A VIEW WITH A MEMORY OF AMBULANCE DAYS

I was on Dial-a-Ride duty today and I drove one of my favourite passengers for his weekly hospital consultancy/appointment.  We arrived a little early to drop Don at the hospital and there was just time to show him one of my favourite views, overlooking the Avon Valley, just outside Bath. It was a lovely afternoon.  The River Avon runs along the valley, just out of site and so does a busy railway line and main road.

As we sat for a while talking and enjoying the view memories came flooding back into my mind of sharing this with someone else during my ambulance days.

I had just picked up an elderly lady from one of the hospitals in Bath to transfer her to another hospital in Bristol for treatment.  She was very distressed and not well at all but I could manage to transfer her from her wheelchair into a seat.  She was very anxious about her health and well-being and was very depressed and almost in tears.  

We got talking and I was able to make a connection and she told me the bottom had dropped out of her life, she had lost her husband a few years ago, her children saw her very infrequently and now her health was failing.  She had almost convinced herself that there was nothing left to live for.

She cheered up a little while we talked as I drove and I said because it was such a glorious day we would take the scenic route to Bristol.  I said I had time to show her a view which I liked very much and we pulled over and I lined the vehicle so she could see through the door. I remember it was a warm summer's day and I sat with her and said, "Just look at that! ~ you see, there are still a lot of good things left to enjoy!".

Her face lit up and she smiled and told me I was so kind and said she was so happy to share our conversation and the view.  We stayed there for a full 15 minutes and I said that the view is lovely all the way along the valley.

When we pulled into the Bristol hospital she seemed like a different person.  Her mind was taken off her troubles and at least she had found something to cheer her, albeit just for the afternoon.

This is why I loved the ambulance work so much, to touch someone, make a connection, and make them happier and how long did it take?  ~ just 15 minutes.

I don't know what happened to this lady, maybe she has moved on by now, but I often think about instances of magic like this, and many others.

The icing on the cake today for me was that while I was waiting for Don, I met some of my ex Ambulance Colleagues and it was great to chat with them over old times.  There may be a possibility of me working again in the service in a smaller capacity ~ I would love this.

I'M HOME AND NOT LEGGLESS

Hi Friends, 

This afternoon I was discharged from hospital, albeit in my view a little early but they have stabilised my condition and the fever has subsided and I am back onto oral antibiotics.  The swelling has reduced greatly.   My left leg was three times the size of my right one and now it is just 1.5 times  . . .  and falling.

The ulcer, still nasty but much drier, can now be treated by District Nurses and I shall be visited by one tomorrow for a dressing and compression bandages . . and we can work out a plan of action to get rid of this nasty thing.  

They will probably be known to me from the days they visited Maria when she required their attention . . . They all like my cups of tea and coffee . . 

I have a few interesting posts about the hospital stay and how a number of nurses remembered me from my ambulance days . . .  

I came home by ambulance and one of the crew was a great chap I worked with . . . lots of co-incidences . . and some great fun . . plus some painful days . . 

HOSPITAL STAY

UPDATE  2 April

It has taken me ages to get into the hospital Wi-Fi.

Thank you for all your very kind comments.  This is my second day here and the swelling has not reduced yet, although the antibiotics seem to be taking the heat out of my leg, which is good.  Before I came in I had an ultrasound DVT scan, which proved negative, but a consultant has just seen me and says he wants another done because he wants to get to the bottom of why the swelling is there, which is causing all the problems.  He seemed quite impressed that I had suggested to my GP the problem might be a DVT and that I had reported that the arterial supply seemed ok.  Indeed this was confirmed a little later when a doctor did an in house arterial ultrasound on both legs and the blood supply to both feet is very good. We await the venial ultrasound and then they can start powerful compression bandaging to get rid of the fluid ~ and that will enable the ulcer to heal.

I have just seen some nurses who remember me from my ambulance days . . . . had a nice chat with them . . . :)

I'll do another post soon.

______________________________________

Hi friends,

Just a short note to say that today I shall be admitted to hospital in Bristol for about a week.

Some of you will know I have been experiencing problems with a leg nasty leg ulcer since December and have been fighting a gradual losing battle.

It has accelerated in sheer horridness and I have a very large swelling in my left calf ~ it is very painful.

The oral antibiotics are not touching it and I need some powerful intravenous antibiotics, which I am hoping and praying will work.

I am taking my laptop to hospital and will be writing some short stories and I shall let you know how I am getting on. 

It will seem rather strange for me to receive some care for a change.   

. . . . . :) 

AMBULANCE STORY ~ WHERE DO YOU LIVE, LOVE, I CANNOT FIND YOUR HOME?

During my ambulance days I often drove a 'Pope Mobile'. This vehicle was ideal for the job of ferrying patients to and from hospital for kidney dialysis, particularly if they were seated in a wheelchair.  All my patients got to know me well and some of them had a sharp sense of humour to match mine.  I used to take my bit of double glazing Georgian Bar with me, since I am an agent for a local window company.  I sometimes held it up to them as they were entering the Pope Mobile, saying "Bless you, my son/daughter".  It always got a laugh and brightened their day a little.  

It was a cold dark night in the middle of winter.  I was meeting an elderly lady patient for the first time so I was serious and I certainly did not use my little cross on that particular night.  She was frail and in a wheelchair and had just completed her dialysis ~ she had just started with dialysis and was nervous and had recently moved from her own home into a nursing home, always a sad occasion for them.  Sometimes a patient's blood pressure drops after dialysis and that causes them to feel unwell, so she was feeling a little like that and I was trying to get her home and into the warmth as quickly as possible.  I knew the nursing home was nearby but it was brand new and I did not know exactly where it was located, apart from the general area.  The whole complex was newly built and not on any map, and certainly not on my SatNav. 

We approached where I thought it might be and I asked her if she recognised where it was and which way to go.  She said, "We are going in the wrong direction I think, if we turn round and travel the other way I might recognise where we are".   I turned round and we journeyed the other way and she said, "It's too dark and I can't see properly."  Stress was beginning to rear its ugly head and I saw a group of youths by some shops so I parked the vehicle and asked them if they knew where it was, but got the response, "Don't know, gov, try the cop shop up the road!"  I was taking a bit of a chance walking over to them because this area is the roughest in Bristol and people are mugged there quite frequently.  There were six of them and I would not have stood a chance.

I reached the police station and explained the situation and the policeman was quite concerned I had ventured out alone to see that group of 'yobbos', as he described them, saying they had loads of problems with their behaviour. I guess I must have been lucky that night.  He said he knew exactly where the nursing home was and said, "I'll take you, I'll hop into the police car and follow me".  I did, we got there and I thanked him and shook his hand.  I thought that was very decent of him.  It was very near where we had been looking but was hidden behind some wrought iron gates.  I got the lady inside and out of the cold and handed her over to her carer, feeling very relieved she was home safely and without incident.

We have had several instances of not knowing where to deliver patients ~ perhaps I shall tell you some of those stories soon.

AMBULANCE STORY ~ PLEASE COME AND SEE ME AGAIN

Here I am with Charlie, circa 2008.  We sometimes worked together, sharing driving and attending duties.

This particular day I was attending, which means sitting with the patient and making sure they are ok during the journey, making sure they are at ease and talking with them and sometimes introducing a little humour now and then, or just listening to them, often pouring out their tales of woe.  We were prepared for anything, literally . . . . . but this day surprised me greatly and was totally unexpected.

We arrived with a stretcher to pick up a lady patient to transfer her by ambulance to another hospital 25 miles away, a slow 45 minute journey, because this lady had a back problem and was in a lot of pain. She was due for surgery to replace four worn out discs in her spine.  Quite a dangerous procedure ~ and one incidentally my sister-in-law will undergo next year.

**************

I saw her pretty face, attractive and smiling; marred somewhat by lines of pain, yet still framing her bright, lively green eyes and long dark raven hair.  I suppose she must have been in her mid forties and she was lying on her front, since this was the only position seeming to offer her any comfort.  Her face showed pain, anguish and worry about the surgical ordeal she was soon to face and at once I felt a surge of empathy and sympathy for her.  I started reassuring her straight away that we would make sure she got as pain free a ride as we could possibly give her, and made her laugh when I said she would have to put up with me for 45 minutes or so while Charlie drove us. 

I cannot remember this lady's name now, but on that day her voice and laugh seemed very musical and I could see she really did have a cheerful disposition, currently buried beneath her painful circumstances.  We seemed to make a connection straight away ~ you know, sometimes we can meet a perfect stranger and immediately feel at ease with them, talk with them freely and effortlessly, and genuinely like them ~ I am sure we have all felt this at times.  On this day it seemed to work both ways for us.

Charlie and I managed to transfer her to the stretcher with a few instances of pain unfortunately, but settled her on the stretcher again and wheeled her to the ambulance, still lying face down. She was looking at me with those big green eyes all the way as we talked.  I sat with her for the journey and immediately we developed a kind of bridge of understanding and after several minutes I managed not only to reassure her that I had heard about many successful surgical procedures like she would have, but also I made her laugh ~ boy did I make her laugh. It was such a delight to see her laugh like that and sometimes I had to apologise when she actually belly laughed and I could see this hurt her back a few times.  She just dismissed that with a wave of the hand, preferring to enjoy the humour.  She said she had not laughed like that for many years, and quite frankly I had not heard anyone laugh like that for a very long time. I was just telling her some funny stories and experiences I had in my job and how we 'took the Mick' out of each other sometimes. Charlie, driving at the front, told me later she was highly amused.

Then, at a stroke, her eyes filled with tears when she told me how worried she was about the forthcoming surgery and her fear that things might go wrong, and would she ever be the same again and lead a normal life.  I took her hand and asked her if she would mind if I prayed for her and her face lit up and she really welcomed it, so I did.  She said I was so understanding and approachable and took and held my hand and squeezed it several times, and thanked me for my kindness.  It was a pleasure of course and I thoroughly enjoyed my job and trying to help people.

It turned out that our daughters had the same name and were the same age, although I had a son as well.  She told me where she worked, at a doctor's practice as a receptionist in the town we were headed and she hoped to be able to resume work there some day.  I said I knew the town very well and she actually told me the road she lived, and I knew it well.

It is very strange that the ambulance job did sometimes offer opportunities to really get to know people quickly and occasionally the intensity of the situation did affect emotions in quite a powerful way.

We arrived at the hospital, and transferred her to her new bed.  It was then she turned to me and said, "Please come and see me ~ I shouldn't really be saying this, but I think I have fallen for you and it would be so sad if I never saw you again!" I was so flattered ~ she was so nice and was extremely attractive, and I must admit it did my ego no harm to hear that, whatsoever. She knew I was happily married so there was no question of anything between us.  On my way out I looked back and saw she had managed to turn round and wave to me and I noticed a tear flow from one eye but did not know whether this was a tear of pain, or a tear for me. 

To this day I still don't know why she said that to me, or what caused her to say it.  Maybe she saw a temporary relief from her plight, which clouded her judgement . .  . who knows? . . . . maybe it was the uniform . . . . :)

I did go and see her again, a few times when I was in the area, because I wanted to see if she was alright after surgery. She had her operation ok, which was a complete success.  She was transferred back to Bristol for convalescence and I saw her again during my job, transferring another patient to that hospital. It was then I said goodbye and wished her well. I have often wondered how she is and whether she managed to get back to work, whether she is happy and enjoying life ~ we often wonder these things when our job with patients is over.

Well ladies, you can put your box of tissues away now . . .  I am afraid I cannot promise you another story like that one.
Aw . . . lol


Next week ~ how a blind man was able to direct me to his home, 30 miles away, from being strapped in a wheelchair in the back of a vehicle ~ quite unbelievable, but true.

AMBULANCE STORY ~ WE LOST DEAR JOHN

I like to post an ambulance story from time to time ~ I have done a number of these over the years and have a lot untold. I loved my work before I retired from the service over 5 years ago.  Principally I was involved with Patient Transfer duties, taking dialysis patients to and from hospital three times a week for a four hourly session on a dialysis machine, the only thing keeping them alive as their kidneys were no longer functioning.  

Also, I worked as a two man crew, or should I say two person crew because I worked with lady personnel sometimes.  This work sometimes involved driving and sometimes attending stretcher patients, sometimes carry chair transfer or wheelchair or just helping them into the ambulance.  When I started I quickly learned to relate to patients and to make them feel at ease, to amuse them, make them laugh, be sympathetic when required, and do whatever to make them more comfortable.  I remember on day one of my employment a senior paramedic was flabbergasted at my ability to talk to patients, remarking that he knew qualified paramedics who were not able to do that.

I got to know John very well and for three years I ferried him to and fro to hospital for dialysis.  He was the nicest elderly man one could ever wish to meet ~ he was always cheerful and never complained and always thanked me for the journey.  It was really a pleasure attending him. He had difficulty walking, so the nurses and I always transferred him into his wheelchair which I wheeled up the ambulance ramp, securing it to the floor mountings before we set off.  He shared the long journey with 5 other patients living over a wide area to the south of Bristol. The journey was often very picturesque during warm summer evenings when the sun was beginning to set set over the sea ~ try to imagine just how beautiful that was. We could see for miles and miles and we could just make out the Welsh coast 12 miles away across the shimmering sea, looking across the Severn Estuary ~ a delightful sight, punctuated by rays of light coming out of fluffy white clouds against the commanding backdrop of an angry red sky.

One day I was shocked to learn from a colleague, who drives emergency vehicles that John had had a bad fall at home one night and had to be rushed to hospital as an emergency. Sandy was on duty and was shocked to see it was John. She would have been driving on blues, weaving in and out of the traffic with blue lights flashing and siren, when required.  She knew John very well too and she and her colleague got him safely to Accident and Emergency, but we learned later that John had sustained a fractured hip.

During the course of the week a colleague and I were assigned to transport John from a hospital in Bristol  to another hospital 25 miles away for surgery.  We arrived at his bedside and although he recognised Steve and I, we saw he was very distressed.  With the assistance of two very nice nurses the four of us managed to PAT slide him on a Patient Slide Board onto a stretcher and wheeled him into the ambulance.  

John was in agony and we tried our best to make his journey as smooth and pain free as we could, arriving at the hospital less than an hour later.  We wheeled him to the ward and with the help of two nurses PAT slid him into bed, which was much more state of the art than this illustration shows ~ higher and with safety sides, plus electrically controlled controlled moving mattress in various positions to assist patient comfort.  You can imagine the stretcher moved alongside at a greater height and the patient rolled with four of us at each corner moving him as gently as we could towards us, sliding the board under him and then rolling him back gently onto the board and sliding him onto the bed. Alas John was very distressed as we did this transfer, even though both his legs were strapped together using the good one as a brace to reduce movement of the injured one ~ but we had to do it.

We stayed a while talking to him and making sure he was all right and he seemed much more comfortable so we left him.

Next day we were sickened to hear that he had died during the night before they even had a chance to consider operating ~ apparently the severe shock of the fracture plus the subsequent stress had caused him to have a fatal heart attack so he did not have a chance although they tried hard to get him back.

A week later I called to see his wife to express my sincere condolences. She said he had slipped when trying to transfer from his wheelchair to his arm chair and had fallen awkwardly and thought she had heard the break.  She appreciated me calling, which was the least I could do because we had got to know each other very well over the years. 

We always miss a lost one although renal patients generally do not survive for much longer than five years.  It was always sad in such situations but in spite of the sadness sometimes I really do miss that job, which I loved.  I felt free, useful, and free to be able to help people, almost hourly.  Beside that I got a real buzz out of it.

Patient/ambulance person/ nursing staff relationships sometimes get quite close with the emotion of it all and occasionally sometimes rather unusual things happen, as I will tell you next week, when a lady patient, after just a 25 mile journey told me she had fallen in love with me  . . . . . . . 

. . . . . . now ladies, that pricked your ears up didn't it?  . . . .  but true . . . . be patient ~ you will have to wait for the story . . . . . . . . a whole week  . . . .  lol

I am honoured to receive a Post Of The Week award from Hilary at The Smitten Image ~ 27 February 2015

BLIZZARDS THREATEN VITAL AMBULANCE JOURNEY

It was a cold winter's day and overnight it had been snowing very hard and Bristol awoke under a thick blanket of snow.

Roads were deep in snow and driving was very difficult since the gritter lorries were caught completely unaware.  We knew it was going to be a very difficult day for our ambulance duties. I managed to drive to the station armed with a snow shovel and two 2 ft wide and 6 ft rolls of carpet so if we were to get stuck we could use the carpet to gain traction. I had used them before to good effect.

Mike and I were scheduled to drive an ambulance to Weston Super Mare General Hospital 25 miles away but collecting 6 patients situated in several small towns around our destination, which meant a 40 mile round trip to the renal dialysis unit.  These renal patients have to have this treatment three times a week to stay alive and to get them there was essential and we would do whatever it might take to do it.  The world of the renal patient cannot stop just for a bit of snow.  Normally I drove the journey myself but that day no-one went solo - an extra person was assigned to every job in case we ran into difficulties. 

We set off with me driving and we had loaded the carpet strips and shovel just in case.  The roads were very slippery but manageable.  However cars were sliding about all over the place and we hoped one would not crash into us because we did not want to be delayed because of the patients. 

Fortunately there was not an excessive number of vehicles on the road since a lot of people had stayed at home, wisely heeding warnings given by the met office over the local radio. Even so the roads were pretty congested. We managed to get onto the main Bristol road south and at first we made some headway.  Our progress was short-lived because as we rounded a bend we were alarmed to see an articulated lorry blocking the entire road in both directions - it must have just happened.  We stayed for a few minutes and could see the driver's efforts to reverse were futile.  There was no way round it so we had to backtrack all the way to Bristol.

Mike rang the police asking if they knew a way through but they said all routes were impassable.  I said to Mike. "Blow that! - I know a way!"

Clifton Suspension Bridge engineered by Isambard Kingdom Brunel, opened 1864 

The snow conditions were much worse than this picture shows but for illustration purposes the road we wanted was a little further back to the left and across the river to the left.  It runs up the hill not too steeply and climbs 200 feet to the road we wanted.   I figured if we could make that hill we stood a good chance of getting round that lorry the long way.  

Fortunately there was nothing on the road and we did not meet anyone so I charged at the hill and was relieved when we maintained traction but skidding a little here and there. We could see the top of the hill but horror of horrors, a tree had come down and was three quarters blocking it so I had to go onto the wrong side of the road so we could maintain our speed. Fortunately nothing came the other way but by this time we were slipping all over the place but we just. and only just,  made it and from then on it was much easier.  We cut through and made our first pick up and managed to get the others one by one, with several adventures along the way.  I got Mike to ring the renal unit to say we were on our way and by the time we picked up the last patient we were only half an hour late, and forty minutes late at the unit, which was totally manageable for the nursing staff.

We got them all inside and were treated to a nice hot cup of tea and biscuits by our friends, the nurses who we knew well.

The return journey was much easier and when we got back to the station, control was very relieved to see us although we informed them of events from time to time during the day. Several of our ambulances had gone off the road and had to be towed back onto it but everyone was safe and most of the journeys were completed to plan . . . but not on time, which was entirely understandable.

Although our adrenalin was flowing pretty quickly I thoroughly enjoyed that day and felt a sense of achievement.

THE LOST AMBULANCE KEYS

Welcome to another story by Eddie, the eccentric ex-ambulance man.


"OMG", I said, "where are the keys?  I can't get into my ambulance, and this guy needs oxygen!"

Earlier, I had collected six renal patients and taken them to a General Hospital, near the sea for Renal Dialysis.  The idea was to wait four hours and then pick them up again, take the local ones home first and then those further afield.  

This vehicle we affectionately nicknamed "The Sunshine Bus" and I remember seeing the milometer clock through 100,000 miles on that inward journey. 

The delightful backdrop was my last port of call, a nursing home, where I collected "Tom" on our way to the Renal Unit. We did this three times a week.  Tom was a little backward and I gave him a job to do on the way in, to lookout for speed cameras, which he always remembered, and warned me about.  Dear Tom, I think I heard recently he has a new kidney transplant now, which is marvellous.

When I had finished delivering Tom, the last patient I received a call from 'control' to ask if I would go to the general departure lounge and take a gentleman in a wheelchair home. 

When I arrived I found the gentleman and noticed he was on oxygen which was no problem for me since I had all the equipment on board.  He said he could manage for a few minutes without oxygen while I pushed him in his wheelchair and fixed him up with oxygen in the ambulance. 

While I was doing something else a nurse transferred him from a chair to the wheelchair and I said goodbye and proceeded quickly to the ambulance.  

When I arrived I looked through my pockets for the keys, only to discover they were not there . . . . I searched again and to my horror they still were not there.  I said to the old boy I must have left my keys in the departure lounge and headed back and we quickly got him hooked up with oxygen again.  

I explained about the keys and looked everywhere retracing my steps and became concerned that I would not be able to get the six renal patients home.  I tried lost property, the reception desk - everywhere. 

I reported the matter to control, 25 miles away, who said they had found a spare key and the only person who could bring it down was the managing director - oh dear.

It was then a magical picture appeared in my head.  The patient must be sitting on the keys in the wheelchair - it was the only pace they could be.  I got back to the departure lounge and got the patient to stand up . . . . . .  and there they were staring at me on the seat!!  What a relief.

So I was able to stop the MD coming dawn, get the elderly man home with oxygen, and then all the patients home safely.

The nurses were quite amused in the renal unit when I told them.

I must have subconsciously put the keys down whilst attending to something else and meanwhile the nurse sat the patient down onto the keys . . . . . 

That is something I made sure never happened again.

FRIENDLY RIVALRY

I am writing these ambulance stories as they occur to me.

I worked for a private ambulance company called Wings, based in Bristol.  We had a great bunch of people working there.  Some were fairly quiet, some a little more extrovert and some were an absolute riot.  I suppose I fitted somewhere in the middle, but this chap took the biscuit:

Mad Mike - he was fabulous fun, as you may imagine and we had such a great times with him, yet he could be serious as well.  The unifying factor was patient care and dedication to the job and we all had that.  But Mike was so lively he was enough to brighten any dreary day - and he always did.

Here is another photo of him, full of fun:

I took the photo of the the three of them for the company magazine.  I always took the photographs.  On this occasion the three of them were just back from an intensive 5-day ambulance driving course in Cornwall and passed their Drive 2 exam, which meant they were now qualified to drive ambulances for emergency calls, using blue flashing lights and sirens.  Well done you three.

They were great friends, Phil, about 26 and an ex-paratrooper from an elite army regiment, Charlie, a lovely girl and, Mike, about 40's.

I was about 20 years older than Mike but very fit in my ambulance days and could keep up with any of them:

Here is one of me with Charlie:

We were all good friends at Wings and I suppose there must have been over 30 ambulance staff, comprising both sexes - one big happy family.  We were all so sad when it disbanded.

One day we were lifting some heavy gear and Phil and Mike were quite surprised to see me managing so well and remarked that they were a bit surprised I could do it so easily.

I laughed and said, "They don't make 'em like they used to", and challenged them right there and then to an arm wrestling contest.  The just laughed and said, "You must be joking - you stand no chance - ok show us!"

Off we went and found a desk and I said to Mike, "You first!"

He said, "Are you sure? you stand no chance - I'll pulverise you!" , because he was about 20 tears younger, you see.

I said, "We'll see!"

Anyway we started left hand first and I saw him wince after a minute and start really straining and then over went his arm. Same using the right arm - he stood no chance and they both were flabbergasted and we all started laughing.

Then it was Phil's turn, remembering he was 26 and an ex paratrooper and I was 60.  I said, "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"  He was in hysterics and then we settled down to some serious arm wrestling.

Well I did not beat him with either arm . . .  but he did not beat me either . . . . it was stalemate!!  

They were both so stunned - bet I couldn't do it now!

Oh what fun we had.

I have often wondered what happened to these guys - I see some of the others from time to time and we always give one another a big hug when we meet.

It was all great fun and a privilege to serve in the Ambulance Service and boy, don't I miss it.

A TALE OF JACK - AMBULANCE STORY

Alas, Jack is no longer with us - I heard he passed away two years ago.  He was a much loved patient during my days with the Ambulance Service - everyone liked him. 

Jack was a double amputee and a renal patient.  He lost both legs to Type 1 Diabetes a number of years ago, and then both kidneys failed, and he almost died.  Fortunately he recovered but he had to have four hours of kidney dialysis three times a week for the rest of his life.  He was considered too old for a transplant and our private ambulance company had the contract to take him  to and return him from the renal unit three times a week.  He lived 40 miles away and so it was something of a day out for him and he looked forward our company.  He loved being with us and chatting and telling and hearing jokes.  He really did have a great sense of humour.

In spite of his disability he was the life and soul of the party and put aside all the hurt and disappointment of his failing health.  His wife was a lovely lady, of similar disposition, and often gave us a piece of cake and a cup of tea before we wheeled Jack to our vehicle, often a Pope-Mobile like one of these. 

We wheeled him up the ramp and secured the wheelchair with fittings, which incorporated a seat belt.

Sometimes we arrived in a large ambulance and he pretended to get all excited and say, "Can we drive on sirens and blues and watch them all get out of the way?"

"Sorry Jack - it's not an emergency!"

"Oh! you spoil sport!", he would say, and clutched his chest in jest.

You had to watch Jack's keen sense of humour.  He loved playing tricks on us, particularly new ambulance personnel.  I remember the first day I met him I had him secured in the Pope-Mobile  and was about to drive away when he said, "Sorry! I have forgotten something!".  I stopped and said, "Ok Jack . .  What is it? . . . I'll pop back to get it for you!"

He said, his face deadpan, "My slippers!" 

I said, "OK", and was just about to leave the vehicle and I heard him laugh and then it dawned on me! . . . and we both laughed and he said, "Slippers! I get you chaps every time with that one!"

On the way he saw a pub and said, "I wish I was in there, I'd soon get legless!" . . . or engineer another situation where he would say he did not have a keg to stand on.

It seems a bit macabre for him to say things like that, but it was his way of dealing with the situation.  Yet underneath it all I knew he was sad, and so were we.  

He used to like being driven along by all the attractive young ambulance ladies and when I arrived sometimes he would say, "How disappointing, I was hoping it would be Michelle or Natasha or whoever!"
Well I wonder, can you blame him?

  Then he would say,  "It's ok Eddie - you can tell me some jokes instead!"



I said, "Now listen Jack, I am driving the Pope -Mobile, so I have got just one thing to say to you!"

"What's that, Eddie?"

Holding aloft my piece of double glazing

"Bless you, my son!"  

Eddie with his bit of double glazing which got a few laughs


Boy did he laugh.

Yes, Jack was quite a character and is sadly missed but I expect he is making someone laugh up there in the blue yonder.  He just made the best out of life and we all admired him for it.


There are quite a number of patients we got really close to - you just can't help it in that job, and it was almost heartbreaking when they died as they invariably did after a few years with failed kidneys - even with dialysis.



I'll write a few more ambulance stories from time to time.  I just need to jog my memory first.  I will put my thinking hat on.

(In the interests of confidentiality Jack was not his real name - neither do I use real names in my stories, except mine!!)

WE ALWAYS TRIED TO GO THE EXTRA MILE

I cannot reveal, or show, this lady patient in the wheelchair, but let's call her Doris. She was loved by all the ambulance crews.

 Sadly Doris is no longer with us. She was one of my favourite patients, amongst many, and I collected her from a nursing home three times a week to take to a nearby hospital for kidney dialysis.  Doris was wheelchair bound but could be transferred to a seat with some assistance.  

She was one of 6 patients I transferred three times a week and it became quite a social occasion for them, although obviously all of them would prefer to have normally functioning kidneys. 

After four hours on dialysis machines I took them all back home again, spending those four hours amusing myself at the seaside, sometimes enjoying the beautiful countryside and walking around my favourite lake. It was a great job! Wasn't I lucky to do this for two years before I went onto other duries.

I always took Doris home first, since she lived nearest to the hospital and at the nursing home they became quite fond of me; always offering me some cake and a cup of tea and staying for a chat and a joke.  

Must be the lad's charm, working!

Doris was a very likeable lady, always smiling and making the best if things - she was born and lived at the seaside town an longed to see more of the sea front, since there was no-one available to take her.  I made sure that was put right so I arrived 10 minutes early next day and treated her to a slow journey right across the entire sea front and back again,  She could see it perfectly from the ambulance and as an extra treat I drove onto the sands on a nearby beach so she could see  a grand view of the pier. Then we drove to the dialysis unit. 

She was so thrilled - it was almost as if I had given her £100.

I made sure I did this for her every time.

During that year at the sea front was constructed a big wheel which she admired and said she'd love to ride on it  I surprised her one day - I journeyed in my own car one Saturday and arrived at the nursing home and said I had a special treat for her - and took her for a ride on the big wheel.  She was so thrilled.

I made sure with the control desk that if anyone else stood in for me for those three days they would always remember to take Doris for her trip along the sea front.

It was always sad when a renal patient died - we went into a kind on mourning for a while.  Non of these patients survived very long because the dialysis machines are far inferior to our wonderful kidneys and they had only 12 hours a week to filter out all the impurities, whereas we have 168 hours week in week out. 


___________________________

More ambulance stories to follow

SILLY SATURDAY MORNING AT THE AMBULANCE STATION

I thought I had better post something new in case you might have thought I'd 'kicked the bucket'. 

Well, here I am, very much alive and well.

I expect most of you will remember I used to be an Ambulance Man, working for a private company in Bristol.  These were some of the happiest days of my life and I thoroughly enjoyed everything about the work I was privileged to do for 5 years - patient care, getting to know and love the patients, the driving, the buzz of driving vehicles like this Land Rover, working with all my colleagues, working with nurses and doctors, enjoying all the admiring glances of the public in general, waving to the ladies. I still miss the work but I do reminisce from time to time. Mostly, I drove patients to and from Kidney Dialysis Units for renal dialysis.  To keep alive patients needed this for 4 hours three times a week.

I drove this blue ambulance regularly. We called it The Sunshine Bus and here it is shown overlooking a beautiful reservoir which I called The Lake.  I used to walk round it during my lunch break and it inspired me to write poetry and stories while I was there. The scenery round there is stunning and on a summer's evening it was wonderful driving around watching the sunsets over the lake and the sea, nearby.

I worked also on other ambulances as a team with my friend Richard. This often involved stretcher work and carry chair lifting.  I enjoyed all the work immensely.

I first posted "Silly Saturday at the Ambulance Station" in April 2009 and thought I would re-post it to highlight the fun we used to have at the station - particularly one Saturday morning when our sometimes over developed sense of humour plus a surplus of testosterone almost caused things to go out of control.

This photograph shows all is quiet at the Ambulance Station - some vehicles have returned - but most are still out, some on their missions ferrying renal patients to and from hospital and renal units for dialysis, and some for longer hospital to hospital transfer of patients.

All appears perfectly normal, yet a few hours before one particular Saturday morning things were so different, for on that day we all went absolutely bananas:

 It was wonderful!

An ambulance was parked very badly blocking the exit of the station - someone wanted to get out. Five crews were ready to go - all vehicle checks were completed satisfactorily and we were free to 'go mobile' as the phrase says.

I was in a sixth vehicle driving the blue sunshine bus, without blue lights or sirens, and another colleague was driving just an ambulance car, acceptable for some jobs. We all were blocked in.

The driver in the offending vehicle suddenly became the recipient of a loud horn blast from a large ambulance behind, followed by several other horn blasts and shouting, "Come on, mate, get your finger out, we can't get out!"

When the chap in front gave us a rude hand gesture (in fun I hasten to add) the horn noises escalated significantly and short siren bursts emitted from the vehicle behind, followed by a chorus of similar blasts from the other ambulances. By this time everyone was in fits of laughter and all were making rude signs to each other with clenched fists shaking at one another.

Then someone switched on the main siren with blue lights flashing wildly. Of course this was followed by all five ambulances, making a dickens of a din.

Unfortunately all I could do to join in the party was to switch on my hazard warning lights and blast my horn whilst shouting and shaking my fists - quite feeble really.

Then someone turned on a microphone in a vehicle. A loud message boomed across the station, "Get out of the way, you silly old fart!" which elicited a sharp response from the offending vehicle, "Who the 'ell are you calling me a silly old fart! . . . .  you just come over here and say that and I'll floor you!"  "What do you mean? how dare you!".  Everyone went mad!

More loudspeakers were turned on in chorus uttering obscenities which are best left unsaid, as you may well imagine. The noise was deafening! Male adrenalin levels headed ever skyward! Inland Seagulls on the roofs around scarpered for safety! The women drivers and attendants joined in with their shrieks and they were in uncontrolable hysterics, generally siding with the chaps they liked best!

We were all falling about laughing by this time. To me it looked so comical to see all these ambulances with expressionless faces arguing and fighting with each other - with sirens and microphones at full belt and my little horn feebly attempting to join in.

Above this glorious chaos, with ever rising crescendo, a loud PA speaker sprang into action from the control desk, "What the b_ _ _ _ _ 'ell is going on out there? You! get that b _ _ _ _ _  ambulance out of the way so you can all get out . . . . and all of you b _ _ _ _ _ off and get to work! Now!"

Richard seized his opportunity to score a point shouted through his microphone,  the loudest, "I've got a bigger one than you!" I got out of my vehicle and rushed over to him in mock battle, shaking my fists and everyone joined in. We all ended up in the middle all falling about laughing.

Then as suddenly as it started  all was quiet and we resumed with the business of the day. Normality had returned.

A Highly Embarrassing Goof - Eddie's First Aid Course

I am having a short break from Painting and Decorating stories so we step into my time machine and travel 15-20 years into the future.  I had just joined a private ambulance company as an ACA/driver which did very nicely for me as a run up to my retirement.  Before any of us can be let loose with patients in any way whatsoever the basic requirement is a four day intensive First Aid course, and that is for starters, even to allow us to undertake  routine patient transport. After that we progress to more in house courses like the First Responder Course and if anyone wants to progress in the A and E area the training is very intensive, culminating with a Paramedic qualification.  I was a 'oldie' and there was no point in me having aspirations which were unrealistic, considering I was nearing retirement, so I struck with First Aid and First Responder courses plus any relevant in house course the company considered necessary.  I attended a four day residential Drive 1 course in Cornwall which qualified me to drive any ambulance up to police driving standards, but not using Blue Flashing Lights and Sirens for A and E work. That required additional training as a Drive 2 Emergency Driver for Accidents and Emergency driving.  I remember teasing someone who had just passed her Drive 2 and said that she would do in an emergency if they couldn't find anyone else!  She loved it and laughed her head off.

Anyway back to the story.  The venue for the four day First Aid course was ex house and our trainer was a lovely lady called Dianne.  She was a very efficient trainer and fortunately she had an extremely good sense of humour.  I loved studying First Aid.  We paired up as twos and took it in turns to practice resuscitation to an unconscious but breathing patient and then rolling them over into the recovery position.  My partner was Pam, who had started work on the same day I did.  For obvious reasons we could not use live partners for an unconscious and non-breathing patient.  Instead we used manikins and practiced CPR, Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation, where the requirement was to get them on their backs, apply two breaths into their mouth and then 30 quick compressions to help pump oxygenated blood round their bodies and notably to the brain, and keep doing this until emergcy services arrive. Several of my friends have saved people doing this which is marvellous. There is a lot of residual oxygen in the lungs of an unconcious non breathing patient, in fact 16%, as opposed to 20% in normal air and freshly breathed into the lungs, so it is possible to keep oxygenated blood circling for a while.  However the success rate of a full recovery is just 6% unfortunately.  One chap on the training course forgot he had to use a manikin and started to practice on his lady partner, whom he did not even know before that day.  This caused a high degree of amusement and uproar.

Here is a manikin just like the ones we used:

This guy is applying 30 firm chest compressions

During the second day, Dianne was dealing with eye injuries and the requirement to apply an antiseptic solution to wash any harmful grit or similar intrusions away from the affected eye. We were asked if we could suggest appropriate solutions which may be available in a First Aid situation. Various suggestions were made, all of which were entirely acceptable and then I put up my hand and was invited to offer my idea.  I said, jokingly, "This morning you said, 'Never knock urine, it is a powerful and effective anti-septic' , so why not urine?".  The whole class, including Dianne, went into hysterics with Dianne acting, "Excuse me patient, do you mind if I pee into your eye?".


Next day we progressed to shock and why it is necessary for a shocked patient to always lie down.  Shock simply is lack of oxygen to the brain, which normally takes 30% of all oxygen in our bodies.  This explains why invariably we feel sick when in shock. The stomach hates not having an adequate blood supply and if that falls short it's contents are rapidly expelled in vomit.  And vomitting is so dangerous for any breathing unconsious person and there is a vital reason why they have to be put in a recovery position. There is a real possibility if they are left on their backs they may vomit and this may be inhaled. Vomit is very acidic and corrosive and would certaining dissolve lung tissue and causae death - even in small quantities.  By placing patients on their side all vomit can drain out of their mouths. During shock a lot of blood is diverted to the greedy brain.  Nature's way of dealing with this is to fall down and lie down and that is the correct First Aid procedure.  To assist further more blood is diverted to the brain if the feet are elevated. Gosh! haven't I remembered it all well? Hope you are interested!

Anyway with all that on board the following afternoon we were taught about head injuries and if the patient is in shock as well, then it is more difficult to stop bleeding from the head injury - it's a swings and rounabouts situation. The solution is to raise the head slightly and rest it on the First Aider's knees whilst squatting. This was ably demonstrated by Dianne and a lady pretend patient.

And then Eddie drops an unbelievable unintentional clanger. In front of the entire class, with a girl as the patient lying on the floor with her head on Dianne's folded legs in a sitting position and supporting her head these immortal words gushed from Eddie's mouth:


"It's surprising what difference an extra 6 inches makes!"


Oh! to find a big hole to fall into.  The whole place errupted into a sea of laughter! The patient's shoulders immediately started to shake as she laughed. Dianne roared uncontrollably.  All the men were splitting their sides and the ladies shrieked. OMG how embarrassing!!  I even thought I saw a manikin have a little giggle. The whole class was ruined for at least five minutes and Dianne was not able to resume her teaching without breaking into laughter yet again.  Eventually she said she was going to include this in her future classes as an aid to make it more interesting.  I quickly requested royalty payments which caused another universal laugh.

Anyway we all passed our course and three years later when I was required to renew my First Aid qualification I attended a refresher course, not run by Dianne, but I saw her and we had a good laugh about the event which caused such hilarity three years previous.

I am reminded that my certificate is about to expire but I do not think I shall renew it because my ambulance days are well and truly over.  Oh! Happy memories! LOL