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....

Dead Man's Hand

"25 year old male, playing cards, now not talking"

Call me a cynic, but I suspected this was going to be yet another waste of a resource. I may be wrong, he may well be having a stroke like the NHS111 triage system had determined, but at the age of 25, this was highly unlikely. There are always medical phenomenon, where teenagers have strokes, heart attacks and other conditions that are not expected to be a risk for at least 30-40 years. However, they are rare, especially when there are no risk factors. With no other symptoms listed, it was pretty staggering to the me that a) I was even going to it and b) it was such a high category or call! Anyway, who am I to form these opinions and question these decisions?! I'm just the Band 5 warrior who gets to see these people in their own habitat! I'm just the one who treats them. I'm just the ambulance driver who merely takes them to hospital. Questioning NHS111 is way above my pay grade! Anyway, only time would tell if it was NHS111 1 - 0 Me or the other way around. I suspected I would be taking home the points today! 

I pulled up to the house around 1am. It was the only house in the road with lights on so was pretty easy to spot. The door opened as I was walking down the path and a young guy came out to meet me.

"Thanks for coming, you really shouldn't be here."

"No problem, what happened tonight?"

"Between you and me, he's a friend of a friend. We have had a poker night and he has lost money. He kept buying back in over and over and now owes about £70. He collapsed to the floor, we got him up and put him in a chair and he hasn't said a thing since. Every now and again he opens his eyes but just closes them. It's a bit odd, I reckon he's putting it on to avoid paying but a couple of the guys were worried and called that 111 thing."

"OK, thanks for the heads up, let's go and see him."

I was led through to the living room where the perfect 'lads night' was on display. Sky Sports News on the TV, remnants of a curry lying around, poker table set up and a fair few empty cans of lager all over the place. They were actually a really nice group of guys, polite, courteous, offered me tea / coffee etc. 

"Coffee, milk and 2 please!"

Lying in the chair was the patient. I've seen a lot of unconscious people in my time and I've also seen plenty feigning unconsciousness and he was DEFINITELY not unconscious. I don't know what it is exactly, we just know! Unconscious people have a look about them.

"Come on James, open your eyes.......James, open your eyes."

Nothing. I lent forward and gently touched his eyelashes. Sure enough, they twitched. Shocker! 

"James, I know you can here me, stop playing around and talk to me."

Nothing. I pinched the muscle on the top of his shoulder as my 'pain stimulus'. Sure enough, he recoiled from it but still continued the pretence of unconsciousness.

"James, an ambulance is on its why. I'd like to cancel them so they can be used on one of the dozens of seriously sick people who are currently waiting for one. The reason they are coming here is because you are pretending to unconscious. Do me and them a favour and start talking to me, this has gone far enough.........James!"

Nothing. I went for the shoulder again and he slid himself down onto the floor and started 'fitting'. It was one of the worst fake seizures I've ever seen, complete with spitting and drooling. After about 20 seconds he stopped. I picked up his arms, held it over his face and let it go. Sure enough, instead of dropping and hitting him in the face he moved it to one side at the last second. 

"Red Base, this patient is not co-operating, could you request the police to attend this CAD as the patient is preventing the emergency services carrying out their duty." (Forgot to press the transmit button, oops!)

*cue the miraculous spontaneous recovery*

James started moving around slowly and feigning confusion. 

"What happened, what's going on?"

"You pretended to be unconscious and then pretended to have a fit, are you recovered now?"

"What do you mean?"

I could have continued in the same vein but it was easier to just ensure he was fully recovered so I could cancel the ambulance. AMAZINGLY within about a minute he was fully recovered, fully alert, fully cooperative and fully embarrassed. 

"Does he need to go to hospital?" said one of the guys.

"Nope, certainly not, he'll be just fine!"

"Excellent! Pay up bro! Mans have to pay their debts!"

24 - Season 3: Episode 4

continued……

The following takes place between 03:26am and 12:00pm

03:26

Despite that sudden burst of energy that the RTC had yielded, 03:00 in the morning is a friend to no one. As quick as the energy and invigoration arrived, it was gone again, leaving two, very sorry looking individuals left slumped in the cab of an ambulance. I could feel myself slipping into that place between being awake and being asleep, where your dream kind of starts but you eyes are still kind of open. The piercing noise of the MDT soon erred me towards my eyes kind of being open.

03:49

“21 year old female, chest pain. From NHS 111”

“On a scale of 0-10, 10 being central crushing chest pain, pouring with sweat, ashen in appearance and an impending sense of doom, and 0 being……..whatever.”

“ A 1. Panic attack. Fully recovered. Said the words chest pain. Likely car and ambulance.”

Off we went. The conversation wasn’t as bubbly as it had been. We were both staring at the road ahead, struggling to keep our keeps open. I did however summon the energy to make a joke about me not wanting to drive any more! 

When we pulled up on scene, as predicted there was a car there. We took a walk, similar to that of a zombie up the garden path and into the open door. Sitting on the sofa in the living room was our patient. She looked perfectly happy, not in any pain, not hyperventilating. The handover from the FRU went something a little like this……

“Hi guys, this young lady thinks she may have had a panic attack this morning. It has fully resolved now and she has no symptoms. She called NHS111 for advise on medication and they insisted on sending an ambulance because she said that during the panic attack they was tightness in her chest whilst breathing. Because of the ‘chest pain’ they said she had to go to hospital. She told them she didn’t want an ambulance and here we are!”

*little high-5 behind our backs*

Well, this going to be simple! All her OBs were completely fine, as you’d expect them to be and her ECG also resembled the perfect heart of a 21 year old. Needless to say, we did our paperwork and left! 

As you can see, NHS 111 causes a monumental waste of resources on an hourly basis. It’s not the people who work there’s fault. They follow a computer and the computer tells them what to do. When the computer says jump, it also tells them how high. Or in this case, it told them an FRU and an ambulance would be needed to deal with a 21 year old female who had had a panic and din’t want to be seen. 

Just for the record….. 21 YEAR OLD FEMALE DON’T HAVE HEART ATTACKS. OK, so maybe one did once because of having other medical problems and all the risk factors one could have, but surely this doesn’t mean that for ever more any 21 year old with pain in or near their chest, jaw or arms is having a heart attack?! Seriously! 

Anyway, off job time! 

04:27

Luckily a job came down pretty much straight away. Well, I say luckily….I hadn’t the patient yet!

“48 year old male, chest pain, ?intoxicated. At bus stop.”

“On a scale of 0-10, 10 being as blind drunk as they come, vomiting, urinating and requiring carrying, 0 being sober as a judge, how intoxicated is he?”

“6. Drunk, probably an alcoholic, the smell will make your eyes water, but sober enough to answer questions, walk and swear at me.”

My crew mate chuckled. It was knowing chuckle! Mainly because she knew I’d be correct! Social drinkers tend to be drunker and are normally scooped up and hospitalised by 3am. Angry, smelling alcoholics tend to be perms-drunk and therefor somewhat more capable of being encouraged to walk. They are generally much more abusive and tend to sit on benches or at bus stops which are near the 24/7 off-licences! Call me sceptical but this particular bus stop was right outside a 24/7 ‘Food and Wine’! Finally. he was 48. Generally 48 year olds don’t get blind drunk and call themselves ambulances at this time of the morning! The binge drinkers are the young ones, the alcoholics are the old ones. Normally! I may be proved completely wrong. 

I wasn’t. 

Sitting at the bus stop was a regular patient of mine. A vile, abusive drunk who calls an ambulance because he lives near the hospital. I was correct on every single count.

*little high-5 behind our backs*

“What’s the problem today Sir?”

“I’ve got fucking chest pain, I already told ‘em that.”

“Well you hadn’t told me that. How long have you had the pain?”

“Stop asking me fucking questions and just take me to hospital.”

“If you have chest pain, we need to do your ECG and check you over.”

“I don’t want one, just take me to fucking hospital.”

This could work one of two ways. I could say exactly what I was thinking about his abuse of the service for a lift home, probably wind him up further and end up with him being arrested, or I could open the ambulance door, let him on, drive to the hospital and let him run off to his house. There would be no winners for doing the right thing, but at least by giving into his whim, we’d be off on time. You could try and argue the morality or this with me, and tell me it just encourages that behaviour, and you're probably right. But at 5am, I am right. The end!

Off we went, conversation was hardly flowing and all inane questions were responded to with a battery of swearing. Sure enough, the back door opened, he staggered out, and wondered off down the road. Paperwork done, slurp of coffee and we were done. Finito. Fine. Time for bed! 

05:30

Free from the risk of another job we begun driving back to station. I took the opportunity to double check my rota for tonight's shift. Doing so much overtime means it’s easy to forgot where and when you were working. I had booked a late shift somewhere which would mean a relatively short turn around but it was my choice so I couldn’t moan…….

12:00!!! 12:00!!! I had mad the ultimate shift fail! I booked overtime thinking I was in at 18:00 but no! I was due in at 12:00 on a core shift, not overtime! I was due back in work for a 12 hour shift in just over 6 hours! Factor in travel, eating and showering time and I’m left with no more than 3 hours sleep. I felt sick. I had that pitted feeling in my stomach. My crew mate simply laughed, out loud, in my face! What could I do?! It was no ones fault but my own. I couldn’t change or cancel my core shift at short notice because I’d done overtime the night before. I’d just have to suck it up! 

We got back on station and I rushed everything away and headed off on my bike! 

06:20

I finally got into bed. Needless to say I laid away for ages, panicking about having to be up in a few short hours! I set my alarm for the last minute possible but that didn’t alleviate my fears!

10:40

THAT NOISE! Urrrrrgggghhh! I felt like I’d been hit by a bus. Nothing could console me. I was a wreck! I did everything as quick as I could, no time to make lunch and dinner though! Today was going to be a McFried Kingway kind of day! 

11:52

I arrived at work. Here we go again.

*Faceplam*

24 - Season 3: Episode 3

continued……

The following takes place between 00:00am and 03:26am

00:00

It was fair to say we had broken the back of the shift! It’s always nice on nights when you consider yourself to be on the home stretch! We tucked into our cold dinner as the clock ticked down to when we had to green up for the next one. Sadly, that time arrived far to quickly and once again we were off. I was also starting to yawn which with 6 hours to go, isn’t ideal! Again, I tentatively suggested we swap round but the only thing I got was laughter in return. Worth a shot! 

“30 year old male, DIB, Asthma. From NHS 111”

You’ll be shocked to hear I was sceptical! As far as I’m concerned, people who have asthma no what an asthma attack feels like and know what to do when they have one. They also know exactly when they need to call 999 so I find it odd for an asthma patient to call 111 for advice. As had been the theme of the evening, my cremate posed me a simple question:

“On a scale of 0-10, 0 being breathing so perfectly it makes me feel positively wheezy and 10 being unable to breathe, requiring ventilations, a silent chest, tracheal and sub-costal tug all needing immediate inspiration and a blue call, how bad is his DIB?”

“I reckon a 2. Possibly a 3. He’s probably got a cough. In fact, change that to a 1. Normal everything, no wheeze but thinks A & E will be some kind of great adventure!”

We pulled up at the block of flats. The address details said ‘4th floor’. There was no lift. Can you imagine the joy that was flowing through my veins?! By the time we got to the top, both of us were breathless and therefore, by my prediction, more in need of an ambulance than the patient. 

BINGO! *takes a bow*

There was our treasure of a patient, sitting on the sofa grinning away. There was no cyanosis, no increased respiratory rate, no obviously distress or difficulty, just a big grin. The grin itself was mildy unsettling! 

“Good evening Sir, what’s the problem tonight?”

“I’ve had this awful cough and cold. I think I’m wheezy with difficulty in breathing.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“Since the afternoon.”

My crewmate, complete with wry smile, did all of his OBs. All normal. Oxygen levels were 100%, there was no temperature, blood pressure and heart rate were normal. I couldn’t find anything wrong with him other than being sniffly. 

Despite my sound medical advice and suggestions of alternatives to accident and emergency he wanted to go and get ‘Antibotics’. I didn’t think he needed Antibiotics but there was definitely no indication for ‘Antibotics’. Rest assure though, he had taken ‘Paretomol’ and ‘Buprofen’. 

*Facepalm*

Anyway, overnight bag packed he headed back down the stairs to the ambulance and headed off. On route I had a fascinating conversation with his wife about diabetes. She had been diagnosed with type 2 diabetes a year ago at the age of 26. I can’t say I was surprised, she must have been in excess of 20 stone and rather short. Diabetes was somewhat inevitable. However, she assured me that she’d ‘caught it’ of her mum. Yep, that nasty contagious strain of diabetes mellitus was at it again, jumping from host to host, catching people unawares. It was just sheer coincidence she happened to be morbidly obese, a smoker and didn’t exercise. But yes, blame the parents! 

What these two need is the health promotion version of the ‘birds and the bees’ chat. An actual in depth conversation about lifestyle, risk factors, causes, what constitutes being ill and PRONUNCIATION of very common medications! Every time someone says ‘Buprofen’ a puppy dies. Spread the message and help cure the madness!

01:15

Thoroughly frustrated and now verging on irritable I no longer felt on the home straight. It felt like there was absolutely years to go until the end of the shift. Urrrrrgggghhhh!!

“23 year old female, tearing abdo pain, From NHS 111”

Really?! ‘Tearing’ seems the new buzzword that NHS 111 seem to be asking patients. Tearing abdo pain is a symptom of a very dangerous, life threatening Abdominal Aortic Aneurysm. (AAA). These patients often die. Unfortunately, if you ask someone who is ringing for advise if the pain is ‘a tearing pain’ it is highly likely a fair few will just say yes. Cue the Red 2 response of FRU and an ambulance. 

“On a scale of 0-10, 0 being calm, relaxed and whistling ‘ Always Look On The Bright Side of Life’, and 10 being the worst abdo pain since records begun, causing eventual loss of consciousness and a necessity to anaesthetise immediately, how bad do you think the pain is?”

“Definitely a 2. No more. But I want a bonus if she says 11 or 12 then laughs.” 

Up ahead of us were blue lights, we slowed down by the police car and saw the wreckage of a car. 

“Evening! Need a hand at all?!” 

“Yes please, we’d just requested you, got 1 trapped”

“RUNNING CALL: RTC, Car vs Tree, 26 year female trapped, injuries unknown.”

Pulled over and the road was subsequently closed. In the passenger seat was a young lady very distress and upset. The wouldn't open and her leg was trapped. A second ambulance was on scene within a minute or so and one of them got into the back, much to his annoyance! Everyone else claimed seniority so it was he who hat to sit in the back, holding her head for probably an hour whilst we got the fire brigade to cut her out. 

As I’ve said before, the fire brigade are great at what they do and we can’t get these patients out of the car without them. They arrived on mass much to the amusement of the police and myself. A sea of daffodils bundled out of all 3, yes 3 fire engines plus a specialist rescue unit. There was at least 24 of them around this tiny Nissan Micra. 

“I can’t stand around here watching them all swinging their bollocks around in some blue light mating ritual. I’m taking the driver to the truck and see how he is!”

Well, that was my cremate gone! And she had a point. Despite explaining that I just wanted the door off they seemed determined to take the roof off! My patient had no neck pain or back pain but was trapped and her leg was hurting. I wanted to get her out with as little faff as possible but that was proving an impossible task. The ‘white helmet’ ( 1 of 3) attempted to patronise me with phrases such as ‘Look here luv…’ which went down a treat. They didn’t need to take the roof off, the door would surface so much to their annoyance I pissed on their parade and stuck to my guns. Rolled eyes and head shakes followed but I didn’t care. It was freezing cold, raining and my patient needed to be in the warm with some decent pain killers. This wasn’t the time of the place for a training exercise. 

With the door off we got her fitted into a KED (fancy extraction devise) and promptly pulled her out of the car sideways onto the bed. She had escaped with minimal injuries so was taken in the other ambulance. We took her husband to the same hospital and left the 24 deflated egos having a collective bitch about that stupid paramedic! Ooops!

This encounter had woken me up somewhat! By the time we were fed and watered and ready to go again it was approaching 03:30 so time for 1, maybe 2 more depending on the customer! Winning!

Time to press the button again…..

To be continued…..

24 - Season 3: Episode 2

continued……

The following takes place between 22:12pm and 00:00am

22:12

Partially caffeinated and well snacked we green’d up for the next one. We had to wait the all of 5 seconds!

“? drunk, ? at a bus stop, ? fall. NFDA”

Call me a cynic but this sounds like a drunk at a bus stop. I know, I know, you mustn't pre-judge a call before you get there, blah blah blah. Sure, it could be a confused diabetic patient having a hypo, who has collapsed to the ground by a bus stop and hit his head. The resultant head injury could have caused him to have a seizure and due to him being crunched up against the bus stop, the resultant positional asphyxia and subsequent hypoxia has caused him to go into cardiac arrest. At this point a member of the public has seen him, phoned 999 and started resuscitation.

Anyway, we were on our way to a drunk at a bus stop! If it wasn’t, I’d eat my hat!

We pulled up and I was disappointed that there was no one lying on the floor. Had I been wrong?! The disappointment did not last long when we were suddenly treated to the member of the public that had phoned us! And believe me when I say ‘treat’! Picture Dr. Emmett Lathrop "Doc" Brown, Ph.D, from back to the future barring down on us walking like John Wayne! Now, keep the hair and facial expressions of the Doc but add the glasses of Garth from Wayne’s World. Now dress him in a Christmas jumper, a Columbo trench coat and some rather fetching white leather snake belly cowboy boots! Across the top of the boots, drawn in marker pen was his name! Nige! It was a sight to behold! My cremate almost choked on the dried mango she was chewing. I just starred in amazement and wound the window down! 

“Good evening ladies!” he said with a letchy grin!

“Good evening, is it you who has called us?!”

“It sure is!”

“What’s the problem tonight?!”

“Well, I think someone needs your help. There was a homeless Polish man who fell over. I think he was drunk. I chatted to him and gave him £5. He seemed very cold so I offered to go and fetch him the spare duvet from my house. Can you believe it, he didn’t want it?!”

“You.Are.Kidding!”

“I’m not! He just got up and walked off! He’s going to get so cold!”

“How long ago did we wonder off?!

“About an hour ago maybe.”

“So what would you like us to do tonight?”

“Well I’ve invited you here, and the police too, so we can have a group discussion of how best to proceed. It’s not normal behaviour to refuse a duvet when it’s this cold.”

“So you want us to wait here for the police arrive, so we can discuss with them, and your good self, how best to provide assistance to a drunk, homeless, Polish man, who doesn’t want any help and who we have no idea where he is?”

“Yep, I think it’s important, especially as it is so cold.”

A.M.A.Z.I.N.G! I know I moan about being sent to utter nonsense with worrying regularity, but jobs like this make a night shift thoroughly enjoyable! I could happily have played along with Nige for hours and hours. Unfortunately, they were holding calls so I had to gently let Nige down and tell him that the multi-agency conference would not be happening and that we would be leaving! I wished him a merry Christmas and complimented him on his taste in footwear! 

What a great experience that was! Now, back to the mango!

23:00

“50 year old male, chest pain”

Why can’t we ever just be left alone for 10 minutes to enjoy exotic fruits in peace! It’s as if they think we are an emergency service and patients come before dried mango! Anyway, we had to travel a bit of a silly distance to this one so I had time to eat on the run!

We pulled up outside a block of flats and my crew mate instantly recognised it. She didn’t know why, or who but recognised the flats, which was ominous to say the least! We got to the front door and just as I was about to knock the door swung open! Standing there was our patient, dressed like he was about to brave the arctic circle and very much ready to go! He looked a bit like Stanley Hudson from The Office US! As we ushered him towards the ambulance my crew mate lent over to me and said:

“Have fun with this one!”

“Wheeeeeeeeeyyyyy!”

Once on the back of the truck, the rigmarole of removed the 847 layers of clothing begun. Conversation wasn’t forthcoming despite my best efforts and the history was rather vague! He was also rather drunk and a tad creepy! 

“What’s the main problem tonight?”

“I have this funny old pain in my chest.”

“And how long have you had that for?”

“About two years or so.”

“Two year?! What’s different tonight?!”

“Nothing new.”

*facepalm*

I did all his OBs and everything was fine. He was keen to go to hospital but I convinced him that A & E probably wasn’t in his best interest. I started filling in all his personal details and realised I have completely forgotten his name! This often happens despite my concerted effort to always remember so rather than go through the embarrassment of asking their name again, I ask how to spell it. Obviously, more often than not I can get away with it, but names like Bill make me look stupid! 

“How do I spell your name?”

“K as in Kevin, E as in Evin, V as in….Vin, I as in Ivin and E as in Evin.”

“So Kevin then?”

“Yes.” 

Well, that was suitably bizarre way to dictate the spelling of a name, but then again, he called an ambulance for a two year history of chest pains. I won’t get him to phonetically spell EMERGENCY! If I did I have no doubt the joke would be lost on him! 

Eventually the paperwork was done, referral was made and all 847 layers were in position for the 10 meter walk back to his house! 

“Good night Kevin”

“Thank you.”

Another life well and truly saved! It's too early in the morning to rant about NHS111 and patients with 2 year histories of anything! He wasn't rude, provided some entertainment and didn't need carrying. I can assure you, that is all anyone ever wants on a night shift!

To be continued…….