A Knife called Envy

As we turned the corner the cop cruiser whipped around in front of us and flashed his directional bar light as if to say follow me. We knew it was going to be a legitimate trauma, as the cruiser turned the corner and pulled up on scene we were fifty yards behind rolling up to the cruiser when he jet further down as if to say there he is boys do your thing. My door opened as I called out on scene fighting through radio traffic, throwing my glasses on the dash I approach the screams and agony through a driving rain. In front of me stands a burdened woman in complete suffering. Drenched either from rain or her sorrowful tears the young woman weeps in misery. This early twenty's white female stands unable to control her frantic shaking. At my feet lays her man, my patient, with his legs over a guard rail and a bystander holding a towel on his shirtless torso. He's Limp and becoming ashen in front of my eyes, he's my age and laying in a puddle. Turning his head ever so slightly with his last gasp for air. Its as though I feel every drop of rain falling as time slows down. I remove the towel and see a non sucking chest wound just left of the sternum and one just under his left arm pit. The on lookers circling like vultures with their beady eyes gazing on my crew. A Sergeant from the Police approaches me and asks what I need, I gaze up through the driving rain and yell over the approaching sirens that I need these scavengers roosting on the railings and side walks gone. I stand to see my medic rounding the corner of the rig with his monitor in hand and the newbie in tow with the drug bag. I jump back to the rig and inform my medic in passing the locations of wounds. Grabbing the radio with my wet gloved hands I call out in an apathetic tone, "County and Control from Medic Two; Advise Trauma Two we have a traumatic arrest with two to three stab wounds to the chest; will advise once in route." I walk to the rear compartment of the rig to grab out the back board and collar bag, throwing them closer to the patient. Its no lie to say I felt no sorrow for this gang banger, though I still had a job to do. I grab the intabation kit from the inside cabinet and proceed back towards my medic. Opening the intabation kit and drug bag I prepare for a quick and systematic approach to the call.

Various other units have been arriving on scene from the Fire medics to the detectives. The street looking like a block party with rave lights bouncing off the buildings. The officers stringing the DO NOT ENTER yellow tape around the scene and various people receiving shiny linked bracelets There is no blood exiting the wounds, even if there were the driving rain would have washed it off his cold limp body. We are joined by two of the Fire Medics I would trust with my child's life, One an RN and the other an EMS instructor. The two of them and my medic use a tag team approach. My Medic Intabating, squatting in the puddle as to not get his pants soaked. The Nurse Medic throwing a large bore IV in the left AC, and the instructor Medic preparing the IO gun in the rig. I toss the prefilled Epi and Atropine to the RN medic and take the drug bag to the rig where I hang another thousand bag. I know only first round med's will be given before they move out of this rain, its cold dark and damp on the street. They secure to the body to the back board and throw it on the stretcher, wheeling it to the rig. Inside five providers pile and I close them in. Jumping in the drivers seat I put the rig in drive, kick the emergency lights on and head to Trauma Two. Just twelve minutes have elapsed since the initial dispatch.

I realize five additional occupants may seem like a little much but I wasn't wasting time to weed any out. We were only a few blocks from the highway on ramp which we jump on to head a village over. Slow and steady I proceed only topping out at 60mph. I have precious cargo, a back full of standing providers working there ass's off to save this man. Regardless of his social or economic background he is our patient and he will have every chance to survive we can give him. Slowing for the exit I hear the boys in the back quickly consult each other over the diminishing lung sounds. A Chest decompression is in order, preformed and quickly realize a shock is to follow. Pulling the rig over to a shoulder, I hear "3,2,1, Clear" and accelerate the rig back up to speed we are minutes away from Trauma two.

Arriving we hand off to the ER. having gotten him back momentarily we were hopeful. Only for all that hard work to come up short. Later we find out this was all over a girl...Not a good reason to loose a young life.

Be Safe
Ambulance Junkie