The blue flashing lights were a give away. As were the waving arms. But really, it was the classic rhythmic movement of someone performing chest compressions that caught my eye. And at 200yds and closing fast you could tell the compressions were good. Really good. Hard and fast.
Skidding to a halt and very nearly T-boning a police vehicle (oh the cakes I would have had to have bought!!!) I jumped out the car, grabbed the Lifepak machine and headed over to the commotion. A crew had arrived at the same time and were bringing the rest of the gear.
What was happening? Well, an old man had collapsed in the street and gone into cardiac arrest of course. Continue reading
As the truck came to a halt outside the property I went to jump out the passenger side. Unfortunately, my foot caught on the door . . . the result of which was a horizontal dive straight into a puddle below.
There was much mirth. Even the woman waving at us from the front door shared a chuckle. However, it should be noted at this point, it was the last time anything remotely funny happened on this job . . .
A twenty two year old having a stroke is highly unlikely . . . but not impossible I imagine.
However, forgive me for not feeling a surge of adrenaline when the job came down as “Red 2. CVA. Weak, numb, head pain”. So, I brushed off the thousands of pistachio nut casings from my lap into the drivers well, put on my seat belt and sped off toward the job. Continue reading
I like cats. So does my wife. In fact she really likes cats. So much so, there’s not a day goes past when I’m not asked to get one. Of course, all the while we’re in London we won’t, so to lighten the impending bout of sadness that ensues after saying ‘no’ I always try and lighten the conversation with a cat joke . . . like, “how do you make a cat go woof?”. Sometimes though, I just don’t think my wife has a sense of humour!
Which is why this next entry is of great interest. It involves a cat . . . well, a kitten really. And a sense of humour. This was not my job but someone else’s. The person told me about this for my blog a few years ago and it happened a while before then. The only reason I’ve not put it up so far is because my wife forbade me to do so – due to it’s graphic content and outcome. So, please read on – but remember, I am merely relaying the events through the medium of “artistic writing”. Make your own mind up on the ethics side of things!
“It really hurts”
The young teenager cried and looked sorry for herself. She’d been attacked in the street by some older lads – they’d repeatedly struck her with scaffold padding and she’d inevitably held up her arms in defence. Now, back at her home she was complaining of immense pain in one of her forearms. There were no obvious signs of a break and she had good movement in her hand and arm. However, feeling sorry for the poor girl I uttered my next suggestion without first considering it’s inevitably disastrous consequences . . .
“Would you like me to put your arm in a sling?”
Again, I appear to have left it a long while before writing another blog.
I think I’ll just concede to the fact that entries will be sporadic and a bit like the buses . . . you wait for ages then three all come at once.
Apologies for the delay . . . here’s a simple one and more will follow – honest!