Tuesday, December 21, 2010

I've Come to Jesus...I've Been Wrong All Along...

Some of you knew this was coming...a public apology...and my farewell post...

I really had a re-awakening experience, and I've realized that I've been wrong all along. I don't know what I've been thinking...being mad at people for wanting & liberally using a socialized 911 ambulance services.  Even more deplorably, I've been encouraging people to crave freedom and despise the idea of tyrannically robbing other people of their freedoms.

I've found Jesus, and I've realized that Jesus would want me to use a gun to take money from other people, and then, piss that money away by giving it to people who have no interest in their own self-improvement. I've been a hater, and I really want to apologize to all of you readers for attempting to influence you to become a hater like I am.

I've realized that people are too dumb to make decisions for themselves. At one point, I chastised the general public for calling 911 and requesting an ambulance when they weren't absolutely positive somebody wanted to go to the hospital, and that person absolutely NEEDED an ambulance to get to the hospital. That was a mistake.

The last thing any of us wants is for government services to dwindle in size & scope, due to citizens becoming more self-reliant and personally responsible. For that reason, I encourage everyone to call 911, and call often. If you can, call right now, just to have the ambulance come by and "check you out"...they'll let you know if you have a problem or not. You never know if you're dying, and you can never be too careful.

For my part, I will hereby cease to be a Crusty Ambulance Driver. I will be extra courteous to everyone who calls 911. I want people to be so pleased with my socialist services that they can't imagine not calling 911 when they think they might have any sort of problem. I want them to think, "why would I want to go to the doctor in my own car, or call a friend to take me to the doctor, when I can call those nice, good-looking gentlemen on the ambulance to come to my house, pick me up from my living room, in my slippers & night gown, and drive me to the hospital in their super-sanitized, luxurious, 911 limousine?" I want people to be so pleased with our service that they tell all their friends about it and encourage them to also call 911 whenever possible.

I've turned over a new leaf...I'm serious about God is my witness, I will hereby do my part to expand government services and rob citizens of their freedom & personal responsibility.

All I can say is, I'm sorry. I hope none of you have been led astray by my misdirected, ill-conceived, ignorant complaints about 911 abusers, the 911 system, and in general, government intrusion on freedom. Freedom is of the Devil. It sounds like most of you resolutely held your ground, and you were not swayed by my delusional attempts to persuade you to be free-thinking lovers of liberty...for which I am glad. Carry on, fellow Socialists, and God speed.

What I'm trying to say is, "I'm on a PUMPER! I'm on a PUMPER, MF'ers! Take a good, hard look at my MF'ing pumper."

Saturday, January 30, 2010

I Wasn't Born a Crusty Ambulance Driver...My First Run...

I wasn't born a Crusty Ambulance Driver. At one time I was a sympathetic trainee, in the back of the box. I was scared, conscientious, enthusiastic, and compassionate. I even remember getting pysching myself up, thinking, 'I'm going to learn my job so well that nobody will ever die in my care.' I thought I would be a life-saving, EMT superhero. This was long before the box beat my ass, over and over again, and transformed me into the ugly, cantankerous, crusty, shell of an EMT I am today. I look in the mirror today, and I hardly recognize the mean old bastard I've become.

I don't know if it was my first day or first run, but this is the first day I remember being on the box...

I was in EMT school, doing my ambulance rotations. I remember actually being excited for my first several runs. Back then, I even got butterflies in my stomach when a run came in. I carried my EMT textbook with me so I could look up things I didn't remember, in order to more thoroughly care for my patients.

Who knows what this particular call was dispatched as...probably an "intoxicsted person." Back then, I was naive enough to think every call was an extremely life-threatening emergency...every call was a "cardiac arrest" to me. When we arrived at the location, which was an old, do-it-yourself carwash, we found a man lying in the prone position, on the ground, and he was surrounded by a bunch of hobos, who were apparently his "roommates." The temperature was very cold; it must have been 30-something degrees.

My trainer walked up to the patient, walked a half-circle around his head, and within 5 seconds, callously declared, "yep, he's dead."  I thought to myself, 'What?!!! How do you know he's dead?!!...You didn't even check for a pulse, and we learned in EMT school that a person's not dead until he's WARM and dead.'

Trying to suppress my surprise & disgust, and trying not reveal that I doubted him, I humbly asked my preceptor, "Not that I doubt you...I'm just trying to learn...but, how can you tell he's dead?"  My trainer curtly responded, "Just look at him!"

I looked at him and saw that his face was purple, but I figured it was just because he was cold.  I asked, "Should someone check his pulse?"  He flippantly said, "Go ahead, but he's dead."

Finally becoming frustrated, my trainer grabbed the hobo's shoulder and rolled him over.  Pointing to his face, he asked, "See the lividity?" The hobo's face was flattened by the ground, and it didn't bounce back when he was rolled over (I had never dreamed of seeing something like that!). The front of his face was purple, and there was a clear line where the purple ended and white skin began. However, not really knowing what lividity looked like back then, I lied and responded, "Oh yeah, I see the lividity."

I was slightly intrigued and simultaneously horrified to see his face. Up to that point, I don't think I had really seen a dead guy in person, and it seemed weird to be looking at a real dead guy. I pretended like it didn't affect me. I also felt a little weird about saying he was "dead," right in front of the dead guy. I thought it might make him feel bad or something (...make him feel self-conscious about his dead-ness).

My trainer further pointed out the rigormortis, and then he guided me through checking for a carotid pulse, which he did not have. Even though I had already been pretending to realize that he was dead for a long time, at that moment, I finally realized, for myself, that he was probably dead.

We interviewed his friends and asked about his medical conditions. One of the hobo's friends explained that he had breathing problems, and he used an inhaler. My trainer asked if he knew where the inhaler was. The dead hobo's friend said, "Yeah, I actually have it," and then he explained that the dead hobo kindly loaned him the inhaler the night before, because the dead hobo's friend was feeling like he was starting to have breathing problems of his own.

My trainer then told the dead hobo's friend that the dead hobo probably had an asthma attack during the night, and since he didn't have his inhaler, he passed out, and then died from the cold.

The dead hobo's friend immediately started crying while looking at the inhaler in his hand, as if it was a gun that he had just used to murder his best friend. Tearfully, the dead hobo's friend explained what a great hobo his dead friend was and how much he will be missed by the rest of his hobo-tourage.

I got a big lump in my throat, my eyes got glassy, and I had to fight to hold back the tears (I couldn't let my trainer know I was getting all emotional over a hobo). I wanted to give the filthy friend of the dead hobo a big hug and bring him home with me. I remember wondering how I could personally help this hobo so that HE didn't end up freezing to death, face down in an old, do-it-yourself carwash. Of course I did nothing beyond thinking I should help him.

That may have been the first and last time I ever felt sympathy for a dead hobo and his surviving hobo friends.

Even though I believe I give an honest effort to do everything I can to help save ANY patient's life; I don't believe I'm capable of feeling the same compassion I felt for that hobo on that day. I don't know if it's a good thing or bad thing, but everyday I lose a little bit more of that compassion I was once capable of feeling.

This post was written for "The Handover, Blog Carnival."  This month's theme was, "The First Emergency."  All the submissions for this month's edition, from various bloggers, can be found at:

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

A Few Deaths, A Possible Hobo-MI, And a Bunch of B.S.

Only WE Are Capable of Professionally Asking, "Are you OK?"
8:10 We were called to a motor vehicle incident by a bystander. When we showed up, we asked if everyone was OK. The bystander said, "I think everyone is OK, but I wanted you guys to go check out that little boy over there...I don't think he has any injuries, but I just wanted you guys to check him out." I said, "Well, sir, I'll go over there and ask him if he's OK, then I'll ask his if he's OK, but that's all I can really do without an X-ray machine." It turns out, the boy said he did not have any injuries, and his mom said he was OK. ...I'm glad I could professionally do what no citizen is quite as capable as I am of doing...ask someone if they are injured and if they need an ambulance.

Imagine How Many Ambulances We Would Need If Everyone Called For Every Migraine Headache...
12:43 We were called to a 28 y/o HF complaining of migraine headaches. She was driving to go pick up her child from school, and when she arrived at the school, she couldn't take it anymore, and someone called 911 for her. She has an extensive history of migraine headaches, and her head was hurting since early that morning, with no change in pain. We drove her to the hospital where the doctors confirmed that did in fact have migraines, and she needs to take her medicine. If we transported every person that ever got a migraine headache, we would do nothing more than transport migraine headache victims.

Hobo With a Possible MI
14:40 We were called to the parking lot of a liquor store for a 62 y/o WM hobo, who was complaining of chest pain. We transported him to the hospital for a possible MI. We gave him aspirin and started an IV of Sodium Chloride. We pretty well saved his glorious life.

Do You REALLY Want Socialized Health Care for Everyone?
16:04 We were called to the home of a 35 y/o HF who was complaining of abdominal pain for the past 3 days. She went to the county hospital the day prior to calling us, but she left the socialized health care hospital after waiting for 8 hours with no help. She called us 15 1/2 hours after leaving the hospital, because she couldn't take the pain anymore. We gladly returned her to the socialized health care hospital, where they asked us to put her in the waiting room, along with the other 100+ people waiting for socialized health care.

Guy Does Nothing to Help Himself and Somehow Still Feels Sick
19:24 A 55 y/o HM called us because he was feeling kind of sick. He just left the hospital yesterday, where he was told that he has a pancreas infection, kidney failure, and he needs dialysis. He called us because, one day later, after doing nothing to fix his infection or need for dialysis. He said he still feels sick, so he needs to go back to the hospital.

Did Not Consult a Physician Before Running on a Treadmill
21:01 We were called to the apartment of a 24 y/o WF (she was actually kind of hot), who was complaining of breathing problems. She starting working out tonight, for the first time in a long time, and she couldn't catch her breath. When she couldn't catch her breath, she started to panic, and when she started to panic, she couldn't catch her breath even more. She was hyperventilating. After talking to her for a while, her breathing slowed down, she felt fine, and she decided she didn't need an ambulance. She obviously did not follow the instructions on the sticker on the side of the treadmill, which clearly stated, "Please consult a physician before running on this treadmill."

Just Another Car Accident...2 Dead, 1 Alive, 1 Unknown...
00:29 We were called to just another motor vehicle incident... ... ... ... Not. When we arrived, one guy had already been transported to the hospital with a severed spinal cord (later I heard that he didn't make it), and another dude was covered with a sheet, pronounced dead on the scene. Both dudes were thrown from their Cadillac when it started rolling, when they didn't make a corner at 100+ MPH on a 3-lane street. Our patient was a 21 y/o HF, who was still trapped in the mangled Cadillac. She was not wearing her seatbelt, but somehow she stayed inside the car. The rescue crew spent about 30 minutes to tear apart the car in order to get her out. Surprisingly, she appeared to have very minor injuries, she was conscious but intoxicated, and it looks like she was going to make it. The scary part of this whole incident was when we found an empty car seat in the back seat of the Cadillac. We asked the girl if she has a baby; she said yes. We asked her if the baby was in the car with her, and she said yes. We looked everywhere for a baby, but we didn't find anything. We tried our best to find out, but we still have no idea if there was a baby in the car. We're hoping that the girl was intoxicated, and she was confused about the baby being in the car.

Breathing Problem, 4 Blocks From the Hospital
3:56 We were called to a (closed) convenience store for a 52 y/o WM hobo, who calls us extremely often from this same's the closest pay phone to his homeless hideout. This pay phone is precisely 4 blocks from the nearest hospital. If he would have started walking to the hospital right when he called us, he would have arrived at the hospital before we could have arrived at the convenience store. He complained of having breathing problems. He had just left the hospital a few hours prior for the same problem. He was not wheezing, and he had 100% oxygen saturation. I'm assuming he called us because it was very cold out. We took him to the hospital, just like we always do.

Very Successful Suicide Attempt...With the Help of an Online Tutorial
5:59 This call came in as a "Shooting...Bystander CPR in Progress." We arrived to find a 28 y/o WM laying in his bed, covered in blood and brains, and his mother was giving him chest compressions. She was also covered in blood & brains. The chest compressions had no chance of helping him, because he had done a REALLY good job of shooting himself in the head. She was really just pumping the blood & brains out of the hole in his head with every compression.

The mother said she heard two simultaneous shots while she was sleeping, and she ran to his room and found him dead (yes, two shots...I don't know how, but there were two shells on the floor....I'm guessing the second shot was due to a finger-reflex, as he was dying).

One of the most interesting aspects of this suicide was that the guy shot himself while following internet instructions on how to shoot yourself in the head. His laptop was in his bed, opened to the internet site. Apparently he was following the internet instructions like someone would follow internet instruction on 'how to fix your dishwasher.' The internet website is, in case you sick freaks want to take a look. Below, I've posted some of the pictures from the website, but the website also has a bunch of other pictures of people who were unsuccessful at shooting themselves, in addition to some instructional text. It's worth taking a look, especially if you're looking for an instructional tutorial.

The guy's mother asked a firefighter to assist her in calling some friends and family. One of those people was the guy's fiancee, who was at the guy's house the night before, playing Scrabble (I forgot to ask who won...I'm guessing the suicidal guy didn't win). The firefighter called the fiancee and told her that something was wrong, and that she needed to come over to the house. She said she would be there in 5 minutes.

My partner and I had put away some equipment and finish writing our report, so we went out to the ambulance. We were both sitting in the front seat, talking about what we just saw, and I mentioned that I wanted to go back in the house when the girlfriend arrived. Surprisingly, he said that he also wanted to be there when she arrived. I asked him why HE wanted to be there when the fiancee arrived, and he said it was because he wanted to see if she was good-looking, since she was now a single female. I laughed, and then I revealed that I wanted to be there when she arrived because I wanted to see how she would react. He was appauled by my reason and called me a "sick, morbid bastard." I found that amusing, considering his reasons.

The end result was that, while we were discussing our equally sick reasons for wanting to see the fiancee arrive at the house, the fiancee snuck by us, and we missed her. Later we found out that she started crying hysterically, and she wanted to see the body, but the police wouldn't let her.

Here are the instructional pictures from the website...

Monday, December 22, 2008

Damn Those Freeloading Illegal Aliens Calling 911...And All Freeloaders, For That Matter

Being the holiday season, I want to discuss Freeloading Illegal Aliens...

The most frustrating part of my job is not necessarily that I missed the end of "My Name Is Earl," because I had to respond to a B.S. call, by a drive-by, cell-phone-hero; nor is it that I had to get out of bed at 4:30 AM to drive a 70 y/o WF, from an assisted-living home, to the hospital for the Flu, because she didn't want to bother her son (which happened last night). I'm not frustrated because I have to work a little while I'm at work.

The most frustrating part of my job is having to facilitate the blatant abuse of the gubment-funded 911 emergency services, and seeing, on a run by run basis, what a complete waste of (involuntarily paid) taxpayer money the ambulance is.

Ambulance abusing freeloaders come in all shapes and sizes, but a universally-despised, favorite flavor of ambulance abuser is the illegal alien.

It's very common to hear other EMS workers, hospital staff, firefighters, police officers, and bystanders say things like, "Damn illegal aliens...They shouldn't even be here," or "Why should we help them...they don't have insurance...they're not even citizens," or "Why should the rest of us have to pay for these damn illegal aliens?"

For example...

We got a call at around 10 PM to a nearby hospital for an ObGyn problem (I can't describe how much I love malfunctioning vagina problems). Our computer specified the room of the hospital in which we could find our esteemed client. It was the Labor and Delivery department! We wondered, 'what are a couple of ill-equipped, under-trained, ignorant EMT's going to do for a malfunctioning vagina, that an L&D department can't do?' I mean, whenever we encounter a malfunctioning vagina, that's where we take the L&D department of a hospital!

We arrived to find a 22 y/o hispanic female, laying on a bed, in the L&D department, wearing a hospital gown, and fully adorned in electronic medical monitoring equipment. She was 9 months pregnant, and she was well into labor. Her husband told us he wanted us to take her to a different hospital. They were unhappy with the free hospital care they were receiving at this hospital.

The patient had a C-section for her first child, and the hospital wanted to do a C-section again (it's the hospital's policy). The woman did not want another C-section, but the woman didn't bother researching the hospital's policy before they showed up at the hospital to receive their free medical care.

One of the nurses pulled me aside and explained the situation to me. She said, "These people are a pain in my ass. They want to have a vaginal birth, but she's had a C-section before, so we have to do a C-section for this birth." (here comes the most interesting part of what the nurse told me) "The thing is...these people don't even have any insurance, and they're not even U.S. citizens! They're illegal aliens, and they shouldn't even be here in the U.S.! Just please, get them out of here and take them to the free county hospital or something!"
As it turns out, we did not take her to a different hospital. Our policy states that we can't remove patients from a facility, which is capable of handling their emergency. She was already in a facility which was capable of handling her emergency.

But, my point is...(and this is going to surprise some of you Socialists)...

What does citizenship status have to do with freeloading...who cares if a person is an illegal alien? How is one freeloader any better than another freeloader? Why is the general public willing to pay for non-taxpaying freeloaders born here in the United States, but somehow they have a problem with non-taxpaying freeloaders born in other countries? Why isn't the general public equally resistant to pay for ALL freeloaders? What the hell is the difference? Why does the general public seem to have bleeding-heart compassion for LEGAL losers in need of assistance, but somehow they have no compassion for ILLEGAL losers who need help? People are people, aren't they? If you think we should be pay for freeloading losers, then you should want to pay for ALL of them; and conversely, if you think we shouldn't be forced to pay for ILLEGAL freeloading losers, then you should not want to force people to pay for ANY freeloading loser.

It's not like there's an American flag, beating with patriotism, deep within my heart, every time I am privileged enough to pick up a pregnant 18 y/o, G-6, P-4, A-1, black female from the projects, because she's an AMERICAN CITIZEN; while I'm indignant about picking up her illegal hispanic equivalent. I'm just as irritated about facilitating the abuse of gubment services by LEGAL freeloaders as I am with ILLEGAL freeloaders. I don't want to force people to pay for either freeloading loser!

I have trouble understanding the argument, "we need to run these damn illegals out of our country, cause I don't want to have to pay for their school and medical care." you think I want to pay for the school and medical care of YOUR 12-15 toothless, white-trash, LEGAL children? Why don't we deport YOUR freeloading white kids along with all the freeloading hispanic kids that YOU want to deport?

Or...why not, instead of being upset at illegal aliens and wanting to deport them...why don't we just stop forcing taxpayers to pay for them? Would anyone even HAVE a problem with illegal aliens if they didn't have to fund their freeloading escapades? While we're at it, let's stop forcing people to pay for LEGAL freeloaders as well.

Would we consider ANY freeloader to be a problem, regardless of citizenship status, if we weren't forced to fund and facilitate freeloaders' addiction to gubment assistance? That's the most frustrating part of my job...facilitating freeloaders' addiction to gubment services, and witnessing it get worse and worse.

Merry Christmas!

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Why EMT's Treat People Like Brain-damaged Three-year-olds...

Here's an e-mail I recently received from a blog reader...

"I've read through your blog and enjoy it. Unfortunately I can't even laugh anymore at the stupidity of most people, I just shake my head and weep for humanity. Is it just my imagination, or is it whenever paramedics respond to a nonobvious broken bone (i.e a vertebra) they treat the pt like a brain-damaged three-year-old? Just would like your insight into this behaviour, as I've come across it before and never understood it."

A few days ago, we were called to a 2-car MVA by a (brain damaged) police officer, who wanted us to come and "check a patient out." We arrived on scene approximately 30-40 minutes after the accident had occurred, and everyone was out of their cars, walking around. The alleged patient was a 25 HF, who was the restrained driver of a moderately damaged 4-Runner, which T-boned a sedan. Our patient was not at fault in the accident, according to witnesses, so the other guy's insurance had to pay for medical expenses.

The patient complained that she had pain and tingling on the left side of her face from hitting her face on the side window (of the door). The patient told us she didn't want to go to the hospital, and she didn't even know why we were there; she said she didn't request us. We asked her if we could take her vitals, and while we took her vitals, which were normal, we offered to transport her to the hospital by ambulance. She refused transport and signed a refusal statement.

We stayed on scene for a while, because we were teaching a rookie how to call a supervisor for a refusal. Approximately 20-30 minutes later (now 1 hour after the accident occurred), after the patient talked to her ignorant friend (who had a working car, on scene), the patient came up to us and asked if it was too late to go with us to the hospital. Apparently her friend told her the other guy had to pay for the ambulance, she would be more likely to GET PAID if she went by ambulance, and she would get seen more quickly by the hospital if she went by ambulance (I actually overheard some of the conversation). So I said nothing but "sure," while giving her and her friend a look like they were both brain-damaged 3-year-olds. We took her to the hospital, and the boyfriend followed us in his car. When we got to the hospital, she actually asked, "when can I take this thing off?" ...referring to the C-collar.

So, why do EMT's treat people with non-obvious broken bones like they are brain-damaged 3-year-olds? Because they act like brain-damaged 3-year-olds.

What's an ambulance going to do for a patient who's already been walking around an accident scene (in this case, she was walking around for about an hour)? At that point, what's the difference between going to hospital in the ambulance and going by private vehicle? The only thing we CAN do is immobilize the patient's spine. Immobilizing the spine doesn't do a whole lot of good when the patient is already walking around, or when a patient wants to remove the C-collar. Sometimes people even call us three days after an accident (which happens often).

It's fairly common for patients to complain about the backboard and C-collar or refuse the backboard and/or C-collar, like brain-damaged 3-year-olds, but they still want to go to the hospital by ambulance. What's people's infatuation with the damn ambulance? What do they think it's going to do for them?

Sometimes, after a car accident, people say they feel OK, but then they later decide they want to go by ambulance when they feel like their muscles are starting to stiffen up a little bit. What's an ambulance going to do for stiff muscles?

Most of the time, people just want to go by ambulance because they figure they'll have a better lawsuit if they go by ambulance, or they figure they're not paying for it, so why not? People who are not at-fault in an accident go to the hospital far more often than people who cause accidents. I wonder why.

When I, and most other EMT's, suspect a patient truly does have a broken vertebrae, we take it very seriously, and we do whatever we can to make sure the person doesn't end up paralyzed. Usually, when a person is still sitting in the car, or laying outside of the car, making some attempt to remain immobile, we are far more likely to NOT treat that person like a brain-damaged 3-year-old.

Know-it-all EMT's, spare all of us your stupid stories about, 'one time...this dude was walking around the scene of a minor accident, and I heroically talked him into going by ambulance, and..., and..., I saved his life, caused he had a C3 fracture, which goes to show,...' It goes to show you're a self-promoting blow-hard. Yeah...I get that it happens sometimes...and I get that adrenaline masks pain sometimes, which is not very likely. We just treat people like brain-damaged 3-year-olds when they act like brain-damaged 3-year-olds.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

When Do YOU Call 911 For Someone For an Ambulance?

The other day, somebody called 911 for a person who was apparently sleeping near the side of the road. When we got there, we found nothing.
We called the guy back on his cell phone (the caller's phone number comes up on our computer), and we asked him where the person was and how the caller knew that the person needed an ambulance. The caller said he didn't know if the person needed help, he just thought that maybe he did. We asked him if he knew if it was even a person, and he said he didn't know. We asked him why he didn't stop and find out, and he said it was because he was in a car and there was a lot of traffic. The caller was not willing to come back to the location to show us where he thought he saw a person.

It gets worse...

20 minutes later, we got called to the same exact location, for the same exact thing, but it was from a different caller, who was also driving by at 50 MPH, and also didn't bother stopping to check to see if it was actually a person. We looked around and eventually we found was a pile of clothing, which was stacked on top of a bucket, and possibly, maybe appeared to be a person sleeping, from the perspective of somebody driving by at 50 MPH.

We called this second caller back also. He didn't answer, so we left a message, politely asking him to return to the location, and show us where the person is that needed our help. We told him we found a pile of clothes that might look like a person (to an imbecile), but we didn't find a person. He never responded. In case anyone wants to call the guy and ask him what the hell he was thinking that night, his phone number is 512-431-2164, and his name is Chris Simonson.

I dismantled the pile of clothing, and amazingly, we did not get called back to that location again. We should make a law, declaring that hobos hereby may not pile clothing in such a manner to resemble a sleeping person, punishable by banishment to Uruguay, along with the imbecile that called 911 for the pile of clothing.

In our little socialist society, the ratio of basic ambulances to people is about 30,000 to 1. So, when you call an ambulance for a B.S. reason, 29,999 people don't have access to the closest ambulance, if they need one.

So, At what point should YOU call 911 and ask for an emergency ambulance for someone?

1. If you think a person (verified that it is a human) might need a little help, but you're not willing to go find out if he needs some help, cause you're an inconsiderate dumbass, then don't call 911 for an ambulance.

2. If there's a better-than-average possibility a person might need some help, but you're not willing to find out for sure, cause you're an inconsiderate dumbass, then don't call 911 for an ambulance. For example, someone just crashed his car, but you have no idea if he's hurt and/or if he wants an ambulance.

3. If you know a person needs some help, but you also know he doesn't need an emergency 911 ambulance, but you're not willing to take him to the hospital, and you still want to feel like you're a good person, so you think you might just call a 911 ambulance for him, cause you're an inconsiderate dumbass, then don't call 911 for an ambulance.  For example, an acquaintance of yours is sick, he needs to go to the hospital, you know the only thing an ambulance can for him is give him a ride (just like you could), but you don't want to deal with it (due to blood, vomit, coughing, mucous, time, or because you'd have to help him get in the car), so you just call an ambulance, because you're a Christian, and Christians call 911 for people when they want to feel good about themselves.

4. If you know a person needs to see a doctor, you know that the person needs to be moved by a stretcher (because he's an invalid or has a chronic illness), but you also know he doesn't need an EMERGENCY 911 AMBULANCE (there is no life-threatening emergency condition, for which the ambulance has a remedy, and time is not a factor...e.g., he's had a bed sore for the past two weeks...or he has the flu), and you're not willing to go through the hassle of calling and waiting for a private ambulance, so you want to just take the easy way out and call an emergency 911 ambulance, cause you're an inconsiderate dumbass, then don't call 911 for an ambulance.

5. If you know a person is dead, and you know he's been dead longer than 15 minutes (so he can't be revived), but you don't know what else to do, or you don't want to wait around for the police, cause you're an inconsiderate dumbass, then don't call 911 for an ambulance.  If you didn't know before, I'm telling you now. If someone is obviously dead, when you call 911, specify that the person is dead, and tell them you only need the police, not the ambulance. 911 Operators are too dumb/cautious to make decisions for themselves; you need to tell them you don't need an ambulance. Now that you know, tell a friend (along with everything else you learn on this highly educational blog).
6. If you know for a fact a person needs an emergency 911 ambulance (because you've stopped your car and asked), due to uncontrollable blood loss, an uncontrollable airway, a heart attack, a severe breathing problem, a stroke, a need for heavy splinting or spinal immobilization, or any situation where, if the person did not go by emergency 911 ambulance, his condition would get a lot worse, or he would likely die, then you can call 911 for an ambulance.

Here's the key:

To know if someone needs an emergency 911 ambulances you need to ask a few questions...
1. Is it a human?
2. Does the human have a life-threatening condition for which he needs to see an ER doctor?
3. Does the human NEED a 911 emergency ambulance to get to the ER, because without it, his condition would get significantly worse?

Monday, November 24, 2008

Attempted to Commit Suicide...Practice Makes Perfect

We were called to the loft apartment of a 33 y/o BF for an attempted suicide. When we got the call, the notes on our computer said that she was shooting up the place with a shotgun, and she's about to shoot herself. It sounded like a TRUE emergency, so we only took a few more bites of our dinners, before we headed out.
They called the right ambulance driver, because if anyone can talk someone out of shooting themselves, I can. My technique...based on the theory that people usually only kill themselves when they are coming OUT of depression...I use my verbal skills to lull them deep enough back into depression that they no longer have the energy or will to kill themselves.
Her girlfriend (the apparent fem in the relationship) called us because she got scared when the patient fired the shotgun in the house and blew a hole in the ceiling. That would explain why she's the fem...only a fem would be scared of a little gun fire in the house. The patient was pretending like she was trying to shoot herself, and she missed.
When we got there, and after the police made sure the scene was safe for a couple of EMS pansies, the patient and her fem girlfriend were sitting in the kitchen arguing about 'you don't love me' and 'why did you call the cops?' The gun was on the bed in the bedroom, and there was, in fact, a big hole in the ceiling. The police took all of her guns away (perks of the job, I guess...we get free band-aids...they get guns), and forced her to go to the county mental health rehabilitation facility. She did not go easily. The police had to kick her ass a little. It turns out, the patient was a federal police officer, so she kind of knew how to resist arrest.
After about an hour of trying to talk her into going to the hospital, and finally forcing her, she was taken to the county mental health hospital by the police. You would think that would be the end of the story, right? I mean, you figure, if somebody is being rehabilitated by the county, they're going to emerge as a well-adjusted, mentally stable person, right? Plus that, the government took away all her would someone without guns hurt themselves or others, right?
Two weeks later, we got a call to the same apartment. This time the computer said that the patient was inside the apartment, she had a gun, and she was waiting for the police to break in so she could fire at them, and they would shoot her dead (police assisted suicide).
When we arrived, there was no shortage of police on hand. They love this stuff. I don't know if their motivation was more to save her from shooting herself or to be the one who got to shoot her. They were all dressed in their semi-SWAT gear. A couple of guys had shotguns and assault rifles.
They asked us to breach the door, and when we did, the door only opened about a foot, being stopped by someone standing behind the door. The cops started yelling, "she's behind the door...she's got a gun...put the gun down, mother fuck#r...come out, god damn#t, put the fucki#g gun down..."
They continued yelling at her for about 10 minutes. All the neighbors were poking their heads out of their down and quickly retreating. We, of course, were hiding out 10-15 feet down the hall, waiting for the gun fight start.
After about 10 minutes, one of the officers got really brave and looked in the crack in the door...then...Blam, blam...the officers brains were sprayed all over the wall, ceiling, and all the other officers...the other officers started firing, she started firing, and when the smoke cleared, 2 of the 12 officers were the only ones was a total bloodbath.
Just kidding, when the officer looked in the crack, he saw a rope and said, "she's got a rope!...why does she have a rope?" Then he got brave again, got closer, and looked again. When he looked in the crack, he saw her looking back at him through the crack. He jumped back, processed what he saw a little, and said, "I think she's hanging by the rope." They looked again and verified that she was in fact hanging by a rope behind the door. We all felt kind of sheepish for engaging in a SWAT standoff with a hanging chick.
We checked to make sure she was dead, which was apparent without even touching her, since her eyes were bug-eyed & all dried out, her face was white (she's a black girl), and there were hardened stalagtites of snot hanging from her nose and mouth. She also had rigormortis. She must have been dead for more than a couple of hours.
It was a tiny bit weird when I got up close and looked at her, in the eyes...allowing myself to wonder, just for a second, if somehow she can still see me looking at her through her dried-up eyes...and thinking it was kind of rude to be staring at someone like that. I also allowed myself to wonder, just for a second, if she could somehow hear the jokes we were telling each other about the situation and...well, about the girl hanging from a rope. (don't count on a bunch of cops and firemen to solemnly respect the dead when nobody else is around...there have been times when we've had to take a second to collect ourselves before walking out a door where the public could see us.)
I left the scene feeling disappointed and confused. I could hardly believe that the government intervention (taking away the guns AND forcing her to go to government mental health rehabilitation) failed to stop a person from hurting herself. I mean, if government can't keep me from hurting myself, who can? I suddenly feel so unsafe, insecure, and scared to be alone with myself. The world is a different place.

Friday, October 10, 2008

Let's Play, "Blood, Poop, or Vomit"!...The Ambulance Is a Filthy Place

If I haven't already made you think twice about ever calling an ambulance again, just based on the fact that ambulance drivers are sick, twisted, insensitive, CLOWNS; the information I'm about to reveal to you will really make you never want to call an ambulance again, unless it's a choice between 'call an ambulance' or die (which is the way it should be). Even then, you may just want to choose death.

As you might imagine, the ambulance sees a lot of blood, snot, vomit, poop, spit, sperm, urine, pus, amniotic fluid, after-birth, pre-birth, general non-birth related vaginal sludge, zit-juice, eye goop, ear grease, and any other body fluid you can imagine. Every surface of the ambulance has, at one time, been the depository for at least one, if not all, of these body fluids.

The problem is, most people figure the nice boys that work on the ambulance meticulously disinfect every square nanometer of the ambulance. Most people are delusional. You can count on the nice boys on the ambulance to create an 'appearance of cleanliness,' but don't expect them to actually clean anything. We'll clean up all the most visible chunks of blood & vomit, wipe down most of the visible surfaces, and try to make it smell good; but ambulances are far from being clean. Sure, we change the sheet, most of the time, but that's like trusting a single square of one-ply toilet paper to protect you from a toilet seat in a gas station in Tijuana (I've heard of EMT's trying to go the whole day without ever having to change the sheet, due to VISIBLE contamination). When you're in an ambulance, you are surrounded by biohazardous filth; it's attacking you from all sides.

You know how they say that when you have sex with someone, you are really having sex with everyone that person has ever had sex with? Well, when you ride an ambulance, you are essentially having sex with every hobo & loser that ambulance has ever transported.

Here are some examples of some of the human bio-filth you might find in a typical ambulance...

Backboards are the direct recipient of whatever is oozing out of our patients. We get them from the hospital, and we try to pick backboards that don't have any obvious signs of contamination, so we don't have to clean them. These backboards were on my ambulance, ready to be used, at the beginning of my shift. Are you ready to play, "Blood, Poop, or Vomit?"...

Blood, Poop, or Vomit??? This is the area where a patient would lay his head (above).

Blood, with a little fecal matter, is my guess. What's a little fecal matter between friends?

Tape residue collects some of the neatest little specimens.

Probably poop, blood, AND vomit. All three are correct answers.

That's definitely pubic hair, and maybe a little vomit.

I'm guessing that's either blood, poop, or bloody poop.

I won't touch a stretcher without some heavy-duty, space-man-suit-like protection. The top of the stretcher and some of the handles get wiped down every now and then, but everything else goes by the rule, "if it looks clean, then it is clean."

This is a stretcher rail in regular light...

Here's a stretcher rail in black light...notice all the little splatters of 'who-knows-what'.

Here's a seatbelt in regular light...

Here's a seatbelt in black light. These seatbelts make direct contact with every loser we ever transport, AND they're highly absorbent.

This is a latch underneath the stretcher...

Here's the same latch in black light. Since this latch is on the underside of the stretcher, I imagine it has never been cleaned. The rule is, "Out of must be clean."

Blood Pressure Cuffs
Blood pressure cuffs get cleaned about once every few days, maybe, and every time we use them on someone REALLY bloody. Other than that, when an EMT puts a blood pressure cuff on you, you're essentially sticking your arm into a petri dish containing body fluid samples from every hobo that has worn that cuff over the past few days. Even when they do get cleaned, it's not exactly a thorough cleaning. The same is true for stethescopes, pulse oximeters, and all the vital-taking equipment at the hospital. I mean, why would WE want to clean this stuff, it's not like this equipment has to touch OUR skin, just YOURS.

Here are some cuffs in regular light, and below are some cuffs in black light. Is that vomit I see on the cuff, or is that just some sperm?

Does it make you feel good that EMT's wear gloves? Have you ever thought about all the things EMT's touch, with their gloves ON, that have already been contaminated by some other loser? The reason most EMT's religiously wear gloves is to protect THEMSELVES from you and all the contamination in the back of the ambulance. They touch all the stuff in the back of the ambulance, which has been contaminated by every variety of dung-covered loser you could ever imagine, then they touch YOU.

This keyboard LOOKS innocent, but it's really a breeding ground for every pathogen known to science. Sure, we have our gloves on when we touch it, but then we touch YOU.

I'd rather lick the anus of a dead possum than touch this knob with my bare hands.

These straps have exchanged more body fluids than Wilt Chamberlain.

This IV hanger has never been cleaned; I triple your money back guarantee it. Imagine the lush tropical forest of filth growing on that thing.

Look at this little gem I found in the back of the ambulance. It's a fork with food hanging off of it. Not only will you be contaminated by all the hobos that have ever ridden back here, you'll also enjoy the contamination of the EMT's saliva and trichinosis covered fork.

Here's some goop and sludge hiding on the floor, around the stretcher retainer. It looks like it's probably just some human scabs and some roach poo.

Here's a little more tape residue, which has the ability to collect 400x its mass in human DNA. Which combination of body fluids do you think have to mix together to create the color black?

So...the next time you think the ambulance might be a nice, convenient way to safely get your mother to the hospital, consider the fact that the clowns on the ambulance couldn't care less about your mother's health, they probably don't have anything to give your mother to improve her health or comfort, the ride is about as pleasant as a bicycle with no seat, and most importantly, climbing into an ambulance is like swimming in a septic tank with open wounds. Save your mom the hassle, instead of calling her an ambulance, just stand above her and defecate in her trach tube, then go hook her feeding tube up to her colostomy bag.

Saturday, September 20, 2008

Recovering From a Major Hurricane...

I won't say which city I work in, or which storm it was, but there was a hurricane that passed through our town. This storm wreaked havoc, turning thousands of people into worthless, inept, entitled, begging, victims, waiting for government programs to bail them out of their lack of preparation. Then, when they got their handouts, they actually complained that the government was not doing enough to help. How did it ever become the job of the government to ensure that everyone is well-fed, warm, dry, housed, healthy, and generally happy? The RIGHT to life, liberty, and property is not the same as ENSURING life, liberty, and property. Also, these victims couldn't be happy that they got a LITTLE help from a charitable organization (which collects its donations with guns and force); these losers are actually irrate that the charitable organization didn't do more or do it quicker.

The following are some of the ambulance runs I made during the storm recovery...

House A Blaze
8:44 Electricity came back on at a house that wasn't quite ready for it. The electricity shorted out some stuff in the kitchen, and started a small fire under the cabinets. We hung out for a little while, watched the brave firefighters extinguish the blaze, and then took off.

911 Call, Then Got Tired of Waiting For Their Emergency Taxi
9:22 Someone called 911 for a breathing problem, but when we got there, somebody told us they got tired of waiting, and they ended up having to get their own ride to the hospital. I felt so bad that someone had to ride in their own car to the hospital, instead of being able to ride in the highly contaminated luxury of a gubment-funded ambulousine.

"That Light Was Green; I Swear it Was"
9:58 We responded to a car accident at a light-controlled intersection, in which the light was not working, due to the storm. One dude stopped at the intersection, and then he proceeded through the intersection. He did what he was supposed to do...he stopped...he just didn't bother to check to see if any traffic was coming before he proceeded. Some lady was coming the other way, and she didn't even bother stopping. She told us, "That light was green; I swear it was." The traffic light was completely wasn't red, yellow, OR green. The lady had a sore rib, and the other guy had a hurt wrist. Neither of them felt like they needed an ambulance, but the guy with the hurt wrist needed a little education on what an ambulance can and can not do for a hurt wrist. At first he wanted to go to the hospital in the ambulance, but he finally realized he probably didn't need an ambulance, when we informed him that we didn't have any Ibuprofen. He decided he would just go with his wife who was on scene with her car.

Using a Chainsaw to Cut Debris...Oh and, A Little Bit of His Foot...
10:23 We responded to a 40 y/o HM who was cutting tree limbs from in front of a bank with a chainsaw (motosierra). He hit a knot in the tree, and the motosierra bounced back and hit his foot. The motosierra cut through his shoe, his skin, and some of his bones and tendons. The entire area was painted with blood. When we arrived, he was in his friend's truck, with his foot wrapped up with shirts, sitting in a pool of blood. We left the wrapping in place, added some pressure dressings, applied pressure, and hauled him to the hospital. The saddest part is that from the time the injury occurred to the time he arrived at the hospital was about 45 minutes. It would have been about 15 minutes if he would have just gone in the car he was sitting in. The guy let me take a picture of his foot after we cleaned up most of the blood...

Imagine Yourself Calling 911 For a Giant Zit
1:22 We responded to the apartment of a 26 y/o HF CO being bitten by a spider approximately 5 days prior. She said she would have gone to the doctor, but there was a storm, so she didn't go. She didn't know whether or not she was bitten by a spider; she just assumed she had been bitten because it was such a big, nasty, pus-y, discolored, swollen mound of flesh. We gave her a $500 taxi ride to the hospital (with no treatment...we've got nothing for a big infected wound), and when we arrived, the nurse diagnosed her spider bite as a giant zit, and she sent her to the waiting room with the other 50 victims of the storm (in one way or another).

Emergency Elevator Service
12:53 We were called by a 75 y/o WM, living in a high-rise assisted-living home. He lived on the 9th floor. Somehow the assisted-living home did not have a contingency plan for when the elevators were out and a 75 y/o guy, living on the 9th floor, wanted to get downstairs. So, they called 911. We carried him down 18 flights of stairs (2 per floor). When we got downstairs, he asked us to get him close to his car. When we got close to the car, he stood up, walked to his car, got in his car, and drove himself to the airport for his trip to New Orleans. I guess he'll call 911 when he gets to the airport, so they can carry him to his plane.

Warning...Do Not Cut Your Arteries With Broken Glass
18:01 We responded to a 33 y/o HM who was moving some broken glass (from the storm), and he dropped it on his leg. By the time we got to his house, there was blood all over his house. You could see the storyline of what happened and where he walked by following the trail of blood. His blood pressure was kind of low (around 90 palpated), so we loaded him pretty quickly and took off for the hospital. He said it was actually squirting blood, which means it was probably an arterial bleed. He had applied duct tape as a tourniquet, and he had wrapped his wound in duct tape. However, even with all the duct tape, there was still quite a bit of blood coming out all over the stretcher and ambulance. The hospital staff put on their riot gear and un-wrapped the wound.....only to find that the artery had apparently retracted, and it had stopped spraying blood. Very disappointing. I didn't even bother taking a picture at that point.

I Don't Think I Want To Go To The Hospital, So I'll Just Call 911
19:49 We responded to the home of a 42 y/o WF CO dizziness while she was running several miles. She said she has heart arrythmias, and she also might have anxiety. She told us she didn't really want to go to the hospital; she just wanted us to come look at her and let her know if she really needed to go. I guess that's what 911 has become...a step between going to the hospital and not going to the hospital.

Crazy Chick With a Tummy Ache
21:47 Responded to an apartment complex for a 24 y/o WF CO a tummy ache for the past 5 days. She didn't want to go get looked at until now because of the storm. She had no other complaints, and her vitals were normal. She was, however, very crazy...taking all kinds of crazy meds. We took her to the hospital, and they sent her the waiting room to wait with the other hundreds of tummy aches.

$500 Debit Card Prank
My favorite part of the whole storm recovery was when some pranksters actually got a rumor going that FEMA was going to give out $500 debit cards to victims of the storm (I swear it wasn't me...there are people far Crusty-er than I am out there). Thousands of people showed up along with News crews. There were no debit cards, and the people nearly started rioting. They were quoted as saying "FEMA neeta pay us fo da gas we use ta drive hee-ah ta git ah checks" and "FEMA ain't heppin us out nough; dey neeta give us mo'...ah people is suffrin!"

Sunday, August 24, 2008

Crusty's Guide to Successfully Committing Suicide

So, You Think Suicide Might Be Right For You?
So you've decided to commit've come to right place. This guide will give you some tips and tricks for successfully committing suicide from an insider who has seen every possible kind of suicide attempt. If you follow my advice carefully, you will be guaranteed to have a successful and delightful suicide...a suicide that your friends and family will respectfully admire and remember fondly. They'll say nice things like, "Damn, is that your name here?...I don't hardly recognize him among all that dismembered flesh!...That'll be the last time I don't believe HIM when he says he's going to kill himself...hee hee hee?"

Fakers...Go Read a Faker's Tutorial
If you're just looking to make a mess out of yourself, cry for help, teach someone a lesson, take a break from life for a couple of months in a mental institution, or get attention, without actually off-ing yourself, then this is not the tutorial for you. If you've already done the research, searched your soul, and you're ready to boldly and gracefully do something for yourself that you've long deserved (cold, dark death), then you're in the right place.

Overcoming The Pesky 'Will To Live'
The first step to committing suicide is COMMITTING to commit suicide. You're not likely to be successful without some solid commitment. I think the most surprising part about killing yourself, for most people, is the sudden acquisition of 'the will to live,' which seems to surface just when death is beginning to have it's way with you. It's usually when you see the massive amount of blood, feel the exquisite pain, or start to feel the pre-death sleepiness coming on. This sudden 'will to live' is what causes otherwise well-intentioned people to call 911, call a friend, or somehow find a way to save their worthless existence. You need to plan on regaining 'the will to live,' and you need to properly ensure that your sudden 'will to live' does not allow you do something save bag-of-shit self. If it wasn't for this pesky 'will to live,' I would never be called to an "attempted suicide;" I would only be called to COMMITTED suicides (DOA's).

Carefully Selecting a Suicide Method That Looks Good On You
The best way to ensure that 'the will to live' does not rear its ugly head in your suicide attempt is to thoughtfully select the best suicide method for you, then artfully execute your plan. The best suicide methods are those that do not allow you to back out at any moment. 'All-or-nothing' suicide methods are what you should be looking for. For example, shooting yourself in the head, cutting your carotid artery, hanging yourself, or jumping off a 50-story building.  These are all acceptable, 'all-or-nothing' methods of killing yourself. Half-hearted, lame, uncool ways of killing yourself include taking pills, cutting your wrists, asphyxiating yourself, jumping into water, drinking bleach, eating razorblades, choking yourself, or running through traffic. These half-hearted attempts just cause people to think of you as more of a failure than they already do. You won't ever find someone bragging about a suicide ATTEMPT, only COMMITTED suicides; and you'll never hear someone say anything benevolent about an unsuccessful suicide. Do you want to earn people's respect and humble adoration? ...Don't just attempt suicide, COMMIT suicide...massacre it now, you puss. If you select the right suicide method for you, not only will it kill you, but you'll look good doing it.  You'll be regarded as a goddamn artist.

Other People Don't Care About You...Don't Let Them Get In Your Way
Another important point to remember is to make sure you don't let anyone find out you're about to commit suicide. Suicide hotlines, 911, and phone calls to friends & family are for UNcommitted pansies. If you wisely choose the proper method (a good 'all or nothing' method), you won't have to worry about calling someone later on, because you won't be able to call'll be nice & dead.

Hazards Of Slow-Kill Methods
If you foolishly choose a slow, painful way of dying, then you run the risk of picking up the phone and calling for help, or finding some other way to back-out of "Operation End-It-All." Slow-kill methods also increase the chances of someone walking in on your charade and attempting to save you. So...if for some dumb reason, you DO choose a slow-kill method, which could cause you to acquire 'the will to live' and want to back out, then you need to do some pre-planning, in order to show the rest of us that you're not an uncommitted bitch. You need to cut the phone lines, destroy your cell phone, or do your sacred 'slow-kill' ritual where nobody could possibly catch you in the act. Then, if you do the proper pre-planning, all you need to do is enjoy the sweet sensations of being helplessly unable to stop death from making you its bitch.

Don't Notify Others; They Only Care About Themselves
NEVER call someone BEFORE you begin your suicide attempt, either. This is the dumbest thing you can do. It's true that nobody cares about you, but people will pretend to care, and they'll call 911 for you, even though they secretly wish they would have let you kill yourself. Remember, they won't personally show up; they'll call 911. They pretend to care because they just don't want to feel bad about themselves. They don't care about YOU. They only care about themselves. You'll be surprised at how much people will pretend to care, for their own sake. Don't take chances on the possibility that someone might act against their better judgement and do something to help save your life.  It's bad for everyone...they'll regret helping you, and you'll regret being help...lose-lose situation.  Don't do it.

If You Must Notify Somebody, Do It Covertly and Creatively
I realize that it's tempting to punish someone by making them see you take your final breaths, or be the first to find your mutilated body, causing them to feel guilty that your suicide was partly because of them, and causing them to have the image of your human wreckage permanently ingrained in their every memory; but there are ways of doing this covertly & creatively, which will not thwart your plan to kill yourself. For example, you could lure them to your house by saying that you've prepared a delicious meal...try saying it's a super moist pot roast or a brisket you've smoked all night...people are suckers for that shit. Then...when they arrive, bitch-slap...they're too're fucking dead...and it's their god-damn fault (...or, at least they'll feel like it is).  Chances are, if they're the first people to find your unsightly corpse, the trauma will cause them to kill themselves very soon...hahaha.

Make a Crusty Ambulance Driver Proud
In short, COMMIT to committing suicide. Think it through, do your research, interview those who have been unsuccessful (be sure to remind them that they suck), pick a method that works for you, don't be a pansy, and be sure to pre-plan to avoid any sudden onset of 'the will to live.' If you follow this advice, you'll have an enjoyable, successful which your friends and family may want to emulate one day. Remember, you can only kill yourself ONCE, so make it a death extravaganza.  And, remember to HAVE FUN!...people always forget to have fun when they're killing themselves.

Because of this tutorial, I would expect nobody to ever fail at ending their failure-rich lives again. Make a Crusty Ambulance Driver proud...don't just mutilate yourself a little...make a statement...turn yourself into a work of the world what admirably massive balls you have...ANNIHILATE your pathetic self.

Note/Disclaimer/Whatever: I do not actually support, condone, encourage, or otherwise hope that you or anybody else would commit suicide (in most cases). I believe the purpose of life is to improve yourself and the world around you. By committing suicide, you are squandering that opportunity. In addition, suicide leaves your friends and family hurt, angry, and confused. In a lot of cases, when people commit suicide, they are abdicating their responsibilities and commitments, and leaving friends and family with messes to clean up and additional responsibilities to assume. In these cases, suicide is a greedy, self-indulging, cowardly act.

The purpose of this blog entry was to satirically make light of an otherwise very somber issue, in an attempt to shockingly entertain you (and me) and make a statement about a very frustrating aspect of my job, which is suicide "attempts." Don't kill yourself, and especially don't "attempt" to kill yourself. Use your problems as an opportunity to learn and grow. If you really think you might want to check out of life, clean up your problems, so others aren't left to clean up after you, and go join the Marines, The World Police (America, F@#! yeah); or go volunteer for some highly experimental, underground human drug testing...let someone turn you into a half-man, half-goat. Go give your life saving the world or something.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Somebody Abused The Emergency 911 Medical Services Today

Score One More For The FDA

8:30 A man called 911 for his 59 y/o WF wife who was cold and stiff, laying in bed. He went to check on her and see if she wanted some coffee, and he found her very dead. So, he called for a life-saving emergency 911 ambulance. We hung out with him until the police arrived. He told us his wife has been afflicted with "black lung" for 32 years. She's never smoked or drunk; she got black lung from an FDA approved anesthetic. Thanks FDA, what would we do without you? What's the difference between taking our chances on FDA approved drugs and taking our chances on drugs tested by private companies? The only difference I can think of is that we might actually educate ourselves and be a little more cautious about the drugs we take, if we didn't have the false sense of security that the FDA provides. How many of the FDA approved drugs we take today are going to give us "black lung" in 30 years?

Shooken Up Neutralizers To The Rescue

9:33 We responded to an MVA. When we arrived, we found nobody with any complaints or injuries. I asked the cop who called 911. He said, "dem people in dat ca look pre'y shook up...ah jus wan ya'll ta check em out." I professionally replied, "yeah, I wish I could help, but we're all out of shooken up medicine."

Chronic Brain Problems Acting Up

10:28 We responded to the home of 56 y/o HM in the care of his 30 y/o daughter. He fell two days ago and injured his ribs. He fell again today, but he had no new injuries. He falls a lot, but he's been falling a lot more for the past couple of weeks. He had an aneurism 2 1/2 years ago, and he's been mentally impaired ever since. So...we did the only thing we can do for a guy with chronic brain problems...gave him a deluxe, ambassador's service ride in the back of our pathogen greenhouse.

Low Blood Sugar...Totally Resistant To Diet Coke

12:26 We were called to the restaurant of a doctor's office building, which was across the street from a hospital, and next door to a pharmacy (a pharmacy that sells glucose tabs). We were 10 minutes away. Our patient was a 62 y/o HF with low blood sugar. She took her insulin this morning at around 9, but she didn't eat anything. When she was at the doctor's office for her husband, she started to feel sick, so she walked downstairs with her daughter, she went to the restaurant, and they ordered a Diet Coke. The Diet Coke somehow did not improve her lack of sugar. When we showed up, her blood sugar was 29. We gave her glucose (non-diet), and she got all better.


13:58 We were called to a suspected fracture 15 miles away. When we were about 20 minutes into our response, we were disregarded. Apparently, the patient got tired of waiting for a $500 bandaid and decided to take matters into his own hands and drive to the hospital without our bandaids.

Internal Bleeding...Err...Umm...Drug Run

15:31 This stupid druggy called us because he thought maybe he might be experiencing some internal bleeding, because his poo was darker than usual. This isn't the stupidest part. He wanted us to take him to a hospital 25 miles away for his highly urgent emergency condition. We're not normally supposed to go that far, but my supervisor said he thought I should take him there, since he had been there several times for the same condition. When we arrived 40 minutes later, we found out he had in fact been there several times for the same condition, in fact he had been there a couple of times this week alone. I found out he used to live near that hospital, and I found out he currently lives by our fire station because he lives in a gubment funded halfway house for his addiction to Oxycotin.

I ain't the sharpest cookie that was born yesterday this side of the tool shed, but I just wonder if maybe he might have a drug dealer near the hospital. I'm proud to have a hand in a system wherein multiple gubment programs are able to synergistically work together to facilitate this guy's drug addiction by giving him a free place to live and giving him free rides to his drug dealer.

Uh...Duh...Impressive Family

18:28 A driver of a worker van ran into a massive, custom made van containing a family of 11. This van had eight individual seats and a bench that sat three. All the seats were occupied. There were nine kids, and six of them were in car seats. I asked, "Is this a day care business?" In a half-offended way, the woman said "no, these are my kids." Struck with dumbness, I said, "wow...what an impressive family." There were three 7 year old boys, four 1.5 year old girls, and two 4 month old babies. I imagine they were from three litters, because each set looked very similar in appearance and age. Somehow there were no injuries, even though the van was severely damaged.

Two Ambulances vs. One Drunk Guy

2:11 Two ambulances were called to a drunk guy who pulled off the road to go to sleep. He didn't need either ambulance. Apparently, what he did need was a police officer to arrest him for drunk driving, after feeling the hood of his car and determining that he must have been driving drunk because the hood is still warm (a defense lawyer's dream).

A Psychological Bandaid

3:57 The son of a 91 y/o WF called us because she has the shakes, and she's had the shakes since earlier today. Everything checked out O.K., and the woman did not want to go to the hospital. Really, she and her son just wanted us to tell her she was O.K. This is a beautiful example of someone being sick enough to call an emergency ambulance but not sick enough to go to the hospital. Sometimes people just need a psychological specialty.

Another Gubment Assisted Drug Run

5:59 We were called to a halfway house for a guy who had crapped all over himself. His caretaker said, "he crapped all over himself, and he's got HIV; I ain't touching him." Apparently he took all his Zanex too quickly, and he wanted to go to the hospital to get some more. The caretaker told me she would take him to the hospital, but she signed an agreement saying she wouldn't drive him anywhere. Later I asked the patient how he was going to get home from his drug run, and he said he was going to call his caretaker. I don't understand why we don't just skip all the middlemen and just drive around giving out the prescription drugs that people enjoy abusing recreationally. (update...we picked up this same guy two nights later for the same problem...apparently the first hospital he went to didn't refill his prescription)

Thursday, June 5, 2008

The Pez Dispenser...Gaping Neck Wound

At around 11:00 a.m. on Sunday, we were called to an Evangelical church in the middle of a predominantly black neighborhood, for an injury/laceration. When we arrived, we knew we had a real emergency because we were being waved in by other firefighters.... acting like third base coaches in a baseball game, waving in the winning run of the decisive game in the world series (it's rare to see fellow firefighters get that excited about something). Our second indicator that we had a significant injury was the reactions of the black, Evangelical worshippers, who are already a very dramatic group of people, were now in a complete panic, strewing their bodies about the chapel, praying and chanting. Our final indicator that something was seriously wrong was the solid trail of blood, running up the steps of the church, straight down the middle of the aisle, terminating just in front of the pulpit of the church, where we saw a 30 y/o HM, drench in blood, surrounded by a pool of blood, kneeling down, and holding a drenched trauma dressing to his neck.

According to the patient's girlfriend...since the patient wasn't in a story-telling mood...this guy was attempting to commit suicide, by cutting his own neck. Normally, this is a surefire, no frills way of getting the job done, as seen in Quentin Tarantino movies, where people die quickly of lacerations to the neck while painting the room with blood spraying from their necks. Well...this guy lacked the vital knowledge that, in order to make this method of suicide work successfully, you need to make sure you cut one or both of the carotid arteries. He somehow cut everything except the carotid arteries. He cut through his trachea and esophagus, but he missed the arteries. You see,... he cut deep rather than wide. There was a lot of blood, but it was all from veins and capillaries, rather than was oozing, rather than spraying.

If you're going to kill yourself by cutting your neck open, ALWAYS START AT THE CAROTID ARTERIES, not at the front of your Adam's Apple (find your carotid arteries by touching two fingers to your neck, just to the sides of your trachea, until you feel the pulsating arteries). The chances are, if you start at your Adam's Apple, you'll give up before you get to your carotid arteries, due to pain, blood loss, difficulties breathing, blood aspiration, or general discomfort. Also, ALWAYS USE THE SHARPEST KNIFE AVAILABLE. Maybe this guy was using some sort of butter knife or similarly inferior blade, and he ended up having to saw his neck open, rather than gently slicing his neck open. I would recommend using a Wustof bread-cutting knife; it's long, sharp, and it's serrated, which would help get through some of those tough (cartilage-y) spots. I don't know what made this guy stop sawing open his own neck before getting to his carotid arteries...he wasn't in a story-telling mood...but just before he carved open his carotid arteries, he suddenly acquired the will to live.

He got in the car with his girlfriend, and she drove him to the nearest Evangelical church, of course. They were in the middle of singing praises to the lord, speaking in tongues, and rolling on the ground, overcome with the Holy Ghost, when this guy came staggering up the aisle, holding his gaping neck wound with two hands (the international sign for 'I just sawed my neck open'), and leaving a trail of blood on the carpet.

We removed the trauma dressing to take a look (partly for business reasons, partly for entertainment reasons), and we quickly re-applied the trauma dressing, when we saw that his neck had become a horror film, and it was still generously disseminating blood. We threw the guy onto the stretcher and quickly hauled him to the nearest Level 1 trauma facility.

While enroute, the patient kept losing consciousness, and every time he would lose consciousness, he would allow his head to fall backwards, which would expose the MASSIVE wound in the guy's neck, making him look like a giant Pez Dispenser. It was interesting that whenever his head was forward, he would breath through his mouth, but when his head fell backward, he would breath through his neck-hole. Breathing was not exactly easy, since blood was running down his trachea, into his lungs, causing him to gurgle on blood and occasionally cough up the blood (sort of...through his new mouth in his neck).

When we got to the hospital, he was taken straight to the operating room. The patient was almost completely unconscious at this point, and the doctors had applied a topical anesthetic. For the first time, I actually felt a little nauseous, when the doctors started probing his massive neck hole with their whole hands...almost like a little kid would crudely pull open a half-broken pinata to see if there's any candy left inside.

Overall, the patient was in pretty good condition, and the doctors thought they could put this dude's neck back together again. This was probably the most ambitious, failed suicide attempt I had ever seen.

Possibly the Saddest Call I've Ever Made (5/17/2007, 19:09)

Possibly the Saddest Call I've Ever Made (5/17/2007, 19:09)
Tire Change, Jack Failed, Family Man Died

Chevy HHR Flipped...They Do That Sometimes (5/17/2007, 2:40 a.m.)

Chevy HHR Flipped...They Do That Sometimes (5/17/2007, 2:40 a.m.)
Minor cuts and abrasions

White Trans Am Vs. Metro Bus (5/9/2007, 17:05)

White Trans Am Vs. Metro Bus (5/9/2007, 17:05)
Metro--1; Trans Am--0

Suicide Cocktail (4/17/2007, 19:25)

Suicide Cocktail (4/17/2007, 19:25)
Another botched attempt.

Jeep Take-Home Test-Drive (4/15/2007, 14:04)

Jeep Take-Home Test-Drive (4/15/2007, 14:04)
It Failed!