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.

WHO IS THE PATIENT ?

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

This is a really weird story.  Once again I was driving the Sunshine Bus Ambulance, but this time my assignment was to pick up a lady patient, plus her helper, from a specialist unit at a hospital in Bristol, and take them home to Weston-Super-Mare, 25 miles away.

The worksheet described her as someone who suffers Narcolepsy, meaning liable to fall asleep at any moment, plus Apnoea, a condition where when asleep the patient can stop breathing for a while and then starts to do so - a condition which can prove fatal.  I thought it surprising that this lady had managed to survive at all let alone well into her adulthood.  

I knew there was a wheelchair involved, which was no problem since the ambulance had a ramp for wheelchair access.  The patient could either be transferred to a seat or remain in the wheelchair, strapped to the ambulance floor using special fixings and seat belt.

The specialist unit was in an unfamiliar part of the hospital, but I found it eventually and was surprised to see no lady in a wheelchair waiting.  

Instead I saw a rather frail lady pushing a wheelchair with a huge man seated.  She seemed a little excited and waved me over and said her name which matched the name on my worksheet.  Amazed, I told her I expected her, as the patient, to be in the wheelchair.  She said, "Oh! This is my husband.  I push him everywhere.  He has gone off his legs, you see! "

Slightly confused, I took over the wheelchair pushing and this guy was heavy - and I mean heavy.

We walked to the ambulance and I expressed some concern about her, the patient, pushing a heavy wheelchair.  She told me that the appointment had gone well and she was alright., but seemed more focused on her husband.  "The poor dear has gone off his legs and had a dreadful time recently with an attack of influenza."  The man was huge and I judged him to weigh over 20 stones (280 pounds).  I enquired about his health and he said he was much better, and we reached the ambulance with the ramp down all ready.  I pushed him up the ramp but he was heavy and as I did so he said, "I've lost a lot of weight recently, I used to be 25 stones (350 pounds) but now I am only 21 stones (294 pounds)."

My sense of humour surfaced and I said, "Thanks mate! That's made my job a bit easier!"

They both laughed and I strapped his wheelchair with him seated in it and we proceeded on our way.

I was mindful of her condition and did not want her to sleep and have the slightest chance of her stopping breathing so I kept talking to her all the way home and when we got almost there she said, "Just drop us off on the corner, our house is just a little way down the road."  

I got them out of the ambulance with him still in his wheelchair, and she insisted on taking over the wheelchair pushing, saying, "Oh, I often take him for a walk!  It's a lovely evening!"

And so we said our goodbyes and as they walked off into the sunset, and I stayed a while to make sure they got home safely.


I thought this was a very strange experience, but in that line of work nothing surprised us.




         

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.