“Male, 40 years old – fitting”.
It was a park, it was midday. I didn’t really need to see the update that said,
“Patient with two males, both appear drunk”.
I think that it is a law of the universe that your middle-aged, middle of the day, middle of the park fitter will be an alcoholic. That or they are an epileptic alcoholic.
As we approached the scene my crewmate asked where I thought it would be.
“Well, the drunks tend to hide down by that end, it’s close to the off license”.
I was right. Our patient looked familiar, but after a while they all look familiar. I did recognise his two friends, one had been picked up two days ago, the other was another of our regular callers.
“He’s had another fit”, said the slightly more sober one, “He’s had three today”.
“Yeah”, said the other taking a swig from a big bottle of cheap cider, “He’s epileptic but he doesn’t take his tablets”.
Our patient had the same ground in grime that you get from sitting on a park bench drinking all day, then falling over and going to sleep in the bushes before heading home at some point in the early hours. A simple job to load him up onto the stretcher, check him out and give him some oxygen and pop him into hospital.
My crewmate and I were inspecting him in the ambulance when I felt an urge to pass wind.
It was perfect timing, I could blame it on the semi-conscious patient.
My crewmate groaned, “I think he’s pooed himself”.
I told her the truth.
By the time we reached the hospital the patient was a lot more awake, so we spoke to the handover nurse, put him on a trolley and went outside to clean up, finish off the paperwork and *ahem* air out the back of the ambulance.
I think it was thirty seconds before we saw him walking out the department.
Probably towards the nearest off-license.