Super Strength Batteries

I've been blogging a few years now, and in that time I've had many a guest blog. However, I've never had one from a fellow ambulance blogger! To be honest I don't read many blogs, least of all ambulance ones. I just don't have enough time! However, I recently made contact with Binder, from not-on-my-shift.org after discovering his gem of a blog on Facebook! Despite having been blogging longer than me, I'd never seen it! I also saw his glowing recommendation for me, so felt compelled to make contact and say hello! (seriously, go and read ALL of his blog, it will have you laughing hard!)

To cut a long story short, a week later, I was in a harness, attached to a rope, and stuck 30ft up a wall hanging on for dear life. Far below me, was Binder, trying to convince me that letting go of the wall was a good idea. After a discussion with my inner psyche, I finally made peace with the fact I was sure to die, and let go of the wall. To my surprise, I didn't plummet to my death, I just hung there. Moments later I was back on the ground, stood next to a grinning Binder ready to go again. 

The afternoon passed with the exchange of war stories and as with most conversations between paramedics, it ended up being about foreign body insertions! EMS Rule #97 states that: 'Fellow paramedics always have a better story than yours.' Well ain't that the truth! I felt this story needed sharing, and who better to do it, than Binder himself! So, with all the pomp and circumstance it deserves, and without any further ado, I introduce my friend and colleague, Binder, author of not-on-my-shift.org.

Enjoy! 

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Super Strength Batteries

"You can feel it going . . . go on, have a feel" She said through tears and gritted teeth.

I placed my hand on her tiny stomach and sure enough, I could feel it . . . .

BZZZZZZZZ - BZZZZZZZZ - BZZZZZZZZ - BZZZZZZZZ - BZZZZZZZZ 

"Wow!" I said, genuinely impressed. I looked back up at our patient and smiled . . . not that this helped in any way. You see, our patient had managed to get a vibrator stuck in her rectum - and it was switched on at full speed.

She certainly was in a tizz. Tears were streaming down her face as she fought off vibrations from within and tried to bear down and force “it” out. Every now and then her hapless "partner" received a flurry of abuse and bore the brunt of her frustrations.

"You ARSEHOLE Peter*!! Super strength batteries!??? Super strength batteries!!?? Why'd you have to use SUPER STRENGTH FUCKING BATTERIES!! Oh GOD!!!"

We stood there slightly bewildered and somewhat superfluous to the poor woman's needs. Every time we'd try and calm her and make her as relaxed as she possibly could be - under the circumstances - she just burst out into a torrent of abuse aimed at her partner and then repeated another attempt at trying to get the vibrator out.

"Can you help me?!" she pleaded, squatting down and reaching round with one hand, "I mean, it's not going to go anywhere else is it?"

"No, I don't think so," I said, "you just need to relax more . . . sort of, let nature take it's course"

"I've drunk shit loads of the Colace, do you think that will help?"

"Um . . . "

"Look," she went red in the face as she bore down extra hard, ". . . I'm sure I can get it out, can you . . . Peter! PETER! PETER, you BASTARD!!"

Peter's muffled response came from within one of the cupboards, "What?!"

"GET THE FUCKING CRISP-N-DRY!!! I think I can . . . "

"Look," the other FRU said, "I think it's best we just pop you up the Hospital eh Tara*. We're not getting anywhere here are we. And I think it best a Doctor has a look yeh? Especially as you say Peter put in super strength batteries"

"Hospital?! Oh god no!" In between gritted teeth, a red face and streaming eyes, Tara gave us all wink and a smile, "I bet you lot are loving this aren't you!"

"No. Of course not Tara" We all shook our heads over theatrically.

Tara sighed deeply as if resigned to her lot, "Right . . . come on then! Let's go"

So, with a little assistance and a muffled BZZZZZZZ - BZZZZZZZ coming from her bellie we helped Tara onto the ambulance and left the crew to it. The Hospital were simply going to love this one.

Binder

*not their real names of course

Binder Smiff (2 f's)

www.not-on-my-shift.org
A Paramedic Blog
"When life-saving adventure meets fiction! . . . . well, definitely more fiction really"

The Elephant In The Room

"33 year old male, bleeding per rectum"

I'm not going to lie. The prospect of visiting a man with a bleeding rectum isn't how I wanted to start the shift. In all honesty when I signed up to this job I didn't know bleeding rectums existed! My issue with them is this. First, there is nothing I can do. Secondly, despite what the patients who are suffering the bleeding rectum think, I will not be examining, visually or otherwise. Finally, when people have a bleeding rectum they invariably find out on the toilet. This then leads to that awkward moment where they want you to visual inspect the content of their toilet bowl. On special occasions, they save used toilet paper in a bowl to look at and more often than not, are insistent that you look! I can promise you, a description of events will usually suffice and no, you need not bend over, spread your cheeks and tell me to look.

Today, I was on the car. Generally any job involving genitals, rectums, embarrassing bodies or anything else that may cause embarrassment, I prefer to be on an ambulance. Maybe it's because I like to share the awkwardness, or maybe because in some situations there should always be a witness! Anyway, sometimes, awkwardness is unavoidable and it's our job to try and not make things worse! 

I rang the buzzer of the flat and was met at the door by the patient who immediately darted back up the stair case. I reached the landing of the flats and headed into the open door. The patient seemed very nervous and anxious. He was breathing very fast and sweating profusely. I spent the first 5 minutes or so just calming him down! His blood pressure was through the roof but I put it largely down to his nerves and fear of being seriously ill. 

He explained what was wrong, and offered for me to look at the blood in the toilet. He told me it was bright red and there were no clots so I didn't feel the need to cast my antique-roadshow-esque eyes over his toilet bowl contents! The reason for the bleeding was somewhat of an enigma, so I just carried on with my questioning hoping that some kind of cause would become apparent. This is what can be awkward. There is me and the patient, alone, and no ambulance to be seen and I have to fill the time with asking questions about his rectum and toilet activities. You can see why it was a little cringe!

I asked about any medication he was on. He started trying to recall them, with little success so I asked if he had a prescription. The patient was sat on the end of the bed, I'd grabbed one of his chairs and sat opposite him. Next to us was another chair with his coat sitting on it. He reached forward, grabbed the coat and pulled it towards him. As he did so, in slow motion, something fell from the chair.....

As it fell, it rotated. I think I saw it slightly before he did. My eyes fixed on the moving target, as he realised what was happened. He lunged his hand out to try and catch it but missed. As it hit the floor it bounced slightly and began rolling towards me. It was like watching it on a super slow-motion camera. I knew it was going to hit my foot but I couldn't move to stop it. Contact was inevitable. Then it hit, wobbled and stopped. Motionless it laid there. Looking at me. A panicked swipe by the patient scooped it off the floor and back under his coat. Now there was a Mexican stand-off of sorts. Who was going to mention it first? Or would we both pretend that nothing had happened and that I'd seen nothing?! Maybe he was hoping I hadn't seen anything?!

I didn't know where to look. I didn't know what to do. There was an elephant in the room. My face stayed emotionless. Behind the cool exterior there was utter panic! My mind was screaming at me......

"THAT WAS A DILDO. A MASSIVE DILDO. A RIDICULOUSLY MASSIVE DILDO. HIS DILDO JUST HIT MY FOOT!! MY FOOT!! HIS DILDO!! HIS MASSIVE DILDO!"

"IT LOOKS LIKE IT WAS MOULDED ON AN ELEPHANT! DILDO DILDO DILDO DILDO DILDO!"

"DON'T......SAY......A......WORD. You'll just make it more awkward. BUT IT WAS A DILDO! A FRICKIN' DILDO. And it's HUGE. And it hit my foot. HIS DILDO HIT MY FOOT."

Whilst my inner monologue continued, the patient was shuffling through his jacket pocket 'trying to find the prescription'. I imagine he knew exactly where it was but his mind was probably busy screaming....

"THAT WAS MY DILDO. MY MASSIVE DILDO. MY RIDICULOUSLY MASSIVE DILDO. MY DILDO JUST HIT HER FOOT!! HER FOOT!! MY DILDO!! MY MASSIVE DILDO!"

"DON'T......SAY......A......WORD. You'll just make it more awkward. BUT IT WAS MY DILDO! MY FRICKIN' DILDO. And it's HUGE. And it hit her foot. MY DILDO HIT HER FOOT."

I think both of us wanted the ground to open up and swallow us whole. Where was the bloody ambulance. This situation was now 'time critical' because I WAS GOING TO DIE! Despite my trusted inner sanctum telling me to keep my mouth shut I had to be the one to discuss the 'elephant'.

"Have you....errrr....could that have....errrr....do you think that....errrr.....it's the cause of the bleeding?"

*Awaits answer* CRINGE!!

"Yes, I think so, sorry"

Before I could respond there was a knock at the door! The ambulance! I shot off down the corridor to let them in. I gave them as sensitive a handover as I could. I managed to avoid blurting out 'THE DILDO HIT MY FOOT'. I said goodbye to the patient (we shared 'a look') and I hurried back to my car. I got in, turned the engine on and laughed out loud!

HIS DILDO HIT MY FOOT! HIS DILDO!

DILDO!