(Un)Interesting Night

So I wished for an interesting job, and I got…

A collapsed 50 year old female, probably from a low blood pressure.  A pleasant couple, and she had just been discharged from hospital that day (after investigations into a possibly related condition).

A middle-aged mother who was having a panic attack.  The crew reached her at the same time as me, so there was nothing for me to do.

I was then sent six miles to a worried mother and daughter, who had been asleep with the gas cooker still on downstairs.  Both were absolutely fine, but went to hospital in order to put the mothers mind at ease.

A 28 year old female, who had a high temperature for two days, and that night had started to vomit.  Otherwise healthy, with what I euphemistically call “No Priority Symptoms”.  The husband followed the ambulance to the hospital (1 mile away) in his car.

Then I was sent to a patient with two days history of chest pain, basically outside the Royal London hospital.  (Stopped me getting my 1 am bagels from the 24 hour bagel shop…)  The pain was probably related to a cough he has had, but it was hard to tell as he didn’t speak English, and my translation was via a friend who wouldn’t ask the patient what I told him to ask.

A maternataxi, where the ambulance crew asked what I was doing in that part of the world, just because I was so far from station, and they, like me, can’t believe that labour pains are a “Category A” emergency response.

Then I was sent six miles again to a young man with a mix of an asthma attack, and probably pneumonia.  I was able to start the lifesaving treatment that he needed (oxygen and a Salbutamol nebuliser), and the ambulance crew were only a few minutes behind me.  That patient was ‘blued’ into hospital, and spent the rest of the night in the resuscitation room.

My final call was to a male who was ‘dizzy’.  He met me outside his block of flats in his pyjamas and slippers, and refused to give any sort o medical history.  This was really infuriating, as there could have been something really rather wrong with him.  Thankfully the crew were right behind me, so we got him into the ambulance, and noticed that he had recently had a blood test.  Would he tell us what the blood test was?  No, would he tell us what medication he was on?  No.  Would he describe how he felt?  No.

We tried explaining that we couldn’t help him unless he started talking, because there are drugs we could have given him that react badly to some regular medications, but still he refused.

So the crew just took him into hospital, where he then proceeded to annoy the A&E staff.

So that was it, nothing interesting at all.

Apart from the radio/CD player in the car being broken…

Buggerit!

Miles driven – 97

8 Calls, 7 of them in under 8 minutes.

Longest run – 5.8 miles, shortest run – 0.7 miles

Average distance traveled to a call – 2.7 miles

 

13 thoughts on “(Un)Interesting Night”

  1. “Apart from the radio/CD player in the car being broken”You think maybe it was worried about some of the recommendations made a couple of posts back? I think it was faking it.

  2. So this last guy, who wouldn't give you any information – did he actually call 999 himself? I can't help wondering why… or why an ambulance would be sent if the only information he would part with was that he was dizzy.People are scary sometimes 🙁

  3. Well, he was still talking to our Control when I reached him. At least I think he was, because when I tried to speak to them, they had hung up.They probably hung up as soon as they heard me… I ended up not wanting to speak to him as well…

  4. Labour pains by themselves aren't a category A. What makes it a category A is the stupid question “Is there any serious bleeding?” The answers used to be “yes” and “no”, now they are “yes” “bleeding, not serious” “bleeding, now stopped” and “no”. Having a “show” used to count as a “no”, now it counts as a “bleeding, not serious”. According to AMPDS, any kind of 3rd trimester bleeding warrants a category A. Just about everyone agrees this is stupid, and that “bleeding, not serious” should be the same as no bleeding, since it is normal to have a show, but no-one has got round to changing it yet.I can't believe you managed a whole Friday night shift without seeing a single drunk. Some Friday nights I can go the whole night without speaking to a single sober person. It makes me kind of jealous.

  5. Thanks, that makes a twisted kind of sense – still horribly wrong, but at least I now know _why_ it is wrong.And I was also bloody surprised to not have one drunk.

    …suppose I'll make up for it tonight.

  6. Eric Robets used to call this the LAS's “Braed un butter work” Of course he didn't have to put up with all the frustration of having to deal and transport the stupid to hospital. How many times have you been in the back with a neurotic, when control have neen making desperate call for an avilable vehicle to cover a life threatening situation and had a frustrated urge to throw the “patient”out onto the street. No,no that would realy give waterloo the willies.

  7. Yes, well in my opinion Eric Roberts is an **Expletive Deleted**.And yes, on many occasions I've been in a truck with a drunk/wimp/idiot and they Control have been begging for an ambulance to go to a 'Child, fitting', or '90 year old female, possible broken hip'…

  8. I'd be tempted to make the drunk/wimp/idiot listen to a taped list of “real” emergencies. Mind you, there's a certain brand of person who that wouldn't make any difference to. They'd agree that car crashes and stabbings and people who aren't breathing are very important, yes… but they've stubbed their toe, dammit!

  9. Having had panic attacks regularly for about the last 14 years, it always irks me when I see people calling for an ambulance when someone has one, or they hot foot it to A&E. There's nothing you can do, and if it were me, the sight of a nee naw would make me feel worse. Apart from anything, I always feel incredibly stupid and self conscious after an attack.Ah well, maybe it was their first, and they didn't know what was happening.

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