“You can feel it going . . . go on, have a feel” She said through streaming tears and gritted teeth.
I placed my hand on her tiny stomach and sure enough, I could feel it . . .
BZZZZZZZZ – BZZZZZZZZ – BZZZZZZZZ – BZZZZZZZZ – BZZZZZZZZ
“Wow!” I said, genuinely impressed. I looked back up at our patient and smiled . . . not that this helped in any way. You see, our patient had managed to get a vibrator stuck up in her rectum – and it was switched on at full speed.
I’ve never had a guest entry written on this blog before. And quite honestly, I never thought I would either. However, I’m warming to the idea as several people have, in the past, mentioned it. And, after meeting up with Ella Shaw(who writes the “other” paramenace blog, tryingmypatients.co.uk) and being allowed to write one on their blog it only seemed fair trade to allow the same.
We both gave each other a vague theme to cover and for my blog I gave the vague theme of humour. Disastrous humour. I read this last night and burst out laughing . . . as these things – well, you just can’t make them up.
Now, read on . . . with thanks and courtesy to Ella Shaw from www.tryingmypatients.co.uk
“84 year old male, chest pain, dementia”
It was student season. For 4-5 weeks the paramedic university students were chucked out from the comfort of their lecture rooms to the unforgiving shift patterns of their respective mentors. It is during this time they hone their skills and learn how to take a patient history, diagnose conditions and talk to people. Of course, always under the watchful eyes of one of us! I remember being chucked into the deep end all those years ago. Staring blankly at an expectant patient and not having a clue what to say, there were so many awkward silences! It’s just part of the learning process.
Using a pen torch the Doctor calmly checked the pupils of our patient. Without looking back at us she spoke in both a matter-of-fact way and accusing tone.
“Hmmm, pinpoint pupils. And why haven’t you given any Narcan*?”
We all glanced at each other in sudden disbelief. There were four of us stood there in resuss. Me, my crew mate and two MRUs (Motorcycle Response Units). Sweat was pouring from all of us – more so from the MRUs in their leathers – and we were all fighting for breath. Clothes were disheveled, my shirt buttons were ripped, someone had a fat lip and hair was hanging about our faces. Bent double with my hands on my knees I threw one hand up, pointing with vagueness toward the sleeping patient.
“Um . . . **puff, pant** . . . we’d . . . **puff** . . . he’d . . . ”
Half an hour earlier and this was quite a different story . . . Continue reading
Crew stood in dirty flat in front of unkempt patient. Long greasy hair hangs chaotically and thinly down the shoulders of the patient’s topless torso – fat, hairy and unclean. Nicotine stained fingers grip tightly onto a roll up fag flicking ash onto a dirt and faeces ridden carpet. The air is thick with the smell of smoke, BO and stale urine. Outside it is dark and raining signalling this as the off-job to a typically long shift.
**Patient has been talking non stop about their ailments. The crew are standing by delirious with fatigue**
PATIENT: . . . . and then there’s this rash I keep gettin’ over me arse cheeks – always on the weekend. When I’ve ‘ad me a curry. Oh, and this pain in my left ankle . . . it’s killing mate. I’m telling youse, last year when I got investigated, them there Doctors at the ‘ospital – well, they said it was gaaaht . . . or summit like that. Can’t remember. But naaah, I’ve got this pain all daaahn me right arm ain’t I. Been there for weeks. And don’t get me started on . . .
**patient’s voice drifts off as Binder’s eyes glaze over** Continue reading
I had the personal good fortune in being contacted by a fellow ambulance blogger, Ella Shaw a wee while back.
Ella writes a similar satirical blog to mine (albeit, probably more wittier and definately more popular! I’M NOT BITTER!!!) www.tryingmypatients.co.uk
Anyway, as such we got chatting – and climbing – and decided to write a guest blog for each other . . . I went first. So, here’s the link to that entry . . . .
Super Strength Batteries . . . for all those who havn’t read it already. Hope you like and hopefully soon, if the rope doesn’t “accidently” snap from climbing, Ella will write one back.