You would think that it is pretty obvious what us ambulance people do; pick up sick people, treat them and then take them to hospital.
If you've read this blog over the last few years you will have realised that we do much more than that.
It's why I carry a Swiss army knife, because more than once I've been called to fix something.
The other day I had one of the weirder calls, it was sent to us as 'Having heart attack because of two boxes'.
Needless to say this piqued our interest.
We arrived as scene quickly, after all it was a 'Cat A' call and so be there in eight minutes or be a failure – but we were also the quickly as the address was just around the corner to the station.
Once the patient opened the door we recognised her, I'd say all LAS and half of the Police force in the area would have recognised her as well…
She is elderly and lives alone. She is also probably schizophrenic, or at least has some form of dementia. She has daily carers who are good, but they aren't there all day so she gets worried and scared easily.
The last time I was sent there was because she hadn't had her morning cup of tea and was worried that she would faint.
This time we were there because some delivery pillock had picked her address, out of all possible addresses to mis-deliver two large boxes.
These boxes turning up on her doorstep had, as she described it, 'given her a heart attack'. She'd phoned the police, and they had directed her to us.
And here we were.
The two boxes were lurking in the corner of her living room, staring at her with malicious intent.
Well, not really, but she was acting as if they were the most evil things in existence. There was no way that we could leave the boxes here because she would just keep phoning us, or the police, back.
So it was time for our problem solving skills to get a bit of exercise.
I phoned Control to get the phone number of the address on the box. This was not that easy as our radio kept cutting out, I would guess that we were in a b it of a dead spot as there wasn't any rain…
Control then looked up the p-hone number and relayed the number to me – I then phoned the person who was supposed to have the boxes (he only lived around the corner).
He was greatly surprised to hear from the ambulance service about his mislaid parcels, but was more than happy to come and pick up the bosses himself.
I suggested that this wasn't a good idea, and that we would come and drop the boxes up to him – after all if he turned up after we left our patient would probably call out the coastguard as well as us and the police.
So, as I knew the address I threw (ahem, rather I 'placed carefully') the parcels in the back of the ambulance and drove them around to him.
He was both exceptionally happy and very grateful.
Parcels delivered I returned to my cremate (and FRU, did I mention they were sent as well?) and picked her up after she finished assessing the patient.
Problem solved, and no need to drag our woman off to hospital.