The older you get, the more stuff you accumulate. This seems to be the cornerstone of our western society and an accepted metric of just how successful you've been as a human being.
Somehow this all just seems backward. Every time I move (which has been way too often in the last few years) I yearn for less possessions and a more streamlined existence. Yet despite ruthless trash can fillings and trips to the local dump with cars stuffed to the roof with unwanted junk, I still end up feeling like it's all just too much.
One of these days I dream of just going crazy and leaving everything behind that doesn't fit in the trunk, hitting the road and not looking back. I mean REALLY ! Am I going to miss all the stuff that clutters up my life ? Would my time and money be better spent experiencing life rather than just filling it up with objects that suck up my resources ?
Like so many people I know who work multiple jobs, there's a distinct feeling that I'm paying good money just to rent a glorified storage unit in which to keep all of these unnecessary things. I get to spend a few nights a week here when I'm not at work, and all the rest of the time I'm burning money to keep all of my treasured items warm.
I don't know if I can find the courage to ditch it all. To find the zen balance between stuff and serenity. In the meantime I suppose I'll find solace in cable TV, Netflix and my really comfy couch.
Saturday, March 22, 2014
Monday, March 15, 2010
Car in brook
Amongst other calls yesterday was this one for a 'MVC rollover, car in the brook, occupant trapped'. He was indeed in the car (and still is in this picture) and couldn't get out. Electronic doors wouldn't open and the patient couldn't smash the windows. Quite an impressive launch off of the 10+ foot riverbank I would imagine. Very, very lucky not to have done any harm to himself. Score another one for seatbelts and airbags !
Friday, March 12, 2010
Cruel and unusual...
A circumstance arose today which presented us with such a challenge that we weren't sure how we'd all be able to overcome it and make it through the day. Yep, the Internet was down at the station. Now between calls we'd have to do something ELSE. Like read a book or whatever.
Turns out it wasn't going to be an issue as I spent most of the day with calls timed perfectly to allow just enough time between each one to complete my paperwork and be halfway through eating or drinking something. At one point there was a collection of coffee cups in the front of the ambulance that would have made Starbucks proud.
Still, highlights include a 60yom with chest pain. He got the full MONA workup - Morphine, Oxygen, Nitro and Aspirin. Despite the lack of findings on his EKG, I was still worried about him. He was in a lot of pain, but also seemed 'preload sensitive' - which is to say I was afraid to give him too much morphine and drop his blood pressure precipitously.
Next up was a psychotic drug addict who was in treatment but hadn't been dosed today as he managed to fall asleep at the wheel and roll his car on the highway. We didn't get called for the trauma - he'd already made it home by this point after signing out AMA - but what his counselor felt was odd behavior 'on the phone'. I love how mental health professionals can diagnose potentially life threatening conditions over the phone and use 911 to summon EMS, despite being unable or unwilling to get involved in actually COMPELLING the patient to go. Leaves us with a delicate and often lengthy negotiation with the patient to persuade them to be transported and evaluated. Then to roll into the ED after all that hard work and have the charge nurse give you that 'what the hell' look just caps it all.
Lastly a gentleman who had managed to fall on his ass. Literally. From about 3 feet up, straight onto his coccyx. Just from the howls and vomiting, he wasn't making this up and got as much in the way of narcotics as I can give him without calling in for more. It's a rare day when I get to crack the seal on the narcs box TWICE.
Thankfully no calls overnight as my work schedule is beginning to wear me down. Off to the next job....
Turns out it wasn't going to be an issue as I spent most of the day with calls timed perfectly to allow just enough time between each one to complete my paperwork and be halfway through eating or drinking something. At one point there was a collection of coffee cups in the front of the ambulance that would have made Starbucks proud.
Still, highlights include a 60yom with chest pain. He got the full MONA workup - Morphine, Oxygen, Nitro and Aspirin. Despite the lack of findings on his EKG, I was still worried about him. He was in a lot of pain, but also seemed 'preload sensitive' - which is to say I was afraid to give him too much morphine and drop his blood pressure precipitously.
Next up was a psychotic drug addict who was in treatment but hadn't been dosed today as he managed to fall asleep at the wheel and roll his car on the highway. We didn't get called for the trauma - he'd already made it home by this point after signing out AMA - but what his counselor felt was odd behavior 'on the phone'. I love how mental health professionals can diagnose potentially life threatening conditions over the phone and use 911 to summon EMS, despite being unable or unwilling to get involved in actually COMPELLING the patient to go. Leaves us with a delicate and often lengthy negotiation with the patient to persuade them to be transported and evaluated. Then to roll into the ED after all that hard work and have the charge nurse give you that 'what the hell' look just caps it all.
Lastly a gentleman who had managed to fall on his ass. Literally. From about 3 feet up, straight onto his coccyx. Just from the howls and vomiting, he wasn't making this up and got as much in the way of narcotics as I can give him without calling in for more. It's a rare day when I get to crack the seal on the narcs box TWICE.
Thankfully no calls overnight as my work schedule is beginning to wear me down. Off to the next job....
Tuesday, March 09, 2010
Little life
Once in a while a call will come along that reinforces the great privilege it is to be a Paramedic - to be thrust into the maelstrom of terror and confusion that is someone's emergency - and to deliver compassion, hope and care. To be trusted.
Car accidents have this potential for chaos from order. One minute everybody is riding along, listening to their favorite tune on the radio, and the next their metal cocoon is reshaped and redefined as something else entirely. Bits of glass, bits of bumper, mud and grass litter the road.
Last night the damage was minor, though the potential for great harm was only inches away. Catastrophe avoided. Three lives changed but not ended.
When we roll up, the female driver is in cuffs in the back of the squad car. The backseat passenger, an equally drunk and equally stupid male, stands a few feet away attempting to console a terrified two year old girl - the third passenger in the car and instantly my focus. She had been in her car seat, the straps had been on and no harm was visible. Her cries were for her mother, face pressed against the glass of the police car, close but yet far away.
I get angry at such displays of stupidity. To drive drunk (even drinking IN the car) with your beautiful daughter riding in the back. It defies belief. I shudder at the thought that such a precious life could have been ended by selfish indulgent adults, though I know it happens sadly all too often.
Still, we do our job. It soon becomes clear that the guy charged with holding on to our tiny patient is in no way related, completely drunk and wholly incapable of anything that could be described as care. He doesn't even know the little girl's last name. Hell, he doesn't even know his GIRLFRIEND'S last name. Jackass. He boards the ambulance as we load the child into her carseat strapped to the cot, but quickly gets turned right around again and ends up back on the street.
A short ride to the hospital with our distraught young patient, and the ED staff appear a bit confounded as to what to do. No family is available. While the Police assure us that DCFS has been called, they aren't here. No relatives have been found.
I pick up the little girl, hold her like I did my own daughter when she was that little. Rock and calm her until her sobs subside and she rests her head on my shoulder. I feel protective - I'm not ready to let her go to another set of strangers. We help the ED staff get her changed, assessed and examined, all the while I'm watching over and comforting her like my own scared child. When they're done I scoop her into my lap and rest her head in the crook of my arm, singing her songs I haven't sung in years until her tired, swollen eyes close and she slips off into a restful sleep.
At this point nothing else matters. I feel a calm and a sense of love for another human being that fills me up. All the BS calls and heartache of EMS disappear in this one pure moment where I can offer my patient nothing more than a safe, comfortable place to sleep.
It takes some time to locate a relative who can come get her. I spend it watching her breathe, feeling her warm little body wrapped up on my lap and hoping that her future will be brighter. That someone will care. That someone will take this huge responsibility seriously.
When it's time to give her up, it's hard to let go. In the space of a few short hours I've become attached, my emotions bound to her well-being. It's hard to imagine her ever being put back into the arms of the people that put her, alone, into my ambulance and my care. I can only hope (and this against big odds) that this will be a wakeup call for her mother, and that she will realize that she came close to losing such a precious, wonderful life.
Safe travels, little one.
Car accidents have this potential for chaos from order. One minute everybody is riding along, listening to their favorite tune on the radio, and the next their metal cocoon is reshaped and redefined as something else entirely. Bits of glass, bits of bumper, mud and grass litter the road.
Last night the damage was minor, though the potential for great harm was only inches away. Catastrophe avoided. Three lives changed but not ended.
When we roll up, the female driver is in cuffs in the back of the squad car. The backseat passenger, an equally drunk and equally stupid male, stands a few feet away attempting to console a terrified two year old girl - the third passenger in the car and instantly my focus. She had been in her car seat, the straps had been on and no harm was visible. Her cries were for her mother, face pressed against the glass of the police car, close but yet far away.
I get angry at such displays of stupidity. To drive drunk (even drinking IN the car) with your beautiful daughter riding in the back. It defies belief. I shudder at the thought that such a precious life could have been ended by selfish indulgent adults, though I know it happens sadly all too often.
Still, we do our job. It soon becomes clear that the guy charged with holding on to our tiny patient is in no way related, completely drunk and wholly incapable of anything that could be described as care. He doesn't even know the little girl's last name. Hell, he doesn't even know his GIRLFRIEND'S last name. Jackass. He boards the ambulance as we load the child into her carseat strapped to the cot, but quickly gets turned right around again and ends up back on the street.
A short ride to the hospital with our distraught young patient, and the ED staff appear a bit confounded as to what to do. No family is available. While the Police assure us that DCFS has been called, they aren't here. No relatives have been found.
I pick up the little girl, hold her like I did my own daughter when she was that little. Rock and calm her until her sobs subside and she rests her head on my shoulder. I feel protective - I'm not ready to let her go to another set of strangers. We help the ED staff get her changed, assessed and examined, all the while I'm watching over and comforting her like my own scared child. When they're done I scoop her into my lap and rest her head in the crook of my arm, singing her songs I haven't sung in years until her tired, swollen eyes close and she slips off into a restful sleep.
At this point nothing else matters. I feel a calm and a sense of love for another human being that fills me up. All the BS calls and heartache of EMS disappear in this one pure moment where I can offer my patient nothing more than a safe, comfortable place to sleep.
It takes some time to locate a relative who can come get her. I spend it watching her breathe, feeling her warm little body wrapped up on my lap and hoping that her future will be brighter. That someone will care. That someone will take this huge responsibility seriously.
When it's time to give her up, it's hard to let go. In the space of a few short hours I've become attached, my emotions bound to her well-being. It's hard to imagine her ever being put back into the arms of the people that put her, alone, into my ambulance and my care. I can only hope (and this against big odds) that this will be a wakeup call for her mother, and that she will realize that she came close to losing such a precious, wonderful life.
Safe travels, little one.
Saturday, March 06, 2010
A good day
Had one of those calls today that makes you really happy to be a medic, and leaves you feeling like you made a difference.
We had a walk in at the station for a 35 year old woman with nausea, vomiting, diarrhea. This had all started at 7am very suddenly and she had been going at one end or the other constantly for several hours. Normally not such an emergent issue, but the patient was a diabetic and multiple transplant patient, so her situation was very different. Possibly one of the harder IV sticks I've ever had to make, but clearly a patient who needed IV fluids and meds quite badly. I ended up getting a 22ga in a vein on her finger. A first for me, but it was patent and flowed well. Some zofran (love that drug), D50 and a fluid bolus got her back into a much happier place. I later found out from the ED nurse that they had continued to use my sketchy little 22ga for the rest of the day and given her another 2L of fluid through it. Nice ! After lots more antiemetics, fluid and some fentanyl she was stabilized. Her labs revealed some pretty major metabolic derangements, so she'll be admitted for IV therapy and observation.
We had a walk in at the station for a 35 year old woman with nausea, vomiting, diarrhea. This had all started at 7am very suddenly and she had been going at one end or the other constantly for several hours. Normally not such an emergent issue, but the patient was a diabetic and multiple transplant patient, so her situation was very different. Possibly one of the harder IV sticks I've ever had to make, but clearly a patient who needed IV fluids and meds quite badly. I ended up getting a 22ga in a vein on her finger. A first for me, but it was patent and flowed well. Some zofran (love that drug), D50 and a fluid bolus got her back into a much happier place. I later found out from the ED nurse that they had continued to use my sketchy little 22ga for the rest of the day and given her another 2L of fluid through it. Nice ! After lots more antiemetics, fluid and some fentanyl she was stabilized. Her labs revealed some pretty major metabolic derangements, so she'll be admitted for IV therapy and observation.
Bummer
44 yom with hypertension and a previous history of stroke (after uncontrolled hypertension). Not much I could do for him really. What a sucky thing to deal with at that age.
29 yom with bleeding from 'down there', which in my esteemed opinion was as a result of overzealous prescription of steroids for a shoulder injury the week before. Really underscores the point how strong this type of drug can be, and while it can work wonders on some things it can also be very destructive to other parts of your body (especially the GI as in this case).
29 yom with bleeding from 'down there', which in my esteemed opinion was as a result of overzealous prescription of steroids for a shoulder injury the week before. Really underscores the point how strong this type of drug can be, and while it can work wonders on some things it can also be very destructive to other parts of your body (especially the GI as in this case).
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Good Friday
Well, for me anyway. Good to be busy, not so good for my patients. Start the day with a DIB that turns out to be a rapid AF, chest discomfort. FOUR people on the ambulance today - way too many - makes us look like the Keystone Cops all piling out at the scene. Still, sometimes with larger patients more hands makes light work.
Second call for a 'suspected' untimely. Cold, very dead and asystole in two leads. I hope she went peacefully, and sometimes I wish people would call earlier and not suffer through something expecting it'll go away.
Round out the day with a pair of patients who were getting by during the snow fuelled power outages with a gas generator. Guess what ? CO of 80ppm in your house from the exhaust getting in through your vent will not have a good outcome. Fortunate that one of them got outside and passed out, prompting the other to call for help. Could have had a VERY different outcome.
Second call for a 'suspected' untimely. Cold, very dead and asystole in two leads. I hope she went peacefully, and sometimes I wish people would call earlier and not suffer through something expecting it'll go away.
Round out the day with a pair of patients who were getting by during the snow fuelled power outages with a gas generator. Guess what ? CO of 80ppm in your house from the exhaust getting in through your vent will not have a good outcome. Fortunate that one of them got outside and passed out, prompting the other to call for help. Could have had a VERY different outcome.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Looooong transfer
Somehow I got roped into doing a transfer to a hospital in NYC. Left the station at 8am, drove to the hospital to get our patient and then drove 263 miles south. Fortunately the traffic gods (not to mention the 250k mile engine gods) smiled upon us, and we made good time. It's definitely a different experience navigating both the streets and the hospitals in New York City. Not one that I think I'd like to experience on a daily basis - so I take my hat off to those that do.
After spending a half an hour and several incorrect direction assists later, we finally find out where we are supposed to go and thankfully deposit our patient in his room. As we leave he gives me a pleading look and says 'Please - take me back with you..'. I'd say if I were in his position, I wouldn't have wanted to stay there either.
Anyway, no sightseeing for this crew as we get the hell out of Gotham as fast as possible with only a small delay on the Bruckner Expressway. I always breathe easier when I'm outside city limits, and even easier still once I'm north of Massachusetts.
My back was absolutely killing me after 10 hours sitting in a crappy, cramped, broken ambulance seat. Remind me never to agree to this kind of thing again.
After spending a half an hour and several incorrect direction assists later, we finally find out where we are supposed to go and thankfully deposit our patient in his room. As we leave he gives me a pleading look and says 'Please - take me back with you..'. I'd say if I were in his position, I wouldn't have wanted to stay there either.
Anyway, no sightseeing for this crew as we get the hell out of Gotham as fast as possible with only a small delay on the Bruckner Expressway. I always breathe easier when I'm outside city limits, and even easier still once I'm north of Massachusetts.
My back was absolutely killing me after 10 hours sitting in a crappy, cramped, broken ambulance seat. Remind me never to agree to this kind of thing again.
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