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The Small Things: The dispatch story

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Sucks.

Seriously.  It goes like this:

‘”Code 1, unit 320, 2904 W Todd Ave unit 404 for an unknown problem”

We answer up, respond and arrive on scene. This is a local senior appartment center with 3 buildings, not connected, but the apartment numbers seem as though they are. For instance, 2900 has 100-140, 2904 has 141-200, etc.

We arrive, not paying a lot of of attention the apartment number when pulling up. Go up to the 4th floor, and start the look… noticing the apartments start at 440, not 404…

“Metro, 320″

-”Go ahead 320″

“Metro, there is no Unit 404 in this building. Can you please verify the Street Address and Unit Number”

-”stand by”

After a very long pause…

-”320, the RP called back a few minutes ago and said that she had the address wrong. They are in 2900 W Todd, unit 405″

WAIT. WHAT? They called back a FEW MINUTES AGO and you didn’t feel the need to let me know that I was going to the WRONG damn building and the WRONG damn unit?

Sure, in a geezer village there is little to worry about sending me to the wrong place, short of wasting my and the patient’s time. But what about in other neighborhoods, where I could have started pounding on the door of some find upstanding young hoodlum who thought the popo was coming to get him?

You can give me a bazillion updates including the color of their underwear and what they had for Thanksgiving dinner in 1934, but you can’t even tell me where to to find the lady with the pink zebra thong who had jellied cranberries in 1934?

F U Dispatch.

Please tell me you didn’t…

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Call 911 because you couldn’t sleep. Please tell me dispatch didn’t dispatch me code 3 for this “emergency”. Please.

Please tell me you didn’t expect me to be able to fix this… And please, please don’t get mad at me when I suggest you get a job as a means of tiring yourself so that you might be able to fall asleep at night.

Please.

The Jenny McCarthy Song: She Hates Your Kids (VIDEO)

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Trooper Daniel Martin v Maurice White

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Patricia Phillips of the Oklahoma Crime Examiner has posted up some great new news about Trooper Douche Bag Daniel Martin. He has been suspended FIVE WHOLE DAYS without pay!!!! Whoooopeee! You’ve gotta read the letter she has posted.

Martin Letter

Fox23.com also has news up that Mr. White is suing Trooper Martin. Dumb ass. Read the letter and head over to Patricia’s story to leave a comment. Tell her I sent ya! The letter is hard to believe. I will post up a comment or two in the morning!

FOX23 has new information in the case of the now infamous confrontation between an Oklahoma Highway Patrol trooper and a paramedic.

The paramedic, Maurice White has filed a civil lawsuit against Trooper Daniel Martin; accusing him of using “unreasonable force.”

Nearly two months later Trooper Daniel Martin remains on administrative leave.

The trooper pulled over the ambulance after he says the driver failed to yield to his cruiser, and he was upset, accusing the ambulance driver of “giving him the finger.”

He is seen grabbing Maurice White and putting his hand around his neck while a patient was screaming inside the ambulance.

The paramedic, upset that the Highway Patrol has taken no action against the trooper is now suing him for damages in excess of $10,000.

White’s attorney tells FOX23 “We just want a reckoning and accountability”.

Fox news reports Trooper Martin has offered an apology to the family of the woman who was inside the ambulance at the time.

Martin’s future with the highway patrol is still in question. His case, in the hands of the Chief of the Highway Patrol.

Partners.

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I have some great partners. I’ve also got some really, really crappy partners. Some of them just know what to do. Others need me to hold their hands while they take a crap. Some just can not figure out what being a partner means.

 

So……

A partner is:

-A friend who shares a common interest or participates in achieving a common goal

-A member of an intimate relationship

-A member of a partnership

-A business partner

-Partner (business rank), a member of a law firm or accounting firm which is formed as a partnership; sometimes senior employees of the firm may have the title "partner" (e.g., "salaried partner") to indicate a profit sharing status; salaried partners are distinguished from equity partners, who own the business.

-A participant in a partner dance

 

Things partners should NOT do…

-Throw you under the bus every chance they get

-Use you in a piss poor attempt to further their own careers

-Kiss your ass after doing so

-Ask you for favors after doing so

-expect you to do them favors after doing so

-expect me to NOT give them a reciprocal bus-throwing-under

-Expect me to NOT succeed and leave you bloodied in a ditch off a dirt road in Idaho.

Seriously. When the oldest person at your station is the most immature, idiotic, and pigheaded dumb ass staff member, you know you’re in a ginormous cluster fuck…

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Oh, and some things you should not try to tell me that you are "allergic" to:

-Epi. Seriously? You’re adrenal glands are going to have to disagree

-Sugar. Specifically Glucose. You’re fucking kidding me, right?

-Ammonia? You do understand the difference between an allergy and a hypersensitivity? You get that NO ONE likes how breathing in ammonia makes you feel…

-Right?

-PS… since you are allergic to ammonia, sugar, and epi… what would you like me to do about your "allergic reaction" now that you are in anaphylactic shock? Fucking black magic?

-If you are allergic to sugar why are you drinking a humongo gas station Reese’s Capafrapasugarladencino?

 

The pediatric dose of Benadryl would actually give you MORE Benadryl than the adult dose… based on weight. F-tard(that is me restraining myself.)

 

How in the HELL did one small company with 8 full time employees end up with a concentration of 3(THREE) people with the same set of nearly impossible allergies? 

 

You are a walking, crazy talking, plumb fucking nuts train wreck.train_wreck-782867

Wow…

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My mother in law is soooo afraid of us picking a horrible name for our baby…

At least I’m not this father douche bag.

Here is a preview of what you get by clicking the above link…

The father of 3-year-old Adolf Hitler Campbell, denied a birthday cake with the child’s full name on it by one New Jersey supermarket, is asking for a little tolerance. Heath Campbell and his wife, Deborah, are upset not only with the decision made by the Greenwich ShopRite, but with an outpouring of angry Internet postings in response to a local newspaper article over the weekend on their flare-up over frosting.

"I think people need to take their heads out of the cloud they’ve been in and start focusing on the future and not on the past," Heath Campbell said Tuesday in an interview conducted in Easton, on the other side of the Delaware River from where the family lives in Hunterdon County, N.J.

"There’s a new president and he says it’s time for a change; well, then it’s time for a change," the 35-year-old continued. "They need to accept a name. A name’s a name. The kid isn’t going to grow up and do what (Hitler) did."

No, but he isn’t going to win many awards for having the most peaceful name in history either…

The Campbells’ other two children also have unusual names: JoyceLynn Aryan Nation Campbell turns 2 in a few months and Honszlynn Hinler Jeannie Campbell will be 1 in April.

Do you ever just think to yourself…. "WHAT THE F#@K?!!"

Assumption

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Killed the Cat. Ok, maybe not. Maybe it was idiocy, or indifference, or… the old standby curiosity.

We’re running with Assumption though.

When people call 911 they EXPECT a fast response. When people call 911 they EXPECT lights and sirens. When people call 911 they EXPECT us to bring them into a ED bed full of nurses, doctors, rad techs, lab techs, admitting, and fancy gadgets. They EXPECT that we will transport them fast–with lights and sirens. They EXPECT me to use complex terms, fancy gadgets, and McGuiver like cleverness.

What they actually GET is an entirely different story. What they get is adequate, qualified, professional Medical Care. Not ER/Third Watch style gung ho Cowboy Medicine.

We are “self dispatched” in that we determine our response based off of what dispatch provides us. It has never faild us and I’m glad we don’t use some of the EMD models that mean every time someone says they are in “pain” they get a Code 3 repsonse(see my posts from internship). If it sounds bad we hurry. If it is a frequent flyer and it sounds bad, we likely still hurry. Our Dispatchers also know when to give us the right information. Some may find this method “dangerous” but honestly I find responding to “eye pain”, “leg pain” and “back pain” at 90 MPH dangerous, so that debate can be had in the comments section.

When I get on scene I grab what I need and walk in. I do not run. I’m fat and running is just going to make me another patient. I need to be collected whether it is serious or not. Hell, sometimes the “non serious” calls are the ones I need to be the most collected for. Keeping using my inner voice from the outside world can be challenging at times.

When I approach the patient I try to calmly assess the situation, but do it methodicly and swiftly. Again, no sense in getting freaked out. If a patient really is sick, they won’t be helped any by me doing things rushed and wrong. The only people who complain that I am not going fast enough are the ones that had no business calling 911 in the first place.

I then move to treatment–often this means I talk to the patient while we head in. Sometimes(less often than ER and 3rd Watch make you think!) I actually start an IV, push a med, give oxygen, or the like. Many patients get a good dose of CYA Medicine. They might get a Nitro/Aspirin/MS/IV/Monitor/Oxygen/12 lead for their “chest pain” or Monitor/Oxygen/IV for the SOB, or a C-Collar/Backboard/Monitor for “neck pain”. Most of these patients do not need any of them, but hoenstly I can’t afford to be out of work because one of them actually did. We aren’t provided a Lab or Radiology department in the back of our fancy dancy ambulance so thus I rarely can rule anything out. I try though. I try hard…

So, we’re enroute with our presumably non-serious patient who is persistent that the apocolypse is near and it brings me to the time for report. If I am going local(I’d say 75% of the time we go local, I have the freedom to automatically divert and head to the trauma centers/stroke center/heart hospital on my own though)I give them a short phone report, Usually Name/DOB/Chief Complaint and if I’m more than a mile out(rarely) I’ll give them vitals. On occasion we do take patients that are more critical local, as a platform for stabilization. Again, this is rare. If I am headed to the big boy toy store then I’ll give age/chief complaint/vitals.

Now the fun part. With those radio reports I often give them a series of words that I find very important. For BS calls I say “Calling in report on a 17 YO male for triage complaining of….” For serious calls they rarely get a full report. I usually give them enough information to determine its serious. I then hang up. If It is actually serious rarely do I have time to chit chat and give DOB/name/etc. Words like “Head on MVC at highway speeds” tends to spark interest. “Possible CVA” works too. Those are both cases that usually end up with special response teams. Few others have that(OB, etc).

What people don’t get is that even if they REALLY are having a heart attack, they aren’t going to get a full code team in their until they ACTUALLY code on us. They really only need 2 nurses to start. Most hospitals have a good CP protocol that will get the ball rolling before a Doc sees you.

The same goes for a patient who is having pretty much any other presumed problem. You don’t NEED immediate attention from 10 over worked, under paid ED staff members. What you NEED is a thorough, detailed, and adequate assessment. You don’t NEED anyone to rush. You don’t need to be pushed infront of patients who have been waiting all day just because you rode in a fancy dancy wahmbulance.

What you NEED is to shut up. You need to answer questions appropriately. You NEED to not treat medics/nurses/doctors/techs like shit because of your percieved emergency. No matter how bad you think it is, I promise somewhere in that hospital there is someone whose problems are far more severe. I also promise you that IF they are capable of talking, they aren’t being a huge pain in the ass to their HCPs.

Grow up. Don’t assume that you are more special than everyone else because you “feel like death”. Just get a grip. If you aren’t happy with the way healthcare works I think the Happy Hospitalist has some great tips.

Memo to my patients:

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Stop Signs Exist for a reason. You stop at them. Speed limit signs follow the same principle. 

You are damn lucky that Bus didn’t have any kids in it. Though you, your girlfriend, and your unrestrained passenger are going to be a little sore. 

To Usually subpar BLS servce: Don’t call for a ALS assist only to give us the ONLY patient with no injuries. Oh, and if I ever catch you putting a C-collar on a patient without backboarding them again I might do things to you that will make your mother cry. IF they NEED a C-Collar, they need a backboard. And don’t give me that “we only have two boards in our rig” crap. There were 4 fire trucks–3 of which had upwards of 3 boards each. 

PS, they didn’t need either. 

Asshats. 

Oh, and friendly Volunteer fire department… When there is no fire, and the vehicles have been removed from the scene, you can take your helmets off. ER… you could atleast flip the visor up… I know it looks cool… but it makes me look at you kinda funny…

Oh, back to you BLS crew. Don’t tell me how to treat my patients. You are the one that decided they needed a collar. That collar bought that 17 year old girl a 21 mile trip on a backboard.

Blah. 

All hell broke loose

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today. Seriously. ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE.

I was woke up by my pager at about 0600, multiple victims assualted by a broom handle(and maybe a brick). Blood alcohol of .352, .308, and .251. Sounds more like a gun caliber than what a blood alcohol should be. Of course, no one wanted treatment. Of course, we treated them all. 

I then got home, took off my boots, and the pager went off. Again. This time it was for a 84yo who fell at the nursing home, 3 hours prior. Easy Peasy.

After about a 2 hour nap I was again woke by the god awful sounds of the pager. This time it was to a 60yo male who passed out at the Casino. We get there, he looks just fine. No hx of syncopal episodes, minor cardiac hx. He has a BP of 105/63, pulse 58, and looks absolutely fine. Somehow though, my partner is convinced that these numbers are horrible.

Again, TREAT THE PATIENT, NOT THE MONITOR. Neither of those numbers is cause for alarm. Hell, if I had a BP of 105 I’d be extatic. Whatever. Finally I convince him that if they don’t want US to transport them that we have to honor that, and they go to the ED.

We went behind them, because my partner is still concerned that this guy is going to code. Being a small hospital, if that were to happen, we’d be called anyway. Whatever, the only thing I had going on was a sweet nap. We get there, I sit in the waiting room and watch some Discovery Channel, all while my partner gets all worked up cause now that the patient is relaxed his pulse is in the high forties. Guess what, patient is still fine–looks fine, feels fine, not really worried. 

About 45 minutes later he finally decides that if they need us they will call us. He is convinced we will be transporting this guy to the heart hospital in Sorta Big Town. Guess what–2 hours later–no pager tones.

alkjdasf;lkajsdf;lkjasdf! Seriously. The only thing that frustrates me more than trying to talk a patient that doesn’t want(or need) us to transport them in our $800 taxi is someone who doesn’t even realize the patient doesn’t need us. Oh, and Versed is NOT an analgesic.

More to follow. 60 hours left of my 168 hours of paramedical glory.