No More, No Less

"RTC, car vs car. Injuries unknown. Police on scene."

We happened to be on the road the RTC was on when we got dispatched to it. It was about two miles away but due to the nature of the relatively narrow and winding road, any RTC always caused absolute chaos in the area. The traffic was already building up, even where we were so it took a little while for us to get there. For every five cars that move out your way, there is one that just sits there and doesn't move. It's most frustrating! Ahead, we could see the blue lights of a police car and after a final push we were there.

As far as RTC's go, this was a minor one. Three car were involved all with relatively minor amounts of damage. There were five patients, all with pretty minor ailments, but all needed assessing and treating. Injuries ranged from minor head injuries to mild chest pain. Once we had parked our 3.5 tonne vehicle traffic was now well and truly blocked in both directions, but whilst the two of us were working our way between the three cars, that was what was happening. The two cops were having to take statements, try and clear the road, act as mediator between the feuding parties as well as making sure everyone was safe until we had arrived. I didn't envy them one bit!

Sat in the traffic, near the front was a brand new white Audi. A guy, mid 20s leaned his head out the window and spoke at one of the coppers.

"Oi, how about you clear the road."

"How about you don't refer to me as 'Oi' for starters."

"How about you just do your job."

"Can you provide me with more officers to assist us, because that is what we need?"

"Ain't my job, I pay my taxes, how about you clear the road like you're paid to do, fucking idiot."

"We can only do so much. There are only two of us. We would love more officers to help but there aren't any. You'll just have to be patient."

"Just move the fucking cars so we can get on our way. It's your job, it's not rocket science. Are you all as incompetent as each other?"

"Stop swearing at me."

"Or what, what you going to do. How about instead of wasting time whining about swearing you do your job and clear the road."

At this point the copper walked away and continued doing the huge list of things that needed doing. I just stood there open mouthed. Had that really happened?! Some people are so unbelievably selfish! And arrogant. And in this case, just a total arse!

"Oi, move your ambulance so we can get past."

Oh, he's talking to me now! I felt that warm feeling inside, one full of joy and excitement! I composed myself for a moment and walked over to his open window.

"You are a rude, nasty, LITTLE man. You will wait like everyone else is waiting. There is nothing you can say, or do to make me move my ambulance any faster. All that you stand to achieve with this attitude is ensuring you wait longer."

With that I begun walking away! 

"Go fuck yourself."

"Very intelligent response. Well done." I said with a smile.

"Fuck off."

Clearly, I don't have the same levels of self restraint that coppers do. I am often found guilty of taking the bait but someone needed to tell him he was being an arse! The police face this abuse on a daily basis and most people get away with it, because there simply aren't enough officers to arrest and process these morons.

I asked the police officers on twitter how many units / officers would be needed in an ideal world to deal with a 3 car RTC with 5 patients on a busy road. These were some of the responses:

"I'd like 6. However I think that 4 is probably all I'd get. And that's on a good day." 

"Ideal world an officer per car, 2 for the road block and 2 for the witnesses so 7. That would almost be my whole team!" 

"6 in an ideal world, but you should be so lucky! 4 would be safe and manageable" 

"Ideally 6, but safe with 4. No less than that." 

"4-6 for scene management, arranging recovery, taking witness statements etc"  

"Depending on the road 6-8 ideally, not less than 4, too much to do." 

"Probably 6 I reckon but that would be most of my team!"

So, I think it's fair to say that the one police car with two officers was not enough to safely deal with the scene. Unfortunately, there was no one spare to send. In previous blogs Please Sir, can I have some more? and A Special Relationship I highlighted what effect the cut of 16,000 front line officers was having. Those two posts highlighted extreme cases which is easy to get outraged about but RTC's like this are part and parcel of every day policing and there simply are not enough to spread around. What you're left with is two officers trying to mange 3 angry families, a blocked road, the irate public, 5 patients, 3 drivers to process and breathalise, vehicles to help arrange recovery for and an ambulance crew to ensure are kept safe! It simply doesn't add up does it?!

As a bonus, as the road was being cleared the chippy chav opened his abusive mouth one to many times! The cop went over to the car and asked him politely to get out the car. The driver don't take kindly to this and his threatening manor and verbal threats landed him in handcuffs. To top it off, due to a faint smell of alcohol he too was breathalised. In what was a beautifully poetic moment, he blew over the limit and was promptly arrested for drink driving. One more scum bag off the road! If only he'd kept his mouth shut!

Despite the pressures, everything got done. The abusive moron was ignored, then arrested! The road got cleared, the patients got treated and discharged and after a good hour or so all that was left was the two cops with an absolute mountain of paper work, an ambulance crew and a clear road. The upshot is though, the public are left blaming the police for not doing enough to ensure their smooth journey! It's not the cars crashing, it's the police not working fast enough to clear the road. That moron happened to voice it but you can be sure others with thinking it. The emergency services shouldn't be left in a situation to just cope and muddle through. These ill conceived cuts to front line services have a huge effect on day to day services and there simply are not enough left to keep the public safe. Then again, lets not forget police should "Cut crime, no more, no less". These non-police matters will sort themselves out, eh Terese May....

The 5 Stages

"32 year old male, head injury post RTC, Car vs Lamppost"

First job of the shift; one minute in, typical start to the day. We put on our hi-vis jackets, threw our stuff on the truck and headed out for the day. The location was a residential road but quite a high speed one. It was just after 7am so the traffic was starting to pick up. When we arrived on scene, at the same time as the police, our patient was still in the car, the bonnet of which was wrapped around a lamp post. The airbags had been deployed and he had a nasty looking gash on his head. We fully assessed him and after the wound was cleaned slightly it wasn't as bad as it first looked. He had no neck pain at all so we slowly helped him out of the car, onto the trolley bed and onto the truck. He said he'd been driving to work and a cat had run out in front of him. He'd swerved to miss it, lost control and ended up well acquainted with the lamp post. As is standard practise the police came on board to take a statement and breathalyse him. Up to this point he had been very chatty but failing the breathalyser changed that. 

Although guilty of drink driving, I believed he had done so without intention. It is all too common to still be over the legal limit following a night's sleep and a breakfast. Regardless of his intentions though, the law is there for a reason. That reason is to stop people getting killed; simple as that. The costs to our patient, of not baring that in mind were huge. What made this job interesting though was watching how he dealt with being arrested. There was a striking similarity to that of the 5 stages of grief and mourning. Obviously, he wasn't suffering grief or mourning in the traditional sense but he did follow the pattern first described in Elsabeth Kubler-Ross' 1969 book 'On
Death and Dying' that says a distinct pattern of emotions is followed.

1. Denial

His first reaction to learning of being arrested was to deny the reality of the situation. He simply would not accept what was happening or what the officer was saying to him.

"Are you serious? No way. This is not happening, you're kidding right?"

"I don't kid about drink driving"

"But I stopped drinking last night... I didn't have that much, it can't be right"

Explaining that it was indeed correct and he would now be arrested changed his mood somewhat.

2. Anger

As the masking effects of denial began to wear thin the reality and severity of the situation re-emerged. His intense emotion was deflected from his apparent vulnerability and was redirected and expressed instead as anger. He started shouting abuse at the cops and us for that matter.

"You lot should be out catching real criminals" Blah Blah Blah....

"What the f@$k are you looking at?"

He then proceeded to jump off of the bed and make a bee line for the back door, kicking out and swinging wildly. Needless to say, he was promptly subdued and put in the back on the bed, this time in handcuffs. He continued his abuse for a few minutes until he realised it was getting him nowhere.

3. Bargaining

It didn't take him long to realise that anger was not working so he tried begging and pleading to not be arrested.

"Please mate, come on, you don't have to do this. There must be something I can do. Please. I'll do anything, honest"

"Sorry fella, you've been drink driving, there's no excuse and nothing you can say to change the facts"

"Seriously, I'll do anything, I'll pay a fine, community service, whatever you want"

Like the anger, this went on for a while. My crew mate was dressing the cut on his head while I did paperwork and he just continued to beg and plead for redemption.

4. Depression

Two types of depression are associated with mourning. Obviously he wasn't mourning in the traditional sense but he was certainly realising the gravity of the situation. The first one was the reaction to practical implications relating his arrest. His sadness and regret were obvious and as he spoke I kind of felt sorry for him. I'm passionate about my hatred for drink drivers, but when you hear someone list the implications of the careless mistake they have made made, it's hard not to feel for them a bit. 

"I'm gonna lose my licence and my job aren't I?" 

It was a rhetorical question; he knew the answer as did we.

"What am I gonna tell my wife? She can't drive, how am I gonna pay the bills? Oh my god, what have I done?"

He had a point but as the old adage goes, if you can't do the time, don't do the crime. The second type of depression was more subtle and, in a sense, perhaps more private. He just lay their on our bed, staring at the ceiling. He then put his head in his hands and cried. It was an awkward moment really. What do you say? You can't really say 'serves you right', although it does, but it's human nature to have compassion. Then again, if his drink driving had killed a little kid there would be no questions that he should get everything that's coming to him. The fact that he got lucky doesn't negate that.

5. Acceptance

By the time we got to hospital he had a quiet acceptance about what was going to happen. He was apologetic to everyone for what he had done and how he behaved. I'm sure in the coming days he will be dipping back into anger and depression, and only once he's had his day in court and learns to live with the consequences of his actions, will he truly accept what has happened. It's easy to point the finger and equally easy to find compassion for the guilty, but there are people who may never find the acceptance they need. These people are the victims of drink driving; the people behind the statistics, the people who will never forget the consequences of someone's stupidity.

• On average 3,000 people are killed or seriously injured each year in drink drive collisions. 

• Nearly one in six of all deaths on the road involve drivers who are over the legal alcohol limit. 

• The latest figures show that some 590 people were killed in crashes in which a driver was over the legal limit; 2,350 were seriously injured and 14,050 were slightly injured in the last year.

• Car crashes are the leading cause of death for teens and one out of three of those are alcohol related.

It doesn't matter if you have had one drink too many or 10. The results can be catastrophic. It doesn't matter if you drive whilst drinking or the morning after; the same risks apply and if you think you won't get caught, more than half a million breath tests are carried out each year and on average 100,000 are found to be positive. Don't take the risk. Don't drink. Don't become a statistic. That is all.

Was it worth it?...

"Running call, male fallen off motorbike"

We had been called to an 1 month old cardiac arrest. After a slightly manic drive and a brisk walk up 3 flights of stairs we were greeted by the FRU with a crying baby in his arms. Clearly not as given! The baby had vomited some milk. Perfectly normal one might think but for the mother, it warranted an ambulance. Despite the apparent well being of our patient due to a service policy of conveying under 2s to hospital, off we went.  Our route to hospital took us on a rather large duel carriage way. It was about 6pm, rush hour, dark and raining. A motorcycle overtook me at about 60mph, then proceeded to swerve in-front of me. His back wheel was all over the place and then he lost it. His bike went over and he was thrown up into the air. Everything seemed to stop and produce clarity, I was watching him fly through the air in slow motion, his arms waving, his body rotating, helpless to stop, bracing for impact. Suddenly, it sped up again. I slammed on my breaks, stopping feet from his bike and he hit the floor. He bounced and rolled. And rolled. And rolled. He came to a stop. He was lying on the bank of grass on side of the road, motionless. 

I jumped out the truck, grabbed some bags and went over too him. Amazingly he was conscious, albeit in pain. My crew mate called control and requested a second ambulance. Due to the winter pressures however, there was no one available. A car was on route but that was all for now. I began assessing the patient, amazingly, he only appeared to have cuts and bruises. A possible fractured leg but nothing serious. No head injury, no apparent spinal injury. Needless to say, we treated for a spinal injury, he was collared and boarded, his leathers were cut off and he was fully immobilised. His voice was a bit slurred and initially I put it down to concussion but the more we spoke the more I wasn't convinced. Eventually the FRU arrived. Due to the lack of second ambulance we decided to put our mother and baby in the car and we'd take the motorcyclist and then we'd all go to the same hospital. We loaded him on to the truck, in the dry and re-assessed. Out of the rain and the wind it became clear exactly why he lost control. He was drunk. And not just a little bit drunk, he was plastered. 

We requested the police and headed off to hospital. He was 18 years old, had just started university and delivered pizzas in the evenings. In fact, he stated he was on his way to work. His boss and rung him to say he was supposed to be there and rather than say he'd been drinking all day, decided to go in. He had had over 3 litres of cider and numerous shots throughout the afternoon and didn't really see the ramifications of what was going on. He was only 18 with his life in front of him, he was going to be arrested, he was going to be charged and going to be convicted of drink driving. He was going to have a criminal record. He would have a fine to pay. He was going to lose his licence, he was going to lose his job. He was going to lose his income, he going to lose his independence and was going to seriously effect his future employability. Despite all of this his main concern was whether or not his bike was OK. I didn't have an ounce of sympathy for him. I tried to explain that the law about drink driving isn't there to be a killjoy. It's there to save lives. He is lucky no other vehicle was involved. He was lucky that the powers that be protect drunk people form serious injury. He was lucky he wasn't killed. He was lucky he didn't kill anyone. He didn't seem to care.

We arrived at the hospital and wheeled him to the corridor where we waited our turn to handover.  Moments later the police arrived. Being strapped down to a board he didn't see them walk in, it wasn't until one of their faces peered over his that he realised just exactly what he'd done and what the consequences were. Que the penny dropping. Que the tears. Que the remorse. Que the request for mum. Que the fear. Que the handcuffs.