket gets placed onto the leaf covered path, and we all get to work. I begin compressions, my partner attaches the defib pads. all movement stops as we analyze this girls heart rhythm. She is in V-tach. We clear everyone around us and deliver a shock, praying that it doesn't send her into asystole. The shock is delivered and CPR is continued. The medic, with skilled hands places an advanced airway, and begins to control her every breath. After administering life saving epinepherine, through the IV that was established we check her again. Sinus Brady. We quickly check her pulses, and with a look of amazement, and relief she has regained them. We decide it's time to boogie. We start off again toward our ambulance. We make it. The ride to the awaiting helicopter is only minutes away. We load, and we go as quickly as possible. We arrive at the awaiting helicopter, give our report and then they are off. As we watch them leave, we secretly wonder if this one will survive. If we got to her in time. These words we do not speak, we keep them to ourselves.<br />
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I return to my taco. By that time, much like myself it is cold. I shrug as I take a bite. Something is better than nothing. I finish my lunch, just in time for the next call to come in. Elderly person, possible infection, and away we go.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYYrkfOQ2F7wEji5RIOesBIFCBwBz8dhQq5wGhyphenhyphenFUtbfTOw57zBBw0ZUcCE3BFziXkZRmOipOhs0Hq6wQOuakeVKYSzTcXlMiUBkO-SJ7wzOhMesu08fRQSrwIyLja_tqAWebl1UNqXaw/s1600/itsacalling+shirt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="197" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYYrkfOQ2F7wEji5RIOesBIFCBwBz8dhQq5wGhyphenhyphenFUtbfTOw57zBBw0ZUcCE3BFziXkZRmOipOhs0Hq6wQOuakeVKYSzTcXlMiUBkO-SJ7wzOhMesu08fRQSrwIyLja_tqAWebl1UNqXaw/s320/itsacalling+shirt.jpg" width="320" /></a>Months pass, sometimes we talk about the girl from the rocks, wondering if she is doing well, or if she succumbed to her injuries. We hear a knock on the door. I sluggishly walk towards the door, and open it up. To my surprise, there stands a man, beside him is a girl in a wheel chair. She smiles at me. It takes me a second to remember their faces. I stand there wide mouthed, and in disbelief. I quickly yell to my partner, to come here, quickly! The father tells us that she spent 3 weeks intubated, in intensive care. She had multiple surgeries to repair injuries , and to help reduce intracranial pressure. When she awoke, she had minor brain deficits, and sustained a spinal fracture that left her with little feeling in her legs. He explained that the physical therapist is hopeful that in time, and with hard work, this girl would be able to walk again. That was such great news! We talked for a small amount of time. We wished them well, and told the girl to come back to us and visit. Maybe next time she would be able to walk to the door. Then they were gone.<br />
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People ask us why we do what we do. This is my answer. Not every person can be saved, not every call is life or death. But sometimes, there is a time when we truly make a difference in someone's life. When the decisions we make, in mere seconds save their lives. All of the sadness we go through, all of the danger we walk into, is made worth it just by seeing the a smile on the face of a little girl that, when you saw her last was barely hanging onto life. That is what makes what we do bearable. That is what makes it all worth it. That is why I do what I do. That is ultimately why I love my job.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8195859999678205127.post-81536617733006289802013-10-20T09:13:00.000-04:002013-10-20T09:13:41.446-04:00Your Bad Decisions There I am, walking into the ICU. I chuckle slightly because I just then notice my choice of sweatshirt for the morning. It has a picture of the grim reaper on it, and the words read "natural selection intervention specialist." Not an appropriate sweatshirt to be wearing into an intensive care unit. I laugh some more. I guess I should have taken it off before I walked into the unit. I start towards the desk, remove my sweatshirt, fold it up, and put it on the desk. When I looked up, that is when I noticed you.<br />
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Your face, it was young. You were intubated, and your pressure was barely holding. Nurses surrounded you, like worker bees trying to satisfy their queen. Physician assistants, cardio-thoracic surgeons, and trauma attendings walked in and out of your room. Each face upon leaving had a look of worry, and little faith. You are just merely 26 years old, with a bullet wound to the chest. You had 3 chest tubes, and massive tears to your subclavian artery. One of your 3 chest tubes was pushing out 400cc of pure blood every hour. You have already had 12 units of blood, and just as many units of platelets. All of a sudden, they decide you need to go back into surgery. You are bleeding out again. Operating room is prepped, and off you go for round 2.<br />
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I sit there as I watch you leave. My mind surrounds the bad decisions you have made. The gang you decided to join. I thought how every unit of blood this young man received, was the product of a human being, who selflessly donated their own to save someone else. Did they ever think they would be saving a gang member? Do you think they would have changed their mind about donating if they could see into the future, and what they were giving their blood for? The sad reality is, if this man pulls through, and survives being shot in the chest, either he will be hunted down again until the job is finished, or he will flaunt his scars as a symbol of how tough he is. How many men involved in gangs really see being shot as a wake up call? Not many.<br />
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This man had no visitors until after he was out of surgery. His family didn't seem too upset at his critical state. I know if it were my child, I would be weeping. I would be furious, and I would not leave their side. They seemed numb, prepared, and worst of all, used to this scenario.<br />
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I wish, someday some of these gang members would see the bigger picture. The picture of how their poor life choices effects more than just them. Their choices numb their families. They hurt others, and ruin others families. Then when incidents such as this happen, police, fire, and EMS run to their aid. They work tirelessly to keep you alive until they reach the emergency room. From there nurses, techs, doctors, respiratory therapists, surgeons, and many more medical professionals rush to your side. ultimately delaying care to the other people waiting in the ER, because you are now the sickest patient they have, next in line is the patient having a heart attack. They work tirelessly to get you stable enough to sit through what could be hours upon hours of surgery. Then the surgeons turn you over to the intensive care unit, where one nurse provides non stop care to you. hanging units of blood, saline, medications, antibiotics, and platelets. All in hopes to keep you alive. The other nurses have to pick up more patients, and they have to start denying other patients, because there are not enough nurses for more. All because one nurse is working one on one with you. There will be nurses daily watching you like a hawk, working hard to keep you stable, to talk to your family, and to make sure nobody gets into your room that does not belong there. All to keep you safe and alive.<br />
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I saw you, and you broke my heart. I know when you wake up, you won't think of what it took to get you to that point. You won't think of how many people secretly cried for you. You will be in a hurry to seek revenge. You will be thinking about getting out of there. You probably won't think of how many nurses where scared for their lives. Each person preparing for someone to come in with a gun, and finish what they started.<br />
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This is a true testament as to how your actions effect others. Where as you think only your life is effected, you don't realize there is always a ripple in the water of life. There is always a bigger picture. The many lives that come together to help save yours. The people who give their own blood, which is now running through your veins, keeping you alive. So many that look at you, and cry inside because they know, a different life choice could have prevented this.<br />
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I hope this event changes this man's life for the better. I hope he wakes up and goes, you know what I need to stop living like this. I hope his family supports him, and I hope he goes on and makes a difference in others lives. Good luck to you, and may you live to see another day.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8195859999678205127.post-31792644206565325952013-10-13T18:29:00.000-04:002013-10-13T18:50:45.099-04:00Observations from the ER<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaiZWMgX95vmDSfHtA6SWwa3b9OvVTBMddk2J8O4dI_R1WrrxWdnRpTQK2qcXe-_l7R-b3LhCgKMWBGrxAq3PBZ6FYsBZrHEFKmECIfYz9QGkA0AsAG5Ch2fm0wkq2Zvnk02r8KAXvXtQ/s1600/ble-paw-prints-hi.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="96" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaiZWMgX95vmDSfHtA6SWwa3b9OvVTBMddk2J8O4dI_R1WrrxWdnRpTQK2qcXe-_l7R-b3LhCgKMWBGrxAq3PBZ6FYsBZrHEFKmECIfYz9QGkA0AsAG5Ch2fm0wkq2Zvnk02r8KAXvXtQ/s320/ble-paw-prints-hi.png" width="320" /></a> For the first time since I started my career in EMS, I have seen a part of us that has made me realize why we are often not taken seriously. This is hard for me to admit, because I have frequently been an offender of some of the things I have noticed over the past month, and am utterly ashamed of myself.<br />
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While doing my time in the ER, I have had time to watch many crews walk into the ER with patients. In this time, I noticed the reactions of the nurses with each crew that walked in. Sometimes i'd notice an eye roll, other times nurses were truly paying attention. The most alarming thing I have observed is how absurd some of us look.<br />
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Now, don't get me wrong here. I am not out to bash anyone, but I figured I would offer some collective insight on what I have observed, and offer a solution on how to fix it. The first thing I noticed was people acting inappropriately. On more than a couple of occasions, I witnessed people yelling across the ER to people. I am not talking, a "HEY WE NEED HELP!" kind of yelling either. I understand when you frequent certain facilities, you begin to form a working relationship with the staff, but yelling to them, often times with inappropriate remarks makes us look unprofessional. One person yelled something demeaning to a hospital security guard, who in turn looked at me and goes "is she really as nuts as I think she is? she keeps getting me in trouble." Believe me, I know this incident was meant in a playful manor, but we also need to keep in mind we are in an area with many sick patients, people don't want to listen to you yell. I have a big mouth myself, and probably have said things too loud once or twice, but after witnessing this I know I will change that.<br />
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The second thing I notice was how horribly dressed people were. There were crews who came in with uniforms half tucked in, patches bleached one too many times, and looking like they forgot what a hair brush and razor is. How can we expect anyone to look at us, and take what we have to say seriously when we don't take personal appearance seriously? I know I have walked in, shirt un-tucked, looking like fresh dog crap, and again now see why uniform, and personal upkeep is important.<br />
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The last thing I noticed was carelessness. One day someone had put a C-collar on a tiny little old lady. Now, this C-collar was WAY too big, and went up to her nose. Kind of makes that crew look like idiots. The very next day, a crew brings in a patient on a backboard, who besides having skin tears, was stable. This patient was not flat on the board (nothing was stopping him from lying flat), had a buckle wretched down so tight, it left a perfect imprint on his bare thigh, and had a bandage on his arm that was so tight, it effectively could have been used to stop an arterial bleed, which was not the intended purpose. I understand in truly urgent situations, forgetting to be mindful of patient comfort, but if there is no immediate life threatening ailment, please use caution while treating. This is something I always have made sure to do. I never forgot to pad a patient's back on a board, I go out of my way to ensure comfort. Why? Because sometimes all we can do is be comforting to a patient. We don't always have a quick fix. The patient will always remember that you cared enough to make them as comfortable as you could.<br />
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In order to be taken seriously, we need to me mindful of how we look and act. What is keeping us back is nobody's fault but our own. Save the dark humor for in the rig on the way back from the call, or at the station where there is no need for putting on the "Serious suit." If we act professionally, we will be seen as professionals. Teaching a non-verbal psych patient to "meow" at the top of their lungs with probably not score you many brownie points with the ER attending (True story).<br />
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I hope this perspective made sense, and you see what I very plainly saw. Be professional folks!<br />
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RU-Responders UniteUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8195859999678205127.post-38090727813079863712013-09-03T10:53:00.001-04:002013-09-03T10:58:22.732-04:00Are we wired differently? Have you ever wondered if there was a reason behind you becoming a responder? What it is that pulled you in the direction that you are currently in? Was it by accident? Was it a family legacy? Is it genetically wired into you? Does the need to help run through your blood? I know some people feel like it is a calling, some feel that calling only happened because their fathers or mothers were in the emergency service, and that is just where they happened to land themselves. Can we even explain our decision as to why we decided to do what we do?<br />
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I think that our personalities play a big role. Have you ever noticed that you have a tendency to always want to help? Whether it be by listening to someone, or going out of your way to make sure those around you are okay. We generally can't help who we are. People flock to us long before we ever make the decision to become a first responder. Growing up, you were the person that people came to, to talk about their problems. For some reason, you always felt that you could help them, and truthfully you really wanted to. I know I was always trusted because I kept things private. If someone confided in me, I never talked about it with anyone other than them. I not only carried my own problems, but I was willing to take on their problems as well. I fought for those who mattered to me, just so they could have an easier life.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7lUvwKBVsQU_zpK3HwuNKrn22abMIW5cpHyemSbyJIUzLTQZhSLe2noJ5Z_9k9d1YbDu4qmStgFK6hd-WPHw32vAB5Jitq5z6uI18TQlqC5fxPA2C1rSv8MOuCg-ZdpgDb6hihPx6NAQ/s1600/1aid_flail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7lUvwKBVsQU_zpK3HwuNKrn22abMIW5cpHyemSbyJIUzLTQZhSLe2noJ5Z_9k9d1YbDu4qmStgFK6hd-WPHw32vAB5Jitq5z6uI18TQlqC5fxPA2C1rSv8MOuCg-ZdpgDb6hihPx6NAQ/s1600/1aid_flail.jpg" /></a> I can't say that all of you had similar experiences as me, all I know is that these childhood traits are still carried with me to this day. When people confide in me I feel as though it is my duty to keep it under wraps unless told otherwise. I tend to even keep others secrets from my husband, which drives him absolutely crazy. I am just a firm believer in specific conversations being personal, and confidential. I believe the "pull" we feel towards public service has a lot to do with the need to help others.<br />
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Over time, we lose sight of our need to help, but the pull is still very much there. Many have left the field for various reasons, but I bet they are still, in their hearts the type of person who always tries to help. I've heard of people burning out, leaving their field, then many months later wishing they hadn't because they miss the job.<br />
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It does take a special kind of person to do what we do. I firmly believe the decision is made long before we make the conscious choice. Whether it be any field of helping, the pull is there it just may come in different variants. Those who need to protect others end up in the military or law enforcement. The never ending pull to care for others on a deeper level leads some to become Doctors or nurses. The need to help others, care for them, to listen to them, along with the need to feel adrenaline pump through your veins, those become firefighters and EMTs.<br />
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It is in our blood, our personality makes it possible to do the unthinkable, at all costs. This is just my opinion. There are no scientific facts to back my theory, it is simply how I explain the pull I have felt as a responder.<br />
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How would you explain your experience?<br />
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RU-Responders UniteUnknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8195859999678205127.post-2029251251754947182013-08-28T00:45:00.003-04:002013-08-28T00:49:41.548-04:00Never forget....Remember your first day as an EMT? That first time you put on that uniform that made you feel like something amazing. A part of something bigger. Remember the pride you felt walking into the bay, seeing the ambulance you were soon to be riding on? Remember the fear? Remember feeling anxious? You were about to enter a new world, a world that is unpredictable, and possibly dangerous. You were afraid that you didn't know enough, that you wouldn't be able to put what you learned to use. You hoped that when you began working, that your fears would calm, and you would finally be able to make a difference in someone's life. You would finally get to be there when someone needs help. Now, imagine how you would feel if all of those thoughts and feelings were squashed in an instant, all because someone "Hates new people."<br />
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I can not tell you how often I hear EMTs whine and complain about the new people. I have even seen an EMT of 6 months complain about the new kid on the block. Really? Now, complaining is one thing but some of these adult sized babies even go as far as plotting ways to make a new EMT's first days on the job miserable. Have you forgotten the fact that you were new once? Have you forgotten at some point you were the fumbling idiot of a new person who didn't know how to operate the stretcher, and didn't know how to properly use a stair chair. Do you remember being unsteady when it came to taking vital signs? We at some point were all in those shoes, and while we walked in them we looked to those with experience for guidance. I have watched new EMTs get chased out of a company because they were "stupid." Now here is the better question, did anyone take the time to properly teach them? How can one be so asinine to the point of driving out new blood, or breaking them down to the point of no return. Some give up and leave, others take the crap, find their groove, and become an amazing asset to the EMS team. My thing is, someone took the time to teach me, why not in return pass on the knowledge to someone just entering into the field. You appreciated the wisdom of others, give them the chance to appreciate you.<br />
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Lately it seems that EMT-B programs focus on how to get their students to pass the required tests. These students bust their butts to memorize sequences of rehearsed lines for practicals, and try to retain the information required for the written test. Not much time is spent on listening to lung sounds, taking a manual blood pressure, or even how to operate every day equipment that sits on an ambulance that is NOT part of the state practical tests. EMTs are coming out of school moderately unprepared. Is this their fault? Absolutely not. Did they ask to be taught the bare minimum to receive the "YAY YOU PASSED" certification? No. Absolutely not. What does this mean for you, as experienced providers? It means that you have to work a little bit harder to transform this "Testing-robot" into a respectable knowledgeable provider. Now, how do you do that? You take the time to show them the ropes, and be prepared to have to show them more than once. It takes time to learn properly, getting the hang of things isn't an instant happening. Also, never fault someone for a "stupid question." Really, there are no dumb questions, and if someone is asking them, it is because they WANT TO learn! Why deny them that opportunity, even if the question is "Are the blue needles for boys and the pink ones for girls?" It may sound silly to you, because you KNOW the gauge sizes, but for someone who was never taught, how the heck are they supposed to know? Be respectful of their questions, chances are you probably asked quite a few "dumb ones" in your day.<br />
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This job is a field of flowers, that never stops blooming. As new providers come in, the old providers are withering away, along with their knowledge. If we don't pass on what we know, our tricks, and our advice, it will all be lost. A lot of the tasks I successfully perform daily are a wide mix of tactics utilized by the many providers I have worked with other the years. I learned what works well for me, as well as what works well for others. And some day, a new person will teach me a different way that works just as well. We never stop learning. Ever.<br />
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The point of this post is to point out that we as older providers tend to lose sight of the fact that at one point, we were in those shaky brand new boots. If you don't provide a learning environment, the person you are shunning may some day become an untrustworthy partner to you. At that point, the only person to blame will be yourself. New EMS providers are impressionable. Use that to mold them into something great!<br />
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Stay humble my friends, and NEVER forget where you came from.<br />
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RU-Responders Unite<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8195859999678205127.post-49643504629055768132013-08-22T21:00:00.000-04:002013-08-22T21:49:24.832-04:00Every day is a new lesson When we go through school to become an EMT, we try to mentally prepare ourselves for the things we will see. Often times, we think the job will be all guts and glory, and saving every life we encounter. We don't always prepare ourselves for the ultimate let down. Not everybody lives. Not every call we receive will be a positive outcome, and not every patient will appreciate us being there. A lot of us get tired, angry, and depressed because, nobody prepared us for the let downs.<br />
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To me, each day is a lesson. Sometimes it takes some extra searching, but the lesson is indeed there. Each patient we encounter is a different experience. Not one person is the same. Some people teach by disease, some by actions, others by stories. No calls will ever go the same way, and there is no telling what your next call will be.<br />
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I can think of many calls that taught me lessons that I will in fact never forget. Some range from my first loss of life, to my first STEMI, which presented as left ear pain and dizziness. Other lessons I learned came from long, 1 to 2 hour transfers with our nation's veterans, the ones the world forgets about.<br />
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My first death was a friend of mine. I did not know it at the time, but that call alone taught me a lot about what my job is about. I entered that scene nervous and scared out of my mind. Once I realized I knew the victim, I was surprised about how well I could handle it. That was until the call was done. I dreamed of that call for weeks. I envisioned the scene, the mangled car, his lifeless body, the CPR. To this day I can still visualize where his apparent injuries were. I learned that I was not invincible. I learned how much this job could really get to someone. I needed to talk to someone, and I chose to call the one person I knew of in the medical field, the one that would know what I was going through, and that was my aunt. As time went on the memory disappeared but the lesson I learned will forever be with me. I am not superhuman.<br />
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The second call that always stuck with me was a 41 year old male patient. We got called to a doctors office for the patient experiencing dizziness. We arrive on scene, thinking this call was probably nothing. We made patient contact. I start my evaluation. The patient presents as pale, and slightly diaphoretic. I ask the patient what seems to be the problem, and he replies to me with "I was fueling up my car, I got light headed and almost passed out, I have been dizzy ever since. I also have this weird pain in my left ear that just will not go away." I didn't know why, but my super-emt spidey senses started tingling. I had a suspicion, so I activated ALS. I gave my patient 324mg of Aspirin, got my vitals, and took him to my truck. ALS arrived and did a 12 lead. I was right, the patient was having a STEMI (ST elevation myocardial infarction.) I learned a couple of big lessons that day, firstly don't ever ignore your gut, sometimes it may know a little bit more than you do. Secondly, things are most definitely not always going to be textbook. This patient had no complaints of chest pains, or chest discomfort. I learned to always be suspicious ,and to evaluate thoroughly.<br />
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The other calls that have always stuck to me were simple transfers. Some of the patients I transported had some amazing stories. Stories of wars, to stories of the great depression and how they, and their families survived. I learned that we are truly blessed to be able to have contact with such amazing people. They have lived lives of struggles and triumphed. Their problems were so much larger than ours. It took me awhile to realize it, but we were caring for living history lessons! How amazing is that? I don't exactly know when this epiphany totally struck me, but ever since I have made sure to treat my elders with the best care that I could possibly give them. I was once sitting in the ER with a family friend who had overdosed on benzodiazepines. While wandering the halls, I came across a lady. Person after person walked by her, and each time she tried to reach out to them, whispering help. I was disgusted. With my mother in tow, I approached this woman and asked her what she needed. She simply replied to me with "my feet are cold, I just wanted a blanket." I looked at this poor woman, and said "Absolutely my dear, I will go get you a blanket right now." So, I walked to the blanket warmer, grabbed her a couple of roasty toasty blankets, and covered her up. This is the part that touched me, she then looked at me with tears in her eyes and said, "I love you, thank you so much!" of which I replied "I love you too, I hope you feel better soon." My mother was in shock. This woman, who survived such hard times deserved the best treatment. After all, don't they teach you antiques are breakable? We must handle our elders with the best care.<br />
<br />
I suppose I could go on and on about the lessons that I have learned being in this field. Heck, I am sure I could write a novel about it. But the point here is to show you the importance of each and every call. Always be suspicious, always take care of yourself, and always treat your elders with the utmost respect. We will be living history some day, and I could only hope that the youth we encounter will take a moment to appreciate our lives.<br />
<br />
Have a great night folks!<br />
<br />
RU-Responders Unite <br />
<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8195859999678205127.post-62715278110053832172013-08-17T23:08:00.001-04:002013-08-17T23:08:54.566-04:00What happened to tough love?<div class="MsoNormal">
It seems these days that we live in a society that believes
that nothing bad could ever happen to them. Children are being raised with no
regard to rules. People live off of poor judgment because consequences, and punishment
are no longer feared. People live their lives thinking that bad things only
happen to other people, and that nothing will come of their poor decisions. We
in EMS disagree. Day after day, month after month, year after year, we get
called to aid of people who chose to act with reckless disregard. Some live to
see another day, other lose life or limb over a moment of stupidity.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My biggest pet peeve
is drunk driving.<o:p></o:p></div>
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How many people have to be critically injured or killed
before people act with half of a brain? I know, common sense isn’t so common
anymore. Every drunken car wreck I respond to makes me less and less
sympathetic. Every day we hear of people killed or critically injured due to
the impairment of a driver who recklessly drinks to the point of no return. This
impaired Einstein then decides jumping behind the wheel of his vehicle for a
midnight stroll is his best option. He never once thinks about why such a
decision is a wrong one. Not once does he think about the fact that the car he
is about to drive head on into is carrying a family of 5, returning from
vacation at Disney world.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLq2aa3Y11NUJ-R3BkApc6ok-rdtMbDBgR81fepAim_a-XVLxYJFwvz8DJ2BqMdvveD0tBiE62Lti5K5_sMHEN9f2Ze5jpCk2R2Q3E8KFyRdkDBDmScajFupi_8D5rusRPRW9VqQlFEMA/s1600/clinton+MVA2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLq2aa3Y11NUJ-R3BkApc6ok-rdtMbDBgR81fepAim_a-XVLxYJFwvz8DJ2BqMdvveD0tBiE62Lti5K5_sMHEN9f2Ze5jpCk2R2Q3E8KFyRdkDBDmScajFupi_8D5rusRPRW9VqQlFEMA/s320/clinton+MVA2.jpg" width="320" /></a><o:p> </o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
We had a call 3 weeks ago where two kids, a 19 year old and
a 17 year old decided drinking beer while driving was a good idea. At 90mph,
they lost control of their vehicle, slammed into a parked car, then slammed
into a large stone wall, which then sent their vehicle into the air, flipping
until it laid at rest on its side. The 19 year old was killed instantly, the 17
year old followed in his footsteps just a few moments later. Two families lost
their children that night, and why? Because not once did these kids fear the
consequences of drinking and driving. Children grow up with parents who are too
afraid to show their kids what reality looks like. They are too afraid to upset
them, and fear that they will be the cause of unwanted emotional distress, of
which will land their precious little wall flower in therapy for the rest of
their lives. What happened to tough love? Show them the images of wrecks. Make
them watch news report after news report about drunk drivers killing someone.
Show them the cars, show them the consequences. Show them the faces of the
victims before their fate was sealed. Without a dose of reality, they will
never believe that bad things can in fact happen. Because these two kids didn’t
fear the repercussions of driving while drunk, they lost their lives. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I think it is time to stand up and say enough is enough!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
RU-Responders Unite</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8195859999678205127.post-33131655310903454932013-08-15T21:25:00.002-04:002013-08-15T21:52:05.450-04:00The Complacent Medic<div class="MsoNormal">
I am sure a lot of you have had run-ins with what most of us
call the “Lazy medic.” I could almost guarantee that most experiences with this
said person will be of similar nature. We are speaking of those medics that
refuse to start an IV because it is too late at night to bother, someone who
downgrades a call to BLS that should go ALS because they are tired, or those who refuse to give a pain medication because cracking that dreaded seal
on the drug box would result in them not only having to go to the hospital pharmacy
to restock, but then they would have to audit the drug box. Oh no! Does this mean they have to do their jobs? Anything but that! Oh the horror!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had one experience of laziness that I could not explain.
We got called as a BLS unit to the scene of a female patient who had symptoms
of nausea and vomiting for 4 consecutive days. On the scale of sick or not
sick, this woman landed in that red hot sick zone. This patient was severely
dehydrated to the point where, not only could we not hear a blood pressure, her
radial pulses were impalpable. We called ALS, made the intercept, and gave our
report. Our medic then promptly told us this call didn’t require ALS, and that
they would just go on the ride to “make us idiot basics feel better.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Excuse me?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This medic then initiated IV access, and instead of giving this
woman a bolus of fluid, he locked the line. Really? I will end this story
there, but you could imagine how irate I was. Not only was my competence
questioned in front of a patient, but my patient didn’t even receive the care
she needed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This story raises a couple really big questions. How does one get so complacent that they
forget what their job is about? How does someone get to that point, and why is
it that when these people get called out on their deficiencies they immediately
take a defensive stance, puff out their chests and promptly assure everyone
that their years of experience is all that matters.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ah, paragod syndrome. Yes, I said the dreaded made up word,
paragod. I do not use this term lightly. There is a large difference between
years of experience and knowledge, and years of complacency. Some of the most
respected medics are those who never forget where they came from, and realize
every day is a new experience. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now this raises another question, how does one come to the
point of such arrogance? Some blame it on burn out, some merely believe they
have seen it all, and therefore they are allowed to dictate which patients will
actually get their full attention. I don’t know about you, but I think most of
us have had that patient that seemed like they were fine, and upon further evaluation
gave you the instant “pucker effect.”
Think about it. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We once got called out mutual aid, primary ambulance to the
next town over for the man experiencing dizziness upon standing. Activate the
instant eye roll folks, here is another BS call, right? Wrong. We get on scene,
start evaluating and find that the patient is conscious alert and oriented and
his blood pressure is 156/84. His pulse? Well crap, his pulse was a mere 26.
That’s right folks, 26. Instant pucker. Now if we treated this as just another BS
call, we would have missed a major problem. Now, what happens when we become
complacent? We get too comfortable, we let our guard down, and when we are at
our most comfortable, we mess up and kill someone. Are you seeing my point?
Some medics, and even some basic care providers let their foolish pride dictate
their patient care. This is a problem. When one gets to the point that their
treatment options are the only thing they will consider, it’s time to move on.
Many times have I spoken up and made suggestions regarding patient care that
had been considered by an open minded medic, and used because it was a good
option that in the end worked well for the patient. Communication saves lives
folks!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now, how do we fix this problem? And, yes this is a problem.
I believe the first step is to constantly remind yourself of these few simple
things:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">*</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->You were new once. Which means, you too at one
point were the thorn on the rear quarters of your preceptors. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">*</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->You will never stop learning. Each patient and
each event has different variables.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><br /></span>
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">*<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Nothing is ever textbook, because someone looks
fine, doesn’t mean they are fine.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><br /></span>
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">*<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->You are not god’s gift to EMS. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This job is not all about experience. It is about being open
minded, and knowing that you will never stop learning. Experience is only a
part of the equation that makes up what we do. Constant education, and frequent
scenario based training is what sets you up for a successful career. Competence,
and confidence are great aspects. All I ask is that you learn the difference
between confidence and out right arrogance. Your coworkers are your sounding
board, without teamwork our jobs would be impossible. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I did not write this as a personal attack on anyone, but to
merely shed some light on this ongoing issue. I think we all at some point get
too comfortable, and require a reminder that we are about to do more harm than
good. Our jobs are not about how much we can show each other up, it is about
providing high quality pre-hospital patient care. The patients are why we are
here. So, the next time you have that patient that looks fine, and you believe
shouldn’t go to the hospital, cover your bases sometimes things can be more
than they initially appear to be.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Stay humble folks!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
RU-Responders Unite<o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1