EMS and Hunger

“Rescue 1, Respond with Engine 12 to 167 Smith Street for a person choking.”

“Rescue 1, Responding.”

“Excellent,” I said to John, my partner for the day. He looked me out of the corner of his eye, pressed the button for the lights and flipped the switch that turned on the sirens.

“It’s perfect,” he agreed.

High Noon. A person choking on the other side of the city. Engine 12 would beat us there by seven minutes. They would have either saved the victim, the victim would have saved herself, or it would be too late to do anything.

“We might actually be able to eat lunch before dinner time,” I said to John.

“Great. I’m starving.”

“Rescue 1 and Engine 12, we now have a report that that person is having a seizure.”

Choking and a seizure. Considering Providence is the pseudo-seizure capitol of the world, this news, though troubling was no cause for real alarm. The rescue can only go so fast, and Engine 12 should be on scene any second.

“Quick scoop, some vitals, glucose check…we’ll be done in fifteen minutes.”

“Nobody will miss us if we disappear to the cafeteria.”

“I love it when a plan comes together!”

“Engine 12 to Rescue 1,  bring a board and collar.”

“Rescue 1, received.”

We were one minute out.

“Board and collar. She must have fallen. Probably nothing. Half an hour, we’ll be done.”

“I think I’ll get the Brick Oven Pizza. It’s Wendsday, right?”

“Right.”

“Engine 12 to Rescue 1, step it up, pt. is unconscious with a head injury.”

“Rescue 1, received, on scene.”

Sometimes lunch just has to wait. Six runs later, we had some leftover Chinese. It was 5:30 when things slowed down long enough to grab a bite.

(The patient suffered a 1″ laceration to the back of her head following some seizure activity which caused her to fall backwards in her chair and hit her head on the floor. Providence is also the Real Seizure Capitol of the World)

1 Comment

  • RI Transplant says:

    I’m a “civilian” and I’ve been the first aider for two actual seizures, both in Providence; both “victims” decided to try and go without their medication, one to the great distress of her dinner company (first date).
    At least the restaurant managers/owners “comped” me both times, and MY dates were impressed.

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