Courtesy Shock

Asher
8 lbs, 3 oz. 21 inches

2/5/09

Delivery that is. Mrs. M3 is on a Vitamin P (pitocin) drip now. Will let you all know how it goes!

Silver Spring ambulance driver dies while transporting patient

by CHRIS A. COUROGEN, Of The Patriot-News

Wednesday February 04, 2009, 11:02 AM

A heart attack is believed to have been what killed a Silver Spring

Ambulance and Rescue driver and caused a crash that sent an emergency medical technician that was riding in the rig to the hospital.

Barry John Nagle, 66, of Mechanicsburg, was at the wheel of an ambulance that was transporting a patient around 2:28 this morning when he apparently suffered a fatal heart attack and crashed. George Weimer, of Silver Spring Twp., was injured in the crash. Weimer, an EMT and an officer with the ambulance company, was transported to Penn State Milton S. Hershey Medical Center, said Silver Spring Township Emergency Management Coordinator Jim Hall.

Nagle's death is believed to have been due to the heart attack, not from crash-related injuries. "All efforts were made to revive the driver," said Hall. Cardiopulmonary resuscitation and an automatic defibrillator were used without success.

The crash happened at mile post 59 northbound. The ambulance left the interstate and traveled almost 1,000 feet before striking a ditch and coming to rest. No details are available on Weimer's injuries, but Hall said he is expected top be hospitalized for several days. Three other passengers were uninjured.

According to Hall, the Silver Spring Ambulance had picked up a patient from the earlier crash involving another ambulance from out of the local area and was transporting that patient to the hospital when the accident occurred. The out of the area ambulance was carrying two nurses in addition to the patient.

State police have not released details of the first accident.

http://tinyurl.com/bckoyw

I'm in the middle of yet another Tx… This time taking a hospice pt home.

Makes me want to go home and hug my wife.

I really want to take the CCEMTP course. We’re trying to get one put on at work so that we can all do it(and make it required) plus make it cheaper. 

No–the baby hasn’t come… YET! But I have started another BLOG… I know, you’re thinking… “He can’t even keep this one updated!”… Well… You’re write. But I’m going to get better. I have worked more in the last month than I care to admit, so I will have many posts to follow here soon.

I have a new post up over at www.glutenfreedad.net so please check it out!

The day after Thanksgiving in 2007 my grandfather—my mother’s father—passed away after a battle with COPD, emphysema, and a myriad of other medical complications.

My grandpa was a good man. He had a heart of gold and loved seeing his grandkids—and great grandkids. He had a wicked sense of humor(just like grandma) and loved smiling and laughing. He could scowl and holler with the best of them, too.

He hated the cold. In the summer he would run the heat if you would let him. He wore long underwear whenever he could.

He had a love for chocolate covered cherries and Coca-Cola. Things I knew he’d never give up.

The horrors of working in EMS make it so that we often understand the reality of a loved one’s condition before the rest of our family does. Often times we are dealt the hand of explaining it.

An obstacle I hadn’t foreseen crossed my path this last week though… Last week during a transport of a Hospice Patient back to his home after his family decided to DC aggressive care and switch to palliative care, I knew I recognized the room number on my run sheet.

Right there, in the middle of the page, below Name, DOB and medical needs, it said “Pulmonary Unit  room 2242”.

I couldn’t figure out where I knew that room from. I thought about it the entire drive to the hospital. Maybe it was from my clinical times, or a previous tx.

As we got off on 2nd floor, heading for the pulmonary unit something started to click. I walked past the hallway where my Aunt Angie told me my grandpa had died—before we made it back.

As I rounded the last corner I passed the room where the doctors discussed palliative care with my Grandma and the rest of the family.

I passed a nurses station I knew all to well. I passed an ice machine where I got my grandpa Ice chips and I passed the waiting room where my family gathered together during the end of my Grandfather’s long journey.

Finally it clicked. My patient was in my grandpa’s room. I spent a lot of time in that little room over the course of just a few days. I KNEW that room. I KNEW that room in ways I wish I didn’t. As I saw his wife sitting in the chair, waiting, I got just a preview of the horror she was going through.

I guess I just hadn’t realized how much my life in EMS and my family life were going to intertwine. And NOW I work and soon live in the small town where I grew up—where my parents, and my friends parents, and tons of people I know live.

What did I get myself in to?

I miss you Grandpa. Godspeed.

Less than 1 month to go before baby makes his/her presence!

I can’t wait. Seriously. I have never been so anxious!

I’m sitting here waiting for the pager to go off and all I can think about is a tiny baby that is just weeks from coming into this world. That child–MY child brings me joy, and anxiety and feelings of love unknown to this father-to-be.

I know that I’m going to TRY to be a good father–but the reality still sits that I have to actually BE a good father. I am so very afraid that this life that I’ve chosen is going to lead to me missing out on more and more of my child(ren)’s lives. How do I balance this. I HAVE to make the money to pay the bills… But more importantly I HAVE to be there for this baby.

The thought of getting to finally meet this mini-me is both terrifying and calming–all at once. The world that we live in–the one that we work in–is fast. It is a hard and rugged world where everything is both impossible and dirty and mean. Yet, this little baby is going to be helpless–ever dependent on Mrs. Medic Three and I.

I’m not even sure that I’m terrified at all anymore… In reality, I’m anxious–because more than anything I want to take this baby home, and hold it, love it, raise it, and teach it to be better than me.

Be safe out there–Keep your chin up, your eyes open, and your feet steady.
Godspeed, Friends.

This post will be random, but thought out–yet completely out in left field at times. This post is about 123423 put together to be one, but then cut in 1/8ths…  We’ll see how far I can get.

First–This was my first Christmas working–ever. Fortunately my new small town service lets me have my wife here(and soon there will be family quarters with 2 bedrooms, a kitchenette and a living room with flat screen tv!) for most of the day. My Boss and his wife made Prime Rib roast for dindin, and my dad brought over some yummy turkey and fixins later in the night(while I was on a call…).

Today I had two calls–one Interfacility transfer, a psych from the VA to the Behavioral joint down the road. He was a very unhappy Schizophrenic man that thought I was the cop that brought him there. There wasn’t much sense in trying to convince him I wasn’t–when he knew that I WAS.

The second was a would be overdose that I may right about later. Ativan, abilify, zoloft and a megerie of other drugs made up the cocktail. Washed down with 3 or 12 beers.

She went unresponsive a few times and apneic twice. Nasal trumpet didn’t even elicit a painful response out of her…. but she would come back and tell me all about her day.

AD has a great post about "why we do what we do". I wanted to write more about it, and why I do what I do, but I have a post on it already…

Quoted below for good measure.

It’s not what I do. It’s who I AM.

"Every Day some little old lady, or young kid we transport asks the same question during my small-talk sessions with our patients… "so why do you want to do this? Why do you want to be a paramedic?"

Most of the time it’s a little hard to just mutter out a response that isn’t clichéd. The "I like helping people" response is pretty common.

But its a lot simpler than that. It’s who I am. It’s what I am. This is me. I’ve worked on political campaigns–big and small. I’ve spent nearly a year with a Congressman 3 foot away from me. Spent time with more Presidential candidates than you could imagine, more business moguls and old money.

But none of that matters. In the end, win or lose–and I’ve had both–it didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel anything like giving 23 minutes of comfort to a 79 year old woman who just knew she was going to die. She knew it. I couldn’t do anything for her. My med bag, my gear only does so much. But I know that for that 23 minutes she was in my truck, she was relaxed. I got her joking. We talked about her grandkids–her husband’s business, everything.

That is who I am.

I won’t get rich doing this. Unless you ask Marty.
The book linked above is a book that we were required to read in one of my more bogus classes in college. Some places use it for management and team building, some use it as a motivational tool. Most people read it because someone told them to take the time. Whatever way it is, it relates a lot to the world we live in. We are rarely thanked, often forgotten, and only appreciated when needed. But simple things can make it all worth while. Every now and then we get a save. More often than not, we spend time comforting friends and family. Remember–often everyone in the room is our patient–most of them need something we don’t carry in our trucks.

Compassion.

There are going to be countless times in my career that I will be called to act selflessly. I hope I hold true to that. I want to be able to go home at night, look my wife in the eyes and be proud of what I do. I will not turn into a lollipop!

It’s not what I DO. It’s who I AM."