Friday, November 28, 2008

- Gang Bangin' (Holy shit!)

We're paged out for a shooting at around 3 in the morning - not to say this wasn't expected.

There has already been a shooting tonight, and it seems that retaliatory gunfire has been mandatory. This time it's a little different, however - someone has loaded up a shotgun with slugs, and opened up on the supposed shooter's (from the first murder tonight) house.

Well, the shooter wasn't home, but his 61 year old mother was. There are at least three holes in the door and front wall of the house. I can actually see light coming through from inside. Shotgun shells are scattered allover the driveway, circled by little orange hoops of spray paint to mark them as evidence.

"It's kind of messy in there," says one of the cops. "I was like, 'Holy Shit!'"

I walk in and look at the scene on the floor in front of me. "Holy shit!" I whisper to myself.

Apparently when the shooting began, the first slug - the one that punched a hole through the door, also punched a hole through her, entering through the rear of her left calf, through what I can now see is an inch wide ragged hole. If the front of your foot was 0 degrees, and the read of your calf 180, the slug has entered at a 225 degree angle.

Traveling through the lady's calf, it burst out of the front right side of her shin and continued on though the home. The exit wound is about 4 by 5 inches, about as big of the top of my fist, and is bleeding venously. It looks like someone dumped red paint allover the floor, where it has started to clot already.

If this wasn't enough, the whole neighborhood is out to watch. They sound like a whole zoo, packed into a 100 yard area. The cops are running around everywhere, only a wink at crowd control, and We are forced to park about 50 yards back from where we should be due to improperly parked first responders.

And if that wasn't enough, my partner this evening? Why, it's old Cutsy, every one's favorite Goth wannabe. She's a real mess this evening, and I am entirely unsympathetic.

Hey, I'm kind of an asshole sometimes. I've worked pretty hard to try and help her out but it's like trying to get blood from a turnip. On the usefulness scale, she's falling somewhere in between A Monkey Fucking A Football and a Starfish.

At least If I got mad at a starfish and ripped it to shreds, it could regenerate.

Cutsy manages to drag her ass through the door. "Holy shit!" she yelps.

There are no pulses on the foot no matter how I manipulate it. I tell Cutsy to bandage it up. A ragged chunk of bone visible in the wound and NO WAY YOU CANNOT BE SERIOUS Cutsy is just starring at it as I'm trying to get this patient squared away.

"Cutsy!" Nothing.


She blinks her self awake. "Huh?"

You need to turn down your fucking Cradle of Filth, you superfluous waste of genetic Material. You're going to blow out the tiny little remnant of brains you barely manage to hold on to if you don't lower the volume, you vacuous fucking mouth-breathing hell-spawn sent here to make my life miserable.

That's what I want to say.

Instead I say "Bandage the Leg."


I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting that one. She caught me flatfooted, and now here I am, staring across this old black lady who is bleeding allover the floor, trying to figure out what to say.

Finally I grab the bandage from her, wrap it, and secure it. "Like That," I say gruffly. "Go spike me some bags in the back, please." I look away from her and I can hear her start to cry as she walks outside. It bothers me for nearly a whole second before the anger boils back. How can she not know how to bandage something? She had to have seen that at least once or twice in Basic class. HAD TO. Had to pass it for national registry. All that shit should be fresh in her head.

That's how I used to know you were mad at me, Lazy Partner told me after we stopped working together. You get real polite, and you don't smile at all. That's how I used to know.

Well, I still hate Lazy Partner, and Cutsy is climbing higher on the list.

We transport the lady to the nearest hospital. I can't get a line in her at all - her veins are nonexistent, and if she passes out on me, I can drill her, but I'm betting that the ER might be able to succeed where I've failed.

"Holy shit!" Goes the ER Nurse, when I unwrap the wound. "Call the resident, now!"

"Holy shit!" goes the resident, when he sees the damage. "Call a Trauma alert, now!"

"Holy Shit! Look at the that! The Tibia and Fibula are completed shattered! You can see!" says the Trauma surgeon.

* * *

I walk out to the truck, and sit down next to Cutsy, who is not cleaning, just sitting there shell shocked. "Hey."


"Look, I know you know how to bandage someone. You had to have done it at registry, at least."

"Well, yeah," she concedes meekly. "But I didn't want to hurt her."


"Well, that was a big wound on her leg and she was already hurting. I didn't want to make it worse."

"Sometimes, that part of the fucking job, Cutsy. You need to get used to that. If it's ever just the two of us on scene, I need to know that I can count on you, hopefully as an independent EMT, but barring that, at least as someone who can follow my orders. The lady needed that leg bandaged immediately. You could see how much blood she had lost."

She starts crying again. I whip out a post it and write a phone number on it.

"Here's the number to CISM. Call them right now."

This is the extent to which I will help her.

* * *
So I show up at work the other day and who should I see as part of the off going crew?

Lazy Partner.

Only, now? She's Lazy Paramedic, here to do some ride time to clear as a paramedic in her own right.

It's going to be a long holiday season.


Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Take that nature!

Real Posts coming, I swear.


Sunday, November 23, 2008

- Hey Yall

Coming up - pictures of our new property in Summit, Mississippi, and of me with a chainsaw!

Ladies, prepare your panties for disintegration!


Saturday, November 15, 2008

- Headin' Up The Country

Hey ya'll, blog is going to go silent this weekend - heading up north to do some camping!

See ya Monday!

PS - I Got Tagged - Rules:Pass it on to five other bloggers, and tell them to open the nearest book to page 56. Write out the fifth sentence on that page, and also the next two to five sentences. The CLOSEST BOOK, NOT YOUR FAVORITE, OR MOST INTELLECTUAL!

Yes, Satan?
"Unit Two, go ahead," Bobby awnsers, groaning.

Life, Death, and Everything In Between: A Paramedic's Memoirs, by AD. BUY IT!

Don't have to time to spam it on!


Monday, November 10, 2008

- Confessions of A Weird Guy

I think I'm weird because I get a lot of pleasure out of these and I don't think other people do. Maybe I can get away with "Delightfully Eccentric" instead of "Full-Blown, Mouth-breathing Whacko":

1. Vacuuming - I like to vacuum the house. I don't know why. I like the way the rug looks after the vacuum runs it over. It may be the noise it makes. (others noises I like - the ambulance siren horn, the sound the phone makes when you call someone and it's ringing)

2. Driving with the window down - I'll even put on a jacket and knit cap in the winter just to drive with the window down. I like the breeze! I always get out with a smile on my big dumb face. I sleep with 2 fans going, even in the winter (yes, I have a CPAP too)

3. Folding My Clothes - I get a little excited when my laundry gets done because that means I get to fold everything! It all gets put away in its neat little box or hung up in the closet!

I know, weird, right?


Monday, November 3, 2008

- 007

Well, it was bound to happen sometime. They've finally put a new person in Izzy's spot (insert sad MM face here). It was bound to happen sooner or later - we've gotten a large hire of EMT-Bs since a class just let out.

Our company has a clearing process that new employees have to attend - 3 weeks, roughly, although the first week is purely paper and book work. That leaves the rest of the time for 5 (or 4, if they really need you bad) orientation rides and a clear ride (unless the supervisor is busy) and then the employee is considered "Cleared" - ready to operate as a normal employee.


My new partner shall be referred to as FNG.

Actually, I'm not being fair - he wants to learn. Sure, we had to go to the gas station again last night (wait? There's TWO diesel tanks to fill up?), but hey.

I'm not really much of a teacher - I'll make sure they know how to do basic stuff, like spiking a bag or attaching the heart monitor, and then as things come up in the field I instruct as I go. To me it seems to work better then me telling them fifty things at the beginning of the shift, and then expecting them to just recall everything I said.

So I'm showing FNG how to assemble a prefill syringe and of course, our first call is a cardiac arrest.

Bulldog and Stanky, working the other unit, beat us to the scene, and the fire department and they are working the patient as we walk in. I grab a tube and tell FNG to start compressions.

"Hol up, " says Bulldog. "You don't need it."

I get a good look at the patient. Dead Right There.

"Ok, you want me to call it in?"

Stanky, Bulldog's partner, is doing his last clear ride for his paramedic. "No, no, I got it." He calls it in to dispatch.

FNG has his eyes glued to the body on the floor.

"Hey, FNG."

He does not move. I poke him. He looks up at me, looks a little sick.

"Hey. Good Job."


"Put a notch in your stethoscope, buddy." Fire, Stanky and Bulldog are suppressing their giggles.


"You got a kill on your first call. Strong work. Put a notch in your stethoscope." I hand him my pocket knife.

He just stares at it. I walk out of the room, whistling a jaunty tune.

This morning, when I told him he was but a pawn in my master plan, he laughed, but when I didn't, he stopped.

I'm going to have FUN with this one.