Change of Pace

Unlike Holden my new fire department utilizes a transporting ambulance stocked at the paramedic level. On my shifts I cross man the ambulance and a Type III 4x4 engine. I spent my in station day tearing the trucks apart memorizing where everything was. And then I did again.

And again.

Earlier in the week I had driven the department owned suburban with my training captain to the various hospitals around the area. I was issued uniforms, ID cards, bunker gear, narcotic codes to be able to work as a medic on the ambulance. I was placed in the Pixis system at our resource hospital. In short we got everything done in order to allow me to work as a fire medic.

The town that hired me has a two lane highway that bisects it. Its six or seven lakes are spread out through out the community, ringed by multi million dollar homes. Mountains on either side form a valley in which the lot of it lays. The moutains also funnel the rain or snowstorms that tend to assault New Hampshire with ever increasing ferocity. In the winter its not uncomon for the town to be shut off from the outside world by record snow falls, transportation possible only in heavy duty four wheel drive vehicles such as the Engine or the Ambulance. In the summer tinder dry conditions and frequent moutain effect lightening can cause massive wildland fires. Conversely, torrential rains can bring flash flodding so bad the department has its own swiftwater rescue team (virtually every firefighter and firemedic, myself included, is trained in swiftwater.) The long flat highway devoid of any real turns or obstacles ensures that when a crash occurs it will most likely be very bad.
I had wanted to work for Truckee Fire District in northern California for a very long time. Because of the rugged mountain terrain and weather patterns it seemed to be the best place for me to get a lot of experience in different types of situations. After I had broken up with my ex, I had traveled down to the DC area in an effort to get on various county wide fire services. Then I met my now fiance (to be married in exactly 13 days but, shit, whose counting?). She established herself in New England as a Vet Technician, a nurse/paramedic for animals and I knew that trying to ask her to accompany me across the country away from our families wouldn't cut it. So instead Iwent to the most progressive New England state I could find. New Hampshire's EMS protocols rival those of California in their scope of practice for field paramedics. Firefighters in New Hampshire are able to afford some of the best equipment in the nation due to national funding and grants. So in lieu of California I moved north and ended up working in downtown Manchester. An application filed a while back with my current fire department totally forgotten by me but not by those who matter.
I've had a lot of false starts. I thought that things in the little town next to Manchester would take off and I could work as a firefighter/paramedic there. Though they did meet with me once or twice for training, it was impossible to make things happen there. I"ve been up and down the east coast, applied to various California fire services and hadn't gotten anywhere. And then I got a call asking me to come in for an interview.
Then things seemed to fall into place.
As soon as my inhouse training is done, familarization with department equipment and procedures, the layout of the town and those I work with have seen me perform as a firemedic, they will sign me off and I will be one of two people covering the town for 24 hours at a time. The department relies heavily on part time and call members to provide coverage, should the duty crew be away on a call.
While its a dramatic change of pace from the overdoses and busy shifts of Manchester I think that my new job will be a perfect fit in my life, allowing me to fully utilize all of my fire rescue and medical training.

Circus

"Think its a pit bull bite?" Rich asks as we blare the horn at a slow moving Cadilac.
"Its not always pit bulls, I've met some wicked nice pit bulls. I love pit bulls." A really thug looking guy in Manchester actually breeds them and they are the nicest dogs I've ever met. He lives in the projects but he doesn't fight the dogs and he has AKC registry rights.
We weren't dispatched with an engine so it can't be that bad. We ask the student in the back what his first priority will be once we get on scene.
"I'd wanna stop any bleeding, get a set of vitals, dress the wound and get a good history."
"Wrong" Rich makes a buzzer noise and the kid looks perplexed.
"Make sure the dog isn't there." Animal lover or not I don't want to get bit while I'm working....or ever for that mater.
When we get there I don't see any police cars, in fact I don't see anything. We stay in the truck for a minute or so taking it in and looking for anything that might be a problem. Calls in the projects are difficult because the denizens of this area look at anyone in a badge as a representation of evil.
Rich sees movement from the backyard as a girl of about fifteen or sixteen in a tube top comes running out. "He's in the back, come on!" She's pissed that we are just sitting there.
"Wheres the dog?" I ask through the open window.
"The backyard."
"Well make him go away." I tell her and roll the window back up.
Rich laughes and just goes "Poof!"
When we finally get in the back yard, there is litterally a sea of little black children ranging in age from 3 to 18. All of them are yelling at us to help a little boy sitting in a chair. I crouch down and ask him whats wrong and he points to a scar on his leg.
In broken English a matronly woman who refuses to introduce herself tells me that he says he was bit by a dog. Theres no blood and the kid doesn't seem to be in any pain. The mark on his leg looks like a scar from way before this.
I have him walk around as the kids continue to yell at us. He walks with no limp. Some of the elder kids start getting in our faces and yelling obsenities about how we took forever to get here and now we're making the kid walk around.
A particularly bold youth gets in my face and says "You a cop?"
"I'm a medic."
"Shit, you got a badge like a cop....must be a cop."
I roll my eyes and say "You a sailor?"
"Fuck nigga, I ain't no sailor."
"Got a mouth like one, you belong here or you just making my life that much more fun."
"I live around the block."
I nod, "Maybe thats where you should be then." I turn my attention to the oldest woman and ask "We taking him to the hospital? He's not hurt." The crowd starts to yell that he is and that we don't want to treat him because he's black.
Rich is just ignoring them but I turn and motion for everyone to quiet down as the cops are pulling up. Then I just cross my arms and smile as the "popo" walk up. The old woman's English is about as good as my Swahilli and she calls the kid's mother on the phone. They click and whistle at each other for five minutes and she says to me.
"He go to hospital."
"Gimme the phone." I take the phone and say "This is Nick from Manchester ALS, I'm with your son. He's fine, he's not hurt and the trip to the hospital really isn't necessary."
"But he needs to go by ambulance or we can't sue....."
In the end the kid walks to the ambulance and the older woman rides in the front. We leave them in Triage for the nurses to figgure it out.