As I'm returning to the station from my ITLS (International Trauma Life Support) class with Drew, I hear the tones drop for a ground level fall. I'm almost 100% sure that we won't be going, but Drew grabs my arm as he heads for the medic.
"Let's go," he says with a sigh.
"Why us!?"
"Everyone else gets off in an hour; we're here all night. Let's go."
Eric, Drew and I climb into the medic, and I'm beyond frustrated. I'm tired from class, I have studying to do, and to top it all off I'm missing the lunar eclipse. I call my mom en route so I can hear her describe the eclipse.
"Blood red," she says. "You won't see this again until 2010, so try to look up when you get to the house." The sirens wail in the background, and since Eric is driving, the airhorn drowns out smatterings of what my mom is saying.
"Jesus, Eric" I hear Drew say as we approach the intersection, "they heard you coming an hour ago!"
When we get to the house, I see a woman lying on the floor of her bathroom, strategically wedged between the bathtub, the door and the bedroom.
"Hi, my name is Sam; I'm an EMT with the rescue squad. Try not to move your head, just answer my questions verbally; I'm going to put my hands on your head, is that okay?" She shakes her head to say yes, and I groan.
"What's your name," I ask her with a smile.
"Wendy," she replies. "I feel so stupid."
"Why stupid, Wendy?"
"I fell and hit my head on the bathtub and my friend called the ambulance and now here you are. The neighbors must think I'm so stupid." I smell the alcohol on her breath, and I ask her if she's been drinking.
"God yes," she replies, "lots."
I notice a nasty laceration at her hairline; it's stopped bleeding, but I can tell it hurts. She has a pretty bad bruise on her cheek, too. Eric shines a light for me to see better, but has the uncanny ability to shine it right in her eyes. I ask him to turn it off, and she smiles and whispers, "thank you."
I ask Drew to get me a C-collar, and as soon as I say that, Wendy looks up at me and says as serious as a heart attack, "I'm not going to the hospital."
I shoot a look over to Eric and sigh. He asks her the standard questions: person, place and day. She answers them all beautifully, and he tells me to let go of c-spine. Reluctantly I do, but not without protest.
"She's drunk."
"She's A&O x 3. She can refuse."
"I don't care. She's drunk and she hit her head hard enough to bruise and slice her scalp open." I look over at her, and see that she has her eyes closed. "Wendy," I ask, and she opens them slowly.
"Wendy, are you okay?"
"My hands feel tingly," she says, and I look very pointedly at Eric. I take her hands in mine and ask her to squeeze; she does, and when she's finished, she looks at me and says, "will you just hold my hands?"
"Well sure," I say slightly confused.
"My hands just feel so much calmer in yours." I sit next to her and hold her hands in mine, squeezing them every so often to see if I get a response. I'm not ready to leave her just yet.
"Did you black out when you fell?"
"No."
"Do you know why you fell?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"Because I'm drunk."
"Do you remember falling?"
"No," she admits with a sigh. "But I do remember you getting here, and I can tell you my last name and everything."
I ask Eric to call medical control to see if we can't treat this as implied consent, what with the alcohol consumption, and head injury with memory loss.
As he does, I talk to Wendy.
"Do you feel nauseous, dizzy or weak at all?"
"No," she says hesitantly.
"Are you lying to me to get me to go away?"
"I'm just tired." I don't like that answer, so I try to keep her awake.
"You know, if you don't let me take you to the hospital, I'm going to go back to the station and sit up all night worrying about you."
"I just want to sleep."
"So do I, but I won't be able to if I don't know you're okay."
"I'm okay. I promise I'm okay." She squeezes my hands as if to prove her point, and then she looks me straight in the eye. With a little crack in her voice, she says "I'm really sorry."
"Why sorry?"
"Because I fell, and I hit my head, and now you're here. And you shouldn't have to be here. This is my fault. And I'm drunk. And here you are, holding my hands and worrying about me. Don't worry about me."
"Let me take you to the hospital then."
"I don't want to go to the hospital."
Just then, Eric comes back.
"Doctor says that if she doesn't want to go and she's A&O x 3, then she doesn't have to." I look him in the eyes, begging him to call the doctor back and tell him something--anything--that will make him change his mind. I look to Drew for support, but he looks back at me helplessly.
"Wendy?"
"Yes Sam," she replies, obviously pleased with herself for remembering my name.
"You have to make me a promise."
"Sure."
"If you start to feel worse once we leave--and I mean worse in any way--you will call us back. If you get nauseous, dizzy, weak, or you just feel a little funny, you will call 911 and tell them to send us again."
"I promise."
"I'm not done," I say, and she laughs. I stare her down sternly, and she stops, looking back at me earnestly. "Tomorrow morning, you will go see your doctor and you will get that stitched up." She tears up a bit and nods.
"Okay. I promise."

As we leave, Eric sighs. "EMS is just a game of cover-your-ass," he says. "At least if something happens, it's not our fault."
"I don't care whose fault it is," I say through gritted teeth, "she needs to go to the hospital. If something happens, I will never stop beating myself up for not carrying her out to the medic over my shoulder." I look at my watch and see that it's 11pm. Longest scene time of my life.
I look up, but the eclipse is done.


[[So normally I don't ask for feedback, but I'd like to know your opinion. I believe that since she was intoxicated, she was not in her right mind, and even though she was "alert and oriented", she was still not in a state of mind to make decisions. Eric believes that since she could answer our questions, she had the right to refuse. We both agree that we covered ourselves legally by contacting medical control. But with our hindsight-goggles on, what should have happened? She didn't end up calling us back, so I assume that her friend who stayed the night made sure she was okay. Thoughts, feelings? I know that personally if it were my family member, and I weren't there when it happened, I would want the EMS personnel to call PD to get a temporary custody order. Anyway, let me know.

--Sam]]