Skip to content

Archives for firefighter

See all posts in the network tagged with firefighter

Grumblemedics

View Comments

Grumblemedics, you know them. You’ve seen them. Heck, you may even be one. Whether they’re a Grumble Pee or a Grumble Bee, there’s an apparent glut of them in the profession and I’d like to know why. See, to me, EMS is the greatest job in the world. Sure, there’s the great pay and benefits, but there’s also the great hours, plentiful time off, and comfortable ergonomic working environment. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been just left with a warm-fuzzy feeling after a shift…

Ok, so that could have been an exaggeration, I know that there are things in this profession that just plain ol’ stink. But I gotta tell you, EMS really is my favorite job. I really can’t imagine doing anything else. While there are times in my career that I’ve wondered if it was an abusive, co-dependent type of relationship, I realize that I would not want to be anything other than a paramedic.

So why does it seem like there are so many Grumblemedics? Could it be the long hours with little chance of getting a day off? Could it be the fact that we must get up at all hours of the night to take care of someone in better shape than we are? Tangent: The other day another crew transported a person with a chief complaint of “Dry Feet”. When they asked him if he really wanted transported, he said “Yeah! I got dry feet!” Or, the one last night where a woman had an NSAID pain patch fall off at 4am and called us because she thought that she was going into withdrawal. End Tangent.

OK, heck with the ending the tangents. There are a whole heck of a lot of calls that can be filed under “They called us for THAT!?” Why do people do this? Why? I mean, I’ve been called for things that I wouldn’t even take an aspirin for more times in my career that I can count (And I know that’s more than ten because I have ten fingers and if you think that I’m going to take off my boots after working in them for all of these 24 hour shifts you’re nuts). Why do people call us when they have a muscle cramp? Why did the guy call me when he got a fish hook in his finger? Why do people who happen to be type 1 diabetics drink themselves into a stupor and then call me first thing in the morning to wake them up? Seriously, I once spent a few months going to some guy’s house every shift bright and early in the morning to squirt him with a little D50 and he’d sign the refusal that would send him on his way. It ended when we began putting him on the cot and starting to drive to the ER before we sugared him up. He’d wake up in the rig just as we were backing into the bay doors and be mad at US for transporting him. Sorry guy, but you obviously need more help than we can give you.

So, there may be times in my career that I’ve been a Grumble Pee, but that might be expected. Heck, if I worked in a factory I’d probably be complaining about the lack of adequate ventilation and the fact that I couldn’t sit in the crew lounge and watch TV for a few hours of my shift. We all complain about things we can’t change or our own perceptions of injustice. I would guess that any profession has those things that the people in the profession just hate. Heck, would any of us want to work retail during the holidays? They don’t even get to jab strangers with sharp objects or have their own keys to the leather restraints.. Now THAT would suck.

You know what my absolute, all-time, worst pet-peeve is in EMS? No? I’ll bet you don’t care either but this is my rant and you can’t seem to stop me. My biggest, all-time, worst pet-peeve in EMS is: People who don’t call us when they need us. Yep, I would gladly take a hundred 3am “lost condom” calls rather than have one potential patient have that occult MI and lose any percentage more of heart muscle than they have to because they didn’t want to call EMS and bother us. You see, I work in rural EMS these days where people are nice, and they don’t want to bother their local EMS service with getting up out of their chairs, and they don’t want to bother their neighbors with having to look out their windows at the pretty flashing lights, and they really don’t think that the fact that the left side of their body is numb is any reason to be alarmed. These non-calls that should have been calls bother me more than any of them, and we all grumblemedics are somewhat on the hook here.

If you’ve read any of what I’ve written, you’ve probably seen my statement that “PR Saves Lives”. It means that the more positive Public Relations an ambulance agency has, the more people trust them, and the more people are apt to call them when they truly need them. I haven’t seen studies on what an effective PR program does in reducing so-called “nuisance calls”, but I have seen recent studies that say like 60% of patients having heart attacks make their first call to a friend or family member upon the onset of their crushing chest pain. I’m here to tell ya, I’m jealous. I want to get that call.

So maybe grumblemedics like I probably will be about an hour from now when someone calls me at 3am for something that I would take pepto-bismol for need to remember that we are blessed to do this job, and that EMS professionals need to approach this business with the heart of a servant. Because that’s what we are. We aren’t here for our health, we’re here for everyone’s health. Sometimes people get scared and call us because they’re scared and it is our job to make them feel better by telling them they don’t have to be scared anymore. Sometimes we need to haul them in so someone with a whole-heckovalotta medical education can tell them that same thing. I decided a long time ago that if I ever got to a point in my life where I had to call the ambulance just so I could get some human contact because my real chief complaint was loneliness that I didn’t need some punk kid with a pulse and a medic card judging me.

Us grumblemedics need to realize that the nuisance calls are never going to go away. We’ve got to realize that there are, however, ways to combat them:

  • Check your Ego at the Door: You serve the public. Not the other way around. You are blessed and dang lucky to be the person that this person asked to take care of them in their or their loved one’s hour of perceived need and you best not forget it, because your mental health is at stake, and their life could be too. The best EMS people approach this job with a servant’s heart.
  • Evangelize EMS: You want the general public to know how to properly use EMS, right? Then what have you personally done to help teach them. Get out there and get the word out. Don’t hide in your station, or in the parking lot you’re posting in. Get the message out about what you’re there for, what you’re capable of, and how friendly you are while you are doing it.
  • Everything is PR: Every single, solitary thing an EMS person does affects the publics’ perception of them, their service, and the profession in general. Really. When you meet up with another crew for breakfast in the morning and talk about how wasted you got last night at the bar don’t think that the people around you aren’t listening. When you swear in public don’t think that the kids who are looking up to you in your shiny uniforms with your neat big truck aren’t filing that away. Take your public image seriously. Exude professionalism at all times because it saves lives. The more comfortable everyone is with your professionalism affects how apt they are to call you first, call you fast, or call you at all in a life or death situation. That can make all the difference for a lot of potential patients.

There’s a lot more that every one of us can do, but I’m tired here and I still have the last 8 of my 24 to do be
fore I have to get up in the morning and do 8 hours with my other full-time job and then do a 4 hour training with my volunteer department. Hey! I have an idea!! Maybe if there weren’t so many grumblemedics and the public took a more positive view of our value to society we could maybe squeeze some more pennies out of them at budget time and get paid better so we wouldn’t have to have so many freakin jobs and work so many hours to feed our families! Yea, wouldn’t that be great!!

As always folks, comments and flames are welcome. Public commentary is most appreciated, but I may always be reached privately at: proems1@yahoo.com

Posted by Ckemtp on April 8, 2010 • Filed under: Ambulance, EMS, EMS Health & Safety, EMS Topics, EMS ethics, EMS rant, EMT, Fire department, Firefighter, PR, Paramedic, Public relations, first responder, friendly, grumblemedics

The Shine Factor

View Comments

 This is part 2 of a 3 part series on “The Shine Factor”

Part 1 of this series can be found here – The Shine Factor

Part 2 of this series can be found here – What Makes a Great Ambulance Service

Part 3 of this series can be found here – The Shine Factor – Grunts

—————————————————

You know what I’m talking about here. The distinctly subtle, but powerful mix of sights, smells, and sensory input you find when walking into the apparatus bay of your station. The faint smell of diesel exhaust mixing with rubber tires, the musty smell of damp hose drying on the rack, the smells of not-so-clean turnout gear (best right after a good fire), and all of the various cleaning products used to keep the trucks looking their best. My favorite is when I’m just walking in the station for start-of-shift. It’s about 6am and the guys before haven’t gotten up yet to turn on the lights in the bay or make noise. One of my favorite things to do is to walk around the bay with the lights off, with the sun just starting to glint in from the windows onto the dark floors. It’s quiet. I love the first sunlight making deep reflections off of the shiny paint and gleaming chrome. The trucks just seem to be anticipating the day, yearning for the next call to come in. The atmosphere is electric, and quite palpable. You could blindfold me and take me into any fire station in the country and I could identify it just by smell alone. It’s intoxicating. I think that I like it more than my fiance’s perfume. It’s ok, she’s a firefighter too. She gets it.

So, what I’m about to suggest here plays off of that knowledge that we’ve all got… It’s basically an EKG hooked right up to the morale of your organization. I call it the “Shine Factor”.

Fancy name, huh? Yea, I liked it too. I’d recommend that every person who works in any fire station or ambulance base walks into the apparatus bay every time they start their shift. Don’t go in through any other door. Walk right into the apparatus bay with the memory of the favorite time you’ve ever been there. Take a big whiff of the natural aroma and look to see how much your trucks shine. Check the corners for cobwebs too. Then, simply file the information away in your brain and know exactly how the morale of the troops is doing.

Why is this so simple, yet so powerful, and a lot of the time, so unnoticeable? It’s because every organization has grunts, and the grunts carry out the day-to-day operations of your organization. No matter how many policies are written, budgets are adhered to, or strategic plans are championed by administration, the grunts are out there actually performing the duties that make your organization do what it does. If your department is like every department in the country, the grunts have more tasks than just providing service to the public; they’re responsible for cleaning, maintenance, and upkeep of your equipment. The lower and more “gruntish” they are within the organization, the more responsible for the upkeep they are. This is where the Shine Factor comes into play. Every group has assigned or assumed maintenance and cleaning tasks. Administration can formalize it with all of the written plans, paperwork, and task sheets that they want to, but all those pieces of paper ever do is ensure that the tasks are done to the minimally acceptable level. They cannot and will not make the grunts put in the elbow grease required to get that extra shine out of the equipment. My theory is that only happiness and pride in the organization entice the grunts to go above and beyond, to put the extra few swipes with the rag onto the chrome to really bring the shine out. Think about it, when you complete a task and get it looking good enough to pass muster, you could stop… but if you really have the pride and desire to make the equipment look it’s best, you’re going to go get the magic cleaner in the storeroom and clean out the crust around the lug nuts to make it look perfect, to reflect the personal pride you have in the organization and your fellow grunts.

Do you think that the grunts will spend those extra few seconds, minutes (or in my case, hours.. but I’m obsessive) to make that floor it’s cleanest, or that chrome it’s shiniest if they’re ticked off about management’s latest asinine policy or off the cuff directive? I don’t. It’s human nature. It works on a subconscious level across all of the grunts you have who polish your stuff. If the morale of your department is in the tank, your stuff may be cleaned regularly because the grunts will be sanctioned if they don’t clean off the first layer of crud… but that’s usually where it stops. When morale goes down, the shine factor goes down. When morale goes up and people are uplifted, pride goes up and the grunts put forth the extra effort. It affects more than their performance at the station too, it affects how polite they are to the public, how clean and pressed their uniforms and presentation are reflecting your public image, it affects how much personal effort they put into training, and it may very well affect patient and emergency scene outcomes too. You can regulate all that you want, but the beatings never improve morale. The only things that can do that is respecting your grunts and treating them like adults.

I haven’t formally named it, but I think that new officers and/or managers in the EMS and Fire industry who were promoted from the troops arrive to their new posts with a predetermined agenda. I don’t think that they can help it. Usually, it’s from the mistakes they’ve seen their coworkers make on the streets around them and builds especially upon their own pet peeves. They arrive to their managerial desk wanting to “fix” things and usually the result is a lot of new policy objectives and memos. They know who, at least subconsciously, they want to get back at for the aggravation that they’ve caused them over the years and think that the rest of the organization will share their personal pet peeve. Unfortunately, these attempts to “fix” things usually do just the opposite. The new managers with their personal objectives take things to the extreme. They fail to respect that the people who committed the offenses against the manager’s pet peeves are concerned adults that may have very different pet peeves, and they fail to recognize that every single employee’s pet peeve is micromanagement.

To some managers, paper seems to solve everything. If your ambulance turn-around times are too long in your opinion, you create a paper system to fix it complete with a memo and/or a new policy. The crews fill it out, and it’s supposed to make the management and crews aware of the time it takes them and it’s supposed to fix the problem. Got dirty floors in the trucks? Make a “clean floor” policy with a tracking sheet. Got a crew who uses too much gauze? Make a “Gauze Utilization” flowchart with a tracking sheet. Does your station go through too much toilet paper? You see what I mean. While all management wants to create measurable objectives, all employees hate being micromanaged.

Shortly after I got my first management position my boss, the COO, related to me a story about what he did one day when he found a truck that had been left absolutely filthy by a crew after their shift. Apparently this crew hadn’t been running more than usual that day, and had just left the ambulance filthy. Now, what he could have done, being the COO and all, is write an edict to be handed down through the chain-of-command to have the crew reprimanded from on high about the clean truck policy and the proper utilization of cleaning materials. He could have written a memorandum, or even a shiny new “Clean Truck” policy to enforce the rules. There could have been reams of paper and managerial-type fire power brought down on these guys. But that’s not what he did.

When the crew who had left the truck that dirty came back in for their day shift the next morning the COO met them at the door and lead them to their ambulance. At their ambulance they found a whole host of cleaning supplies… and two chairs. The COO then proceeded to have the medics sit in the chairs while he cleaned their entire ambulance, inside and out, from top to bottom.

Unorthodox? Sure.. Effective? Yes. The problem had been attended to, the desire for a clean
truck was reinforced, and the crews saw just how badly the COO wanted the trucks to be cleaned. Now maybe that’s not something that would work at your department, but it sure seemed to at this ambulance service. Maybe your shine factor would be increased if the grunts got the chance to work with the brass on solving problems like this. Maybe myriad policies aren’t the answer, and teamwork and mutual respect are the answer. Maybe communication increases it. Maybe the full realization by everyone within the organization that everyone has their roles and everyone has to be given the tools to take responsibility for what they own increases it.

Until now, this piece has focused on management, but us grunts can benefit from increased shine factor as well. Right now, you need to decide that you’re going to put in the effort to increase the shine factor in your department. Remember, it’s a subconscious thing. Everyone just feels better when it looks like people are taking pride in the department. Everyone from your partner, the guys, the brass, the public… even you. If the grunts make the effort, it can benefit the shine factor too and maybe the other stuff will come along with it. Positive attitudes breed positive results. It sounds corny, but someone’s gotta make the decision to be the positive change in the organization. Even in a perfect situation, if there even is one, someone’s gotta keep making the decision to keep it that way. Let that be you and others will follow suit.

Now get out there and polish some chrome.

——————————————————————-

 This is part 2 of a 3 part series on “The Shine Factor”

Part 1 of this series can be found here – The Shine Factor

Part 2 of this series can be found here – What Makes a Great Ambulance Service

Part 3 of this series can be found here – The Shine Factor – Grunts

Posted by Ckemtp on February 28, 2010 • Filed under: Administration & Leadership, Ambulance, Ambulance maintenance, Command & Leadership, EMS, EMS Health & Safety, EMS Management, EMS Motivation, EMS Topics, EMS pep talk, EMT, Emergency Medical Services, Fire Rescue Topics, Fire department, Firefighter, Firefighter Safety & Health, Management, PR, Paramedic, Public relations, ems 2.0, pride, profession, professionalism

Splashed Sadness – A look at negative emotions in EMS

View Comments

WARNING TO NON-EMS PEOPLE: This post is pretty emotional. If you’re not emotionally equipped to handle really sad descriptions of EMS calls, don’t read it.

Here’s a revelation: EMS People are better suited to handling sadness than are laypeople. Of course we are. Not because we are necessarily any emotionally stronger than anyone else but because we have experience in dealing with it. As anyone could see, a good number of the situations we respond to and either assist with or observe are really sad. In my decade or so of riding the ambulances I have come across more situations than I could possibly remember that I wouldn’t want to casually discuss outside of the industry for fear of really making laypeople very uncomfortable. A story that might turn into a running joke among your colleagues might just depress a layperson for weeks.

Like all medics, I have my coping mechanisms and some of them are healthier than the others, they include sarcasm, dark humor, clean humor, Tanqueray martinis dirty and dry up with three olives, blogging, fishing, picking on my soon-to-be wife (9 days till the nuptials as of today!), playing with my boy, fishing, MGD, cigars, and sarcasm. There are a few other things in there too, I’m a rich tapestry.

This blog gets read by mostly EMS people, but there are public people out there that read me too. For both of your benefit, I’m going to relate some stories here of calls that I’ve personally attended to over the years:

  • A 16yo male takes his 24yo soon-to-be brother in law out into the city for the 24yo’s bachelor party. On the way home, they’re both just obliterated after drinking all night. The 16yo boy is driving home and is going way too fast to notice the semi hauling gravel that pulls into the right hand lane of the 4-lane road they’re driving on. The kid notices it at the last second, swerving just in time to impact the passenger side of the car against the back of the semi trailer. The impact shears off the left side of the 24yo’s skull, popping out the left side of his brain and leaving it, mostly intact, in between the front seats of the car (I almost put my knee into it). The 24yo dies a not-so-immediate death (I don’t want to get into it. Hopefully it was mostly painless). I pronounced the 24yo dead and took care of this very intoxicated 16yo. He was barely able to comprehend the terror of the situation and was covered in blood and brains that formerly belonged to the man his sister was going to marry. He was unhurt but I ran him into the hospital anyway. How could I leave him there immersed in the terror of that scene, in the terror of what he was more or less responsible for?

     

  • A 19yo male comes home from the military and his friends throw him a house party. During the party the 19yo takes his 18yo male friend down to the basement of the house to show the friend a new pistol that the 19yo brought home with him. The friend takes the gun to look at it and playfully twirls it around his finger ‘Old West’ style in an attempt to be cool. When he does, the gun fires, shooting the friend from the chin through the top of the skull. When I got to him, he was still breathing and had a strong pulse however it was mostly his brain stem that was controlling the reflex. Most of his brain was splattered on the basement floor. We worked him, transported him to the trauma center, and I believe that they were able to harvest his organs.

     

  • A man and his wife of upwards of twenty years are just bumming around the house on a nondescript weekday. It’s about lunch time and they’re going to eat at home before they go to the wife’s doctor appointment. The wife gets up to make sandwiches, gets to the counter, and slumps to the floor. She never woke up. We worked her very hard, but her heart had just decided that it had reached its allotted number of lifetime beats.

The above short summaries of calls that I’ve been to are sad. There’s no joke that can make them not sad. If you read this, there are two reactions I expect from you here:

  • For non-medical people: You’ve related these stories to yourself. You may be crying. You’ll think about them and your heart will go out to the unfortunate people involved. You’re sad.

     

  • For EMS People: Don’t these sound like good calls? They were. Yep, they were sad and I felt very bad for the people that were involved. Good calls though. What’s for lunch?

I think I remember what I did after the above three calls. I think that it was profound although my memory is pretty foggy after all these years. After the first one, I cleaned up the truck and actually got to sleep the rest of the night. After the second I cleared and went to a few more calls and then had lunch. After the third I um, had lunch because it was lunch time.

EMS people can probably know what I’m talking about here. I call it “The Howl”. It’s the sound that a family member makes after you’ve transported their close loved one to the hospital where the patient is pronounced dead by the ER Doc before the family gets there. So there you are, cleaning your equipment while the ER staff makes the sad announcement to the family. Here comes The Howl of anguish that the family member makes when they hear the news. I’ve heard it time after time in hospital after hospital. It’s loud. It’s haunting. It haunts my dreams some nights. I say that The Howl is an example of direct sadness. Direct Sadness is the pain/sorrow/anguish/horror that a person feels when they are a primary person in the situation. In my position of hearing The Howl after working the patient and unsuccessfully trying to save their life I experience Indirect Sadness. For the coworkers that I tell the story to and the readers of this blog, “Splashed Sadness” is the term I use. I think that “Splashes Sadness” is what a person experiences when hearing a terribly sad story like that.

In this business, Splashed Sadness is everywhere. It is one of the hallmarks of professional EMS. Think about it like this, I will always remember a conversation that happened between a group of coworkers and me one nondescript morning some time ago. They told the story of a college age male that overdosed on illegal drugs, stopped breathing, and was resuscitated from asystole (flat-line) by the paramedic that was telling the story. He mentioned that the fiancé of the patient was in the ER with the most-probably brain-dead patient and was holding the patient’s hand and telling anyone that happened by that they were supposed to get married that weekend. He said that she just kept repeating “We’re getting married this weekend” over and over again.

The sadness contained in that story splashed on to me and I’ve remembered it to this day. It will probably be there tomorrow too…

I responded by asking if they recommended that she cancel the caterer. Then there were fart jokes and wrestling (It was an all male crew that day). That’s how I dealt with the splashed sadness. I try not to get any of it on me and I try to psychologically squeegee any of it that I do get on me off as quickly as possible by interjecting humor and sarcasm into the situation. Extreme humor to deal with extreme sadness.

EMS people gain experience in dealing with negative emotions and sadness through all of these routes, direct, indirect, and splashed. While I have dealt with Direct sadness in cases of the deaths of close loved ones including my father, I don’t want to deal with any more. I get indirect sadness a lot of the days that I show up for work, and splashed sadness happens every dang time I talk to a coworker or discuss a bad call with a peer. I’m splashing sadness on you all right now as you read the above stories. If you’re an EMS person, you can deal with the splashing. If you’re a layperson, I’m very sorry for doing that to you but I did warn you before you started reading. My theory is that the more experience you
get with sadness, the better equipped you are to deal with it.

Or you go nuts.

Or you go nuts and start blogging and drinking martinis like I did.

Maybe I’ll get credit in a psychology journal for coining “Splashed Sadness” in EMS.

 

Posted by Ckemtp on February 16, 2010 • Filed under: Ambulance, CISD, EMS, EMS Health & Safety, EMS Topics, EMS ethics, EMS pep talk, EMT, Emergency Medical Services, Fire Rescue Topics, Fire department, Firefighter, Firefighter Safety & Health, In the Line of Duty, Paramedic, bad calls, emotions, inside the mind of a paramedic, paramedic education, psychology, sadness, safety

Equipment Review: Scary Post Ahead

View Comments

This was one of my first posts. Since I’m attending an EMS conference, I figured it deserved a bump-up too. Good Luck!

Some of you have been telling me: “Chris, you’re a good paramedic. You should be providing tips and tricks for EMS people so that they can use your hard-won wisdom to improve their patient care. Don’t spend your time ranting about things that bother you in the back of the truck and keep making feeble attempts to make people laugh. Write a serious article, darn it!!”

Actually, I’m really the only one that’s been telling me that, since this blog is only read by like, six people including my mother, fiancé, and my cat… but nonetheless I am going to attempt a serious piece regarding actual patient care issues. As such, I have identified piece of equipment that is carried on my ambulance and is most probably carried on every ambulance in the country. This particular piece of patient care equipment is rarely used, yet critical for patient care when needed. When this piece of equipment is called for, the patient needs it and needs it NOW. Yet, I’m sure that even the most experienced EMTs and Paramedics are struck with horror at the mere thought of its use.

I’m talking here about: The bedpan.

Yes, in my storied career I have been called upon to use a bedpan more often than I would have liked to. The situation is almost always the same, the patient is otherwise stable but the pressures of the bumpy ride on the human bowels are just too much for him or her during the prolonged transport time. Usually in complicated cases like these I prefer to bring along a nurse, since they are eminently more qualified to perform in these critical patient care scenarios. However, as is often the case in EMS, we are called upon to take care of any patient presentation in any patient population and must perform professionally in all situations. I have researched the use of this piece of patient equipment in numerous trade publications and critical care guides and have been struck with the lack of educational materials available for this critical patient care skill.

So, as any EMS writer would do when setting out to write a patient care article, I hit the streets to query other paramedics and EMTs on their secrets for the proper use of the bedpan. I began with the coworkers I have at my two ambulance jobs, one a private, not-for-profit city 911/Specialty Care Transport service and the other a Fire Department based service. Both of them work around 3000 calls per year and run at the ALS level. Here is a sampling of the responses I received:

Question: By a show of hands, how many of you have used a bedpan in the back of an ambulance??

Answer: I raised my hand.

Some of the people there wanted me to clarify the question, they wanted to know if I meant had THEY themselves personally used a bedpan in the back of an ambulance? One guy admitted to using a urinal in the back while transporting a patient. When badgered by the other providers, he clarified by saying that it “was a pretty long trip”. I offered that there have been some situations in my career where I have put the bedpan under a patient who absolutely HAD to go poopie during a trip to the hospital. However, and I just realized that this is the most blessed thing to ever happen to me ever, not one of them has ever been able to “go” with me hovering over them.

Of course, in EMS, I have been covered with every imaginable bodily fluid, including the unholy trinity of urine, vomit, and feces ALL AT THE SAME TIME. And I have plans to erect a statue to the person who came up with the idea of prehospital people administering Zofran (an anti-throw up medication). The other day I spent a few minutes starting a saline lock IV on a lady in her bed inside her apartment just so that I could give her that blessed medication. My fairly new EMT partner wanted to know why I did that, when I usually wait until we’re back in the truck. I let him know that I had been on the foot end of the stair chair going down the stairs before the golden-age of zofran had arrived.

Yes, us “experienced” EMS providers (read: old people who never got real jobs) will tell you that when you can’t let go of the end of the stair chair without letting your patient plummet down a full flight of stairs and the patient chooses THAT EXACT MOMENT to decide that they just *have* to throw up. You well, you just have to close your eyes, close your mouth, lower your face to cover your nostrils, and take it like a true professional. Been there, done that, cleaned the chicken and rice out of my ears with a q-tip. It’s moments like that when you reevaluate your commitment to the profession, and realize that it must be something other than the *interesting* amount of money that they pay you that keeps you coming to work every day. For me, it’s the amount of time that I get to spend typing up articles about bedpans and vomit in my ears… at least it is right now. Has anyone else ever thought that they had been ruined by EMS? I mean, I don’t think that I could ever do an office job. Years of EMS work has left me with the remarkable ability to begin to focus on something like a laser beam for 90minutes tops, then… Hey look!! A Bunny!!

Oh yea, bedpans. So you slide them under the patient and um… Pray that they’re positioned correctly. Wear correct BSI including a pair of gloves, a mask, goggles, and Vick’s Vapo-Rub under your nostrils. Of course, for us old timers, this is required even when you’re making your partner use the bedpan in the back while you drive (heh) Ever So Carefully to your destination. Tell your partner that they need the experience, tell them how professional they are being and tell them that they’re showing true compassion to the patient. Then go out and buy them an ice cream cone filled with Rocky Road. With any luck, you’ll get to eat that too when they suddenly become less than hungry.

In all seriousness, everyone poops. Never let your patient suffer when you can alleviate their suffering with a simple slide of the bedpan under their derriere. Of course, make sure that they REALLY have to go to lessen your risk of contaminating yourself with some really funky pathogens, and also to avoid ticking off the nurses’ lobby by taking their jobs.

Until next time…

 

Posted by Ckemtp on January 23, 2010 • Filed under: Ambulance, Bed pan, Bed pans, EMS, EMS Health & Safety, EMS Humor, EMS Topics, EMS ethics, EMT, Ethics, Fire Rescue Topics, Fire department, Firefighter, Paramedic, bedpan, everyday ems ethics, odansetron, puke, zofran

Cat Puke Chicken

View Comments

Note: This is a repost. I’ve been a busy blogger and this post deserved a bump-up. Also, the “Fiance” in this post is now my lovely wife. Enjoy.

——————————

The other day I got off shift at 8am and had to be to work at my other full-time job at 10am. Since both of the jobs that I work at are about a half hour from my house in opposite directions it worked out that I had about a half hour to go home, perform the personal hygiene ritual, change uniforms, and get on my way to work again. So I did that, got home, fed the cat, and got all prettied up as quickly as I could. Then, without warning, on my way out of the house I noticed it: A pile of cat puke on my rug.

Yes, I like cats. I have one. She’s a keeper, regardless of her regurgitation issues. I think that I’m more of a man because I love my fluffy-wuffy lil’ Kitty-Witty. So cat puke on my rug isn’t the horror of horrors to me that it might be to some people. In EMS, we tend to get puked on by humans more often than does the regular population and that fact may have further desensitized me to the violent act of emesis perpetrated on my rug by my mostly cute little kitty. However, I do like a clean house and the cat puke on my rug is an issue that normally warrants immediate action.

But of course, that’s not what happened. And for those of you in a spousal relationship with another human being you know exactly what I did. You guessed it, I left the cat puke on my carpet and went to work. For those of you who are not in a spousal relationship with another human you may not understand the thought process here. Yes, as I looked down at the cat puke on my otherwise (mostly) spotless rug the thought that it must be immediately cleaned up did in fact occur to me; but the other thought that occurred to me was: “I can leave and go to work and when I get home, my lovely fiancé will have cleaned this up for me. She’ll think that the cat puked on the rug *after* I went to work and I’ll get off scot free!”

And so that’s what I did. Yes, I *could* have taken the five or so minutes it would have taken to clean up the cat puke… but in my defense I’m a model employee and I need those extra five minutes of early arrival time at work to drink coffee and to tell everyone what a model employee I am. So if I would have cleaned it up I would have taken the risk of not being such a model employee. So you see, leaving the cat puke for my lovely, beautiful, and remarkably intelligent fiancé (who will probably read this, btw) to clean up was not something that I did because I’m lazy. It was something I did so I could continue to bring home the bacon for my family in the most productive manor possible.

That’s what I thought anyway, until I came home late that night after a hard day’s 10 hour shift off of a hard fought 24 hour shift spent saving lives and alleviating the suffering of the sick and injured and stepped in the same pile of cat puke on my carpet that I had courageously not cleaned up the morning before. True, she had put in a paltry 12 hour shift at the fire department practicing for the recliner racing 500 and had fed, bathed, and put our son to bed; but that didn’t stop my obviously well-earned righteous indignation to the pile of cat puke permeating my pile covered floor. She had decided (although she swears that she did not in fact see the pile of puke) that I should be the one to clean up the cat puke using some amount of flimsy logic that I have yet to understand.

So, to tie the above 646 words back into the title of the piece, “Cat Puke Chicken” is not the new special at your local Chinese Restaurant. It is the battle of wills that solidified between my fiancé and I as soon as my sock made contact with partially digested Kitty Kibble. We both subconsciously agreed to ignore the cat puke for as long as we could stand it in order to have the other person clean it up first. (See also: “Laundry Chicken”, “Last Sip of Milk in the Carton Chicken”, and “Couples’ Counseling”). This occurs a lot, unfortunately, in most relationships between other perfectly rational human beings. We know that we don’t like having cat puke on our carpeting; we obviously know that the cat puke should be cleaned up at the first available opportunity; and we also have continued doing the other things that we normally do to keep our houses from turning into slovenly hovels. In fact, while this has been going on I have cleaned numerous dishes, laundered, dried, and folded at least four loads of laundry, and have started (but not finished) three household improvement projects. I’m at least as good as a housekeeper as the next guy (Read: Not a good housekeeper) and I do indeed do my best to keep my family and myself from living in squalor.

So why, as two perfectly rational adults who um, chose to work in EMS, are we locked into this powerful battle of powerful wills? In a word: “politics”. Not the kind of politics that provide the revenue stream for the myriad of cable news networks, but the politics of household supremacy that truly affect our day to day lives. This isn’t Senator So-and-So bloviating about the fact that pork in the stimulus bill is in fact, not pork… it’s me and the woman that I love and want to spend the rest of my life with deciding who shall be the designated Cat-Puke-Cleaner-Upper!! Pulse pounding stuff here.

And as with everything else, this got me thinking about politics in EMS.

Say you’re in a service way far away from anywhere where I work and you have a small volunteer squad that covers the areas that your service is not jurisdictionally bound to cover. Sure, your service would be glad to come if they called you, but somewhere back in history when the powers that be drew the political boundaries they decided that your service was not responsible to respond to the pleas for help that come from that particular geographic area. Suppose that your service just happens to be a small ALS service with two paramedic ambulances and a BLS ambulance on duty 24/7 and the other service was a BLS squad with volunteers coming from home and/or work. These volunteers are dedicated, caring individuals that want to do the best that they can for their friends and neighbors but work in a system where when a call for service comes out it takes about 20 to 25 minutes for the system to get an ambulance to the patient’s side. Say also that the service that you work for has your three ambulances and paramedics about 6 miles from their patients staffed and on duty but you can’t respond because the political system is such that you would be in trouble if you did so.

You may also relate to having that coworker in your EMS or Fire service that just isn’t up to par. They may be a basically qualified EMS provider through the state licensing body, but you still would cringe at the thought of that person responding to take care of anyone in your group of family or friends. They’re a provider that just doesn’t get it. Their care is substandard, their attitude is poor, and you can’t help but feel that the patients being “cared” for by this individual or crew aren’t getting the best medical care possible from your service. You’d want to say something, and normally would, but you’d become an outcast in your agency and would be looked down upon for blowing the whistle. Besides, even if you did the service is short handed and your management wouldn’t fix the problem anyhow because they need to staff the trucks.

Or maybe you can see that EMS in general is underfunded, underappreciated, and undereducated and you can’t shake the feeling that something has to be done to improve patient care industry-wide. You feel powerless to do so, but you’re angered every time you see a representation of bumbling ambulance drivers on TV, or see the local news completely mishandle a news story involving EMS, or especially when you look at your paltry pay check.

In all of the above cases, you’ve got cat puke on your rug and you’re hoping that somebody else is going to clean it up.

As EMS professionals, we know that there are myriad little political games that play out in each and every little jurisdiction a
cross the map. This service may not call this service for mutual aid because someone’s brother once stole a pumpkin from one of the other service member’s brother’s pumpkin patch. “Jim” may not provide good care, but you let it slide because he’s popular with the other crews. Sure, the local fire department gets a kajillion dollars more in funding than your EMS service does and runs like a tenth of the calls that you do, but that’s just the way it’s always been, right?

We need to step up as a profession and clean the cat puke from our carpet. Ignore the politics. Ignore the personal hurt feelings and the power plays. EMS is about the patient. It isn’t about you, or me, or that person down there. We exist solely to save lives and alleviate suffering in the people that we serve in the best possible way that we can. Nothing else matters more than that. So if you can see that cat puke on your rug, and I’m absolutely positive that you know exactly what I’m talking about no matter where you are, you probably have better things to do than be playing chicken. We all need to stand up and say that we are the Cat-Puke-Cleaner-Uppers and that quality EMS is our responsibility, no matter what little political games of chicken are going on. Our patients deserve nothing less.

(Fiance’s note: As of press time, the pile of cat puke on Chris’s floor is still intact solidifying into the fibers of the carpet)

 

Posted by Ckemtp on January 22, 2010 • Filed under: Administration & Leadership, Ambulance, Command & Leadership, EMS, EMS Humor, EMS Management, EMS Topics, EMS ethics, EMT, Emergency Medical Services, Ethics, Fire Rescue Topics, Fire department, Firefighter, Paramedic, ambulance humor, cat puke, edemse, everyday ems ethics, politics, relationships

Thanking Those who REALLY Deserve it – Merry Christmas

View Comments

I originally meant to post this during Thanksgiving, but this season seems appropriate enough. I love Christmas. It’s my most favorite time of year. I love family, friends, cooking, and giving gifts. I love Christmas parties, I love the fellowship, and I love being kind to everyone and having them not look at me strangely… ok *as* strangely as they do other times of the year.

And also, I tell people “Merry Christmas”. I don’t say “Happy Holidays”, “Happy Winder Holiday”, or “My lawyer sez to tell you ‘good luck”. If someone responds with “Happy Chanukah”, or “Happy Kwanza”, or “Happy MishMash Shaloob” I’m not offended by it and I’m happy that they wished me the sentiment so there ya go.

Oh, and to my UK friends, Merry Frumpydumples to ye’

So what’s my Christmas post going to be? Well, it’s about thanking who’s really important to thank. As you all know, I’m a volunteer paramedic and firefighter as well as being a career paramedic and firefighter. This time of year in the small towns, it’s pretty common to have people stop by and offer up sweet treats and tell us “Thank you” for what we do for them. Let me make the blanket statement that I really appreciate it folks, even if my waist line and my pending diabetes doesn’t. However, I don’t think that I deserve your thanks.

I have always gotten more from my service to others than I could ever hope to give back to it. I love EMS and I love the Fire Department and I love helping people. I identify with it and I couldn’t imagine my life without it. Even after a solid decade of running my “Life Under the Lights” I can’t imagine doing anything else. I am rewarded a thousand times over by every smile I get, every person I comfort, and every person that I am privileged enough to come into contact with as a caregiver.

So who should the people that wish to thank us actually be thanking?

Well , first thank my wife for every time that I’ve had to get up and leave for a volunteer call in the middle of a family dinner. Thank my kid for every time that I’ve missed out on play time, or story time, or nap time because the pager called me away. Thank my family for all of the times that they’ve had to do without me because I was working mandatory overtime. Thank my wife too for all the nights she sleeps alone because I’m on a 24 and am sleeping at the station. Thank my friends for all the times that I’ve stood them up on plans because I’ve gotten stuck running calls. Thank everyone who cares that I spend time with them, because a lot of the time I could be doing that I’m off caring for everybody else.

Thank the same people for every volunteer or public safety person you know… because without the caring and understanding of the people that truly matter in life for us, we couldn’t be out there doing it for you. They’re the heroes here.

That, and one more thing. I was never in the Military and I probably should have been. This may not be much, but Thank You to all of our Military Men and Women out there serving for me and my family. I can’t write enough to say how much I deeply, and truly appreciate your sacrifice… but from the most humble part of my heart, Thank You for everything you do. The same thanks goes to your families and loved ones as well.

Merry Christmas, Every one.

Posted by Ckemtp on December 24, 2009 • Filed under: 2009, Ambulance, EMS, EMS Health & Safety, EMS Motivation, EMS Topics, EMS ethics, EMS pep talk, Emergency Medical Services, Fire Rescue Topics, Firefighter, Firefighter Safety & Health, In the Line of Duty, Line of Duty, News, Paramedic, appreciation, fire, pride, profession, professionalism

Everyday EMS Ethics – Social Media and “Smart” phones?

View Comments

Today I finally joined The Future™ and got up to speed with the latest technology 2006 has to offer by purchasing myself a shiny new BlackBerry Curve™ “Smart” phone. This thing is SO COOL! I can access my tweets, my facey page, and all of my other online stuff right through it AT ALL TIMES. It’s not an overload, really… I like carrying on 14 conversations at once… at all times. Really I do.

This new addition to my arsenal of cool tech gadgets got me thinking about a story I heard somewhere about a young firefighter/EMT that ran into a bit of trouble with one of these things. Incidentally, this story could have come from any public safety agency anywhere these days, so you probably don’t know whom I’m speaking of here, but if you think you do then go kick that person in the butt for me.

Anyway, this young firefighter/EMT was a full-fledged, “smart” phone carryin’ member of The Future™. Like any good young member, he was fully invested in Social Media. This firefighter/EMT responded to an incident scene and thought that a picture of the incident would make excellent fodder to post on one of the social media sites that he participated in. So, he snapped the picture with his “smart” phone and immediately posted it on the social media site. Appended to the photo he put what undoubtedly was an especially witty and thoughtful comment related to the person(s) who caused the incident.

Thus ensued “all hell” being brought down upon this young firefighter/EMT by the upper echelons of his fire department. Turns out that the Chief, the Assistant Chief, and a number of his coworkers were “friends” of this young firefighter/EMT and were immediately notified of what he’d posted on the social media site. They were not amused in the least and did not find the humor in the especially witty comment that he’d posted with the picture.

I agree with the Chief on this one. Let me be the first one to expound upon the virtues of social media in EMS and Fire. The fact that you’re here reading this is a testament to its potential to positively influence our profession and our interactions with the public and each other. However, its potential to tarnish our image if used irresponsibly is there as well. This case was an example of that.

I never did get a chance to see the picture, but from what I heard of the case the picture did not involve any personally identifiable information. Locals could have seen the picture and identified it, so could those involved of course, but it didn’t violate any laws that I know of.

What it did violate, are the ethical standards in which we operate under. Public safety people respond to incident scenes where we see things not meant for public viewing every day. We’re all familiar, I hope, with HIPAA and the various other privacy laws that we operate under, but we also need to be aware of the ethical standards that guide our interactions with private information.

When I got into this business, the metaphor that we used was “The Coffee Shop”. We were told to keep our shop talk behind closed doors within the service, and not go down to the local coffee shop where people could hear us talk. In the small town I lived in, everybody knew everybody and everybody had a scanner. Even if one of our guys was talking about “This Person” who had had some type of medical condition or had injured themselves in a spectacular way, everyone would know whom he was speaking of. Thusly, we didn’t go talking about what we saw out in the public. It wasn’t a legally mandated standard, it was an ethical standard of behavior that allowed the public to trust us and feel comfortable calling us in their hour of need. People won’t call us when they need us if they fear public embarrassment. Most people, that is.

Nowadays, it’s gotten complicated. With social media sites more popular than ever and showing no signs of slowing down, the impulse for some of our ranks to post information of an ethically non-public nature up there on the interwebz can be irresistible. With my “smart” phone in my pocket at all times, I have an express lane to career ruin right there at my fingertips. All I have to do is act irresponsibly one time with a photo, comment, or post and my career is finished.
And I remember and respect that. 

Professionally Ethical behavior requires that we separate our professional lives from our personal ones. While it would have been no big deal for Joe-Public-Came-Across-An-Accident-Scene to snap a quick pic and send it off, it is a huge deal for a Professional Rescuer to do the same. We were called to the scene to help the people involved. Professional Ethics mandate we leave our personal feelings and personal lives at the station. If the public gets the perception that their personal business is going to be splashed across the interwebz by one of the people who came to help them, then I’ll bet that the public is going to be mad at that.

Just remember, folks. Friends and families of public safety people have always been interested in what we do out there. They always will be. With today’s ultra access into our personal lives that social media can bring, it’s easy for youngins to get carried away and violate the ethical standards on spreading private information. There’s a rule for this and technology hasn’t changed that rule. You don’t use your position of public trust to gain access to and spread private information.

Just don’t do it. Resist the urge and keep your career, and honor, intact.

Posted by Ckemtp on December 1, 2009 • Filed under: Administration & Leadership, EMS, EMS Topics, EMS ethics, Emergency Medical Services, Ethics, Fire Rescue Topics, Fire department, Firefighter, PR, Technology & Communications, edemse, everyday ems ethics, medical ethics, professionalism, technology-communications-ems-topics, whattaya do

The day I didn’t die – Firefighter Close Calls

View Comments

Laying prone on the quivering floor, I had been pushed down flat on my stomach by the searing heat and smoke. I was as terrified as I’d ever been as I frantically yanked and tugged on the inch-and-a-half hose line that was stretched down the basement stairs towards the engine company that had disappeared down the dark hole an eternity ago. What had started out as a small, concealed fire with light wispy smoke conditions had quickly deteriorated into this hellish, searing inferno that I was convinced was killing the three men below me.

Twenty minutes before this, my two man tanker company had been first on scene to this structure fire that had been dispatched while we were returning from a small brush fire. We were the closest unit and were first on scene. Light staffing that day caught us when this fire was reported during the height of our daytime volunteer shortage. These factors combined a two-man tanker company together with a two-man brush-truck company to make a primary search of the structure. The light smoke and little heat had lulled us into a false sense of security as we entered the single-family home. The concealed fire between the first floor and the basement caught us unaware. It spread quickly and weakened the floors we were standing on. When I found the first floor had been weakened, I sent out my partner to inform command as we were on the tanker and had no radio communications inside the structure. Unfortunately, another engine company with a hot-shot lieutenant arrived and, despite my fervent protestations to the contrary, he took his three firefighters down the stairs to the basement. I stayed to mark their exit.

Outside the air-horns sounded their three quick blasts, calling for an evacuation of the structure. I stayed, waiting for the crew to emerge from the staircase so that I could lead them to safety. They never showed. The intense heat burned me through my turnout gear as I screamed as loud as I was able through my SCBA mask into the abyss. I tugged on the hose and screamed at them to return, only taking a break to recognize the ringing of my low-air warning bell on my air tank. I had no idea how long it had been ringing, but when I noticed it, it was slow. Instead of a sharp ring, it was a slow ding that was getting slower as I was sucking as much air as I could to yell down the staircase.

This moment, this intense moment, was where I made a decision the likes of which I hope I never have to make again. I knew that if I stayed more than a few moments longer, I would suffocate and burn to death right there on that floor. I also knew that the men below me needed me to be there for them when they came out of the basement. They needed me to be there to lead them to safety.

It was a decision that made me choose between leaving my brothers to perish by saving my own life, or staying to face my own probable death. Ding… Ding… Ding… the sluggish bell ticked off my air supply, inching ever closer to the point where it would just stop, leaving me to asphyxiate.

That moment, I chose to flee and save myself. It’s why I’m sitting here typing this story.

I knew where I was in the structure. While it was pitch black from smoke and I was blind, and while every movement made my skin contact my turnout gear and burned me, I turned tail on my stomach and frantically crawled towards the doorway I knew it was only a few feet away. I knew I could make it. I knew my brothers were dead or dying. I knew…

“CRACK” went the floor as it opened up to reveal the inferno underneath my belly. I felt myself falling I saw the flames come up and envelop me. My vision turned from completely black to completely orange as I felt myself falling into the intense heat. I screamed and reached out ahead of me into the darkness. I clawed and flailed forward, grasping on to anything that I could grab to save me. God willing, my fingers found the concrete steps out the outside door to the residence. Inch by excruciating inch I pulled myself up and out into the light and the fresh air.

As soon as I was out of the house I stopped breathing as my SCBA mask sucked into my face for lack of air in the tank. I ripped it off of me and sucked in the sweet outside air. Waiting for me outside, about to try and find me, were the three firefighters who had went into the basement. They had evacuated through a basement door. Nobody knew that I was still inside waiting for them until they made a headcount in the confusing scene and found that I was not accounted for.

Looking back at this experience, I am proud of myself for finding out that I will go up to the last possible second to try and save my brother firefighters… although thinking about the decision I made to turn tail and run, I’m almost ashamed that I didn’t stay past that point of no return.

Of course, my policy is that I go home at the end of the day every day… but still.

Close calls are terrifying experiences. Thinking about losing any one of my coworkers or colleagues is unfathomable. It can happen, however, and we combat this reality with safety and organized command structures. This call was years ago in my career but it sticks in my mind at every call I’ve been to since that day.

Train hard. Keep your wits about you. Take everything seriously.

 

The Hole a firefighter fell through in a strucure fire (uninjured)

The Hole I fell through in a strucure fire (look right by the door)

Posted by Ckemtp on November 25, 2009 • Filed under: EMS Health & Safety, Fire Rescue Topics, Fire department, Firefighter, Firefighter Safety & Health, Firefighting Operations, Fires, accident, fire, training-fire-rescue-topics

Soapy Demons – Ckemtp is a geek

View Comments

Washing Machine Sta 1Ok, so this post really proves just how much of a geek I really am. Just bear with me for a bit.

This subject causes me a lot of personal grief. I know that it probably shouldn’t and that I am indeed a geek for worrying about this issue because seemingly no one else does, however this issue has plagued me for years and I need to get it off of my chest.

This is about the washing machine at the main fire station where I work. I’m at this station a lot, whether I’m working one of my three weekly scheduled paid shifts, hanging around with my wife who works there three scheduled paid shifts as well, or volunteering my time for call response, training, or work projects. So I have the opportunity to use this particular large, commercial, washing machine quite a bit.

It’s a nice machine. It handles the huge loads that we generate on a daily and nightly basis. It cleans the stuff pretty well and runs pretty quickly and quietly.

The problem is, the soap. It does not rinse the soap out of the clothes, bed sheets, blankets, turnout gear, or anything else that we put in there. The “rinse” water is always white with suds and everything comes out soapier than when we put it in there.

I am well aware that this is not a sexy problem. It’s not a big issue and castles will not fall because of it. It just drives me nuts.

When it comes to be my time to use the machine, I run two full cycles at a minimum to rinse out the machine. The third cycle usually has at least some soap in the water but I use it anyway because all of the residual soap that is left in the stuff that we constantly wash in there. The stuff is full of soap! Our sheets, our towels, our turnout gear… everything. After you run a load in there, even after a second full cycle, the water is white with suds on the final rinse phase.

For a few years, I begged, pleaded, cajoled, and bargained to get people to use less soap in the machine. I tried to get the purchasing division to get us a different type of soap that might rinse cleaner. I even went so far as to post up a few memos in the washing room and write a couple of written requests to the purchasing division and the officer above them.

Predictably, nobody cared those times and still nobody cares about the issue now. Everybody still dumps the same big glob of soap into the machine when they start it and then promptly forgets about it. Whomever comes in and removes the stuff from the washer just puts the stuff right in the dryer, still soapy as all get out, and throws another load in the washer. Then, they dump a big glob of soap in the machine and the cycle perpetuates. Honestly, it’s a losing battle for me and I know that I’m the only geek who cares out of the 100 other people on the department. Nowadays I’ve resorted to trying not to care about it so much and also by surreptitiously watering down the soap that we use. I’ve been doing that for years and nobody seems to ever have noticed (until they read this). It helps a bit, but still our stuff is soapy as heck.

Am I crazy? Probably, but consider this: This small issue is hurting my department and the way we function. Really. We spend hours per week cleaning and polishing our apparatus. To do that, we need towels. Lots of them. Now that they’re all full of soap, they don’t soak up water anymore and we have to constantly replace them with new towels that promptly get full of soap and don’t absorb water and leave our trucks streaked with laundry soap and water spots. Then, we replace the towels again and the cycle perpetuates. How much money do we spend on new towels?

Consider this also: Our guys sleep on linens that get washed every day after they’re used. These linens are full of soap and are against our guys’ skin every night. What happens when one of them develops an allergy? Occasionally, some of this linen goes for use on an ambulance… when will we get a patient with an allergy to our soap?

Consider this as well: How much does it degrade our turnout gear to be full of regular laundry soap? Sure, we bought the expensive specialized turnout gear cleaner, but it doesn’t matter because the water we’re using to wash the gear is full of the soap from everything else? Does that degrade our protection? How much are we harming our very expensive protective clothing by filling it with soap? When will the gear fail and someone get burned because of this? Will it happen? When someone gets burned will it be my fault because I didn’t try hard enough to fix an issue that I saw?

Yes, I’m a geek for caring about this issue so much. I feel like an OCD Chicken Little. However, this small, nothing issue is costing the department money overall and could get someone hurt out there on the fireground. After that, I’m sure people will wonder how this could have been prevented. I’m sure also that they’re looking for ways to cut costs now that the economy tanked and tax revenues are down.

And there sits the washing machine, quietly driving me crazy.

How many issues out there do people know about like this? Issues that are small enough so that nobody else cares but that snowball into big problems for the organizations. How many of these issues affect EMS and the fire service industry-wide. How many of them affect everything?

One day I’ll conquer my soapy demon. For now, I have to keep watering down the soap in secret… but as crazy as it seems, I feel that I’m making some small difference. You can too. Be it the way your equipment is checked in the morning, the way you package your lifesaving gear, the way you make sure that the gas tank is full, or the way you do whatever it is you do to make your service the best it can be.

Now get out there and water down your soap. You might just save a life.

Posted by Ckemtp on October 10, 2009 • Filed under: EMS, EMS ethics, EMS safety, EMT, Emergency Medical Services, Ethics, Fire department, Firefighter, Paramedic, edemse, ems 2.0, everyday ems ethics, fire, new perspective, pride, professionalism, soap

Why I love this Job

View Comments

Because the owner of this brand new Escalade will ultimately be happy that I’m tearing it apart with the spreaders. (Yep, that’s Good Ol’ Ck on the tool)
Posted by Ckemtp on September 7, 2009 • Filed under: Ambulance, EMS paramedics, EMT, Fire department, Firefighter, extrication, jaws of life

Operation FEE Line: Exposing the Deadly Side of Kittens on Emergency Scenes

View Comments

Funny Pictures
see more Lolcats and funny pictures

Kittens: Deadly minions of the Dark Side, or Cuddly Agents of Evil… You decide.

Today, I faced my own mortality in a daring, high-stakes, high-angle rescue. A life was on the line and my truck company was assigned to respond and snatch it from the jaws of death. We had been requested by the local animal control officers to rescue a cat stuck in a gutter on a steep roof about 14 feet of the ground.

Yea, a freakin cat. At least it wasn’t in a tree, that would have been too cliché.

We brought the tower ladder out of our station with a six man crew for this dangerous rescue and met with the Animal Control Officer on Scene.

“There’s the cat” He said.

The roof was pretty steep, and covered with asphalt shingles. With the sky just starting to let loose with a few sprinkles of rain, the 20 foot drop off the side into a rock garden was starting to concern me. Yes… I know that us firefighters are supposed to be good at working on roofs, but when a building’s on fire we don’t have to care how we may harm the roof by gaining traction. I really didn’t want to harm this nice lady’s roof, so sticking an axe in it to get a foothold was going to be a no-no. We pulled out a 24 foot extension ladder to reach the roof and a roof ladder to keep from falling to our deaths.

Or I should say, my death… because Captain Mike looked at me and said “Since you like cats so much CK, you go up there and get it”.

At this point, you might wonder why I’m being so dramatic about this.

Because cats on emergency scenes are evil death killers of doom and are more dangerous than ninja bunnies carrying lasers.

That, and well… I’ve never had good experiences when there have been so-called “cute little kitties” on my emergency scenes. I always end up flat out on my back. Literally.

You should know that I like cats. Really, (thanks to Gkemtb –my wife for my new readers) I’ve got three of them. However, when there’s a cuddly kitty on one of my scenes, ominous music starts to play and shenanigans ensue.

I learned the horrible truth about cats some years ago. My Paramedic/EMT-Basic ambulance had been called out to a “sick woman” at a local residence. When we arrived on scene shortly after fire and police we found an obviously grieving family huddled around a hospital bed where a frail elderly woman was laying. She was crying as forcefully as her frail body would let her. We learned the sad truth soon enough. The patient had been referred to hospice care a few weeks prior to this when the cancer that she had was deemed to be beyond hope. Her last wishes were to convalesce at home with her beloved husband and her beloved cat by her side. Unfortunately, her husband had passed away suddenly a few days before and she was at home, in her bed, too sick to attend the funeral which was in progress. Her family had become concerned and had decided that a trip to the hospital was necessary. I agreed, even though there was nothing that any paramedic or hospital could do to alleviate this poor woman’s suffering.

So it was a sad scene all around. We loaded her up on our cot and wheeled her into her living room when she became concerned and would not let us leave the house until we locked her beloved cat in the bathroom to keep it from, I don’t know, shredding the curtains or something. I was picked, because as is well known in my region, “CK likes cats”.

I found fluffy hiding behind a couch, pretending to be scared from all of the bodies in the room. Little did I know she was just pretending to be scared, and was really plotting our ultimate destruction. She came to me after a little bit of coaxing, and I picked her up and carried her from the living room, down the short hallway, and entered the bathroom.

The cat, who had been waiting for his minute to strike once I had been thinned from the herd, realized that I was planning to lock him in the bathroom and deployed his needle-sharp, slashing claws of doom and wrestled himself from my hold. I tried to grab him as he got to the floor and began running towards the bathroom door which was towards my back. I reached down and backwards for him, catching hold of him on his back. He slashed and squirmed towards the door, pulling me down and backwards with every razor sharp undulation.

So here’s the scene, I’m bending over backwards for this cat and was falling for his evil plot. Finally I lost my balance and fell. I rolled out of the bathroom backwards, head over heels into a perfect back flip. The fire crew, my partner, the police officer, and the family heard the commotion and witnessed my epic fail which I punctuated by crashing forcefully into the wall of the hallway. For his part, the cat sauntered back into the living room, sat down, looked at the rest of the people there, and licked his chops in a dare to any other would-be hero that would dare to try and cage him again.

No one dared. He stayed out and the patient went to the hospital.

So back to my daring rescue, this call was in the forefront of my mind as I climbed the 24 foot ladder and hoisted the roof ladder onto the small roof. It only fit about halfway on, so I made sure that the hooks were firmly set in the shingles. I knew what cats were capable of. I eased myself onto the ladder and crawled up to the peak of the roof. The cat was on the other side, away from the protection of my roof ladder. I slowly eased myself down the slick, steep, rain-soaked roof towards the cat who was patiently waiting in the gutter at the edge of the roof. I wasn’t as concerned as I should have been, because there was only a 14 foot drop at this side of the roof. I eased towards the cat saying “here kitty” and “I’ve got cheezburgers in my truck and yes you can has one” to her as I got to the edge. I was just able to get my hand on the nape of her neck and was able to grab the scruff. I picked her up out of the gutter and…

No I didn’t fall off, but the cat wrested herself from my grasp and while I was grabbing for my balance she walked up the roof and down to the other side. She sat right down in the gutter on the edge in the furthest possible spot from my roof ladder. At this point of the roof, due to the slope of the yard, there was a sheer 25 foot drop onto a rock garden.

Crap.

Because then I remembered another call, a fire this time. I responded 3rd engine in fresh from the scene of a mutual-aid brush fire. When we got there, we found the other two engines and a truck company had knocked most of the fire down on a single-story ranch type home. They had found a fully-involved attached garage when they arrived on scene and had made a good stop. Now, it was mostly overhaul that needed to be done. The homeowner however, was standing in the driveway begging the IC to rescue his cat that was still inside.

Cue the ominous music when the IC looked at me and remembered “CK likes cats”.

I went in the smoke-filled house with Lt. Tuna in full-gear and SCBA. We searched three rooms and located the cat in the far bedroom of the house. Lt. Tuna secured the doorway to the room to prevent the cat from escaping and I was tapped to go get the cat.

“Nice Kitty” did not like his house being on fire. He especially did not like alien-looking firefighters in full gear trying to grab him. I struggled and flopped around the bedroom chasing the cat. He finally made it to the headboard of the bed. I launched myself prone onto the bed and got a thick-gloved hand on him. He ran to the side, I rolled long ways on the bed onto my back and got another hand on him.

I had
him! Then I realized that I was on a… a waterbed with my hands stretched out over my head onto the headboard holding a sharp kitty who was rapidly finding out new ways to penetrate my leather firefighting gloves with his sharp teeth.

I think that this would be a good firefighting drill. Wear your 70 pounds of firefighting gear and an air pack, sprawl out supine on a water bed, and try to self rescue while holding a cat. I call it the “Ckemtp” drill.

I was stuck, much to the amusement of Lt. Tuna who entered the room, wrapped the cat in a towel, and carried him out of the residence. He left me there to flop around on the waterbed for a while until I was able to roll off of it, hit the floor, and crawl out a broken man.

When I got out of the house, the owner was petting the *really pissed* kitty and was trying to stuff him into a waiting kennel. I did not intervene, I had had enough.

So now this call was knocking around in my brain as I edged ever closer to the sheer drop to rescue gutter-kitty. Joe, another firefighter, had climbed the ladder by this point and handed me a net that had been given to him by the animal control officer.

“The cat’s over there” the animal control expert called up from the ground.

“Thanks” I said.

Joe climbed onto the roof and Capt. Mike moved the ladder closer to the cat and then climbed up to help. The three of us edged closer to the kitty. I nudged him with the net, Joe prevented escape, and Capt. Mike reached over from the safety of the ladder, grabbed the cat by the scruff of the neck, and placed him in the net.

Mission accomplished. I think that the cat let himself get caught though. Probably because my promise of a cheezburger in the truck had sounded better to him than did lapping up freshly splatted firefighters. Man was he ticked when he got placed in the Animal Control Officer’s van and found out I didn’t have one. I could hear him squalling as the guy walked back up to us.

“Thanks for getting the cat” He said.

“Just doin’ My Job Sir. Just Doin My Job.”

But I know that the cat’s out there. He’s plotting his revenge. He doesn’t sleep… he waits.

 

Posted by Ckemtp on August 8, 2009 • Filed under: EMS, EMS paramedics, EMT, Fire department, Firefighter, amulance, cats, rescue

Wow, that takes me back… A paramedic ruminates

View Comments

The other day I was up at the station having a conversation with one of our firefighters when she described a call where she found that “this guys legs were like, all messed up. They were like every which way and stuff. Gross”

Now while I have to give credit to great medical terminology where credit is due, I find it amazing how conversations like this can pull me into my own mental imagery. After ten short, well-paid, and relaxing years on the ambulance (ha!), I’ve got, well a few mental images stored up in the ol’ dusty recesses of my mind that pop randomly into the forefront of my mental picture show. I can’t turn them off. It’s completely random with what stimuli will trigger a vivid memory. One minute I’ll be walking up some stairs somewhere, and the next I’ll be mentally carrying someone down some staircase somewhere on a stairchair while the patient continuously pukes on me.

“It’s ok Ma’am”, I’d say. “People tend to puke on me. I get that a lot.”

So, after hearing this most eloquent firefighter describing her “all messed up legs” call, I found myself in the front seat of an ambulance.

This was some time ago, for some service I might have worked for somewhere. I was driving and New Medic partner was riding shotgun. He was describing his most recent fling while I was living vicariously through him describing his most recent fling. This was well before Gkemtb made my life Awesome, so it’s ok. We were headed to BigNun Hospital for a transfer.

“Dispatch to Ambo 74″ Crackled the radio. “Copy Code-3″

“Sweet!” I love getting called off of transfers. NM got out his trusty notepad to write down the address as the tones dropped out.

“dooooooo doooooooo” Went the tones. “Medic 74 respond Code 3 with Blueberry Hill fire. I-333 at the 34 and a half mile marker for the one vehicle roll-over. State police are advising to expedite”

“Cool!” I love trauma, always have. There isn’t a medic alive who doesn’t like good trauma. Sure it’s sad (see: Splashed Sadness) but nonetheless good, adrenaline pumping trauma gets the heart beating.

NM partner, however, being a New Medic Partner, acknowledged the call and said “Uh, Ck? I haven’t had a good trauma yet and I don’t know how I’m gonna do”

“I gotcha buddy, just follow my lead” I said as I flipped on the twinkles and woo-woo’s and headed out to the Interstate. When we got onto the Interstate traffic was a mess. We were shoulder riding through stopped traffic the whole way. Our lane was stopped dead and the other line was completely devoid of cars. That’s never a good sign. It means that both interstate lanes are blocked at the accident scene and traffic can’t proceed in either direction because the incident is blocking both lanes… either that or there’s gawkers in the other lane. Both aren’t good.

After a while of fighting traffic, fire arrived on scene and asked for our ETA before giving their scene size up.

“About a minute” was my reply.

We arrived on scene and found an image that is burned into my brain to this day. The vehicle, a half-ton white pickup truck, had obviously rolled multiple times coming to rest on its wheels perpendicular in the roadway with the passenger’s side facing the ambulance as we pulled up. The patient’s head and torso was hanging out of the passenger’s side window. The patient was face-down with his chest resting on the window about the level of his nipple line. I can still see the 6 inch wide streak of red dripping down onto the pavement from the patient down the passenger’s door. The red blood contrasted sharply against the dirty white paint of the truck.

We called on scene, hopped out of the ambulance, and grabbed our gear.

“He’s conscious and in a lot of pain” one of the firefighters told us as we approached the truck. I had NM stay outside of the truck as I crawled into the open driver’s side door.

The truck was a mess. Apparently the patient was a construction worker as evidenced by the amount of unsecured tools that had bounced around the truck as it rolled, impacting against the unsecured driver countless times and causing a lot of trauma. An open soda bottle had sprayed its contents all over the scene and the patient as well, giving everything a sugary sweet smell that comingled with the bitter smell of the blood that had splashed onto everything.

But that wasn’t what surprised me.

The patient was face down, hanging out the passenger’s side window. A bystander who identified her as a “nurse” had been supporting his shoulders, head, and neck which were outside the truck. Inside, I was shocked to find that his legs had been completely dislocated from the pelvis on down. It was grotesque. Every one of the joints in both of his legs had been dislocated and twisted. His feet pointed backwards, his knees rotated sideways with one being wrapped around the gear shift pointing oppositely from where it should be. His other was wrapped underneath him. Nothing was in anatomic position.

Gross.

And the patient… yea, he was awake and alert to feel all of this.

“Dispatch from Medic 74″ I said, urgently. “Send us the Helicopter. Blueberry Hill fire will be the LZ coordinator. LZ will be the Interstate. Traffic is completely blocked southbound from the scene.”

“Captain, I’m calling in the bird to transport. Can you land it on the roadway?”

“Sure thing” said the BHFD captain on scene, as he grabbed a crew to set up the landing zone.

“Hey NM, whatcha got up there?” I asked. He’d gotten vitals. The Pt was understandably tachycardic but he had a pretty good blood-pressure. Respirations were rapid and shallow. His o2 sat was 100% on the 15-litres-per-minute by non-rebreather mask that NM had put him on. He was in the process of putting the patient in a cervical collar when I asked.

So at this point I had pretty much no good ideas on how to get this guy out of the truck. His legs were just plain FUBAR’ed to use the term correctly. I couldn’t roll him onto his back with his legs the way they were and I couldn’t figure out a way to get them back into shape in the close quarters of the truck. I palpated down the length of the long bones in his legs and couldn’t feel anything that was broken other than the obvious joint dislocations. Finding distal pulses in the feet was pretty much out of the question with his thick boots on. On top of that, now the patient was beginning to actually feel the position he was in and was beginning to moan in pain.

“NM, any ideas on how we’re going to get this guy out from up there?” I asked.

“Aren’t you supposed to be here to figure that out?” was his reply.

After deliberating for a moment, I came up with a bright idea. I had the fire guys get our cot out with two backboards. My idea was to rest a backboard just underneath the passenger’s side window and slide the patient onto it, face down. His legs? Well… I figured that the damage had already been done to them and that since I would probably have to realign them anyway to restore distal circulation that I would just guide them out as they lifted and pulled him onto the backboard from the outside.

I recruited a wide-eyed EMT-Basic firefighter for the inside part of the plan.

“Here’s what I want to do y’all” I talk southern sometimes when I’se stressed.

“We’re going to sandwich him between two backboards. Y’all on the outside are going to lift and pull him onto a board face first. Me and this guy are going to guide him out from this side.” I calmly stated. “Everyone ready?”

“Um, you sure about this CK?” asked the wide-eyed FF/EMT-B. “Yea, you take this leg ‘cuz it’s not as bad. I’ll take (gulp) this one” I assured him.

“Sir?” I asked our conscious patient. “Get ready. There just isn’t any good w
ay to say this… it’s going to hurt a bit. You may want to take a deep breath.”

“Everybody ready? On the count of three. 1-2-3 go!”

They pulled and lifted and slid. The FF/EMT-B and I twisted and guided the rubbery legs around the gear shift and from under the seat. For his part, the patient uttered barely a whimper.

The legs, and this is one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen a human body do, simply “rubber banded” back into position. It was fast and easy the way they just snapped back into place. Freaky like. The patient slid right onto the board and onto the cot.

I hopped out of the truck and over to the patient. We placed a backboard on his back, picked him up between both of them and rotated him into the correct position. I then went to the truck to set up IV lines and let NM stay there to continue packaging the patient.

I ran down two IV lines as they were bringing the patient into the ambulance. I could hear the helicopter landing in the distance.

“Make him naked” I told a FF/EMT-B from the Fire Dept. Using one of my trademarked lines as I tossed him my trauma shears. He did, and to my amazement his legs, save for some abrasions here and there, didn’t look too bad. He had strong pulses in both feet as well.

I completed a head-to-toe trauma assessment as NM popped in a 14gauge IV. The helicopter medic entered and got another 14 in his other arm. We gave our passdown to the flight crew, finished the packaging, trauma assessment, and IVs and handed the patient off to them. They had kept the engine running on the helicopter for a “hot load”.

I hate hot loads. Something about walking under the spinning main rotor blade of a helicopter gives me the willies. We did though, wheeled our cot under the blades to load the patient in the bird. The chopper took off in a cloud of dust, taking the patient the 5 minute flight to the level 1 trauma center.

“So, NM. Was it good for you?” I asked him as we started cleaning up our truck. It was just plain destroyed with all of the treatment we gave this guy. We cleared the scene unavailable and out of service to return to the base hospital to restock and decontaminate the truck.

“I think that I like trauma” NM said. See? Everybody likes a good trauma now and then.

After cleaning, restocking, and returning the truck to service at our base hospital which happened to be the level 1 trauma center where the patient came to, we checked in with the ER doc.

“Hey, how’d the patient turn out?” We asked.

“Not too bad, he’s already up on the floor” Doc answered.

“What’d you find with his legs?” I asked.

“Nothing. His legs were fine. Just the airway and facial trauma. That was pretty much it” He said.

What?? I told him what we had on scene. He was skeptical. He said that he hadn’t found anything with the guy’s legs at all and that they were fine when he checked them.

I never did get a chance to follow up with this guy. I don’t know what ever happened to him. It was pretty common back then with how busy we were, and even more common now with the HIPPA privacy act.

The firefighter I was talking to at the beginning of the story? I dunno what she said while I was in my own little world. Something about lunch?? Hmmm… speaking of which, I remember a time….

Posted by Ckemtp on August 4, 2009 • Filed under: Ambulance, EMS, EMS paramedics, EMT, Fire department, Firefighter, accident, roll-over, stories

Video – Rockford, Illinois – Train derails and explodes during severe thunderstorm

View Comments

June 19th, 2009 – Rockford, IL

So last night, I was working my ambulance job in Wisconsin and MISSED THIS. My Illinois Fire Department sent an engine and a chief through the MABAS system who are still there. I don’t have all the details, but apparently a severe thunderstorm washed out railroad tracks which caused a train to derail. The train was carrying haz-mat. It ‘sploded, sending a fire ball 300 feet into the air.

Wow. And I missed it. I slept most of the night. They are reporting that there is one dead and nine injured. Those poor people. God’s blessings to the rescuers and the victims.

You can get more details at: the Rockford Register Star

Update: Here is some more information from RRstar.com

Posted by Ckemtp on June 20, 2009 • Filed under: EMS, EMT, Fire department, Firefighter, MABAS, Paramedic, Rockford, explosion video, fire, illinois, train derailment, train explosion

“In Their Eyes” – From Guest Author – Randy Lovelace EMT-B

View Comments

Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, EMS people and Firefighters,

I bumped this post up, because Randy’s such a darn good guy.

This post is placed with the permission of the author, Randy Lovelace EMT-B. He’s a friend of mine and a firefighter/EMT-B at a department where I work. He wrote this article after a training that our department completed and it was just published in our department’s monthly newsletter. I believe that the post needs more exposure, because it is just great. It exemplifies the camaraderie and community spirit that is embodied in our small-town department (that runs about 3k calls a year). We’re an anomaly, our small-but-proud department. We’ve got a fanatically devoted, passionate group of highly trained volunteer firefighters and EMTs that provide the best possible service to our citizens.

I’ve taken out the references to our department because I try to maintain my anonymity to provide another level of protection of patient confidentiality. It doesn’t detract from the piece.

Thanks Randy, great article.

————————————

In Their Eyes

Last Saturday, May 30th, the Mid-Size Midwestern Fire Department held training for all members at the Greenlee Farm site. Everyone that came was kept busy with all the work of training evolutions, scenario management, fire control, safety, and finally, the actual burning of the house on the property.

Throughout the morning, people started coming out to the site to see what was going on and find out why there was so much activity. Many of those people, however, were family members of the firefighters. There were wives, children and significant others all interested in seeing what we do and how we do it.

For the firefighters, the activities were fairly fast-paced. Most of the training was geared towards fire suppression, which required teams to advance hose lines into the burning structure, identify the source of the fire and its fuel, and correlate the conditions inside with a method of fire attack that would result in the maximum possibility of success while subjecting the firefighters to minimum risk. Some new operators were manning the pump controls on the engines, others were shuttling water from the nearest water source to our site, and dumping it into porta-tanks for use by the firefighting teams.

Instructors, safety personnel, training officers and operations officers all worked throughout the morning, checking everything, verifying that all risks had been mitigated as much as possible, and that all planned training was taking place on time to previously determined standards.
For many of the firefighters running evolutions against the scenarios, this was their first time in a burning structure beyond our training tower. This was their first time fighting fire in scenarios where the fire could get away from them, and their first time in conditions where the heat was a physical entity – attacking you as soon as you entered the house.

Our probies proved that morning that they knew how to properly check their nozzle and hose line before entering a structure. They remembered that you turn the nozzle head to the right (for a stream pattern) to fight the fire, and verify you have water, not air, coming out that hose. They didn’t know that our primary interior training officer was intentionally setting the nozzle for a fog pattern every time a previous team got done, just to test what they did remember. Even our newest firefighters remembered that you position yourself outside the hose line as it turns around a corner, and they all got to experience what it truly meant to back up the nozzle man – that they were his eyes, his guardian angel. They learned how much they could ease the work of aiming the nozzle for the nozzle man, or make it extremely difficult to even hit the fire if they positioned themselves improperly. They demonstrated that although the fire was exciting, it was a known force, and they were to look for the unknown dangers lurking in this burning environment in order to protect themselves and their partner.

Our new firefighters all came to understand the reason for properly wearing all their gear even outside the burning building. They got to feel the immense heat of the fire from 10 yards away, and they felt how much their gear does shield their skin from that heat. They learned that a fog spray from a nozzle can create a magic barrier, insulating them from the heat and allowing them to complete tasks near the fire.

At the end of the day, we had probies and rookies saying they’d never been this hot, they didn’t remember a time when they were this tired. Firefighters of all levels of experience were drenched in sweat, looking for any place at all to sit down, rest and cool off. This day, everyone worked their tails off, everyone was tired, and most had aches of one sort or another.
It’s days like this when we could have been mowing our lawns or napping in a hammock that each of us asks, “Why do I do this? Why do I give up my free time to train so hard?”
The answer to those questions could go in many directions. We could say there’s nothing better to do, it’s for the adrenaline rush, it’s for the camaraderie, it’s to get far away from the Wife’s Honey-Do list. But, reflecting honestly, I think we work and train like this for a different reason. I believe a small piece of each of us wants to be a hero. I’m not talking about saving the world all by ourselves, and I’m not talking about the rush to disaster when all others rush the other direction. I’m simply talking about doing something that needs to be done, when it needs to be done, and doing it well enough that we end up making things better, not worse, for all involved parties. I’m talking about doing the right thing, serving our community doing things that others will not or cannot do.

The belief I’ve just stated, however, was modified on Sunday, the day after our training burn and all that hard work. I got a phone call from my daughter, relating something that happened between my son-in-law (a firefighter) and his son, Austin.

Austin was at the fire on Saturday, and he watched everything he could. His eyes were flashing in every direction, seeing what was going on, where the fire was, what the firefighters did to contain it, watching pump operators, watching hose line tasks, listening to the commander give instructions over the radio. He looked for his father, wanting to see what Dad was doing. When his father sat down, Austin joined him, assuming the same posture. And Austin had the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on a child’s face during that entire time.

When he got home, Austin wrote his father a letter, and drew a picture for him. The letter, transcribed exactly, read:

To Daddy,

Dear daddy I loved waching the fire. It was one of the most coolest things I ever sean. I sean a fan fall that was fun. When I get older I hope I am going to be a firefiter. Just like you.

From Austin

(transcribed with permission from Austin and his Dad)

After my son-in-law read this letter, he was quoted as saying “Aw Buddy, that’s great. Thank you. I love you, too!”

When this story was related to me, tears began to form in my eyes, and I started to understand that I just might be wrong about this entire process. These people I trained with on Saturday, they’re not probies and rookies and veterans and officers, these people are family. I don’t train with them, and go to calls with them. I work with them. I work to protect them. I work to accomplish things together that we could never finish alone. And they all do the very same for me. We nurture each other, we care for each other, we make each other better people that any of us thought we could be.

This firefighting family isn’t a replacement for my own kin. But they’re a perfect model of our families at home. We do the same things at the department as we do at home. We protect and nur
ture, we prepare, we train, we work at home just as we do with the fire department.
I realized that we say we have many reasons for being volunteer firefighters, but in the end, we do it for our families. We do this because we have a need to teach our own how important it is to do good things. We teach them that rewards aren’t always monetary, quite often, they’re heartfelt. We teach them that hard work can be its own reward. In this process, we get benefits as well. We raise children that aspire to be like us, children that are excited for what we do, even when they see how hard we work and sweat to accomplish our tasks. We’re teaching future members of society to love the work we love, and we are preparing them to replace us when we’re too old to continue the exhausting pace that firefighting demands. We’re teaching our children that success exacts a toll – exhaustion, aches, sweat, time. Success demands that we first be ready for a challenge before we can tackle that challenge. And we teach them the sweet taste of victory when we’ve done all that work. We provide them with functional families, homes with love and caring, places to be safe from the rest of the world.

As you prepare for Father’s Day on the 21st, take time to reflect on what you’ve just read, as well as the following concepts. Please note, the phrase “father figure” implies gender, but there’s no gender requirement to be a father figure.

1. If you mentor, you’re a father figure to the one benefiting from your tutelage.
2. If you lead, you’re a father figure to those you command.
3. If you’re the Fire Chief, you’re a father figure to the entire department.
4. If you have children, you’ve already met at least 2 of the previous tests.

For each of us, there’s one more benefit. Austin said it in his letter and all of our children have said the same at one time or another. We’ve already done what we’re still hoping to accomplish. In their eyes, we’re already heroes.

———————————-

Comments on this post will be read by the author. He deserves kudos.

Posted by Ckemtp on June 18, 2009 • Filed under: Ambulance, EMS, EMS Blog Carnival, EMS Health & Safety, EMS Humor, EMS Topics, EMT, Fire Rescue Topics, Fire department, Firefighter, Public relations, appreciation, camaraderie, fire, fire truck, funny, humor, pride, volunteer fire department, volunteer firefighter

A warning to the EMS Blogosphere

View Comments

http://www.iemta.com/KEMSA%20Chronicle%20Article.pdf

The above link is to an essay written by a Paramedic from the State of Kansas who got into a very large amount of trouble by being less than flattering in a blog post that he wrote about a specific patient. There is no link to the actual blog that I know of, but in the above letter he stated that he broke patient confidentiality.

The hit he took was huge. He lost two jobs, lost his license for 90 days, and was almost barred from practice indefinitely. Two of his coworkers were suspended for writing comments as well.

Just a note for us EMS bloggers. Do not do not do not violate patient confidentiality, ever. Change any and all details. Not only is it good for your patients, it’s good for your career. I like the EMS blogosphere, and I do not wish for it to disappear because of any like incidents.

Posted by Ckemtp on June 3, 2009 • Filed under: Ambulance, EMS, EMS Blog, EMS blogosphere, EMT, Fire department, Firefighter, Paramedic, blog

Follow up to The Shine Factor: What makes a great Ambulance Service

View Comments
This is part 2 of a 3 part series on “The Shine Factor”

Part 1 of this series can be found here – The Shine Factor

Part 2 of this series can be found here – What Makes a Great Ambulance Service

Part 3 of this series can be found here – The Shine Factor – Grunts

——————————————————–

Perhaps I really am an EMS geek. I do EMS tourism. No, I don’t find new and interesting ways to hurt myself enough to require emergency services but when I’m travelling I usually stop in to EMS and Fire Stations along my way and go look over the service. This has been a lot of fun some times (Thanks MAST in Kansas City and Sedgwick Co. EMS in Wichita! I had a great time) and has been somewhat less fun in other areas. If you’ve ever done this, you’ve probably noticed some things like I have.

First, there are services out there that are average. They run ok equipment, they have an ok group of people working there, and they appear generally competent.

Then there are services that are not so good, the kind that leave you shaking your head at in the car when you leave after politely pretending to be impressed.

And finally, there are services that really, truly do impress you. They’ve got this stuff down to a science. Their rigs are clean, well taken care of, and in great shape. Their equipment is top of the line and well stocked, their uniforms are cool, their people are really friendly and seem more intelligent than your coworkers, and their facilities make yours look like a single-wide trailer. Heck, the place even smells like freshly squeezed awesome. These services are so much of a class act that you find yourself wondering why exactly you work where you do and aren’t working there with them.

I’ve seen these services along my path and I have noticed a few things that seem to characterize all of them. Sure, some do these things better than the others to different extents however you will find a healthy mix of these things at all of these services. I’d like to share some of these things with you.

Things I’ve found out about awesome EMS Services:

  • Their people are proud of the organization: You’ll find that the people who work at awesome services sincerely have pride in where they work. They’re there for a reason. They enjoy working for a service that has a good reputation in the community and the wider region. They think that their service is cool; they think that working for their service is cool; and they are respected by people from other agencies because of the position with the agency that they have. There’s a general feeling among the people that work for the service that it takes hard work and performance to earn a position within the agency. A service earns self respect the same way a person does, by having high standards and meeting their own challenges. A service that earns the respect of its people earns the respect of the wider community. Their Shine Factor is high.

     

  • Their people truly care: “Apathetic” is not an adjective you would use to describe these people. The culture that they’re in allows them to know that they make a difference in everything the service does, not only in the lives of their patients. They know that they are an important part of their service and that they would be missed if they were gone. They care about their coworkers and are as much friends as they are colleagues. There is mutual respect and a feeling that everyone there has to pull their weight in order for the service to meet its goals and thrive. Have you ever seen something wrong in a truck and haven’t spoken up because it was someone else’s fault or someone else’s job to take care of it? These people care enough not to do that.

     

  • Their community cares about and supports them: Community support is absolutely essential if an EMS agency is going to thrive. The best services have proven their worth to their communities and constantly work to prove why they need, deserve, and responsibly use the support they receive. The community supports them because they see the benefit in supporting them. You can see the community’s support in the newness and quality of their equipment and facilities as well as in the salaries that the employees are paid. You can see how responsible the service is with the support they get in how well they treat the equipment and the community in return.

     

  • The culture of the service just ‘feels good’: The culture of the organization defines the way everything runs. Bad organizational cultures breed discontent and apathy in everyone over time. Good organizational cultures breed people who feel comfortable coming to work and handing the responsibility of being an employee. People that work in a bad culture form cliques and get angry a lot. People that work in good cultures come up with ideas that get judged on their merits. People that work in bad cultures fear mistakes because of the punitive measures that will come down from on high. People that work in good cultures acknowledge their mistakes and are allowed to learn from them so that they grow as a provider and as a person. People that work in bad cultures hate coming in to work. People that work in good cultures have friends at work and feel comfortable, if not happy, with being there. I think that you can get what I’m talking about.

     

  • Their people are experts in what they do: Paramedics and EMTs are experts in Pre-Hospital medical care. They have to be, there is nobody else who could or should be. The people in awesome EMS systems have great protocols that are challenging to learn and require advanced skills to perform. Their protocols evolve with emerging science and keep on the progressive edge of medicine. The training, quality review, and quality improvement programs are tough and demanding. People take pride in being the best at what they do and earn their own self respect by doing it well. They respect themselves for their efforts and respect their coworkers for earning their respect every bit as much as they do. Ever been scared that you or a family member or friend would get hurt while so and so’s on? These people don’t have to be.

     

  • The organization respects and supports the employees: This relates to the organizational culture but deserves its own point. Employees will not respect the employer unless the employer respects the employees. In awesome EMS services, the employees and management function in an atmosphere of mutual respect. The management provides the employees with adequate, functional equipment and facilities even when asking them to do more with less. They strive to promote fairness in corrective actions and policies, knowing when to cut someone slack when appropriate. The employees are treated like adults and are encouraged to innovate and take ownership of their areas.

I’ve been to these services and I can honestly say that I left their station with the feeling that I wanted to be a part of their organization. Then, I’ve gone back to my service and taken an inventory on what we needed to do to emulate them. It’s all about being able to enjoy coming to work for the right reasons where you work with people who care, respect, and strive for the same things that you do. EMS people who are passionate about EMS who are allowed to shine build great organizations no matter where they happen to land. EMS people who aren’t build organizations that fall into the other two categories. I suggest that you take some of the suggestions below to help get your service to where you want it to be:

  • Read “The Shine Factor” – One of my previous posts and the predecessor to this one.

     

  • Realize that your community won’t care about you u
    nless you tell them why they should – EMS organizations need to market themselves just as any other business. No matter what your classification is, you need to market yourself to your community every day. Your constituents are your customers and they won’t think about you unless they either need you or you put your message in front of their faces. Tell them what you do, tell them why you do things the way that you do, and tell them what you need to do what they do. Let them know how you strive for quality. Let them know how well you are stewards of their hard-earned dollars. Let them know who you are and what you stand for. Trust me, PR saves lives and EMS budgets.

 

  • Right now, resolve to treat everyone else in your organization like a professional. Try to earn their respect. Someone has to take the first step here, it should be you.

 

  • End any secrecy in your organization – Sure, direct personnel actions are one thing, but unwritten policies and issues directly affecting all employees are quite another. Allow people to become involved in the organization in any role they want to. Organizational secrecy builds “Silos” where people tend to stratify themselves based upon their own perception of what is most important to the group and allows individuals to worry that anyone with a new idea is there to steal their position within the silo. Allow people to participate and collaborate on decisions affecting the organization.

 

  • Encourage innovation. Encourage participation and new ideas – No idea is a bad idea. Business these days thrives on the economics of ideas. Don’t shoot down any idea without a collaborative review of its merit. Employees come up with new and better ways to do things every day, let them develop those ideas and test their effectiveness. If those ideas are repressed in an organizational culture that resists change, the whole organization will suffer when people begin to feel that their contributions never matter.

 

  • Encourage people to take ownership of their roles and responsibilities – I work for my ambulance service because it would miss me if I was gone. Why would anyone ever go to a place where it didn’t matter if they were there or not? When people begin to feel that their time isn’t valued or their efforts aren’t appreciated, they stop putting forth any time or effort above what it takes to avoid being fired. That’s it.

 

  • Never let anything stagnate – If you haven’t reviewed a system in over a year, you’re lagging behind. If your protocols haven’t changed in over a year, you’re not keeping pace with medical science. Even if something is working very well, that doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be reviewed and measured regularly. Make systems prove their worth. Don’t let anything get stagnant. Pull ineffective policies or programs and replace them with another idea. Review those ideas and see if they’re better suited to your goals. Set lofty goals and try hard to reach them.

 

  • Reevaluate why you do what you do – Why are you in the organization? Are you there because you care about what you do? Are you passionate about it? Once you remember what it was that brought you to EMS and to the organization where you’ve happened to land, evaluate if you still see your organization fires your passion. If it doesn’t, work diligently to make it meet your design. Earn your own respect. Forgive and forget past grievances and collaborate on new solutions. Bust silos and build bridges, not fences.

 

As always, I welcome comments and e-mails: ProEMS1@yahoo.com

——————————————————

 This is part 2 of a 3 part series on “The Shine Factor”

Part 1 of this series can be found here – The Shine Factor

Part 2 of this series can be found here – What Makes a Great Ambulance Service

Part 3 of this series can be found here – The Shine Factor – Grunts

 

Posted by Ckemtp on April 17, 2009 • Filed under: Administration & Leadership, Ambulance, Command & Leadership, EMS, EMS Health & Safety, EMS Management, EMS Topics, EMS ethics, EMS rant, EMT, Ethics, Fire department, Firefighter, Paramedic, The Shine Factor, edemse, ems 2.0, everyday ems ethics, new perspective, professionalism, technology-communications-ems-topics

Follow Up to the Shine Factor – Grunts: Part 1

View Comments

 This is part 2 of a 3 part series on “The Shine Factor”

Part 1 of this series can be found here – The Shine Factor

Part 2 of this series can be found here – What Makes a Great Ambulance Service

Part 3 of this series can be found here – The Shine Factor – Grunts

————————————————

The other day I determined the most important piece of equipment in my ambulance for the day. It varies from shift to shift, you see. Sometimes it’s one of the sexier tools we carry, like the IO (intraosseous – Into bone marrow) drill or the $25k cardiac monitor. That day, it was definitely NOT sexy but nonetheless it attained the status of the most important piece of equipment of the day. It was (drum roll please): The emesis basin.

For my non-EMS audience (Yes!! I’m getting one!! Keep telling your friends!!) “Emesis” is a medical term for “Raalllpfffegh” or, more technically, “barf”. It’s puke, vomit, throw-up, and the like. It’s something that, (apologetically) has been mentioned a few times in my writings. For EMS people, as I keep saying, it tends to be an integral part of our careers. The “Emesis basin” is a polite, professional term for a puke bucket; A portable version of the Porcelain Goddess that people pray to on hungover mornings if you will. Having one on the ambulance is necessary for a lot of reasons, none the least of which is to keep the puke out of your shoes. If you ever want to see a medical person scramble, and I mean any medical person, yell that you’re going to need an emesis basin quick like.

Quick sidebar story: The other day I was working the clinic when a patient asked for someone to come into his room. He said “I think I’m gonna throw up!” and he definitely looked like he wasn’t kidding. The problem was, when calculating his probable trajectory; I saw that he was aiming for the exact ground level cabinet where the emesis basin was stored. I had to act fast. I sprung into action, diving commando style towards the cabinet. Seconds ticked like hours. Quickly I opened the door and grabbed for the basin, cursing myself in my head for the lack of dexterity I had in getting the basin out the door. If only I had more time! I could…

Yes, he puked on me… Only a little bit though… He just peppered my scrubs a bit with splatter off the floor.

So anyways, the emesis basin was the most important piece of equipment on the ambulance the other day. The patient needed it and needed it right then and there and I got it for her. Luckily for me we had one. Yep, we had ONE; Just ONE bucket that I used ten minutes into my hour long transfer. It was my fault too, because it was my ambulance for the day and therefore the responsibility to check the stock levels and functionality of the equipment was mine and mine alone. The fact is, though, that the emesis basin just isn’t on my mental list of things that I absolutely have to check. I check the biggies really well every shift. I make sure that there’s plenty of EKG electrodes because I really like 12-lead EKGs and I’ll do the fancy right sided ones when I think that they’re necessary. I check to see that we have a good supply of all sizes of IV caths just in case I need to turn multiple people into pin cushions. I check the airway stuff religiously, and even do a monthly op check on my monitor every shift just to make sure it works. That, and I follow our check list to the letter every time.

But I took the emesis basin count for granted, and it almost cost me another vomit bath.

Now, I’m not shying away from my responsibility to check out every piece of equipment on my truck before I head out the door every morning, but really if I was down to my last basin, so probably was the crew before. Since I don’t think that they had to use one, so probably was the crew before them. Then it goes right back to me, when I probably didn’t check it that shift either. More of my fault there then.

Luckily I had the one that I did.

I would wager that one of the most annoying things that can happen to an ambulance person is to find out that you’ve run out of something you need at the worst possible time. Everyone hates that. If it happens a lot it can really tear down The Shine Factor of your organization a lot. It makes the EMT that it happens to blame themselves a bit, but also blame their coworkers a lot more. Nobody likes to bear the blame entirely on themselves so they rationalize that while they may have not exactly checked that exact piece of equipment, the previous crew obviously didn’t either. Then anger starts, and eventually apathy blooms.

Here’s what a grunt like me can do to put an end to this: (Yes, very very simple, I know) Check your freaking truck!

I don’t mean check it like you are told to do per the rule book, I mean check it out thoroughly every single shift. Pull everything out. Make sure that it works. Make sure you know how to use it (couldn’t we all use a refresher on the traction splint?) Make a production of it to whomever happens to be around to see you do it. While you’re doing it, take the extra minute or two to spray something on the surfaces and wipe them off with a towel. It may not be a full decon, but it at least make things cleaner and more sanitary.

A strange thing will happen here, I guarantee it.

First, you will KNOW for sure that your truck is in tip-top response readiness. You can’t fix the fact that it may have 200k+ miles on it, but you sure can make sure that you’ve done your part. It’s a good feeling. Trust me.

Second, you’ve now just picked up a big part of the responsibility for increasing the shine factor in your organization by taking away a big potential aggravation spot for your other crews. They may not deserve it all the time… but at least you’re doing your part to keep everyone happier and to make sure that every patient in that ambulance doesn’t have to suffer additionally from the lack of needed equipment.

Third, by making this a production, and even by turning this into a game, you’ve single-handedly improved the overall care that your organization provides and therefore the pride that your coworkers have in the service. If you do your best truck check, and then challenge another crew to find something that you may have missed, you’re pulling their pride into it too. Make it a bet. Put breakfast or something like it on the challenge. Their pride is on the line too, and that will get them invested.

At a service I worked for in times past, we always stayed with the same truck day in and day out. Since I’m pretty much OCD on truck cleanliness, I got into a competition with another medic from a different station that was riddled with the same OCD that I was. We polished, shined, cleaned, vacuumed, and tried to generally outdo the other with how brightly our truck shone in the sunlight. If I would have had the ability, I’m sure that we would have taken surface cultures to see how sanitary our trucks were (and THAT would be a great topic for an upcoming piece!). That competition put our personal pride into making our trucks the cleanest and shiniest they could be. Once we were invested personally, our pride inspired us to clean the trucks better than any management policy ever could. In fact, management’s best option to further motivate us would probably have been to offer prizes and recognition for the competition. Positive reinforcement other than negative sanctions that there would have been. It works.

Here are some things that I resolve to check each shift:

  • The batteries in my ear thermometer
    • And I’ll make sure that we have the little cover things too
  • I want at least two of every size ET tube in case the first one gets all mucked up
  • Every blade too.
  • I’m actually going to get out the test solutions and calibrate my glucometer. (Yea, when was the last time you did THAT)
  • The child car seat.
  • The portable suction unit, both manual and mechanical.
  • The cot. I’ll bet that the one you’ve got needs at least ONE thing tightened and has at least ONE speck of blood on it.
  • The number of towels in the cabinet. Does anyone else put one on their knee when they
    kneel down at the side of the cot and put the patient’s arm on their knee to cushion the bumps? How many times have you had blood run down on your pants? Now, be honest, how many times have you just felt it easier to walk around that way for the rest of your shift? (Guilty. Ewww)
  • Every other little thing, too.

As always, “Get out there and polish some chrome”

 

—————————————————————-

 This is part 2 of a 3 part series on “The Shine Factor”

Part 1 of this series can be found here – The Shine Factor

Part 2 of this series can be found here – What Makes a Great Ambulance Service

Part 3 of this series can be found here – The Shine Factor – Grunts

Posted by Ckemtp on March 30, 2009 • Filed under: Administration & Leadership, Ambulance, Command & Leadership, EMS, EMS Health & Safety, EMS Management, EMS Motivation, EMS Topics, EMS ethics, EMS pep talk, EMT, Fire Rescue Topics, Fire department, Firefighter, Firefighter Safety & Health, Firefighting Operations, Paramedic, The Shine Factor, edemse, fire

Professing EMS

View Comments

Some time ago I was working a shift in a clinic on a particularly busy day when I had a few moments to sit down, have a cup of coffee, and talk with my coworkers. It was the usual stuff, talk about the day, tidbits about personal lives, and since most of the people I was working with were women, talk about things that I didn’t really need to hear about. After a few minutes we all had to get back up and head back onto the floor to keep up with the constant tide of flu-season sniffles.

It was all pretty mundane for me until the doc that we were working with who hadn’t been there much before, made a statement. As we were walking out, he said “Man, I really hate this! This isn’t my love, it’s not my passion!” I was taken aback. I asked him what he meant. He went on to say that he really wanted to be a concert pianist and that he only did medicine now because he didn’t know how to do anything else.

Now, I’m not you… but even though this guy was a pretty good Doctor, I immediately felt sorry for all of the patients that day. I mean, would you want this guy to be your doctor? Who in their right mind would want someone who hated taking care of you taking care of you?

It did, however, get me to thinking… Is that where we are in EMS today? I mean our profession. The profession of EMS, our careers and our industry. Are we made up of people like this doctor? Now during the day that I worked with him, he never made any egregious errors in patient care, nor did I see him do anything illegal, immoral, or fattening. However, if providers aren’t *in* to providing to care, would you want to have them providing care to you or your family? What about your service? Sure, we all know providers who love EMS, love their patients, and can’t wait to take care of any patient that calls for their help, but while I would hope that they are the majority… are they?

EMS is a profession in its infancy, we’ve only been around since sideburns were popular, but in that time we’ve gone from dedicated but untrained people rocketing around in hearses to professional providers practicing curbside critical care. It’s a great profession to be in and I’m proud to be a part of it. As a group we’re a pretty dynamic fast paced lot. I would like to ask our group though, do we have the love of providing care to the breadth of society who call us when they think that the life or health of their themselves or their loved ones are in danger? Or have we fallen short of the lofty goals set forth by Johnny and Roy?

Yep, I’m asking a lot of questions here. I just would like to open up a dialogue among the EMS professionals out there. Ask yourselves if the EMS providers in your area are advancing the profession of EMS to the place where you think it should be heading. Ask yourselves if you work with people who have the love of the profession enough so that if they were strangers and you were a patient would you want them making decisions about your life? I think that it’s high time that EMS is taken over by EMS professionals who care about advancing our profession into the future, not by people who don’t care enough to understand the vast array of issues that face our industry today. I would like EMS people to take ownership and drive our industry where we believe it should go. It’s our profession, and our responsibility to strengthen our service to meet the challenges that are facing our communities. And that responsibility starts with you, the individual EMS provider.

You, as a caring EMS professional actually have the tools to do this. First off, realize that EMS is a profession all its own, truly a dynamic industry that has earned a place in the very fabric of country. Think about it, our generation and the generations to come have grown up with the notion of 911. They know that when the unthinkable happens, all they have to do is call the magic three numbers and someone will come and help them. It’s a powerful piece of the American psyche that people rarely give second thought to… but they all know what they’re going to do the next time they find Grandpa unresponsive. I think that if EMS ceased to exist (and contrary to what it may look like from the dashboard of your ambulance some days, it’s not all that likely) our society would look a lot different than it does now. People need to have the notion of EMS. And make no mistake, we’re darn privileged to have the role in society that we do. It is, however, up to us to awaken the public to what it is that we do, to educate ourselves to our own potential, and to show the medical establishment what we’re capable of. Ask yourself, really ask, if you want some other group to decide where we’re going for us, oh… say like the nurses’ lobby, or the IAFF, or the DOT, or the (insert non-EMS acronym here). You are sitting right now in an industry on the cusp of a watershed change, and it’s up to you to take ownership and steer EMS where you want it to go.

Here’s what I’m doing, and what I would like to suggest to you all. First, recognize that EMS is indeed a profession; and a good one at that. Second, evangelize EMS to all you meet. You can’t complain about the system abusers (or worse, the people who truly need us and yet don’t call us) if you aren’t out there educating them about what we’re here for. Third, realize that “PR Saves lives” and make sure that the information out there about EMS in your community is projecting the message that you think it should, and if it isn’t, write something up and get the word out to change that. Talk with everyone you can and let them know just what it is that we do, who we are, and what we’re capable of. Take ownership of EMS, because if we don’t, someone else out there will.

As always, post publicly if you want public discussion, or contact me at: ProEMS1@yahoo.com

Posted by Ckemtp on February 10, 2009 • Filed under: Ambulance, EMS, EMS Topics, EMT, Ethics, Firefighter, Paramedic, Public relations, ems 2.0, everyday ems ethics, fire

Why am I doing this??

View Comments

So the other day I was taking this cute little 9 month old to a tertiary specialty childrens’ hospital. It was a nice place, big, clean, bright, state of the art equipment, people scurrying about looking busy, cute nurses, etc.. It was a class act. The patient was stable and quite pleasant actually. We had been playing in the back for the last hour to the extent that a 9 month old can play while in a papoose restraint. Yes, he was papoosed, but only because he had a fractured femur and needed the tight immobilization. I happen to like kids thankyouverymuch.

What got me about this is that when I got the patient into the ER room, a bunch of slightly older kids walked in wearing scrubs. My first thought was that they had a new crop of ED techs that were in training… however, much to my horror they identified themselves as surgical residents. Oops. Looks like the last ten years or so that I spent driving fast and breaking things could have been spent in a cramped room looking at books and developing my student loan debt. It got me to thinking that if new doctors were starting to look young, and if I was starting to feel grandfatherly in the ambulance, maybe I should consider advancing my career.

The problem with this is that I’m an EMS addict. Really. No I don’t have 25 warning lights in my personal vehicle and my physique is free from star-of-life tattoos… But I just have always liked getting up every morning and being plum lucky enough to be a paramedic. I can’t imagine doing anything else for a living. It has struck me that whenever I hear coworkers talk about career advancement it usually involves leaving the streets and taking time away from patient care. If you’re on the fire side, you can become a lieutenant or captain and get off the “box” away from the “gomers”, or if you’re not you can become a nurse and increase your income while diminishing your clinical decision making skills (Yes, I pick on most nurses here). However, I’ve been thinking about what I could do to “advance” my career while feeding my addiction to making sick people feel better in the way that only medics can.

So here it is, after a shift or two of kicking it around, I have decided to decrease the amount of my time that I used to spend sitting around on duty watching Internet videos of people hurting themselves and looking up pictures of cats with funny captions (Yes, I’m more of a man because I love my fluffy-wuffy lil’ Kitty-Witty) and spend some time writing useful tidbits of ambulance crap that I have garnered through the last ten years or so of riding under the lights and being smacked around by what the streets have served me up. What follows on this blog is one of my first pieces for the enjoyment of a wide audience. If you like it, I’d love feedback here or at: proems1@yahoo.com.

Oh, and for the web crawlers: Paramedic, Firefighter, EMT, Boobies, ambulance, fire, medic, EMS.

Posted by Ckemtp on February 9, 2009 • Filed under: Ambulance, EMS, EMT, ER, Fire department, Firefighter, Introduction, Paramedic, hospital, show tunes