So there I was, dismissing, our equivalent of, a county hospital after transporting, yet another patient with chronic inebria. Dismissing 8 minutes and my hip begins vibrating. Sadly it was not just another urge to break out in dance; it was my pager alerting me of a “Priority Fire Bariatric Request.” Of course, due to the urgent nature of the call, we were ready to roll within 2 minutes.
“AMB100. We’re available and ready for that call.”
“AMB100. This will be a bariatric request, priority with Suburban Fire Department Engine 16 to 13578 W Offhighway Street.”
“AMB100 received.”
I check my watch. Yes. Yes it is 1745. Prime rush-hour and we are in the center of Latte Meca. We are about to join, just shy of, 900,000 others attempting to exit the city. Without traffic, this drive would take the average individual about 25 minutes. Time to see how fast trusty ol’ Pequod can do it!
Now typically, I don’t mind these responses. We are a specialized unit even these overpaid (sometimes over-funded) fire departments don’t have. We are a regional resource utilized by all surrounding agencies and facilities. I figure if they’re willing to wait this long for us to respond, there obviously is no other way for this patient to be transported except by our ingeniously engineered equipment.
A little background: Pequod comes equipped with two 12 foot steel ramps, a 3000lbs winch, and an “extra wide” gurney that gives six additional inches of width. This specialized gurney is then equipped with, what is referred to from the manufacturer, a “tow package.” This “tow package” is a cable and steel “O” ring that is used to attach the gurney to the ambulance winch to “tow” our loaded gurney up the 12-foot ramps, into the ambulance. There are also additional grab handles that slide out the side of the gurney to allow for more individuals to have a more ergonomic lift or lower. To clear up any rumors or popular beliefs, we are NOT equipped with harpoons or anchors. Just seat belt extenders and extra bleach wipes.
Pequod flashes his lights, blares his siren, air-horns the tail end of cars. I, Ahab, utilize the PA to inform vehicles that pulling to the left shoulder, in front of my vehicle, into my path is not the proper procedure when you see the lights and hear the sirens. I do my best to make every opportunity a learning experience, if not for me, then for the less-skilled drivers of the region. We continue to move past cars, maneuver around drivers that choose to not move at all, slam on our brakes when distracted drivers see us at the last minute and dart in front of us, over the bridge, back to the shoulder, slam on the brakes to move back into traffic to get around each overpass column, and then the task of all tasks….cutting through traffic from the left shoulder to the far right shoulder to take the next exit with a parking lot of vehicles in our way also known as the Interstate. This requires a high level of skill, patience, and PA skills. Often requires giving specific instructions to each individual vehicle on the road. “White civic move forward! Blue pickup don’t move. Red jeep continue out of the way. Black mustang pull to the shoulder.” And alas we have made it to the right shoulder just in time to take the exit. Time for the urban assault. Pequod is ready! Overdrive off! Because we are not a public entity, we do not have our units equipped with the technology that changes traffic lights to allow us (and traffic blocking our path) the right of way that is a green light. Patiently crawling through red lights waiting for each lane of travel to come to a complete stop (because red and white strobe lights at dusk are not enough of a warning for some drivers). After hopping over center dividers and pushing through multiple arterial intersections, we arrive at our destination. I think…. I take a look at my pager again, “Priority Bariatric Fire.” Hmmm…I don’t see any fire apparatus. It is a very anti-climatic feeling after all the hustle, bustle, and white knuckle driving, we arrive to find a near-empty parking lot at an apartment building, no one out moving, very few lights on. I check my pager again and match up the address. This is the correct building…
“AMB100 we’re on scene, however, we don’t see fire on scene.”
“Received AMB100 on scene. I’ll call fire and see what I can find out.”
Being the optimistic person I am, I decide that there must be a fire engine and ladder truck hiding behind the building in the opposite parking lot. We’ll just tap on the front door, let ourselves in, and find 7 upbeat, excited, pro-active firefighters at the ready to assist us in moving the 650 pound patient that sits in bed to our gurney.
*knock knock* Check the door. It’s locked. Look through the front window. The lights are out. *KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!* Still nothing. Find an open window and yell inside, “BEST AMBULANCE SERVICE! ANYONE HERE?!” No response. With a less than optimistic attitude, I check the back parking lot. Around the corner….empty parking lot. That shiny ladder truck and fire engine I was anticipating earlier were not sitting where I had imagined them. In fact, they were nowhere on the scene. Back to ol’ Pequod.
“AMB100. Have you contacted fire?”
“Affirmative AMB100. Apparently they have cleared the scene and returned to quarters. They stated they would wait until you arrived and they would come back to assist you. They are on their way.”
“Ummm received. We will be waiting for their arrival.”
“Received AMB100.”
Ten minutes past and finally, that freshly washed fire engine I had pictured in my head, arrived on scene to assist as they promised. Responding routine of course. I am slowly realizing this call wasn’t as urgent as I had anticipated at the initial page back in the city. I step out to meet with the officer. I am fortunate enough to see the double silver bars on the firefighters uniform; I get to discuss this situation with the on-duty captain.
“Good evening, Captain. How are you, sir?”
“Good good.”
“Excellent. So we went ahead and walked up to the apartment. The door is locked, lights are off, and nobody is home.”
“WHAT?! No way! Apartment 5??!”
“Yessir. Apartment 5. The last one up here on the left, correct?”
“Yes! They’re gone??”
“It appears they are, but I’ll let you confirm that.”
I hear chuckles of the other firefighters behind me. The Captain explains to me that this patient was feeling very ill with some minor trouble breathing. This patient weighed approximately 500 pounds and when he wasn’t sick, was normally able to walk to the curb to meet the bus. This was a dialysis patient who most likely just needed a ride to dialysis to cleanse his blood of toxins; a natural body function that his failed kidneys could no longer accomplish. So Captain knocked and knocked, went to the open window, “SUBURBAN FIRE DEPARTMENT!!!” I wouldn’t describe him as panicked, but he was definitely walking with a purpose at this point. He further explains to me that he has NEVER left someone at home like this. This was the first time and he thought it would be okay because the patient wasn’t going to go anywhere.
Once the Captain is effectively satisfied that no one is home and exhausted all efforts to call anyone to the door, he concludes this large patient must have some how found the miraculous strength to get himself to the curb to take the bus to his appointment.
Me: “Well, sir. Hopefully that is where he went, and hopefully he makes it safely and the dialysis fixes his acute problems he was having today.”
“I never leave patients like this, I never have!”
“Well let us know if you need us. You know our number, sir.”
Firefighter: “Were you guys really at County General Hospital?”
Me: “Yessir. We were just dropping off another patient when we were dispatched and came immediately here.”
Firefighter: “Wow. Well thanks anyway.”
Me: “Have a great shift.”
“AMB100. We are clear of the scene. No patient contact. Patient is not home.”
“Uhhhh okay AMB100…..show…..you…… clear……”
He got away this time, but next time, we’ll be ready!
Of course this set us up perfectly for our next dialysis return call, further up north, that would hold us over 30 minutes beyond our off time.
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