Drama Queen
"Shes a drama queen." The mother warns me as we approach her screaming nine year old daughter.
"Well what happened?" I ask. The girl is laying under the monkey bars with a sweater rolled up under her head, covered in a blanket litterally screaming her head off.
The mother hikes her baby up on her hip and says "She fell off the monkey bars and she could have hurt herself but shes such a drama queen I can't tell." Five minutes earlier a woman in an orange shirt had come running into the fire station to tell us that we needed to go for a "child down" up at the school.
I finally get over to the girl and her screaming doesn't stop. I try to ask her what happened and she yelps "Will I be able to go to school, what if I broke my arm?"
I try, unsucessfully, to get a meaningful history out of her before simply deciding to put her on a backboard. BT grabs a spine board kit and we get her immobilized as the deputy chief pulls up and I learn the girl's right arm hurts. When I cut her sweatshirt I see no swelling or deformity but I slide a pillow and a rolled towel under it for comfor.
The screaming continues nonstop along with questions about whether or not she will be able to go to school and "Ohmygodwhatifitsbroken!!!!!" repeated at near ear splitting decibels.
The woman in the orange shirt shows up and yells "You shouldn't move her, what if she hurt her neck."
I just turn to look at her, at a loss for words before finding a response. The chief chimes in "Well we can't do X Rays here."
At the mention of X Rays the girl starts screaming about radiation poisioning and I wonder briefly what kind of childhood she has.
She and her family are from about an hour north of my town so we have to transport to the hospital they prefer which is way out on 126, Huggins Hospital. On the ride in she screams and yells about every bump but often gets mad enough to forget the pain in her arm because of the velcro on her forehead due to the backboard straps.
I just calmly talk to her and try to soothe her by making my voice the audible imbodiement of a Hindu cow. It doesnt work.
When we finally get her to the hospital and turn her over to the staff I get the "Oh, gee thanks so much"-- look from the receiving RN. The girl complains that the light in the room is too bright and she wants to be off the board. Again she asks if she can still go to school because she has important projects to do.
I refrain the urge to tell her she is nine years old, nothing is important. Instead I leave to do my paperwork.
Not even to the door, an SUV pulls into the ambulance bay. Out pops a guy in a suit covered in blood and his wife. They wrestle open the backdoor and pull out a frail old woman wearing no pants with blood pouring out of her rectum.
Instantly the man's wife is in my face. "She's lost about two pints of blood and I think she's arresting." The old woman is calm, smiling even, as her son carries her in and plops her into a wheelchair. BT and I help get her into Huggins' trauma room and then finally find our way out of there.
On the way back we watch the sky darken and rain begin to pelt the windshield of the ambulance.
"Well what happened?" I ask. The girl is laying under the monkey bars with a sweater rolled up under her head, covered in a blanket litterally screaming her head off.
The mother hikes her baby up on her hip and says "She fell off the monkey bars and she could have hurt herself but shes such a drama queen I can't tell." Five minutes earlier a woman in an orange shirt had come running into the fire station to tell us that we needed to go for a "child down" up at the school.
I finally get over to the girl and her screaming doesn't stop. I try to ask her what happened and she yelps "Will I be able to go to school, what if I broke my arm?"
I try, unsucessfully, to get a meaningful history out of her before simply deciding to put her on a backboard. BT grabs a spine board kit and we get her immobilized as the deputy chief pulls up and I learn the girl's right arm hurts. When I cut her sweatshirt I see no swelling or deformity but I slide a pillow and a rolled towel under it for comfor.
The screaming continues nonstop along with questions about whether or not she will be able to go to school and "Ohmygodwhatifitsbroken!!!!!" repeated at near ear splitting decibels.
The woman in the orange shirt shows up and yells "You shouldn't move her, what if she hurt her neck."
I just turn to look at her, at a loss for words before finding a response. The chief chimes in "Well we can't do X Rays here."
At the mention of X Rays the girl starts screaming about radiation poisioning and I wonder briefly what kind of childhood she has.
She and her family are from about an hour north of my town so we have to transport to the hospital they prefer which is way out on 126, Huggins Hospital. On the ride in she screams and yells about every bump but often gets mad enough to forget the pain in her arm because of the velcro on her forehead due to the backboard straps.
I just calmly talk to her and try to soothe her by making my voice the audible imbodiement of a Hindu cow. It doesnt work.
When we finally get her to the hospital and turn her over to the staff I get the "Oh, gee thanks so much"-- look from the receiving RN. The girl complains that the light in the room is too bright and she wants to be off the board. Again she asks if she can still go to school because she has important projects to do.
I refrain the urge to tell her she is nine years old, nothing is important. Instead I leave to do my paperwork.
Not even to the door, an SUV pulls into the ambulance bay. Out pops a guy in a suit covered in blood and his wife. They wrestle open the backdoor and pull out a frail old woman wearing no pants with blood pouring out of her rectum.
Instantly the man's wife is in my face. "She's lost about two pints of blood and I think she's arresting." The old woman is calm, smiling even, as her son carries her in and plops her into a wheelchair. BT and I help get her into Huggins' trauma room and then finally find our way out of there.
On the way back we watch the sky darken and rain begin to pelt the windshield of the ambulance.
posted by Nick Stabile at 11:22 AM
3 Comments:
Maybe the old lady will teach the kid a thing or two.
Hope your brother is safe.
Throw her some morphine, that'll settle her right down.
You were right to board her though- talk about a distracting injury! LOL
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