Man, do we suck

The title kind of says it all doesn't it?

WSS and I have totally dropped the ball. We have both had hilarious patients, great posts, sad patients and entertaining stories to tell recently and neither of us has posted.

We suck. And not it the happy, fun way.

But all is not lost. I have 2 posts that are partly written that I will make sure to get up within the next week. And I'm sure WSS can crank something out too.

So, stay tuned, we're still here and we still have funny stories.

GWN

Of yeah, as a favor to Ambulance Driver we just wanted to pass this along.

Cycles and More still sucks.

Let's call him SGT Smith

So I went to Great Big Hospital to pick up a patient who had recovered from an acute MI and was going home to the long term care facility where he had been living for the past several years . I stopped by the nurses station to begin the requisite paperwork while my intrepid partner went to the patient room to introduce himself, grab a set of vitals, see if the patient could get on the cot by himself, and check for things like a foley, IV, monitor, etc that might need to be discontinued before we left. He came back in a few with a set of vitals and didn't say much else. I finished the paperwork and went down to the room where a CNA was attempting to dress our patient in a hospital gown, since the patient apparently favored nudity. The patient was literally kicking and screaming at the nurse and telling her how expensive the clothes were and that they were the property of the USMC and that she shouldn't be so careless with them and that he was fine to stay just the way he was. He became more and more combative and abusive as time went on, but due to perserverance and some cool CNA ninja moves, our intrepid aide finally managed to get our patient somewhat dressed. He was still more than a little immodest, but at least she'd tried.

I asked her if our patient was normally this combative and she said he wasn't. I told her I was uncomfortable taking him in our ambulance unless everyone was clear that I might need to use restraints, and/or they gave him a sedative before we left. So I went to talk to the nurse and she seemed confused as the patient had never been that way with her. As soon as she and I walked back into the room, the patient saw the nurse, and turned into a very calm man, smiling and making borderline suggestive comments, and there was actually a spark and a gleam in his eye. 3 minutes ago, he was angry and combative and now he's on the prowl with the admittedly quite attractive nurse.

The patient's history suggested that his altered mental status worsened significantly after his MI, so now I knew that I had a normally calm, but confused patient and something about the CNA and the gown had set him off. My partner and I loaded him to our stretcher and cocooned him a bit in the sheets just in case and set off through the hallways of Great Big Hospital. As we walked, our patient was making random observations and comments which I initially ignored, but then began to listen to. A lot of what he was saying made no sense until it hit me. Our patient, Mr. Smith (not his real name of course) was actually a former Marine Corps infantryman and right this very minute in his mind, we were in a combat zone. His unit had just been hit hard by enemy fire and he and all of his buddies were wounded badly. The reason he was so upset was that someone (presumably a Medic) had snatched him away from his buddies to treat his wounds and he was concerned about the rest of his unit. As soon as I figured this out, and started to tailor my conversation to suit his reality, he started to calm down quite a bit.

By the time I had him in the back of our ambulance, I had the whole story, and I had assured SGT Smith, that me and my partner were indeed military medics and we were assigned to take him to a facility where he could be properly treated and more importantly the remainder of the medics in our group had been sent to take care of the rest of his sqad. He relaxed more and then asked me where I was taking him to get fixed up. He was concerned that the drive to Philadelphia might be a very long one and he wasn't sure he could make it. I asked him if he had ever been to Georgia (not really, but it's a southern state and it works for the story) and he lit up like a kid at christmas and said "Son, I was BORN in Georgia." I asked him where and he said "Eatonton , I was born in Eatonton Georgia." And I said, well SGT Smith, I'm taking you to a military hospital in Warner Robins. Then with a sly grin, SGT Smith said "are you SURE you can't take me to Eatonton?"

No sir, I said, I have my orders and you know how the Corps is about orders. We're going to Warner Robins and that's the end of it. He laughed and said, "Son, I knew you couldn't, but I had to try. You just carry out your orders and I'm sure I'll be fine". With that, my formerly confused, angry, combative patient closed his eyes and napped for the rest of our 20 minute ride to his nursing home.

When we got there and unloaded him, he recognized the nurses and aides on his ward, and seemed quite content to be there. Now whether he knew he was in the nursing home, or thought they all worked in a military hospital in Warner Robins, GA, I'll never know, but at least he was calm and peaceful and no one had to drug or restrain him.

Some days I love my job.

WSS

Sometimes ...

Sometimes this job just sucks hot rocks. It's not actually the job that sucks, but who you are called on to help. We're supposed to be working on "them", not "us". If you pray, please pray. One of our own got hurt tonight.

Mothers Day

On Mother's Day, I was able to be a part of the unofficial Dive Rescue Team which was able to save 10 tiny ducklings from a sewer drain.

One of our other squads saw a mother duck acting very strangely near a sewer grate, and so they stopped to take a look. The found 10 of her little ones had fallen through a sewer grate.

We were called in as back up because...um....because that's where Dispatch told us to go. We were bringing some backup supplies. One of the EMTs from the first squad on scene was nominated to get into the sewer to get the ducks. He said the smell didn't bother him because it reminded him of the air at Really Terrible Nursing Home.

So here are two pictures of the GWN Dive Rescue Team in action. I'm not in either of these pictures. And Mom was soon reunited with her ducklings.

Enjoy.

Great White North

So how did THAT happen?

I'm soliciting guesses from the general public as to how exactly I managed to write THREE run reports in one shift for the same patient.  I'll give you a hint.  It wasn't actually a patient as much as it was a deceased individual.

WSS

To all the nurses out there ...

Nurses ... please pay attention.  If you have a patient in ICU who is aged and has recently undergone surgery, especially C-Spine Surgery, and they are about to be transferred by ambulance to a rehab center ... PLEASE GIVE THEM THEIR PAIN MEDS BEFORE WE GET THERE.  

Seriously, if you give them their pain meds on the way out the door, even ON OUR COT ALREADY, the pain meds will kick in about the time the patient gets to the rehab center, but they will endure us lifting and moving them onto the cot, lifting them into the ambulance, DRIVING them around town on streets that are under construction, unloading them from the ambulance, and lifting them onto the bed at the rehab center.  All of these are very uncomfortable activities for a patient who is in a great amount of pain.

Laying on the bed on the other end of the trip isn't so bad, so don't be so worried that she will be uncomfortable when she gets there, but rather please consider the trip and give them those pain meds a half hour before we arrive.

Your patients will thank you, and the EMT who has to sit in the back of the ambulance and listen to the patient moan in pain that YOU could have prevented will thank you.

... WSS

Nursing Home Fail

"Um, she fell" said the CNA.

 

Sigh.  I already knew that.  That's why you called me.  At 2am.  But CNA's are borderline retarded on a good day, so maybe another try will help get me a little information.

 

"Okay, and..."

 

"Um, lemme get the nurse."

 

Fail.  Double fail.  There's an 80 y/o lady moaning and writhing in pain in a wheelchair, its 2am.  Of course she fell.  I knew that before I left the station to come here.  When did it happen?  Wheres she hurt?  Why is she in a wheelchair?  Why is she moaning in pain?  Mental status, medical history?  But no, you don't know anything.  And worse than that, Sandy (not her real name) looks like she's actually injured, seriously injured.  And she is definitely in pain.

 

"Sandy, what happened to you tonight?  Where are you hurting?" I ask, kneeling down in front of the wheelchair.

 

"oh sweet Jesus, oh my leg hurts.  My leg hurts really bad.  Oh, please help me." Sandy yells.

 

Airway check, breathing check, good skin color so we'll give circulation a tentative check.  Quick impression: elderly black lady, in distress, holding her left thigh, left foot/leg rotated outwards 90 degrees, left leg possibly shortened.  Clearly in severe pain and major distress.  No other obvious injuries.  Her right foot is hooked around the left ankle providing the only stabilization she has in the wheelchair.  The "nurse" shows up.  I'll let Cute Medic Partner start a more detailed assessment, I want answers from the nurse.

 

"What happened and whats she doing in a wheel chair?" I ask, not really bothering to hide my anger.

"Oh, well she fell and we pick her up.  Bed alarm went off at 12:30" says the vacant eyed LPN who's English is barely understandable.

90 minutes.  90 minutes since the alarm saying she fell til now.  90 minutes where she has been screaming in genuine pain either on the floor, or worse in your wheelchair.  90 minutes of not calling, and then requesting we come non-emergent.  This goes above and beyond usual nursing home failures.  WAY beyond.  

"How did she fall, and where is the paperwork?"

She hands me the paperwork and I start running through it looking for important stuff, meds, allergies, code status, etc.  But as always with shitty homes, the paperwork has a face sheet, the blurry photocopy of a photocopy of a photocopied med list from last month, and medicare paperwork promising Sandy can have her room back.  The very last thing I could possibly care about is insurance and medicare paperwork.  Its not relevant to me and even if it was relevant, I'd want some actual medical information about Sandy first.  

I turn back to my partner and look at Sandy and try to decided how to get her out of the wheel chair.  If she had been lying on the floor, I could have used about 4 different techniques to get her up with only moderate amounts of pain.  Now, we have to lift her up by hers shoulders and thighs.  Its the only way and its really gonna hurt.

"Sandy, we're gonna have to lift you out of this chair they put you in.  I'm not gonna lie, its gonna hurt alot.  But we'll be as quick as we can."

So we lift and she screams and its horrible.  My partner looks like she about to kill someone, but we stabilize the hip was best we can with heavy blankets and cot straps.  Then the Russian "supervisor" shows up with more useless paperwork.  I do see buried at the very bottom is important info like her last History and Physical and code status (Full Code, of course).

Best part is once we get her lying down flat and no longer putting pressure on the broken hip, we see her left leg is 1-2 inches shorter than her right leg.  and the whole thing is very obviously rotated 90 degrees outwards.  So, Sandy is in for some heavy duty orthopaedic work.

On the way out we've already decided that she needs pain relief in the field.  So the medic partner starts hooking up chest leads for an EKG while I prep the IV supplies and get the blood pressure and pulse ox hooked up.  

"Wait, whats she allergic too?  They didn't mention any allergies and its listed as No Known Drug Allergies in the paperwork."  I ask noticing an allergy alert band on her right arm.

We both search for the paper work.  Its either listed as blank or NKDA everywhere.  So why the alert band?  In the very back of the paperwork is a form saying she is having her routine annual TB skin test and it was started yesterday.  Further exam reveals a circled area of skin on the inside of her right arm.

"You've got to be kidding.  They used an allergy alert band to mark the TB skin test??" my partner asks.  "Tell me even these people aren't that stupid"

"Well, best I can figure, yeah that's exactly what they did.  They are that stupid"

So she starts an IV while I get printouts of the EKG and other vitals signs.  And like a helpful EMT-B, I have the narcotics box pulled out, still sealed, and sitting on the bench next to her before she is finished taping the IV down.

"Alright, lets go, I'll give her this while we get going"

So I start the drive, going 20 mph at the most, weaving back and forth to try to avoid the biggest potholes.  We finally make it to the ER all the way across town and get her inside.  4 mgs of Morphine have definitely helped, but she's still obviously in major pain.

While we give the report to the ER nurses they look at us like we're pulling a joke when we point out the allergy band and the 90 minutes sitting on the deformed, probably broken hip in a wheelchair before we arrived.

"No, I couldn't make up that sort of abuse if I tried" says my partner.

We wish Sandy good luck, and I go start cleaning up the back of the rig and the cot while Medic Partner finishes paperwork.  Then we get a nurse to watch her waste the extra Morphine into a bio container and its time to clear.  We still need to fuel and we might have a chance to get 2 hours sleep if we're lucky.  We weren't that lucky but we did get to talk to Awesome Dispatcher about the nursing homes massive screw up when we went to get more narcotics.

Just another day in paradise....

GWN