Helping Someone
The first med call I ran at Northern was a 56 year old man who had been arguing with his wife about buying paper towels. He started to feel light headed and dizzy, he broke out in a cold sweat and felt like his heart was pounding out of his chest. We ended up taking him into Concord Hospital with nitro, morphine, two large bore IVs and several 12 leads along the way.
Last night as I was cleaning up after dinner, with a movie playing on the TV, I was pretty much convinced that this shift would go the way of the rest with another 24 hours devoid of calls. I should add that because of my previous shift's lack of calls I was able to find a great recipe for shrimp scampi that was a fairly big hit.
When the tones came through it was just starting to snow fliggy out, nothing really earth shattering but just enough to let us know that the storm was in fact coming. The ride in the ambulance was totally different in the dark. I knew the address sounded familar but I wasn't sure why. Out front one of the vollies had parked his F350 with his red light bar going, as good a roadsign as any.
The patient was inside sitting on the couch, feet up on the coffee table with a strained look on his face. My Captain, MR, was working with me out of station 2 just as she was on my first shift. I start looking around and admiring the very nice wood stove they have blasting heat into their nice little home.
"What's up, bud? I'm Nick."
"I know, we met back in August. You missed an IV in my hand." He smiles good naturedly and explains that his heart is bothering him again though not as bad as before. Sure enough the monitor shows a sinus rthym with complex dropping here and there and a few PVCs. Denying pain he tells us his chest feels tight and that he doesn't know if he should go to the hospital. His skin seems a bit pale but the only light in the room is from the stove so I don't really let it set off any bells.
The vollies end up bringing him out to the truck while I spike a bag and get my drug box ready. A quick 12 lead shows nothing scary and he states that he feels a lot better. My only real concern is that the guy was an Air Force drill instructor for 25 years who still runs and swims religously, and his blood pressure is 190s over 100s. The first IV poke into his left AC drops him down to a more resonable 150 over 90, still not great but I really don't want to give nitro to someone denying any cardiac symptoms.
We transport him to Concord again, his blood pressure going down to 130s over 80s. Another line goes in his right AC just to be safe and I do another 12 lead, again finding nothing. His anxiety seems to have abated and he asks me how I like working in town. I tell him I'm very happy because its a nice town with nice people who, for the most part, behave themselves. I bust his chops a bit by saying "Except this one AirForce guy with a heart problem...he's a real asshole." He laughes and punches me playfully in the leg and tells me he feels silly going into the hospital for what he thinks of as being tired.
"My mom had a couple of heart attacks a year or two ago," I tell him. "Once in a while she gets a chest cold or something and she gets nervous and does the same thing. I'd rather come and pick you up for a cold then have you wait too long and have to do some real work on you."
We drive through the night with him telling me that he and his wife have since split up, they're still close but "It just didn't work. You know, no hard feelings or nothing. She's living here at my house until the spring. Then we'll sell it and go our seperate ways." She's sitting up front telling the same story to my captain.
I tell Concord Hospital what I'm coming in with and they give us a room. When we drop him off, I give my report and tell him "Look, no offense but I really don't ever want to see you again." He laughes and says its a mutual thing.
Most of the time, my career has brought me into contact with frequent flyers-- people who use the ambulance enough that you get to know who they are, they're families and they're problems-- and most of the time those frequent flyers are drunks and system abusers. Every now and again its nice to get a frequent flyer who is amicable and doesn't smell of urine and booze. My guy last night is a nice guy and the drunks and druggies I've taken might be the nicest people in the world but I never see it. Last night I saw a geuniely nice guy who needed some help and because of all the different stuff I've forced myself to go through, I was able to give him that help.
It wasn't a really dramatic or even overly interesting call but it was nice to know that I was helping someone.
Last night as I was cleaning up after dinner, with a movie playing on the TV, I was pretty much convinced that this shift would go the way of the rest with another 24 hours devoid of calls. I should add that because of my previous shift's lack of calls I was able to find a great recipe for shrimp scampi that was a fairly big hit.
When the tones came through it was just starting to snow fliggy out, nothing really earth shattering but just enough to let us know that the storm was in fact coming. The ride in the ambulance was totally different in the dark. I knew the address sounded familar but I wasn't sure why. Out front one of the vollies had parked his F350 with his red light bar going, as good a roadsign as any.
The patient was inside sitting on the couch, feet up on the coffee table with a strained look on his face. My Captain, MR, was working with me out of station 2 just as she was on my first shift. I start looking around and admiring the very nice wood stove they have blasting heat into their nice little home.
"What's up, bud? I'm Nick."
"I know, we met back in August. You missed an IV in my hand." He smiles good naturedly and explains that his heart is bothering him again though not as bad as before. Sure enough the monitor shows a sinus rthym with complex dropping here and there and a few PVCs. Denying pain he tells us his chest feels tight and that he doesn't know if he should go to the hospital. His skin seems a bit pale but the only light in the room is from the stove so I don't really let it set off any bells.
The vollies end up bringing him out to the truck while I spike a bag and get my drug box ready. A quick 12 lead shows nothing scary and he states that he feels a lot better. My only real concern is that the guy was an Air Force drill instructor for 25 years who still runs and swims religously, and his blood pressure is 190s over 100s. The first IV poke into his left AC drops him down to a more resonable 150 over 90, still not great but I really don't want to give nitro to someone denying any cardiac symptoms.
We transport him to Concord again, his blood pressure going down to 130s over 80s. Another line goes in his right AC just to be safe and I do another 12 lead, again finding nothing. His anxiety seems to have abated and he asks me how I like working in town. I tell him I'm very happy because its a nice town with nice people who, for the most part, behave themselves. I bust his chops a bit by saying "Except this one AirForce guy with a heart problem...he's a real asshole." He laughes and punches me playfully in the leg and tells me he feels silly going into the hospital for what he thinks of as being tired.
"My mom had a couple of heart attacks a year or two ago," I tell him. "Once in a while she gets a chest cold or something and she gets nervous and does the same thing. I'd rather come and pick you up for a cold then have you wait too long and have to do some real work on you."
We drive through the night with him telling me that he and his wife have since split up, they're still close but "It just didn't work. You know, no hard feelings or nothing. She's living here at my house until the spring. Then we'll sell it and go our seperate ways." She's sitting up front telling the same story to my captain.
I tell Concord Hospital what I'm coming in with and they give us a room. When we drop him off, I give my report and tell him "Look, no offense but I really don't ever want to see you again." He laughes and says its a mutual thing.
Most of the time, my career has brought me into contact with frequent flyers-- people who use the ambulance enough that you get to know who they are, they're families and they're problems-- and most of the time those frequent flyers are drunks and system abusers. Every now and again its nice to get a frequent flyer who is amicable and doesn't smell of urine and booze. My guy last night is a nice guy and the drunks and druggies I've taken might be the nicest people in the world but I never see it. Last night I saw a geuniely nice guy who needed some help and because of all the different stuff I've forced myself to go through, I was able to give him that help.
It wasn't a really dramatic or even overly interesting call but it was nice to know that I was helping someone.
posted by Nick Stabile at 4:04 PM
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