A Lesson Learned

So there is this frequent flyer that always calls. It's always bullshit, and the crews are so tired of his lies they treat him harshly. So it's 3am and we are just getting to lay down and try and close our eyes when the beepers fire. Chest pain at the well known location. So we roll lights and sirens waking up the good folks dreaming of dancing sheep, cause if I got to be up so do you, and arrive at the addy to see you know who sitting on a swing. His family is still sleeping and won't even rouse themselves to come to the disco with him. Now, the last time I rolled on him he lied to me. Flat out lied. I hate liars, so I start out reminding him about it and saying that if he lies to me again I will call the po-po to have him arrested for abusing the 911 system. The boy has sickle cell and is complaining of pain in his chest all day. Since little baby J hasn't deemed it necessary to equip me with xray vision, no matter how many times I begged for it as a kid and my 3 dollars to the comic book ad never panned out, i have to trust him. Now here is where I learned a little sumthing that shamed me to my core. I WAS NICE TO HIM. I didn't give him narcs, he never asked. All I did was treat him with the same respect he was giving me. He was cold so I got a blanket and tucked him in on the stretcher. I'm in cajun land, I'm reasonably sure our AC units come from meat lockers, so it was chilly even for me but due to the fickle nature of our units you never touch the settings lest they refuse to come on again and you find yourself hauling the gaseous gangrene ALS transport. Trust me, 10 mossy oak air deodorizers, in the words of Hammer, can't touch that.  Anyhoo, I was nice to him. I treated this guy with respect due any human being, and he started crying. CRYING! I was so ashamed. Ashamed of my fellow medics, ashamed of my service and profession as a whole.I learned a lesson not taught in school that night as we off loaded him onto the hospital bed. There but for the grace of god go I, and to treat EVERYONE I roll on the exact same as I would want myself or my family treated.

Long Days and Nights

I ran a call the other day that had me thinking. A young lady had destroyed her liver by her own actions. As I transported her and her mother I was torn. Do I let myself feel apathy for the patient because her own life choices caused her liver's destruction that is now going to be paid for with my tax dollars, or do I embrace the compassion for the mother who now has to raise a grandchild when her daughter dies. I'm so new to this profession that I find it hard to believe that I am already feeling apathy, or anger, for those who abuse our tax dollars with things that could have been prevented if they only gave a damn about their own lives.

And So It Is...

I've been cleared by my service to operate as a medic now. Deep breaths, deep breaths. It terrifies me, but at the same time it thrills me like nothing else ever has. I've already run on a lot of bullshit and a really good Oh shit. But, I'll write about that a little later. Right now I'm gonna study my protocols a little more and just go from there.