Skip to content


Vive la solidarité! Something we have in common with our French friends

1 comment

Spoiler alert: There are a LOT of French jokes in this one. A LOT of them. You’ve been warned.

This should come as relief to those of you that are tired of measuring your suction catheters in “freedoms” instead of in French. While I was researching the French model of EMS delivery for the post I wrote last week (Hypocritically Speaking – My opinions about EMS models and philosophies) I stumbled across something in the Wikipedia article that made me want to raise a baguette in solidarity to our cheese-eating friends. You might just agree.

It is of note that the French model of EMS delivery involves physicians in all levels of the system. Unlike the American model, where physicians provide

oversight and only rarely respond to scenes, in France physicians are included everywhere from taking calls in the dispatch center to actively responding to scenes and taking care of patients. Their system is different than ours in many ways other than this, but the physician thing is pretty big. I’d always guessed that a system like that could only exist in the realm of near-total government funding, considering they’ve surrendered to the idea of socialized medicine over there. (Hey now, that was a French joke, not an American political statement. Cool your fondue)

But then, in the Wikipedia article, I read this:

“The situation is further complicated by the fact that the physicians staffing the SMUR units are among the lowest-paid in Europe. Although salaries have recently improved somewhat, in 2002 it was reported that these physicians, who are, for the most part, full-time employees of public hospitals, had a starting salary of only €1300 (£833; $1278) per month.[14] This economic reality has resulted in understandably high turnover and some difficulty in staffing positions. It has been suggested, however, that the recognition of emergency medicine as an in-hospital specialty in France and elsewhere in Europe is likely to result in the evolution of that system towards more comprehensive in-hospital emergency services.”

Garcon! Bring me my beret and your finest, cheapest cabernet sauvignon! It turns out that the low pay, little respect, and feeling that “once we’re viewed as a specialty the conditions will improve” isn’t limited to just this side of the Atlantic. Maybe if we’re both underpaid for taking care of sick people we might have other things in common. Maybe they can learn to like our cheap, watered-down beer and we can learn to like their stinky cheeses. Maybe there’s a common theme to EMS around the world that binds us all together. Maybe, just maybe, I can start calling my burn patients “French toast” and they can call their obese heart attack victims an “American Special”.

 

Or maybe not…

C’est la Vie, eh?

Hangover Heaven? WHY ARE WE NOT DOING THIS!?!?

6 comments

I came across a new business today while I was casually wandering around the Internet and I just absolutely had to share it with the EMS crowd. The company, called "Hangover Heaven" (www.HangoverHeaven.com) is set to open April 14th, 2011 in Las Vegas, NV. (Where else?)

If you haven't already clicked the link their business model is that they have a bus that drives around the strip, picking up the hungover masses, and providing "a small IV in your arm that provides the necessary treatment to continue the party or just get back to your normal self." They have two packages, the "Redemption" package for $90 that provides IV hydration only, and the "Salvation" Package for $150 that provides relief through their "Proprietary treatment" which they say contains intravenous hydration, an anti-emetic, an anti-inflammatory medication, and a "Vitamin supplement" package.

You should really read their website yourself. Some copywriter did a great job of selling what I can only surmise to be a banana bag, ondansetron, and toradol. Those meds and the IV fluid will most probably cure any hangover quite handily. While I think this is a bit cheesy… I've got nothing but respect for their plan. Heck, if anything I'm jealous that I hadn't thought about it first. While I'm not licensed to practice EMS in Nevada, I could easily cruise around the streets of Milwaukee, Madison, or Chicago in my ambulance providing the same services to the over-imbibed folks in those fair cities. If we could ask for cash up front, like I'm sure they are, we could probably pull in a few thousand a week doing this. For that kind of coin any city could afford to fund the pension plan and give the nice EMS folks a hefty raise.

What I'm saying is, come on cash-strapped municipalities, belly up to the bedside and get your medical directors to authorize this service. Your budget woes are a thing of the past!

I do have a few questions though:

  • Is this legal? The owner is an anesthesiologist, but there is no mention of who is actually providing the service.

 

  • I'm a Nationally Registered Paramedic… are you hiring? Please?

 

  • Are you selling franchises? Cuz I could use one here in Wisconsin and Illinois real bad. I'd start my own but I'd need a medical director who would be willing… and the ones around here are probably spoil sports

 

  • Although… I haven't yet asked them if they  are ok with this. They could be. Perhaps it's better that you just sell me a franchise real quick and real cheap-like and we can just keep the brand-name going strong.

In all seriousness. Think of what effect this could have on the already overused emergency healthcare system in the city. I mean, if even 10% of the people who are going to be seen by this bus would have otherwise ended up in the emergency rooms getting largely the same treatment, this company could sincerely ease some of the burden on the healthcare system. It's definitely a cheaper alternative. Even their $150 treatment is way cheaper than a trip to the ER. This bus could immediately benefit the entire system by giving patients an alternative to the traditional, significantly costlier, methods. It will save insurance companies and governmental healthcare payors thousands and free up the ERs from taking care of this patient demographic.

I really do think they're on to something. Wish I'd have thought of it first.The success of this business will go to prove something. If it survives and thrives, then EMS can also find free-market alternatives that will help save our profession and the communities we serve. Obviously it can be done.

In other news, kudos to the State of Maine, who authorized funding for Community Paramedicine. Bravo guys, way to intellegently look for real solutions to your healthcare budget woes. I tip my hat to you. – http://www.jems.com/article/news/new-community-paramedicine-law-maine-loo

Notice anything similar?

Back in the Saddle Again!

4 comments

Back when I was a high-school student I was completely enamored with EMS. I just couldn’t wait to slip into a uniform and get out on the streets of an ambulance. While in retrospect maybe I could have refocused the energy I spent researching the EMS gig into something a little more profitable, the sheer amount of stuff I read about EMS in my formative years helps me in my job to this day.

One of the earliest EMS blogs I ever read was one that I found back in High School. I forget the name of it now and I would guess that it isn’t even still up there on the interwebs anymore. However, the writer’s acerbic descriptions of his own life under the lights of an ambulance were hilarious and fascinating to me. I’ve never forgotten the words he wrote.

I was reminded again of one of his stories this morning when I was getting off shift. I’m finally back in the back of an ambulance after spending some time at my secret-squirrel job and I’m loving it. While I wish I got paid more to do what I love, I do truly love what I do. This morning was no different. Again, the EMS gods had me laughing until I cried while an elderly lady screamed in sheer terror.

Yes, I said that. No, I’m not a monster. You would probably have laughed too. Hard.

This morning the radio decided to wake me up around 0430 for the tip-up of the uninjured fall victim. I went, assessed, found nothing, and tipped the poor guy up back into bed. It was a simple call. He signed off on a refusal form, and all was right with the world again. I went back to the station to write the report and after some time spent in between dozing and typing on the Toughbook, I finished my report around 0600. By then it was too late to go back to bed and sleep for an hour, so I stayed up to wash the ambulance and make sure the shift chores were done. It’s the custom at our company to leave the quarters pristine for the oncoming shift, so we do a full cleaning in the morning before shift change. It works for us.

Around 0630, my partner and protégé Chadwick sauntered in to the station. The poor kid had been ran hard and put away wet the day before and looked unapologetically fresh in contrast to as haggard as I looked. Darn Kids. As he helped me dry the trucks and sweep the floor, I was teasing him about catching a late call.

“Can you feel it, Chad?” I would ask. “Right now, there’s some guy that’s waking up and walking up to the toilet for his morning dump who’s gonna vasovagal out and seize on the bathroom floor. It’s your call so when you kneel down, try to avoid the skid marks.”

I kept razzing him as time went on, and when we finished washing the trucks we walked outside to enjoy the crisp, bratwurst-and-cheese-scented Wisconsin morning.

“Did you hear that?” I asked, “that was someone hitting the floor”.

And amazingly, right then the tones went off. It was for a medical alarm that had been activated at a non-medical senior-living high-rise in town. Coincidentally, it was for a fall victim in the bathroom.

Nice.

Chadwick mumbled something that might have been profane I’d think if he wasn’t such a Bible-Thumper and hopped in the truck. I drove because it was his call. On went the lights before I opened the bay door. I think it’s more dramatic if I turn the lights on before I open the door. It just looks cooler that way. Johnny and Roy did it, so I can too. I also wear my helmet like they did. Yay me.

We arrived on scene right before the less-than-optimally-caffeinated police officer who was responding with us. He was able to finagle the key out of the knox box and let us into the building. Apparently last week one of our crew had gotten fed up with the key not being in the box at this building and had opened the lock in a gentle, professional way using his foot. Apparently the building management wasn’t happy with them for doing that, especially since it was for a call that turned out to be a false-trip of a medical alarm. Today we found the key in the box… weird how that happens.

Chadwick and I deftly navigated the long hallway and the small elevator up to the third floor with our stretcher and all equipment in tow. Hypo-caffeine Copper tagged along, and we found the door to the apartment locked up tight. Luckily for the maintenance man, he had the key right handy for us to use.

We entered the apartment with us yelling “Ambulance!” and him yelling “Police Department!”  I thought it was redundant, but hey… he needed to wake up and yelling something helps that. We heard the sound of a running shower and walked towards the bathroom yelling our respective titles.

The patient heard us, no doubt, and did her best Wicked Witch of the West impression as she yelled “Ohhh Myyyy GAAaaawwwd!” We explained again about the whole “Ambulance!” and “Police Department!” thing, but she was having none of it. We told her that somehow her button had gotten pressed and that the machine had called us, but that didn’t seem to ease her fright at having three strapping young men in uniform show up to help her shower, apparently.

After much consternation on her part, and my starting to laugh the tears out of my eyeballs we thanked the lady, apologized for her fright, and cleared the scene to head to the police department for the fresh pot of coffee the officer said he was dreaming about. We hung out, and since I’m a renaissance Medic I tweeted in a HIPAA friendly manner about the call.

Some of the responses included such things as:

 “So I guess the Medical Alarm button is now the ‘Bring Someone to Wash My Back Button??”

And,

“If she pressed the button and got three young public safety types to show up and help her in the shower, is there a way that I, personally could get the button for my own use? We’d have to have a gender setting, of course… As I require attractive young members of the other gender to help me with my showering endeavors”

And,

(something that was absolutely HILARIOUS regarding “Old Lady Boob” that I have redacted from my blog site, you’ll just have to get on to Twitter to see humor of that caliber)

So after this morning’s antics and activities, I can safely say that I absolutely love my job again. I never stopped, but I’m happy that I came back refreshed from my hiatus. I missed the people we see, their twisted humor, and their acerbic personalities. It’s just like the first EMS blog I read said it would be and I praise whomever he was for his accurate description.

Sorry about the lapse in posting, y’all. I’m back and am loving it. Hope you are all too.

Paramedics and EMTs are Special, a salute to the Spork!

11 comments
Ah, the humble Spork. At once it is an example of utility and futility. It is well suited to nothing but bridging the gap between the usefulness of its parent utensils and the burden of having to provide a separate spoon and fork. Sporks are great for when you need to have an eating utensil that is suited to a variety of food consumption scenarios but do not have the space nor the gumption to provide separate utensils. Sporks can perform lots of tasks but they do nothing very well. While I love the concept and the fact that the name is *really* fun to say (Spork? Spork… Spork!!), eating anything with a spork is a challenge. I mean, have you ever tried to eat soup with a spork? You’ll end up wearing a percentage of it. Heaven forbid that you have to use it to hold something you have to cut with a knife like a piece of meat. It’s nearly impossible. I suppose that eating salad with a spork would be fairly manageable but not if you have a lot of non-lettucy stuff in the salad like cherry tomatoes, mushrooms, and/or pepperoni. Honestly, who wants a salad that is comprised only of rabbit food? 

Die hard Sporksters, that's who

However, I digress. What I’m trying to say is that the spork, the half-breed malformation of a spoon and a fork, has its place as a substitute for either when it is not economical to provide both. Like its lesser known brother the “knork”, it is a natural idea and a somewhat cool concept. However, there is a very clear reason that the spoon and the fork are separate utensils. There are specific purposes for the design of the spoon and the fork and good reason to have separate tools that are suited to the kind of tasks that they’re used for. The spork is the watered down version of both. It can somewhat perform the tasks of its parents, but not well. It is the “Jack of all trades, Master of none” if you will.

And that is why I’m writing about our humble friend the Spork in my usual rotation of EMS topics. A conversation I had on Twitter the other day with my tweeps @pgsilva and @rescue_monkey brought up the spectre of why exactly ambulances aren’t staffed with nurses and physicians’ assistants and are instead staffed with Paramedics and EMTs. PG and The Rescue Monkey thought that the conversation would make that vein pop out of my forehead like it does sometimes when I get enraged. They were mistaken. It doesn’t make me angry. In fact, I informed everyone that I would write a post on what exactly it makes me think about. This is that post.

The “Why don’t nurses and/or (insert title of healthcare provider here) staff ambulances debate” has a clear answer for me. Here it is:

EMS providers are sporks. We’re also not sporks. We exist in the realm of both the specific and the generalized. We are jacks of all trades and the master of the non-specific. EMS providers are generalized in nature and that generalization is specialized into the random nature of the work in which we perform.

Or women with sporks, you know. That too.

Are you confused? Well that’s understandable. Let’s look at it this way. The ultimate healthcare provider has always been the physician. Since the beginning of western medicine, the physician has always been the healer that people have turned to. Physicians are learned professionals who seek to learn and apply knowledge to the human condition in the name of healing. Physicians are “clinicians” in the fact that they make a clinical diagnosis based upon an examination of a patient and then devise a proper treatment path to treat a patient’s diagnosis. They physician assesses a patient, makes a diagnosis of the patient’s condition based upon their knowledge base and ongoing research, and then uses that same knowledge base and research in order to devise the best treatment possible for the patient. It’s the definition of a clinician.

Nurses, and their modern incarnation as the Registered Professional Nurse (RN) developed as the ultimate assistant to the physician. Their goal was to be the caregiver, the person with enough medical knowledge to continue the care plan and treatment that the physician determined with the compassion and the ability to meet the ongoing needs of the patient. While the physician devoted their efforts to learning and education, the nurse required less education and more compassion. Medical technology and knowledge has expanded greatly and has required the nurse to develop a vast array of knowledge and a myriad of specializations, but their basic function has remained the same. They care for patients in the long term during their convalescence from an illness or injury.

Physicians and nurses have worked in concert. They have developed a system where the sick and injured are brought to them so they may take care of them using the resources they gather together. Each of them performs their role with the goal of making people get better. As knowledge of medicine has increased, different types of physicians and nurses have developed into specialties. The general practitioner acts as a gatekeeper to specialties and treats the most common maladies and is assisted by nurses qualified to care for the largest population of patients. Specialists, such as Cardiologists, Oncologists, and Surgeons, have developed to allow patients the benefit of having people treat them who have sought out to become experts in exactly the illness that the patient may have. The nurses have adapted and have become specialized in their own right, with nursing specialties that complement the specialties of the physician.

However, there is a drawback to all of this specialization. When you have a malady that affects your feet, you would benefit being under the care of the podiatrist. However, you wouldn’t get the best care possible if the only physician available were a cardiologist. The same holds true for the oncologist that attempts to treat your pulmonary condition or for the proctologist who treats your sore throat. While the basic concepts are there, the specialization of focus is not. To be sure, while a person who has graduated from medical school may be able to treat pretty much any condition that you may have at a level that is basically adequate, specialists have devoted their time in the quest of knowledge in their specific area at the possible expense of their knowledge of other areas. This is a good thing, and it’s the reason that pretty much every hospital is full of people with vast arrays of knowledge in singular topics. This system wasn’t designed. Like capitalism the system designed itself. It works and works well, most of the time. However when economics dictate a limited number of available specialties, certain conditions may be left out.

Nurses have done much the same. While the basic concepts are the same pretty much across the board, a School Nurse would have trouble transitioning into the operating theatre as much as the Oncology nurse would have trouble transitioning into public health. Both of them can probably change a bedpan, start an IV, pass medication, or lend a caring smile in the same manner but the oncology nurse would be much more well versed in the management of chemotherapy drugs and chronic pain management than a would be a surgical nurse.

This brings us to Paramedics and EMTs. We are a profession born out of necessity and forged in battle. Really. We can thank Napoleon for bringing forth the first example of the “flying ambulance” which was a brigade of horse-drawn ambulances staffed by medically trained soldiers. They appeared on the battlefield during the Napoleonic wars and boasted that “No soldier lay with undressed wounds for more than a quarter of an hour”. Battlefield “Medics” have always been on the forefront of emergency acute care in the field. While some examples of ambulance care available to the civilian population exist, in the US it wasn’t until after the Vietnam War that civilian emergency ambulance service became popular and seen as a need rather than a nice thing to have. While physicians often made house calls where they travelled to the patient to provide care, in the interest of efficiency they began to confine themselves in clinics and hospitals where they could more efficiently care for larger patient volumes. With the publishing of the “EMS White Paper” entitled “Accidental Death and Disability: The Neglected Disease of Modern Society”  in 1966, the attention of the public was focused on the need for an effort to extend care out of the walls of the hospital or clinic. The white paper laid out statistics of trauma, stated the need for injury prevention and education, and stated the need for standardization of emergency medical training. The US. Dept. of Transportation took up the mantle of the new Emergency Medical Services system due to the alarming number of fatalities on the burgeoning highway system and modern EMS was born.

"Stick a Spork in me, I'm done" should be part of your daily speech patterns

The EMT and the Paramedic are the equivalent of sticking a spork in the problem and calling it done. EMTs were cheap to train, cheap to employ, and could be widely distributed out there in the field. At the time, it was the perfect solution. Train people in how to perform in the first few moments of a severe injury or acute illness and give them the ability to safely transport a patient to a hospital where the physicians could work in concert to help heal the patient. The nurses, in their role as the assistants to the physicians, stayed in the walls of the hospital or clinic and developed within their specialties. The system grew and developed as the innovators in the field saw more and more acute treatments that could be performed by these new breed of healthcare providers and as the EMTs and Paramedics proved themselves in service.

EMTs and Paramedics are clinicians in the sense that we evaluate a patient and develop a treatment plan that we follow to help them. Our specialty is in the acute, the treatment of disease in the here and now. If it’s happening to a patient and it is directly threatening their life, chances are that an EMT or Paramedic can intervene in a meaningful way. Our specialty is to stabilize and stop the progression of the acute disease process or chain-of-events in an injury that will eventually lead to death. We plug holes and we do it with a knowledge base taught to us by physicians. Our generalization is across the entire spectrum of possible patients, from field delivery of neonates, to jumping in to help stabilize patients in outpatient surgery centers, to taking care of the elderly in nursing homes. Whether a patient is crushed in an industrial machine, is trapped in a rural car accident, is having a heart attack on a baseball diamond, or whatever happens to a person wherever it happens to them, the Paramedic or EMT is the person most specialized in coming to their aid. We gain knowledge and hone experience not just in the treatment of our patients’ medical conditions, but also in the environmental circumstances in which we find them. We may be generalized sporks when it comes to treating any possible injury or acute illness across any patient population, but we’re highly specialized utensils when it comes to treating emergency conditions anywhere at any time.

"Sporks and Phasers" would be a good name for a Rock Band

No other healthcare provider fits into our role… and that seems to make us a full-fledged utensil in my opinion. We are unclassifiable into any other role yet indispensable for our own.

And we need to get out there and let everybody know just how special that role is. Nobody has developed the breadth of knowledge in our specialty that we have. We have made the spork our own.

And that, folks is my answer to why no other healthcare professional can quite full our role. While as a paramedic I am competent in the basic skills needed to say, work in a endoscopy unit, I would not function there to the level of a person experienced and knowledgeable as an endoscopy nurse. Neither would they be able to manage a traumatic airway upside down in a crushed automobile at night as well as I would. It’s my specialty to do the latter, not the former, even though the basic skills may be the same.

For more on this, g’head and read “Any Random Person” an older post of mine. Then get out there and shine up your sporks.

Foot-in-Mouth-Itis. Stupid Things We Say in EMS

21 comments

A letter I received from a reader who states that she is a paramedic student has gotten me thinking. I’m going to include her letter in this post with her permission, but before I do I would like to speak a little bit about things that we say to patients. EMS and all of emergency medicine tends to be full of emotionally charged situations being handled by emotionally drained people. Sometimes our experience in dealing with situations that lay people find to be traumatic can lend itself to our making comments that we find perfectly acceptable to make at the time we make them, and yet upon reflection seem like the wrong thing to have said. I can’t tell you just how many times I’ve been in trouble for my mouth. I will say something that I intend to relieve the tension of a situation and to provide comic relief that I think is cute and funny, completely thinking that it is above-board and not-offensive to anyone, and then find out that some wet-blanket took offense.

Honestly, I make it my policy never to make a dirty joke. All of my “patient friendly jokes” are clean enough to tell to my five-year-old with nary an off-color word or adult reference in sight and sometimes still people look at me like I’ve dropped a live weasel in the ball-pit at the McDonald’s Play Land. Like some random time ago where a patient who had overdosed, scratched her wrists with a dull knife, and was found trying to hang herself apologized to me during my assessment of her because she hadn’t shaved her legs. I said “Oh that’s quite alright, Ma’am.. You weren’t planning on needing them anymore and besides, you shaved your wrists real nice”. I believe the question I got from my partner after the call was “Does your Brain-Mouth filter even work anymore?!” He was laughing as he said it, so obviously it was funny. The patient laughed too.

I have stock comments to the common questions and situations that come up on calls that I trot out when needed to liven up the situation. Some are movie quotes, some are lines that I’ve stolen from other providers, and some are straight up from my strange brain. Like when I find someone lying in bed that needs to be lifted over from the bed to the cot with a sheet and a couple of people. Some beds are way too wide for me to work from my feet and it’s often useful to crawl right in bed alongside the patient to lift them over. I ask them “So when was the last time you had a strange man in your bed?” The unconscious ones almost always laugh. I have yet to have an older lady blush and be embarrassed and the comments I get back are always entertaining. Also, when I’m palpating an area of a patient’s body to see where they’re hurting such as for an injured extremity or the like, if the patient yelps out in pain when I touch something I excitedly declare “Found it!!” It’s much to their relief to know that I know where it is that they hurt. I also have what I call the “Poor Man’s X-Ray”. If someone thinks that something’s broken on their body, I grab it, give it a good squeeze and a shake, and ask them if it hurts. If they say “Yea that hurts” it’s probably not fractured. If they say “YEeeeeEEaaargh!!!” it probably is.  

So, exactly how serious do you think I’m being with all of that above there? Here’s the test. If you took me serious enough that you want to call my medical director to tell him to pull my license… I was joking!! Ha Ha!

I remember probably the worst thing that I’ve ever said to a patient ever, and in all seriousness I still feel bad about this comment to this day. Early on in my career I worked as a Security Guard *slash* EMT at a big regional 400 bed hospital/trauma center/psyche center/everything center. Usually I worked alone on weekend nights and it was an absolute zoo. While this was one of the most enjoyable jobs I’ve ever held, I was in way over my head for an eighteen year-old country boy working in the big city. One day we had a patient come in who had been witnessed swallowing baggies full of what was presumed to be crack cocaine during a traffic stop. He was belligerent as all heck, swearing at us and trying to swing at the police officers who brought him in, the nurses, and myself. He looked at me and said “So what the (colorful word) is going to happen to me now you (something my mother would be unhappy with me if I typed on my blog, or even thought about for that matter)” I asked him “So, are you a religious man?” To which he replied “Blankety-Blank No!! You Blankety Blankin Blank blank!” I said back to him “Well you probably should be, because you’ll need to be saying some prayers”. Then he seized and went into V-Fib. I have no idea if he survived. I honestly feel really, really bad about that. I wish I hadn’t have said it.

So when you read this letter, go easy on the paramedic student who sent it in. She seems to feel pretty bad about saying what she said and since I’m going easy on her, you probably should too.

Here it is:

I did something colossally stupid today.   Something so… irresponsible and cocky that I truly can’t believe I allowed it to happen.

I allowed myself… to assume.

To assume that as a paramedic student I knew enough about a patient’s condition that I could safely make a statement to a family member, when in reality, I should have just kept my mouth shut.

It was careless. It was reckless, and it resulted in a family being given false hope.

He was brought into the ER by two of his daughters for a syncopal episode. He hadn’t been feeling well for a few days, and his daughters had been forcing him to eat. When they found him on the floor next to his bed writhing in pain, they loaded him up and drove him over to the local ER.

His VS upon arrival were… less than ideal. Hypoglycemic, hypothermic, hypotensive.   He had the hypo’s covered. His coloring was even less impressive than his vitals. A few amps of D50 and some warm blankets later and we had 2/3′s of the hypo’s resolved. He was no longer altered, he was flirting with the nurses, and the color had improved.

Still, his BP was crap. His tank was dry. He needed fluids, and after his third liter bag, his BP in the 60′s started to creep it’s way towards 70 and 75. I did a happy dance in my head.

Then it happened.

I was removing some of his blankets and replacing them with some that were straight from the warmer when daughter number 3 asked me a question. “His blood pressure is still so low, should we be worried?” Me. The only one in the room with them that had any medical experience.

Five sets of eyes were on me in an instant.

I finished tucking a piping hot blanket in and casually said something to the effect of, “His BP is coming up, he’s just a bit dehydrated. One more bag and I’d be willing to bet that his pressure is better than mine.”

Ugh. How could I let myself say something like that?

I didn’t know that he had a fractured hip.
I didn’t know he was in kidney failure.
I didn’t know he had a leaking AAA.

I didn’t know the complete picture, and I should have just kept my mouth shut.

I guess it goes without saying, but his blood pressure never came up. It dropped, and it dropped again, and it dropped again.

The family was informed of the complete picture. A DNR was signed. Hospice was called. He died before he could even make it to the inpatient hospice facility.

A family was given hope, because I gave it to them. And I had no right to do that. Watching them emerge from a family consultation room, one by one with blood shot eyes, holding each other when just two hours earlier they had been laughing and joking with their father…

That was probably the hardest lesson that I’ve learned in school. It’s one I’ll never forget, or forgive myself for.

——————————- 

So the student who wrote this letter expects to be flamed for it… I’m willing to bet that the response will be just the opposite. We’ve all been there. We’ll all be there again.

What about you?

Advances in Prehospital Analgesia and Conscious Sedation

10 comments

Pain is endemic within Emergency Medical Services, whether it’s the pain from a grotesque traumatic injury, the chest pain from a heart attack, or the emotional pain suffered by the local teenage drama queen in response to a minor texting-while-driving incident. EMTs and Paramedics must become better at overall pain management and in conscious sedation. Luckily, there are researchers and pioneers working on new and innovative strategies for just that end.

Researchers at the Plover, WI Polytechnic Institute of Cosmetology and Cheese Making  (PPICCM) have been bringing some cutting edge research to the forefront of Prehospital Pain Management and Prehospital Conscious Sedation and have released some new technologies for use in the field. They have field tested these devices in the dive bars in and around Plover on Friday and Saturday nights and even once or twice on the infamous “TwoFer Tuesdays” down at MoeLarry’s Curly Fries and Cheese Bar. They have come up with compelling data that your agency should consider for your own use.

Tradtionally, EMS providers have had a few choices for use in prehospital analgesia and conscious sedation. Advanced providers and paramedics have injectable medications for use, and basic level providers and EMTs have basic splinting and positioning for use in controlling severe pain and the secret weapon for use in putting people to sleep. These medications, including Morphine, Fentanyl, Toradol, Aspirin, and sometimes Nitronox have proven to be very effective, but all of them carry with them side effects and the risk of allergic reactions that can prove fatal in some patients. So can the medications used in Drug Assisted or Rapid Sequence Intubation Techniques: Etomidate, Succynocholine, and the like. To reduce the risk of poor outcomes from these medications, the researchers at PPICCM have developed the following tools:

  • The Open Handed Slap – This is effective as a calming technique for persons who have become hysterical due to superficial trauma to their fingers as well as for family members overcome with emotion due to their loved-one’s bout of indigestion. An example is included below:

 

  • The Mallet Method of Anesthesia Induction – Pioneered by the indomitable Drs Moe, Larry, and Curly (and previously by Dr. Shemp), the use of mallets in induction of conscious sedation is well documented. Simple, yet elegant in it’s use, cranial contact by the fast-moving business end of a mallet is highly effective in reducing any complaints of pain from a patient. In fact, just the visual feedback recieved from opening the case the mallet is stored in and showing the patient that you are preparing to use said mallet is effective in reducing complaints from most alert patients. However, if needed for use, one or two blows in rapid succession is shown to be quite effective in the literature. An example is included below:

 

  • Transcutaneous Oxygen Therapy (TOT-WTYTR) - This method involves pressing the external wall of a “D” sized oxygen cylinder against a bony prominence of a patient in the throws of a violent reaction towards EMS providers. Use of TOT can be handled by both Basic and Advanced providers and it’s effects are determined by the speed and location of the bony prominence that the side wall of the oxygen cylinder is applied to. Lower extremities can be calming while the head and cranium can induce anesthesia and facilitate Rapid Sequence Intubation in most patients. Unfortunately, there is no accompanying video literature for this particular therapy, however it is a simple technique to learn.

Thanks to the brilliant scientists at the PPICCM, prehospital anesthesia and analgesia is in good hands. These simple yet powerful techniques are scheduled to be released for use by my agencies on April Fools Day and should NEVER EVER be used by yours. Ta’ Y’all. Happy Spring.

Why I am Passionate about the Chronicles of EMS

15 comments

If you’re an EMS professional, you should be paying attention to the Chronicles of EMS.

I think every person involved in EMS on any level needs to pay attention to the work of three of the profession’s upcoming giants, Mark Glencourse, Justin Schorr, and Thaddeus Setla. Their collective project is a warp-leap forward for how our profession is presented to, judged by, and thought about by our internal and external observers, customers, and colleagues. With their efforts come Hope… Hope that one day soon EMS will take its rightful place as a true profession; Hope that our profession will get the paid the attention that it deserves; Hope that our educational standards, resource needs, and compensation will finally be improved; and Hope that we will be able to improve our total service to our patients and our community through shedding a new light on our profession.

If this works… everything could change. Everything could change quickly, incredibly, and wonderfully. Imagine if EMS became “cool” and the public finally thought about who we are, what we are, and what it is that we do for them. Imagine if people demanded that their community leaders pay as much attention to EMS as we need them too… Just Imagine.

EMS needs a strong, unified message. The Chronicles of EMS can be that message. It is a professional, smart, and uber-cool message aimed straight at where we want to be going. It is not lip service, it is not Hollywood glamour, and it is certainly not dramatized for profit. It is being prepared by industry-experts who are still working the same streets that we are everyday. Everyone involved is one of us. Everyone involved is passionate. Everyone involved wants this, and they want it as bad as you do.

The reason I write about EMS is because I want to improve our profession and our service to others. I want to make this better so bad that I can taste it and I’m willing to work as hard as I have to. Our patients and our communities deserve the best we can give them and I believe that key to fixing EMS is communication and the spreading of our message. This blog exists for that reason and so do the other blogs in this genre. The other bloggers, authors, speakers, and writers I’ve met have all spoken to me of the same goals. Our profession exists to save lives and alleviate suffering and improving our profession help us save more lives and alleviate more suffering in our communities. EMS does indeed make a difference out there in the world and we’re the ones doing it. The Chronicles of EMS is a great beacon of hope in our collective quest.

EMS Deserves More. Our Patients deserve more; Our Families deserve more; and yes… We deserve more. Mark, Justin, Ted, and everyone involved in the Chronicles of EMS are working hard to give us just that. They deserve our support and our attention.

I’ll be in San Francisco on March 11th for the premier of their pilot episode. I wouldn’t miss it for anything. Look out world, EMS is moving forward.

Firefighter Vs. Nursing Home – I can relate, can you?

5 comments

Yesterday morning when I came into work, the guys were laughing about something playing on one of their cell phones. Being that I work with some um, “colorful personalities”, it literally could have been anything playing on that little screen and heck yea I was interested in seeing what it was they were busting a gut over.

The video, surprisingly related to EMS for that setting, was one of those videos made with the lego characters entitled “Firefighter Vs. Nursing Home” and I immediately related to it. The setting is supposed to be a nursing home, the “firefighter” in the video is supposed to be a paramedic or EMT, and it’s as funny as it is sad. It’s funny because you hear the “nurse” talking in the video and she’s saying things that you’ve heard from every nursing home you’ve ever been in. I mean, this could have been the “nursing” home up the street from me, or one of the myriad up the street from me in my other job, or any one of the ones in any place I’ve ever worked.

Let me know if you’ve heard these phrases:

“I just came on shift”, “She’s not my patient”, “She’s altered”, “I don’t know her history”.

If you’ve been in EMS for like, 5 minutes and have been to ONE “Nursing Home”, you’ve heard these phrases. It’s like there’s a nursing home handbook that every person that works in one has to read to get the phrases that they’re supposed to use with EMS providers… Really it’s uncanny how similar this is to hundreds of interactions I’ve had with nursing home staff.

I’ve embedded the video below here… and I have to put some warnings on here. First of all: There is some blue language, including a few utterances of the grand poobah of swear words. There’s also a reference or two to an “adult situation”, and obviously the person who made this (and I don’t know who it was, it was not me) was expressing huge amounts of frustration with his or her own interactions with “nursing” home staff. So if you don’t want to hear swear words, sassy-talk, and a reference to an adult situation, don’t watch it.

Oh, if you’re a nursing home nurse, or a CNA, or anyone who has worked in a nursing home, or has a friend who’s worked in a nursing home, or has someone who might work in a nursing home that you might be friends with and you’re mad at me for putting this up there… here’s my stock reply:

“Not everyone who works in every nursing home is a bad person, it just seems that way sometimes”

“Some of y’all are actually almost human beings”

and…

“I sure would NOT want to do your job, I couldn’t… ever… so Thank God for you if you care and you’re good at what you do.”

Zombies!!!

4 comments

I hate horror movies…

A while ago I walked into our crew lounge where the other members of my crew had just popped in some low-budget zombie flick. It was your classic “B-Movie” and had all the hallmarks of every good zombie show that I’ve ever seen. Gratuitous bloodshed by hapless victims? Check. The walking dead feasting on human flesh? Check. A few good looking zombified women? Check and Check. I watched it against my better judgment. I hate horror flicks for all of the above reasons, except for the good looking women of course. I have an annoying habit of taking on the characteristics of every movie that I watch for varying lengths of time. After watching Top Gun, for instance, I drove my car like a fighter pilot for a few days. After watching Star Wars I tried to use the force to get the TV remote from across the room when I lay down on the couch. After watching the South Park Movie I swore every other word. Really. So I don’t like horror flicks because I get scared like a little girl afterwards and I don’t like it.

Unfortunately though, I watched the whole thing like a doofus, knowing full well that I’d be having nightmares later.

Cue the call for the unresponsive seizure victim…

We went to an apartment complex where our patient had fallen into a seizure right by the inward swinging door to his apartment. He had fallen in a way that made it so his body was blocking the door and I could only swing it open a few inches, just enough for me to squeeze inside. He was pretty out of it, and wasn’t responding with anything but unintelligible grunts and groans.

Then, of course, he moved and shut the door, blocking it with his body and trapping me alone in his apartment with him while he was groaning on the floor.

Does it make me a scaredy cat because I thought I was going to be eaten by a zombie?

I hate horror flicks…

 

Swinging a Sledgehammer and Thinking about the UK… Strange times

10 comments

So here’s the good news. The ambulance service I work for up North, “Ambo’s R’ us” has finally taken the leap and is getting us a new station. Yep, that’s right folks. I will no longer be living in squalor whilst working up here in the vast frozen wastelands.

Except for one little hitch in the gittyup.

In big ambulance services, when one gets a new station, usually the service employs people to work on the station, build and/or remodel the station, and move the stuff from the old location to the new one. Not so in a small, rural ambulance service. Nooooo…. Here, a paramedic is expected not only to work on the ambulance during their shift, they’re also expected to put on their tradesman hat and get their hands dirty.

So, yep… today Ckemtp was not *just* a paramedic. Today yours truly was a demolition man, a moving man, a wall-paper remover, and a carpenter’s apprentice. All of my crew mates were today too, as were the crews yesterday, and so will be the crews who are unlucky enough to come work ambulance shift any time in the next couple of weeks.

But here’s my mea culpa confession folks: I’m not handy.

There, I said it. I am so not handy that hardware stores actually have my picture up on their walls stating that I must ask for staff permission to enter their premises. Apparently they want someone to follow me around with a fire extinguisher because there’s a concern that I might come into contact with a carriage bolt or something and the resulting sparks will start a fire. I, like most of my colleagues, became paramedics because we’re generally not handy enough to get a good paying job in the construction and/or “real job” industry.

What’s that you say? You’re a full-time paramedic/EMT and you own/work/watch a construction business on the side? Well good for you. I don’t. I write stuff about stuff and ride ambos.

The dreaded “other duties as assigned” clause in my job description is being stretched so thin here that you can hear it singin’ in the wind. I didn’t sign up for this. It’s actually very hazardous to my health and well being for me to be doing anything remotely construction or “handyman” related.

There’s a lot of reasons why, the risk of fire, explosion, and/or structural collapse being amongst them… but they’re not the real reasons that I’m so worried about this. You see, I have a lovely wife named Gkemtp(it) who is the absolute light of my life. However, together we own a home which happens to be the scourge of my existence. Like EVERY guy who owns a home, my home is full of things that are disintegrating at an alarming rate. There’s ALWAYS something that needs fixing and they rarely respond to an IV, o2, and monitor. Heck, even my clock radio didn’t do well with defibrillation. I can’t give my clothes dryer Epinephrine to get it started again, my clogged drain didn’t respond to a heparin bolus, and my leaky faucet leaked right through an occlusive dressing. I just don’t understand my home and its malfunctions the way I understand humans and their maladies. It’s awful.

So my wife knows that I am the opposite of the handyman… and she’s pretty ok with it, lest she nag and have me end up breaking something much, much worse than it was before I tried to fix it. I *like* that she’s ok with it… And I don’t need her to think that I came to work, built us a shiny new ambo station, and learned how to be Bob Vila with an NREMT-P patch. It’s bad enough that I clean toilets, vacuum, and do dishes here at work. If she found that out, she might make me do more of that at home.

So I’m stuck here. I’m destined to make anything I fix much worse than it was before, I’m destined to demolish something I’m not supposed to demolish, and I’m destined to make an egregious wiring error that’s going to burn the place down while I’m sleeping inside of it and I won’t even get to go to the fire because I’m on ambulance detail!

Maybe I should move to the UK and work with my good buddy Mark Glencourse, of Medic999 fame. One of the biggest things I took from the Chronicles of EMS, his and Justin Schorr’s (The Happy Medic) foray into cross-national EMS exchange (Soon to be an AWESOME TV show!!) is that UK firefighters DON’T CLEAN THEIR OWN STATION! Yes. They FREAKING HAVE CLEANING CREWS THAT COME IN AND CLEAN UP ALL BUT THE MOST SUPERFICIAL MESSES! Hell, they even have a bona-fide chef to cook for them.

And here I am, scrubbing toilets and swingin’ a sledge hammer here in the ‘States.

So, I’ll keep toiling until I break something so bad that they make me go post somewhere where I can’t hurt myself, and Mark will keep living in the lap of luxury.

Maybe being a Limey isn’t so bad.

A quick Shoutout to EMS Chick

6 comments

EMS Chick has shared a bit of my EMS geekery on her blog “That’s BLS, not BS” (which is a title I just love). She wrote a post about decontaminating the ambulance from a LOT of mud… and um, showering with EMS equipment too…

http://emschick9.blogspot.com/2009/12/hidden-joys-of-ems.html

I wonder what results one would get if they fired up Our Friend Google and typed in “EMS Chicks Showering with EMS Equipment”. Are ya back? Good, now try it with the “safe search” off. (Note to my wife, I did not try this)

Take care everyone

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

3 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.

Lie Back and Do Whatever the Nice Officer Says

1 comment

File this one under: “Life Training”

So I’m on shift the other day and my soon-to-be wife calls me up and announces: “I just got tazed!!” and she seems happy about this.

“Come again?” I asked. “I was down at the police department for training, and they asked if there were any more volunteers to get tazed and I did! Sheryl (our photographer for the FD) got it on video!”

So again I win the competition that I have going with my friends entitled “My wife is crazier than your wife”. My lovely future wife is a firefighter/EMT as well and is big on the idea that female firefighters have to be 25 times tougher than their male counterparts. Really. She is a tough little cookie. Around 5 feet of dynamite that can out run, out lift, out work, and generally out play most of the males on the department. Being that I am her fiancé, and I have to marry this crazy, crazy woman at the end of the month, I now find myself having to keep up with her as she sets off to conquer the world. It means that I have to pretend to be at least as tough as she is (because I’ve given up trying to be more tough than she is) or the guys on the department will tease me mercilessly about such themes as: 1. “G” wearing the pants in the family. 2. “G” being the one they want on the nozzle and I should engineer or something. 3. Things that I don’t want my mother reading about. 4. Etcetera, etc. This woman is trying to find a t-shirt that says “If I had balls, they’d be bigger than yours”.

I saw the video and I may post it if I can get permission, but it’s just… well, awesome. I recoiled in horror the first time I watched it, because hearing my beloved scream like that is painful, but after watching it repeatedly because I just couldn’t stop myself, I now want the scream as my ring tone. If I do get permission, I envision it being the top result on YouTube searches regarding “hot firefighter chick being tazed”. You can see her being shot (YES!! They ACTUALLY SHOT HER WITH THE BARBS!) and then screaming this horrible, horrible, awesome scream, and then falling down.

My first thought on this was “Dang, now I gotta do it”.

I couldn’t let her be the only one in the fire department and the family that has volunteered to let themselves experience horrible pain. If I did, then she would have something to hold over my head in the whole “Who’s tougher” competition and our fellow firefighters would have a reason to call me something like “Fifi” when compared to my loving bride to be. I couldn’t allow this and as unfortunate for me as it was, I had to be tazed.

I got off shift the next morning and went home and showered, cleaned up, and changed into civvies. Then because I have nothing better to do but volunteer my time to be a Medic/Firefighter instead of something cool like a mountain biker or something, I went down to the station to see my fiancé, who was working shift. Much to my chagrin, She and the rest of her crew had set up a physical firefighter obstacle course consisting of a 7in high step (3minutes), a line and pulley setup where you had to raise a 50′ roll of 1 ¾ hose 20′, a 165lb dummy drag for 100 feet, a run with a high rise pack 50′ with a set of stairs, and then to top it off, ten pushups at the end of it all. They were planning on doing this with full firefighting gear and an air pack on (which for those of you that don’t know, is about 70 extra pounds give or take). We all did it. I was pretty darn tired at the end of it too. I was happy that I showed up some of the young pups that had set it up as well. No biggie. I mean, I’m in reasonable shape, right?

Then they upped everything. 6 minutes on the stair stepper, two raises, two drags, two sets of stairs, and 20 pushups.

You guessed it, “Dang, now I gotta do it”. My fiancé did. ON AIR. I unfortunately, did not get to do this because I had an appointment and couldn’t be all sweaty, remember the shower? Yes, that’s the reason. Well, that, and I had to call the cop shop and ask to be tazed to prove I was a man. Who knew that relationships would be so complicated? Unfortunately, the cops said that they would be happy to taze me as they were conducting day two of their training exercise and needed a fresh victim. Crap. That meant that I couldn’t hide behind the fact that no sane police department would let somebody be tazed just because they asked. Maybe they would if you were “Askin’ for it” (sic) but not if you just called them and asked. Maybe they did it as a favor for me because I’m a firefighter and I said that I’d sign a waiver. Thanks!

After skipping lunch so I wouldn’t have a full stomach to puke with, and after a haircut because I had a meeting later that afternoon, I walked over to the cop shop. To prep myself, I had um, peed first so I wouldn’t become incontinent (translation: Pee myself like a lil girl) and was practicing leaving my teeth together but not clenched and keeping my tongue away from my teeth. I didn’t want to bite my tongue off or something. Heck, I had no idea what I was getting myself in to, and all I could think about was my Fiance’s hauntingly awesome scream that I’d heard on the video. The fire department send over an ambulance (dual medic) and an engine company to “provide medical coverage” which means they wanted to see me fry and probably wet myself too. (That’s why I peed first, I sure showed them!). Since the PD is just across the street from our station, I walked over.

The cops were preparing before the class. The instructor was a certified taser instructor and had two-page waivers at the ready for any of us who wanted to be tazed to sign. I read it, and signed it. They decided to do the demonstration first, since so many of us had shown up to watch. There were three of us that volunteered: a new recruit for the PD that had to be, and another firefighter and myself that wanted to be… or in my case, didn’t want to be but had to anyway. I wanted to go first because I had a theory on this. I figured that I would go first, so that I wouldn’t see anyone else go through the tazing. I also figured that I wouldn’t let myself think about what was happening to me until after it had happened. I thought that if I just stood there, nonchalant like, and just waited until they shot me that I couldn’t chicken out once it was happening. As long as I didn’t chicken out and just let it happen, It’d be over before I could chicken out.

Awesome plan, right?

So I took my place in front of two mats, pretending to be nonchalant and also that I didn’t know what was about to happen. I did promise myself that I wouldn’t scream though. I promised myself this in the 7 or so freakin hours that they waited while the two gentlemen who were holding me up took their places under my arms to catch me and then everyone talked about what was going to happen. It took seriously like a freaking year for them to taze me. I wanted to yell out “Just taze me, bro!” but I didn’t. I just concentrated on keeping my tongue out of the way of my teeth and telling myself that I wouldn’t scream and pretending I didn’t know that I was about to be tazed and BZZZZZZZZZLGPHYKKAKAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!

I did feel myself screaming, and everyone told me that I screamed really, really loudly. I also knew that I was standing until I fell. Thankfully the two gentlemen on my sides controlled my fall so I didn’t face plant on the pads. I remained conscious throughout and I didn’t pee myself (I’m proud of that). I can’t describe the pain with any justice but I can say that it hurt really, really bad. I remember feeling every muscle in my body contract hard. I remember feeling the alternating pulse of the taser unit making my muscles contract and relax a lot (They say it alternates like 20 times a second) and I remember my only conscious thought was that it was taking way longer than the supposed 5 seconds that it was supposed to. I estimate that it lasted 27.5 years. When it was o
ver, I was laying face down. My low back was killing me like I had just spent two hours doing back extensions. That, however, was the only pain I felt. Once the electricity was off, it was off. I could have popped back up and fought at that point, but I knew that the barbs were still in me and that they were attached to that hell with a trigger. I was in full compliance with the nice police officer and would not have dreamed of doing anything but laying there. The taser has the capability of delivering as many shocks as they want to give you, 5 seconds a pop, with just a pull of the trigger. I couldn’t dream of taking another five seconds. No way.

After they ripped those dang barbs out of me, and Gina ripped a chunk out of me with the first one, I was able to get up and function normally with no adverse effects from the taze. I felt good, solidly in the knowledge that my manhood was intact. Knowing that there is a video of it that is not yet available that probably shows me screaming like a school girl finding her first pimple is less comforting, but I haven’t seen it yet.

My vote on the whole tazer controversy is this: I support them. They really really hurt. It’s unimaginable that I’d ever want to take that again and I was scared to be in the same state as the taser when they shot the other two guys. However, if I was to really be resisting the cops and they exercised other options to control me such as their baton, pepper spray, or an elbow to the face I would still be injured and would have been in a lot more pain that would have lasted longer and required medical attention. I’ve been pepper sprayed before in a former job as a hospital security guard and I was able to keep fighting through it. This would not be possible with a taser. They offer immediate control and no real lasting effects. As I see it, the cops have two options if someone comes after them with a knife: Taze them or shoot them. I vote taser in that scenario.

Best advice ever: Just lie down and do whatever the nice officer tells you to. Well, that and… “Love Hurts”.

———————————-

In probably my next post I’ll tell the story of the other firefighter that got tazed. We had some more fun and hooked him up to a lifepack 12 monitor while we were shocking the crap out of him. Hilarity ensued.

 


Random Plugin By Best Account Services