decided to 'scoop and run' to the nearest hospital. The paramedic
secured the patients airway by passing a tube down the windpipe, and
we got the patient onto the scoop, all the time continuing the CPR and
giving potentially lifesaving drugs. We then carried him, with the help
of his team-mates to the ambulance and rushed him to hospital.
Unfortunately, the patient never regained consciousness, and died in the
resuscitation room.
Thirty-four years old, normally fit and healthy - and he drops dead on a
football pitch. Despite our best efforts there was nothing more we could
have done for him; the treatment went according to plan and the
resuscitation attempt went smoothly. This was a 'proper' job, but one
job we would have happily done without.
Why Won't They Let Me Do This?
Here is a moan about something that I am not allowed to do. I'm not
allowed to run people over in my job. I could really clear the streets of
a lot of stupid people if I was able to do that.
Picture the scene: there I am, driving through the streets of London in
big white van, with blue flashing lights, loud sirens running and the
word Ambulance written in rather large letters. As a pedestrian, what
would you do? Would you think 'Hmm, being run over by that would
really hurt, I think I'll wait the 12nanoseconds that it takes him to drive
past before I cross the road'. Or would you, as most of the people in my
area apparently do, think 'Hmm, an Ambulance on his way to an
important job, I bet I can run across the road in front of him before he
can hit me'.
During the last job, three people tried to dive under my ambulance. If I
was allowed (by government grant or some such) to keep driving and
splat them across my windscreen, that would mean three less idiots
being allowed to breed tonight.
Oh well, I might get lucky later tonight.
Dear Mr Alcoholic
...Can all alcoholics please just get drunk in their houses and fall asleep
there? Why do you insist that you drink your Tennent's Super in a
public place where some do-gooder will think you are ill and call for an
ambulance.
...Can you also have a bath once in a while? I know it's nice to roll
around in the road while drunk, but it would be nice if you were at least
a bit clean to start with.
...Would you mind awfully if you don't swear at me, take a swing at me
or expose yourself to me. I have quite enough abuse from the
non-drunks out there... Still at least your fists are easy to dodge, and if I
stop holding you up, you fall over.
...If you have a medical condition, please don't use it as an excuse to get
taken into hospital. If you tell me 'I'm drunk and need to sleep it off', I
have less work to do than if you tell me that you have 'Chest pain,
Angina, Cancer and Difficulty in Breathing'. The more tests I have to
do the longer it will be before you get to hospital, and the more I have
to come into physical contact with you. If you are just drunk, then I can
just be a taxi.
...When you have been sick, at some point in the next week or so, could
you please change your clothing. Give them to someone who hasn't
knackered their brain on booze to wash. Dry vomit on the clothing,
while advertising your love for beer, doesn't endear yourself to me
thankyouverymuch.
...Please keep your weight down either through diet or terminal liver
failure. I'm the poor bastard that has to lug the dead weight of your
unconscious body into the ambulance.
...You don't have to tell me 'I'm an alcoholic', and sound so proud about
it. I do have a nose, and can smell for myself.
...Finally although Tennent's Super Strong lager, White Lightning, and
for the rare rich alcoholic Stella Artois are perfectly acceptable drinks,
could you please come up with something less damaging? I think
lighter fuel is better for you and contains fewer chemicals.
A Child is Born...
The story of the first baby I delivered - I can still remember it now. I
can also remember my feeling of relief when it all went smoothly. Yet
still managed to turn it into a rant about Midwifery.
Just in from my late-shift and feeling more upbeat than normal. Tonight
I delivered my first baby... and yet I can still turn this happy event into
a rant.
Picture the scene, you are a midwife (this means you have a chip on
your shoulder the size of the African debt), and a
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