fire

Had an arson fire on Wednesday night. Started off as a trailer fire just up the road. We got there quick and being the kindly senior guy that I am, I let the new guy take the nozzle. The fire had started on the porch and, despite the superior construction that mobile homes are known for, the fire quickly spread to the living room, kitchen and bedroom. Just before getting to work knocking down the fire, the new realizes he has no radio. Love those sweet little new guys. I decided maybe this new guy wasn't worth waiting for, so I told the Capt it was time to get to work, let the new guy follow up. Knocking down the fire was a little anticlimactic (a garden hose would put the hurt on most trailer fires), but a fire is a fire all the same. Turned out to be a good night.

Oooops!!

Sometimes there are days when you should just stay in bed. Sometimes those days are nights, kinda like last night. Unlike the picture, I wasn't totally without clothing.

I suppose the time was about 2:30 in the very a.m. Tones went off for something, I wasn't sure what at the time. We both staggered out into the bays and into the truck.

"Dude." The hoarse voice of my partner.

"What?" Still not sure what I'm doing up at such an ungodly hour.

"Dude!!" Looking at me very oddly.

It was then that I realized that I had pulled on my boots and walked out to the truck in my T-Shirt, underwear and boots...

So there I sit, no pants, ready to spring into action and save lives, or whatever it was that we were being called for.

That sort of thing tends to wake you up rather quickly. I piled out of the truck and ran back to my bunk, again in my undies and black combat boots. Not a pleasant image I'm sure. I returned again and went to work.

Over Haul

The understatement for the day is that our vehicle maintenance program is lacking. It's always a crap shoot when you mention something that is wrong with a vehicle. You are either ignored, told it's supposed to be that way, or your vehicle disappears for a while. Some of you may say that that's how it works. I'll add also that your vehicle comes back with no mention of what has been done, if anything. A good portion of the time the problem will persist. We have actually ruined motors and blown transmissions in the middle of a transport because things weren't repaired properly. This time is no different.

The exhaust on the ambulance I've been working on was installed poorly and the custom work done by our "mechanic" made it worse. Every time we pull up to a curb, the exhaust is bent back so that it rubs on the rear tires. Don't pull so close was the mechanics "fix" for this problem. Kick the crap out of it so it doesn't sit on the tire was our fix.

On the day in question, we were turning around in a parking lot. A curb lay in front of us. This obstacle to our progress later measured out to be a mere 2" tall. It may as well have been a foot.

We stopped short of the curb and had a brief conversation that went something like:

"You think we can get over that?"

"I would hope so."

"Yeah...It really is just a baby curb."

"Guess we'll find out."

We proceeded with the understanding that if a four year old could ride her bike over this thing (a girl on a bike skirted around us as we pondered), a $250,000 piece of fire equipment would have no problem. It wasn't a firm faith that we were operating under, but more like a defiant "It had better make it."

Just before we began to roll the phone rang. Some of the superstitious types may call this an omen, a sign, a harbinger, a prophecy. I just answered the phone, my driver kept driving. I was busy explaining to my Captain why lunch would be late when the truck lurched to a stop.

The words "Please hold," or "Hang on a second," never crossed my mind. The captain got a distorted version of "Uhhhhh..."

We looked at each other with that "Did that really just happen?" look and almost simultaneously piled out of our respective doors.

The exhaust, which had previous protruded from in front of the rear tire appeared absent. Further inspection showed, however, that it had been forced back by our "baby curb" until the rear tires had forced it under them and sucked it rearward. It was now wedged between the two tires. We were stuck. Driving forward would rip the piping out from under the truck. Backing up would ram the system back into the belly of the beast, also a bad option.

The captain actually remained on the line for our entire assessment, and patiently at that.

"We need your help," was all that I could muster. I told him we'd need the Sawz-All and a pry bar. Both are standard issue on the trucks, but things weren't really processing at the moment.

After being chewed out for not providing their meal on time, they said they were on their way. We sat in the parking lot, blocking several cars' escapes as we waited.

We cut the pipe off, tossed it up on the gurney like some mangled, petrified snake, and drove towards the shop. The disgrace was not, however, over. A shower of sparks poured out from the underside of our misfortuned conveyance. All the while drawing the attention of well meaning citizens waving and signaling at our dislodged muffler.

"Just smile and wave boys." The only sentiment that came to mind.

Field Trip

I spent the morning getting my butt dragged over hill and dale by a friend of mine. The quarry...shed deer antlers. We found two, well, Eli found two. The trip was for me nothing more than exercise. That's not true. It was a good time with good company. Saw a lot of deer and a coyote.

Love School

"Back to school, back to school, to prove to dad that I'm not a fool..." I didn't like school the first four years and I'm pretty sure nothing has changed since. I have four months of school left plus an internship and then I'm done. That is, of course, until the boss tells me to go back.

The wife will be upset for my not getting my chores done before playing, but I remembered a great story that just had to be shared.

We get called to a clinic to assist in lifting someone off the floor. This isn't an unusual call for us. We frequent a lot of nursing homes to help the elderly back into beds or their wheelchairs. We didn't have any reason to think this was any different. That was until we opened the door.

On the floor of the men's room was 625 lbs. of back injury waiting to happen. This gentleman had found his way between the toilet and the wall. For reasons unknown to me, this is a common place for people to get lodged. His pants (tent) were around his ankles. Again, the usual place for people in his situation. The concept of emergency medicine goes right out the window when something like this presents itself. We are no longer firefighters and paramedics, but rather all turn into a collective mind of contortionists, engineers, plumbers, and magicians passing ideas around the group like mashed potatoes around the dinner table.

We break from our huddle and take our respective positions. Strategically placing one on the toilet, two at the feet and a floater to make sure we don't break and arm (the patients--we aren't afforded such courtesy) or pull a chuck of flesh off.

With a good coordinated attack and a little KY, our patient is pulled free. A job well done, right? Wrong. Somehow our task morphs into us following the patient home and helping him up the stairs and onto a couch.

Across town we engineer a new battle plan. Two above pulling and two below pushing get the job done. Home we go to choke down a few Motrin and a Pepsi.

You all thought that was the story. Guess again!! That was just the intro. Here we go.

Last day of the set. Always a good feeling to know that in less than 24 hours you can disappear for 4 days and no one need know where you are or when you'll return, except the wife of course.

We are called to a patient with difficulty breathing a few blocks away. Ambulance goes, engine stays.

The smell is something that very few will ever experience and describing it does it no justice. Infection, urine and filth all rolled into a foul and potent stogie.

As we come up the stairs, we see the kids running back and forth in the living room. It isn't until we reach the top of the stairs that we realize what or who it is that they are jumping/sliding on. It's our patient from earlier in the week lying face down on the floor, unable to move.

We ask him if he's injured and how he got where he is. The story is that he slid off the couch the day we put him there and hasn't moved since. This is where I asked myself, "What the ****!!?" He tells us he slid down and was sitting reclining for about a day. His leg fell asleep so he tried to reposition and rolled onto his face, where he remained for 3 more days.

Don't worry though, he wasn't alone. He spent these 3 days face down on the floor of his BROTHER'S HOUSE!!!!! His trash brother had brought him food and a mug to drink water out of while he lay unable to move on his floor. It wasn't until his own crushing weight made it difficult for him to breath that he asked his brother to bring him a phone and he called 911 himself.

We were able to roll him over to ease his breathing, but that's when things got real tough. He couldn't hold himself up, so we put a sheet under his armpits and held him in a sitting position. The source of the stench became morbidly apparent after we rolled him over and watched the maggots crawl over his gangrenous leg. You see, his weight had led to the lack of circulation in his leg and that along with his own excrement had sped the process of decay.

There was no way we'd get him out as just the two of us, so we called the engine. Once they arrived, we rolled him onto a tarp and dragged him out like an elk that had fallen into a tight spot. We eased him down the stairs, infection and urine pooling on the tarp in front of our faces. The entire time we were working, the captain, having exercised his right as most senior and highest ranking individual, waited outside.

To wrap things up, we got him to the hospital where he lost his leg and nearly 100 lbs of adipose tissue that had rotted. We also informed child protective services of the conditions those children were living in.

Guinea Pig

Ayden volunteered to come to school with me today. By volunteer I mean I didn't have to drag him down the hall kicking and screaming.

My first class on Mondays is a scenario based class teaching field diagnosis and treatment. Ayden was playing the part of a toddler that had gotten into a bottle of bleach. He was a natural at playing the toddler part and by the time the last group came through he was coughing rather violently and telling them his tummy hurt. He's a natural!

He totally stole the show, which is par for the course with this little man.