Not My Emergency

When I was a kid, learnin to crawl and walk and shit, still a baby, my parents noticed something off about my head shape. So they took me to the doctor.

Turns out I was fucking up my skull formation plates by sleeping on one side of my head constantly which caused the plates to settle in a way they weren't supposed to be settling.

And the doctors baisically were like "On god bro we gonna fix this for you" and low and behold, a solution came.

A helmet. A thick, adjustable helmet that was meant to reshape my skull. I had to wear that bad boy for a while. It was white with purple butterflies on it cause they knew I liked purple and I liked butterflies.

However, there was a cost. And not a money kind. It was my parents sanity going and humor being cranked up.

Because instead of sitting around and being a baby and all that, I found a better use of the helmet.

I realised that it protected my head it gave me the best idea.

To hit my head on every fucking surface there was. It drove my family insane.

They would hear me bonking it on the tv stand, on the floor, on the table, my own high chair. I would even stand up and charge at visitors and my family's legs and just fucking ram into them and full baby speed. It was the most enjoyable pass time that made both me and my parents laugh their asses off.

However, one day at the doctors, they had finally deemed my head fixed and safe. And the helmet was gone (but we still got to keep it).

Now keep in mind that I had been going absolutely ham with this shield on my head for months. I had grown accustomed to it, as though it was a second part of me.

So after we come home from the doctors, we go into the living room and my parents let me and my twin play for a bit.

Soon came the need to bash my head against something.

So I got in position, ready to go. My parents saw it happening. They leapt up, ready to stop me. But they were not fast enough.

It all happened in slow motion. I slammed my head into the floor full force. Silence.

I lift my head. There are no tears or wails. Only confusion. I blinked. Still nothing. I was silent for the rest of the day, coming to terms with the fact that I lost my invincibility.

Never again did I bash my head or ram into people.

yeah, they can actually refuse transport (with the previously listed stipulations, being 18, of sound mind, etc.) up until the point that you on the way to the hospital. obviously they can’t refuse transport while en route, but they can refuse up until that point.

To refuse continued treatment once you’re en route, at least in most situations, medical control must approve.

In NM, if a patient refuses continued care en route, unless med control says otherwise, you drop their ass off at the er bay (outside) after you get the forms signed.

freeskywarp

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Colin Freeze, “Paramedics Face Suicidal Thoughts More Frequently Than Other Emergency Responders, Study Finds”. The Globe and Mail (20 February 2018).

Link to the original study:  Suicidal ideation, plans, and attempts among public safety personnel in Canada (8 February 2018).

Mercury embolism to the lung A 21-year-old dental assistant attempted suicide by injecting 10 ml (135 g) of elemental mercury intravenously. She presented to the emergency room with tachypnea, a dry cough, and bloody sputum. A chest radiograph showed that the mercury was distributed in the lungs in a vascular pattern.

Courtesy by Dr. patta Radhakirshana

I know this was probably meant to evoke a reaction such as this, but fuck it, I don’t care

Look at the body of a 10 year old child you couldn’t save. Is that radical enough?

Tell a woman who’s been married for 60 years her husband is dead and listen to her cry that she doesn’t understand. Is that radical enough?

Patch the bullet holes in an 18-year old gang banger. Radical enough?

See the result of a drunk driver who killed 3 people but doesn’t have a scratch. Radical enough?

Listen to the wails and cries of family when they find out their loved one is dead.

Respond to all the burns, gunshots, stabbings, domestic violence, cardiac arrests, suicides, attempted suicides, people who are choking on their own fluids who can’t breath and are TRYING to speak so that they can plead with you to save them. You tell me if that’s radical enough. 

We all see terrible things. We all deal with it different ways. We all have THAT call, the one we can’t forget about. And we have THOSE calls, that go away but still come up every once in a while. 

It’s not a matter of believing. PTSD in EMS providers is very, VERY real, and less well known than it should be.