BLS
Today I worked on a day car with another medic and a third rider that just started at the company. The guy I worked with is in a different system than me, and the gear assigned to the rig is in the same system. In other words, I am the BLS biotch for the day. Great.
Our first call went from a local psych facility to a state psych facility south west of us. A long drive, but it was okay.
We did a call for "generalized pain" on a priority, which turned out to be an anxiety attack. She told me I don't know what I'm doing.
Another call-abdominal pain, on a priority. The woman was just chilling out when we got there. She was sitting in her chair with her feet propped up. She looked completely normal except for her stomach, which looked like she should have been about 6 months pregnant. She had a history of obstructions.
We did a transfer for a blood transfusion. Then a transfer back to the nursing home for a woman who was screaming and crying hysterically. Her son was something else-requesting all our papers and copies of everything. All I gave him was our privacy policy. He asked for the company's phone number and our names. Whatever. As soon as he was out of sight and his mother was on the cot, the screaming and crying stopped. Wierd.
Finally some rest-soon. We got off right around 2300. It sucks that today is St. Patrick's Day, and I can't even go out and have a good time. Damn it.
Our first call went from a local psych facility to a state psych facility south west of us. A long drive, but it was okay.
We did a call for "generalized pain" on a priority, which turned out to be an anxiety attack. She told me I don't know what I'm doing.
Another call-abdominal pain, on a priority. The woman was just chilling out when we got there. She was sitting in her chair with her feet propped up. She looked completely normal except for her stomach, which looked like she should have been about 6 months pregnant. She had a history of obstructions.
We did a transfer for a blood transfusion. Then a transfer back to the nursing home for a woman who was screaming and crying hysterically. Her son was something else-requesting all our papers and copies of everything. All I gave him was our privacy policy. He asked for the company's phone number and our names. Whatever. As soon as he was out of sight and his mother was on the cot, the screaming and crying stopped. Wierd.
Finally some rest-soon. We got off right around 2300. It sucks that today is St. Patrick's Day, and I can't even go out and have a good time. Damn it.
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