Thursday, September 29, 2011

New Patient Questionnaire.

Recently I was filling out a questionnaire at a new doctors office. After the paperwork was done I was sitting there nervous and trying to think of things to distract myself. While doing this I started thinking about the funny and weird questions that I have come across over the years.

How many glasses of alcohol do you drink a week? My answer one time had a doctor of mine laughing a few years back because I told him it depends on how big the the glasses were.

What sort of recreational activities do you participate in? Uh what do you consider recreational activities? Boating, Skiing, Reading, Sex?

Do you exercise regularly? Does anyone ever answer this honestly? What exactly is considered regularly?

Do you participate in risky behavior? Uh, you gotta give me the definition on this question buddy.

How many body piercing/tattoo's do you have? For some people this would take a while to fill out.

Have you ever been depressed? I think everyone has been depressed at least once in their lifetime but most would never admit to it.

What is your eating habit? How do you really answer this one? I eat food! I eat when I am hungry!

What is your relationship like? Huh! Relationship like with who? My ex? Sucks. My family? Great. My kids? Fantastic. My boyfriend? Got none!

Describe your family history. This is funny because I was knew they were talking about medical history and I was thinking just read someone's blog.

Why are you here today? This question on the paperwork always has a teeny tiny box and I can tell you that most people don't have enough room to put everything on it. I left mine blank for this visit.

My most favorite and the best one of them all.

How many sex partners have you had in your lifetime? Hahahaha Hehehehe Hohohoho Oh Boy. I had to sit in the waiting room trying hard not to laugh out loud but I was grinning like crazy. For some people I know this would be an easy answer. For some this one would take a while to figure out the number to put in the box.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Medical advice

I just thought I would post some advice.

If you have to have surgery, GET A SECOND AND THIRD OPINION.


If you are not sure about something, ASK QUESTIONS.

If something doesn't feel right, KEEP ASKING QUESTIONS UNTIL YOU GET AN ANSWER.

I failed to do this.

I can be really smart but then I can be trusting and naive at times. My trust was broken and I am now paying for it. Time will tell what happens in the future.

Please don't let it happen to someone you know.

Monday, September 19, 2011

I don't trust reporters.

I have very little use for the local news. I avoid it because all they report on is depressing stuff that I don't need to hear about and half the time in their haste to get the news on the air first it is not always accurate. I understand they have a job to do but at the same time when working a call they are like vultures and just plain made my job hard.

This is an example of such a case. We get dispatched to an apartment fire. This was a fully involved fire that gutted several apartments and we had several units on scene. Thankfully no one was hurt except for a cat with some smoke inhalation. We arrived just as the main fire was out and they were putting out the hot spots. We entered the courtyard of the apartment and were directed to the family members of the main apartment that was involved. The mother was nowhere to be found and there was several children in a range of ages. We worked with the children and police while figuring out what happened. About 45 min. later the mother was found. During this time we found out that half of the tenants of the building were family members of the kids. We conferred with the police and decided not to call child protective services.

After a while we recognized several reporters nosing around the crowd and told the family members that they have the right not to talk to the reporters and advised them not to. We can't tell them not to, and wish they didn't for fire investigation purposes, but can't. One of those reporters asked me to talk to them and when I asked them for permission they said no. The reporter was miffed and walked away.

The fire investigator showed up so I went over and started explaining who was who and where they were. When I pointed to where the family of the main apartment was I saw that same reporter was talking with the mother and her kids despite my telling him that they said no to talking to him. Oh crap. Nothing we can do about it now. We gently pull her away as nicely as we could and finished the work that we needed to do.

We finished that call and were sent to several more before we made it back to the station. When we got there we had a message to call headquarters. Oh crap. That doesn't sound good. What have we done wrong. We both go to the office and find out it is from the fire. We are questioned as to why we didn't call child protective services. We explained our decision and that police agreed with us. They explained what the news had been reporting and just wanted to cover the bases (their asses). We had caught some flack because what actually happened and what was reported on TV was totally different.

That is why I don't trust reporters.

Friday, September 16, 2011

Road Warrior

One of the stations that we work out of is actually our own. We inherited it when a new station was built down the street from us. This station is old. I mean really, really old. It was an old house that was converted to a fire station back in the 80’s. It has a garage in the back for the engine and a driveway on the side with a gate that you could squeeze in a few cars. This thing had 2 tiny bedrooms, a bathroom, and the main room of the house that we manage to fit a desk, kitchen table, recliners, couch, and TV. In the garage was all the gym equipment. Everything in that station was a knick-knack of items pilfered donated from other stations and a few we don’t know where it came from since it looks like it was put there in the 80’s and has never moved since.
Because of where the station is located a lot of local police officers stop by to take a break, eat lunch, finish paperwork, or hit the head (bathroom for you non-military folks). We have a great working relationship with the police department because of the huge range of calls we cover has us working with them a lot.
One night while at this little old station I was flipping through TV channels while my partner was taking a nap.  I get a phone call requesting us for a coyote house. The local police had busted a house full of illegals and were busy sorting through all the people to find the smugglers. When a house gets raided they usually try to pretend that they are one of the illegals thus requiring the officers to diligently search through and question each person.  They asked us to respond because it had been a few hours and would be several more and they wanted the illegals checked out and water, snacks, and blankets provided for those who needed it. The location was on the corner of a street in the middle of a housing development. When we arrived there was cop cars parked willy nilly everywhere. No offense to any police officers out there but you guys suck when it comes to parking at calls. I know from personal experience. It makes it a nightmare for me to drive to the scene since I am usually the last one to arrive.
There was no way I was going to be able to get to where I needed to go. The entrance was the only way in and out of this part of the development. While figuring a way in an officer walked up and we got out and started talking about what was going on. My partner then came up with this great idea. “I got it. You drive over the curb, go over the gravel to there,  go between the power poles,  down that hill, and over the curb on the other side. Easy.” See the picture to get an idea of the power poles she was talking about.
I looked at her, at the two monster power poles, the hill, the route she said was easy and looked at her again. I started laughing thinking she was joking but it quickly died when I realized she was serious. “Are you Crazy!!! Uh Uh. No way. I ain’t gonna do it.” I handed her the keys and said that I would spot her while she drove but there was no way I was doing it.
The officer standing there started laughing at me. “You to chicken to do it?”
“Me, chicken. Hell no!” I told him that she had been on the unit a long time. I was brand new and still on probation so if I got even one scratch I would be mired in paperwork up to my teeth for a week. She could get away with it, not me.
I stood alongside and spotted her as she started her drive. It was nerve wracking with her slipping and sliding with gravel spitting everywhere. I noticed as we went along we were gaining an audience. When we got to the other side several officers gave us an applause.

She did an incredible job of driving. Wish I could post pictures of the location to give you a better idea of what was involved but can’t for legal reasons.  Best I could do was post a picture of the type of power poles that she had to drive between.

The things we have to do to get our job done. :-)

Monday, September 12, 2011

My old EMT instructors.

The other night in the ER, I had to duck into the paramedic's room to restock some meds. There was a bunch of them in there and one of them was an instructor from my EMT class. He doesn't remember me because it has been a few years and many students since I had seen him but I sure remember him. He was one of those who struck terror in the students.

All of our instructors were full time firefighters that were working this gig on the side. We had two that were our main teachers and the others would come in periodically for our hands on training. He was one for the hands on training. He had ZERO tolerance for any errors. Today I understand his reasons because a person's life is in your hands but the way he went about it I disagreed with. He was strict and intimidating. And when he corrected you it was in a brash and crude manner like you were a two year old.

He was so bad that our ace student actually failed a practical exercise during mid-terms because he was so flustered and nervous. The whole class and even our main teachers were stunned when that happened. This ace student knew everything because his father and two brothers were firefighters and paramedics.

For mid-term and finals we had a written test and a round robin of several exercises. All of the instructors were on hand and each student would be in a room one on one with an instructor for each exercise. We were all praying that we would not get him. I got him for mid-term and not finals.

Funny thing is that I passed, barely, the mid-term thing with him. What flustered me more was one of the exercises on my final. I you recall an earlier post, Speechless, then you will know what I am talking about. The one hot firefighter instructor and I get paired with him. At the end of the exercise he gives me a funny look and my heart drops to the pit of my stomach. I have done something wrong.

While I was waiting for the test results I realized what I had done wrong. I have made a fatal error on that exercise. I am too embarrassed to tell you what it is but is something so simply stupid as putting your finger in a hole type of thing. Everyone in my group was surprised that I had failed it because I knew it to a tee but I knew why.

With the way the rules are set up I have one chance to take the test again. When I walked back into the room I just ignored him and was looking down at the floor and went through everything step by step and passed with a 100%. Now he looked at me even more funny.

After everything was done my main instructor asked me what happened. I explained to him that I was nervous about finals and just had a huge brain fart. He laughed and said that other than that I passed everything with a perfect score. Should have told him not to pair me with a hunk for the test but then it was better then the tyrant!

Sunday, September 11, 2011

Never Forget

Never forget what we have lost.


Never forget what we are fighting for.

Never forget what we have.

photos courtesy of: kymtnrebel,webshots,sodahead,natureofthemind.

Saturday, September 10, 2011

Conversation on a call.

The tones went off for a shooting. We were to go to an assigned location and stand by until the area was secured and we were requested. We get to the location and parked. On the street was an officer that was blocking entrance to the street but nobody else. I thought it was strange we were alone. “Wonder where everyone else is?”
My partner Joe “Who cares. I am going to take a nap while we wait.”
I sit back and listen to the radio traffic and sit there bored. The clock on the dashboard slowly rolls by. “What do you think is going on?
Joe answered without even opening his eyes. “I don’t know or care. They will call when they need us.”
More time rolls by.
I am starting to get itchy just sitting there. “Joe, I think they forgot about  us.”
Joe mumbles “Give it time. You know how long these calls can be when they are looking for a shooter.”
More time rolls by.
“Joe. I am telling you. They forgot about us.”
“They didn’t forget about us. They will call when they need us.”
More time rolls by.
Finally I am at the end of my patience “Joe. I know they forgot about us. Call the captain or dispatch and see what is going on.”
Joe sits up grumbling at my impatience “Fine!” He gets on the phone and calls dispatch to put him through to the fire captain on scene. They talk but I am unable to decipher the conversation, then he hangs up.
“Well, what did the captain say?”
 Joe leans back, closes his eyes and never looks at me “Go back to the station. Wake me up when we get there.”
“Hah. They did forget about us didn’t they.”
“Yeah. Now shut up and drive. I’m tired.”
We sat there for over an hour for nothing.

Friday, September 9, 2011

Memories of old calls.

I was reading some old posts of Schmoe, and it got me remebering some old calls that I have gone on. So I figured I would regale you with some of them over the next couple of days.

It is late afternoon and we are just sitting down to dinner at the station when we get a call for assistance across town. It is not a regular dispatch call but one called in by a captain. Looking down at the Italian feast that was prepared by the best cook in the station my stomach grumbled, bummed that it was going to miss that meal. Off we went to find out what surprise was in store for us since there was no information other than the address.

We pulled up to a 7-11 store with an engine parked in front. Sitting in a wheelchair was an obvious transient in a hospital gown. Even more quirky was the fact that there was a hospital across the street. Yep, this was going to be interesting.

My partner and I knew the captain of the engine and he explained the situation and after transferring paperwork information they went back into service and left for another call. My partner, Lucy, and I started talking to the guy to get his story and figure out what to do with him.

Mr. Bob: They kicked me out.

Lucy: Why?

Mr. Bob: Because they don't like me.

Lucy: Well, why would they not like you.

Mr. Bob: I don't know.

After 15 minutes of conversation we figure out there is much more to the story than what we are being told so Lucy takes off to the side of the building while I continue talking to Mr. Bob to keep him distracted and get more clues. She calls the hospital across the street for more information and gets the real story. He was discharged because he refused treatment. This turns out to be a psych call. Because he has some existing medical issues, I decide after checking him out, he should go to county and not with the local psych services.

Me: Well Mr. Bob we are going to take you to another hospital. Is that okay with you?

Mr Bob: Okay. As long as it is not County. I don't like county and I don't want to go there.

He started getting all agitated, ranting and raving about county hospital. Oh crap. We can't take him to anywhere else other than county. Then I take a chance and tell an itty bitty white lie after I calm him down.

Me: Okay, Mr. Bob. We will take you to XY hospital instead of county hospital. Is that okay with you?

Mr Bob: Okay.

I get up and hustle around the corner and warn Lucy to what I have just done. XY hospital is the actual name of county hospital. I told her what Mr. Bob said and to not say county around him at all or he will go nuts and refuse to go. We can't blow our only chance to get him off the streets.

After some more calls and getting things set up we call up a rescue unit to come transport him to county. We are a specialty unit and because of his medical and mental issues we are not allowed to transport him. When the guys show up I pull them aside and quickly give them the warning about not saying the word county and that he may freak out in the ambulance when they get to the hospital if he recognizes it. They looked confused but didn't question it, just got Mr. Bob loaded up and said see ya there. The guys were awesome and could have grumbled about the problem we were dumping on them but didn't.

County hospital is across town from where we were and on the way we were taking bets on if he would freak out or not. Surprisingly enough when we pulled up the paramedics already had him inside and Mr. Bob was sitting there happy as a clam. I talked to him some more and asked him to promise me to do what the nurses told him to do. After some grumbling he promised me to behave and do what he was told.

We spent quite a while there with paperwork, talking with the nurses, and setting up things with social services. I hope Mr. Bob behaved and got the care he needed.

As much as I love the job there are times I wish I could follow through and other times I am glad we are finished and off to other calls...

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Knock! Knock! Remember Me????

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Hello all.

Remember Me????

Nutty Blogger girl that was blogging and then disappeared suddenly a month or so back?

Well I have gotten the chance to join the blogging world and post something again starting with the ridiculous things that I have come across lately.

My birthday is right around the corner and what do I find in the mail. An AARP membership letter. I may be getting older but NOT that much older! Geeze guys, give a girl a break.

A couple of days later I get an invitation to an open house of a planned retirement community for seniors. Awww come on now. Somebody's really messin' with me now........

Example: NOT MINE!!!!!

A social security letter comes in the mail with a statement of what I will get if I retire at so-so age, this much at so-so age, and so on. Thanks guys. Like you are really going to be around when I am able to cash in on it.

I am getting ready for work and after brushing my hair I clean out my brush. I find several strands of grey hairs which is another reminder of I AM GETTING OLDER!!!!!!!

I'm not ready to get older~~~~~!!!!!!

Hope you all have a great day.