ETOH and Another Bad Decision.

 The call came in just down the street from the station. We could see it from the apron. But just as we were getting on the rig, dispatch notified us that we would have to stage due to a male on scene arguing with the cops. We stayed put in the station and were only staged for a few minutes before we got the all clear.

We drove the two blocks up the street to where the three or four police cars, all with their code 3 lights on, were parked in the street. I pulled up and nosed in to one of the cop cars, opposing traffic, and hopped off the rig. After grabbing the airway bag I met one of the officers in front and she told me the patient was intoxicated and the boyfriend was being belligerent to them and doesn't want anyone touching her.

We made our way inside the business into what appeared to be a small private or maybe family party. On the ground was a young woman, clearly intoxicated, being supported by a man in his 20s I assumed. I knelt down to his level and calmly began asking him about what had happened, his name, her name, and pertinent medical information. My partner began to gather vitals (blood pressure, pulse, SPO2, and blood glucose). We made sure to explain in detail what we were going to do and essentially waiting for acknowledgement/permission from him before we did anything. He got riled up a couple of times as police moved into the doorway or even into the room. We calmly told him they were just there for our safety and were not going to do anything. 

I don't know what the latin translation is, but I always felt that I wanted a personal crest or tattoo in latin that says, "It never pays to be a dick.". Calmly talking to this gentlemen, explaining all of what was going to happen and why, kept him relatively reasonable, with the occasional verbal outburst at the police being the exception. The patient had one episode of vomiting while we were assessing her and perked up a bit after, as you usually do when you've gotten some of it out of your system.

The patient was non english speaking, and not really speaking at all until she threw up, so most of our interaction with her was by translator in the room or the boyfriend. I knew our next hurdle was coming as he began to explain that she feels better now and that they would just take her to the hospital. I had to explain that we couldn't do it that way at this point. That, now that 9-1-1 was called and she was intoxicated and deemed "unable to care for herself or make her own medical decisions" that we could not just walk away and that she needed to be transported to the hospital for further evaluation and treatment.

He said, " She's saying no. So, you can just rob her??". I thought in my head, no we aren't going to rob her, the word you are looking for is 'kidnap'. Obviously I didn't say that out loud. My partner and I both maintained a calm and quiet demeanor and explained that yes, we agree, this might be stupid but that we don't have a choice at this point and he seemed somewhat resigned to the idea now.

The ambulance pulled up and I stepped away to fill them in on the situation and the boyfriends issues, the legal issues of her being intoxicated and what we had already explained. It was a bls crew with one male and one female, which I thought was good and would probably prove useful. As we got her up and on to the gurney, the boyfriend stated that he wanted to ride in with her in the ambulance. Another delicate dance of explaining to him that he couldn't go with her (without saying because you're hammered and aggressive and dangersou!!) ensued. But there was a calm and resaonable female family member there and we all agreed that she could go with her and he seemed satisfied with that.

So...we got her loaded into the ambulance and another young man in a nice suit, who either showed up or was at the party and I hadn't noticed, came up and was thanking us profusely and, without actually using the words, apologizing for the other guy. He then asked if I knew another one of our firefighters and I said I did. He told me, "Tell him Hector says he sucks at soccer.", and laughed good naturedly,

The ambulance crew had the patient loaded up and my crew was putting equipment back on the rig while I was engaged with the man in the suit, and the police were all dispersing and driving away, when the boyfriend appeared and came up to me asking what hospital she was being taken to. I told him where they were headed and he demanded the address. I knew the cross streets but not the actual address (it was an overtime shift at a different station in a different city) but said I'd look it up. As I took out my phone to find the address for him he began to berate me for not knowing it already. The friend in the suit kept him calm and claimed the name calling etc was just messing around. Before I had the information on my phone the boyfriend had walked off again to get in a car and follow the ambulance, hopefully not driving,

I went back to the engine and drove the two and a half blocks back to the station. As I was pulling in, we heard a radio request from our ambulance crew asking for PD to return to the scene Code 3. Oh crap. My captain tried to raise them on the radio and got no answer. Dispatch tried to raise them and got no answer.

My firefighter went out on the apron and looked down the street and could see the ambulance there still with it's lights on but no activity he could see. My captain said let's go and I pulled out on the apron and the firefighter hopped back in. We hit the lights and drove back up, nosing into the ambulance and hopped out as we saw a couple of the cop cars down the road on their way back,

We went around to the back of the ambulance expecting/fearing to find a fight in progress or something along those lines. We were met by the female EMT who explained that they were still parked and doing their assessment, after we had all left, when the boyfriend had come back up to the ambulance. Now, in what I can only describe as inexperience or inattention or maybe just inability read the room...for whatever reason, the ambulance crew had decided to have the male emt in the back doing the assessment. Even though the female family member was in the back with them, this did not sit well, AT ALL, with the boyfriend when he saw what was happening. 

At that point he tried to push his way into the ambulance. I'm not exactly sure how they drove him off but the female EMT said they kept him back and he then took off.

The fear now was that he would go to the hospital and be waiting for the ambulance crew when they arrived. The crew was very appreciative of us coming back to help despite the police not having returned. We didn't mention the ill advised move of putting they guy in the back with the patient, but just said we were glad they were OK, and again returned to quarters, thankful we didn't end up in a fight or worse and thinking about the fact that my firefighter and I were both male and just did a full assessment on her too. Can't say that any reasoning in an alcohol fueled state is going to be sound of course,

Last Rides

My career has been full of firsts, new experiences, and unimagined scenarios. I've had the opportunity to take part in some really touching events and to be there for people in celebration and in mourning. Both are equally important, but they do not feel the same. In my capacity as a boat operator alone, I have done both.

A few years back, a good friend and colleague retired from the fire service. On his last day he wanted to go out on the bay on the rescue boat one last time. He was given permission to take the boat out of service and spend some time on the water (he was a leader in the water rescue program and set a high bar for seamanship within the organization). He didn't want to take a crew out of service to accomplish this and he didn't want to pilot the boat, he just wanted to enjoy being out on the water. He asked if I would come in and pilot the boat for him. I was off duty and my (soon to be) wife and I were spending the night in a hotel after a concert. I told him I would already be close by in the morning and would be honored to take him out.

That morning I arrived at the station and met up with him and just a couple others to go out on the water. No family, just him and a few firefighters. This was just for him to enjoy being with the guys and out doing what he loved and would miss most of all. It's what I enjoy too and I didn't hesitate to say yes and do this for him (and for me).

We did our usual tour of the bay and the bridges, not staying out too long but seeing the highlights of our area of operation and a bit beyond. A short cruise on a beautiful day and back to the station to return the boat. Definitely a nice memory for everyone and not anything that put me out or required any sacrifice at all. But it meant so much more to him than I realized at the time. He brings it up to this day, thanking me for coming in just to drive him around the bay for a couple of hours. I would have rearranged any plans I had to do it though, he is one of the finest human beings I have met. A few years before, he and I had pulled a father and daughter from the bay onto this very same boat after their boat had capsized. So, knowing what an impact that one last ride had on him just makes it that much more priceless a memory.

On the flip side, but as I said before - equally important, today I took another firefighter on a last ride of a much different kind. This time, I was on duty and the rescue boat was detailed to a special assignment to pick up the family of a firefighter we had lost last year and take them out to scatter his ashes at sea. This was a man I knew, not very well, but had worked with a handful of times. He always had a smile on his face and was engaging and would always ask about you and how you and the family were doing. His death hit close to home for a number of reasons, bringing issues of the toll this job can take on people to the forefront for a lot of us.

We met up with his wife, his son, and his parents at the marina along with the crew of a second boat who would lead the way for us. These were people I had never met and to add to the anonymity, we were all masked due to covid precautions. It was a surprisingly light hearted ride out, almost jovial. In this case, I was taking people who had never been on the bay like this, or passed under the bridges so they were excited by all the new sites and wildlife as well. We saw pelicans, seals, and even a porpoise on the way, which we perceived as a good sign. We took a long and circuitous route to try to keep in the calmest water possible. The last thing we wanted was for anyone to get sick or soaking wet or to be bounced around too much.

I had taken part in a very similar ceremony for my father in law the year before and knew the way to a pretty area where we could scatter the ashes if the water wasn't too rough. As we passed under the bridge, everything seemed to shift just a little: the mood, the water, the weather. Everything became a little bit darker and more somber. I brought the boat to what I felt would be the best location for us to do this and explained how best to scatter the ashes and maneuver the boat (as best I remembered from the year before).

His father asked to say a few celebratory words about his son and then recite a psalm before they began. When he had concluded he moved to the side of the boat and opened the first of the two jars they had brought and let the ashes go into the wind and sea as I steered the boat gently forward and arcing away from the shore. Next, his wife and son took up position along the side of the boat and repeated the ceremony with the second jar as I completed the arc, leaving the ashes in as close to a floating circle as ai could. This time, however, the scattering was followed by her slumping down, her head and arms resting on the boats sponson, the empty jar still open and held in her hand. We were all still for just a moment as her grief seemed to pour into the sea after him. After a moment, she straightened, and the first thing she did was thank us all for taking the time to do this for them.

Again, I would have rearranged whatever I had to do, and made myself available to do something like this if asked. But in reality, I was on duty, it was luck of the draw, so to speak. But it was an experience I won't ever forget either and I'm so glad we could be there for his family and make this happen for them.

Damn near the same ride, the highs and lows, grief and elation, celebration and mourning, and ultimately celebration again...paid or unpaid, by choice or by circumstance, these two rides sum up a career in the fire service pretty well, I think, and will undoubtedly stay with me forever.

It's Pronounced Frahnk-en-steen...

As these stories often seem to begin, I was working overtime at another station when this call went down. We were responding to a call for an unknown medical with an unknown age patient. What else is new? En route we got an update that the patients wife was calling because her husband had fallen in the other room but was behind the door, blocking it, so she couldn't get in. She stated that he was making snoring sounds earlier but now wasn't making any noise at all.

Yeah. That's not good.

On arrival we were met by a surprisingly calm older woman who relayed that same story to us again. I asked when this had occurred and she said at noon. It was now 12:25! Not sure why she waited so long to call but it didn't matter now. 

     

The next thing she said was that it was really "crowded" in the house. As we entered we realized what an understatement that was. It was a full on hoarder house with a strong smell of cat urine, even through our P-100 masks. A couple cats bounded out of the way as we went in. My firefighter was ahead of me and had the large airway bag on his back and the cardiac monitor in his hand. I was carrying the drug box and trying in vain to catch all the things he was knocking over as he tried to maneuver through the debris field and stacked towers of god knows what. I told him just to ditch the gear if he could find a spot because it wasn't going to make it through.

We reached the door and it was indeed blocked. Whether strictly by the patient or by an avalanche of possessions and garbage, we didn't know. We asked the wife if there was window to that room and she said yes and told us to follow her. She was still very calm and slow as she led us through the back of the house and outside. We found the window but it was locked and while the firefighter attempted to jimmy it loose I went back around the outside of the house to enter the front door again and see about forcing the bedroom door and get access to the patient.

My firefighter apparently had the same idea and abandoned the window but wound his way back through the house and was already pushing his way into the room when I got there. He was able to squeeze in and lift the patient enough that we could push the door open.

The patient then basically flopped half way out of the room landing at my feet. A quick check for pulse and breathing revealed what was already very obvious, that he was dead. He had a large purple shiner around one eye from a previous fall and just didn't look healthy...on top of being dead that is.

My captain asked if I wanted to work this call right there and I responded with an emphatic no. There was no room at all and it was awful everywhere. So, I grabbed his wrists and the firefighter grabbed his ankles and we worked our way through the mess to the front lawn. Outside, out of the corner of my eye, I saw an ambulance employee standing there; the first bit of good news. My captain said we should set him down in the shade to work and I said we should carry him straight to the gurney. I then realized that the guy on the lawn was an EMS supervisor and that the transport ambulance wasn't there yet. He had heard the call come in and was close by and thought it sounded serious. He was right and it turned out to be good news anyway because he was able to help out with initial treatment and speed things up.

Out on the lawn I did another pulse check and a check for rigor or lividity or any sign that would let us pronounce him dead and not have to work up this obviously futile resuscitation attempt. No such luck. So we put the automated cpr device on him and began rescue breathing with a bag valve mask. The supervisor applied the cardiac monitor while I made a long shot IV attempt. I had the sup set up for an IO in case the IV attempt failed, which it did. He was able to get an IO established in the humerus so we were good to go. Our first rhythm check showed the patient was in asystole, as expected.

The protocol for an asystolic arrest is to give three rounds of epinephrine, each ten minutes apart, and if no change after 30-40 minutes we can pronounce death in the field and discontinue resuscitation efforts. It was clear this was the route the call was going. I administered the first round of epi as the ambulance arrived and took over managing the patients airway and dropping in an et tube.

We all agreed that this was pretty much going to be a three rounds and out call and there were no other treatments to add to the protocol we were working with. I did ask one of the medics to check a blood sugar for me just to rule it out. Turns out his sugar was very high, in the 400s, despite us being told he was not diabetic. This didn't change the course of treatment though may have been indicative of a metabolic reason for the arrest.

At the next rhythm check there was some electrical activity on the heart monitor but no pulse (pulseless electrical activity or PEA). Still no change in treatment and that can often happen as a side effect of the medications we were giving. We call them Epi beats. They say with enough epi you can get electical activity from a rock. After ten minutes I administered the second dose of Epi. It's always an odd part of the code when the machine is doing most of the work, all procedures are in place, and you have ten minutes until you can give the next drug. It seems like an eternity of standing around doing nothing. I went ahead and drew up the next dose of Epi for when the ten minutes was up.

But...

After another two minutes of cpr we paused for the next rhythm and pulse check. To all of our surprise, the medic said, "I've got a pulse." 

What?!?

The monitor confirmed a consistent sinus rhythm tracking with the pulse he was feeling. The patient still was not breathing on his own so the rescue breathing continued as we slid him onto a tarp and moved him to the gurney to head to the hospital. 

I jumped on board as a rider and took over rescue breathing. A reassessment of vitals showed a strong regular pulse, a more than sufficient blood pressure, and (probably due to the amount of fluid we'd given through the IO) a blood sugar now in the high 200s. It was about a ten minute ride to the hospital during which there was nothing to do but monitor the patient and breathe for him. The ambulance medic and I both marveled at the turn of events and how neither of us thought this call was going in this direction at any point.

The patient was delivered to the ER and their staff took over from there. He still had a good blood pressure and pulses but was still not breathing on his own. Based on the 20 plus minute downtime I wouldn't expect him to come out of this neurologically intact and if he does survive he's going back to that hoarder house which is no place to be cared for or to recuperate and get healthy. But, we did our job and executed all of our procedures pretty seamlessly, worked well as a team, and essentially re-animated the dead (for a little while at least). 

I doubt I will find out what the ultimate outcome ends up being for this patient and whether his resuscitation will have turned out to be a good thing or a bad thing. But it's always interesting to see the protocols and procedures work as intended and (for good or bad) be able to restart a heart, especially without defibrillation. It certainly changes the tone of the resuscitation in the end as well.

I'll Tumble For Ya

As my station is one of the water rescue houses, in addition to the dispatch radio, we monitor the coast guard radio. This radio is down the hall at the other end of the station so sometimes we just hear snippets of broadcasts or static filled conversations.

Today I heard what sounded like a frantic young woman's voice coming over the radio but couldn't tell what was being said. I went down the hall and turned up the coast guard radio so I could copy down the traffic and see if we had a water rescue on our hands. To my surprise the voice came over the dispatch radio repeating the same message and still with a distinct sense of urgency, "medic 4752, we've been t-boned in the intersection of Lewis and Howard and the ambulance flipped on its side".

Wow, an ambulance struck in an intersection and sent flying? I hope no one was in it.

                               

I called out to the crew, "Holy crap! Are you guys hearing this?". I got no response so I walked down to the kitchen to fill them in. As I got some distance from the radio I heard one of our other rigs asking dispatch if that was the ambulance that just left with their patient. I didn't yet know the importance of that question.

In the kitchen I filled the crew in on what I'd heard and we grabbed a portable radio to listen in on the call via the tac channel. Our crews had a quick response and we started hearing odd bits of radio traffic, "Engine 44 we have your firefighter on our tailboard". We listened for a while, but there wasn't much info coming over the radio and it sounded like, whatever the call was, it was winding down despite multiple patients being transported.

But then info started to trickle in via texts and radio and other sources that one of our guys had been riding in to the hospital with the ambulance and was hurt in the crash.  This brought the portent of the previous radio traffic asking which ambulance it was into clear understanding. That must have been a horrible feeling for that captain as he realized what had happened. Those two crews who were on the initial medical call were the first ones to respond to the crash. I can only imagine what that long three minute ride must have been like for them.

Then the tones went off in our station and we were dispatched to that same intersection.
What?
We were then informed that we were needed to stand by in place of the original engine until the investigation and clean up was done at the scene. The crews who performed the extrication and rescue of all involved in the wreck were headed off to a CISD (critical incident stress debriefing) to make sure they were doing okay.

The scene was a mess still and we still didn't have all the information about what exactly had happened. Analyzing the accident scene, looking at the vehicles, and talking to the chiefs on scene we started to piece it all together:

Initially, Engine 44 and our rescue unit had responded to a code blue (cardiac arrest). When they arrived they found family members giving cpr to an elderly patient. They took over cpr, started an IV, and gave a couple of rounds of meds and ended up getting pulses back at some point (or so I believe but can't confirm). I don't know if the patient was breathing on their own or not but I understand that their heart was possibly beating. They loaded the patient into the ambulance and took one of the firemen with them for assistance en route to the hospital.

They were headed down a major street on the way to the freeway and were crossing a large intersection when they were struck on the passenger side by a car who continued through the intersection. Witness reports state that the ambulance had lights and sirens going and that while other vehicles pulled over this car sped up to try to make it through. The investigation, traffic cams, and the black box from the ambulance will eventually tell the whole story but it sounds like the ambulance was doing the right thing. I certainly hope so.

The force of the impact and the top heavy nature of the ambulance sent it over on its side and sliding across the intersection. The driver was trapped but conscious and able to radio in the accident and their exact position. That got our crews moving and to the scene quickly.
In the meantime a rush of bystanders flocked to the ambulance to try and help get people out. The drivers door was on the ground and the back doors jammed. Our firefighter (with what we later learned were two broken ribs and a large gash to his head) was able to climb out the side door which was now the roof. No access could be made back into the ambulance and he wound up rendering medical care to the driver of the car that had hit them.

From the look of the ambulance when we arrived I guessed that when the fire crews got on scene they cut the windshield out of the ambulance to get to the driver and used the rescue tools (jaws of life) to pry open the rear doors and get the other medic and the patient out. The patient did not survive (assuming they was alive in the first place). Both ambulance crew members had only minor injuries thankfully and our firefighter had moderate but non life threatening injuries and was patched up and released from the hospital pretty quickly. We were told he was in good spirits and doing well shortly after. Adrenaline is an amazing thing.

We remained on scene through the entire investigation (which took a couple of hours) and the righting of the ambulance (which was impressive in its own right - no pun intended) and removal of both vehicles from the roadway. Even seeing what we could inside the ambulance from where our engine was parked you could see what a nightmare it must have been. The gurney had broken loose from its mount and was upside down, equipment was thrown about everywhere (oxygen bottles, two heavy cardiac monitors, etc). It's incredible that the crews weren't hurt worse. And of course there was no way to continue life saving measures on the original patient until the extrication was done and I'm sure at that point it was too late. The question remains if the patient died because of the crash or from her original heart failure. That will become an important legal question and this mess is not likely to go away anytime soon. The investigation and lawsuits could be intense.

The poise and control of all the emergency crews was certainly impressive and they should all be commended. I'm glad they sent the responding engines to a CISD after. Given the nature of these guys and the fact that our firefighter was okay I doubt any of them went home after and they probably continued to work and do their jobs but I'm glad they all had an opportunity to talk about it and were given the option to take care of themselves as well. It could be that the department would send them home anyway, which I believe would be advisable.

Definitely a shit show and one we will hear much more about in the coming months I have no doubt.

PSA: If you see an emergency vehicle with lights and/or sirens on pull to the right and come to a complete stop. If you see other vehicles pulling over to the right and stopping and don't yet see or hear the emergency vehicle...still pull to the right and come to a complete stop. Thank you.

Fire Family

There is no question that emergency personnel see a lot of horrible things. I certainly have a handful of calls and images that will never leave my head. Although I also have plenty of good ones too. We see people often on their very worst day. One of the ways we cope with that is knowing that we are the helpers. We are the ones who are trying to make it better or easier and most of the time we succeed, even if not to the level we aspire to. Even when the outcome isn't what we hoped for we know that we gave it all we could and in the aftermath continued to help in whatever way we can.

But it's not just the ones who call 9-1-1 that we see go through awful events in their lives, it's each other. Unlike any other job we live with our coworkers. A third of our lives are spent together. Our lives are often shared on a level that most won't experience in their jobs. I've seen countless divorces (including my own). I've seen guys lose spouses, parents, and even children. I've seen guys burnout and guys muster up the courage to go through rehab. I've seen guys battle cancer (including my own to a degree); I've seen guys lose that battle too. I've seen guys struggle with injuries (my own included here too) and fight to recover and come back from them. I've seen guys retired out early due to injury wonder what they will do now.

What I've never seen in my career is someone not being supported in whatever they are going through. If an effort is made to reach out for help, someone will be there to grab that hand. Guaranteed. You just have to be able to ask which may be the hardest task we will ever undertake.

The fire service is called a family and we refer to each other as brothers and sisters. And though I may not be close enough to a lot of people to mean that with all of it's literal sincerity, there are some I hold that dear. But in a time of crisis, those labels hold true, for all of us.

The issue of mental health, emotional fatigue, and ptsd in the fire service has become a much bigger topic in the last several years. In my career we have always had the option of CISD (critical incident stress debriefing) after harrowing calls if it's needed. But again, being the one to say they need help or something extra is very hard to do. Suicide rates amongst emergency service personnel are very much on the rise. But even that still seems abstract...until it hits close to home. I know the stats. I understand the whys. But I didn't know how it would feel, the questions it would raise, the hole it would leave.

Brothers. Sisters. Family.

We share a good portion of our lives, but you can never really know what someone is going through inside. No matter how close you are.
So, how do you help? That's what we do, what we chose to do with our lives, and what we want to do, help. I don't have an answer to that question unfortunately. Other than continue to check in with each other. Always say you're there to help if needed. I think we all know it, but actually say it. The more a thing is repeated the more it becomes cemented in our brain. And the simple act of caring, reaching out, can make a huge difference.

I once had a member call me out of the blue to let me know he was available to me if I needed anything because he'd heard I was going through a rough time. That's amazing. It turns out he had me and another guy mixed up but it didn't matter, I still felt so grateful that he took the time to reach out and would have been there for me if I did need help. And I know now that if I ever need to I can go to him with anything. Experiencing that in a time when I may not have needed it, as opposed to mid-crisis, boosted my spirits immensely just knowing that support was available.

I want to express my deepest thanks and admiration to all those in my department who have gone through the CISD training, peer counseling training, grief support training, our chaplains, or anyone who puts themselves out there as a go to for anyone who feels that they are struggling. Your services and time may be invaluable, so thank you.

And to anyone who is struggling please remember that you can come to ANY of us at anytime. Fire stations are staffed 24/7, you can always reach someone. And you are welcome to call me or anyone else at anytime and we will do everything we can to assist you.

You are family.

Hustle

So this post isn't really about firefighting. It's just about go getters, customer service, and a positive attitude.

I was working overtime the other day in a different district than my own. The captain was on overtime too so we decided to eat out and try a new place neither of us had been to before.
We pulled up in front of the place and noticed that there was a pretty decent line inside. We figured we'd give it a shot anyway.  The line was almost out the door and we just fit inside with the doors at our back. The place seemed pretty hoppin' which was a good sign. We got a couple "Oh hellooo firemaaan" from the ladies in front of us as they primped their hair (directed at my captain and young firefighter no doubt) and I saw my captain waving off one of the workers behind the counter. A young man with a great big smile and a lot of great energy had signaled to him to see if he could just get our order going. We had no issue with waiting in line so politely declined. As we got closer to the register the ladies in front of us offered to let us go ahead as well and we again declined. We began chatting with the young man behind the counter about how it seemed busy.
"You think this is busy?1? Oh it gets way more hoppin' than this."
We chatted a bit about the nature of having to bail on food or shopping or meals in our job and just as we stepped up to the register to order we got toned out for a medical call.
We waved and bailed out of line and headed out to the medical.

After the call we debated going back and having to wait in line again but decided to give it another try. As we parked in front of the place we noticed the line was out the door this time. We decided to stick it out and had just gotten off the rig when we got banged out for a structure fire. We grabbed our gear, changed real quick, and leapt back on the engine. As we were pulling out I saw the young man with a clipboard in his hand coming out of the restaurant and calling to us. I think he was offering to take a to-go order for us. There was no time to wait though and we pulled out with lights and sirens to the fire.

The fire was in the next district over and when we were just about a block away from the scene we got cancelled by the first due company. It was just an outside fire pit. False alarm.

Decision time.

Do we try one more time or get out of dodge and back closer to our home station and grab something there? Or do we head back again? To my surprise the captain said let's give it one more shot. So we returned, got out of our gear, and headed over.
This time as we were crossing the parking lot to get in line the young man was waiting for us out in front with his clipboard ready.
"Third time's the charm!" I called out to him.
"Oh yes sir, it is. What can I get for you gentlemen?", he said with that big smile.

We placed our order and he ran it inside, brought us our drink cups and made sure we were taken care of. When my captain came back from paying he told me the kid had given him a big discount which he tried to refuse. He wound up putting about $25 in the tip jar instead and told the kid if he was ever interested in the fire service to come see us. He said, "Oh most definitely!"

We got our food and got back on the rig talking about how that kid was going to be going places and how you just don't see that kind of hustle, attitude, and joy in the workplace much anymore.
We were driving away and had got about a block from the restaurant when the captain said "Wait. Wait. Hold up!" We stopped the rig and I could see him looking back out the window and I figured something had happened or we were getting flagged down by somebody on the street. That's when I saw the kid running down the street after us calling out to us that he forgot one of our sandwiches in the bag!
He chased the fire engine down for a block and a half!!

We pulled into a parking lot and the captain walked back with him to the restaurant and got his food.
He returned even more impressed.

Needless to say we were all duly impressed. We need more of that guy in the world.

Dressed For Success

Let's revisit, for a minute that "does anybody really care what we wear" debate that comes up all the time regarding uniform policies. This tour, I responded to two separate calls in a wetsuit.

 

We were out for our weekly rescue boat training and just as we were about to launch, a medical call came in that we were in the best position to take. We had driven the engine down with us in addition to the boat so we were able to respond, but I was dressed to swim with wildland pants over my springsuit and I wasn't going to take the time to change.

The call turned out to be for a woman on the grounds of the adult school who was sans pants and masturbating in public. Hooray. When we arrived we found a woman, fully clothed, walking across the lawn who then proceeded to lie down right where she was when she saw us coming. We approached and made contact with the patient who said she was here with her father. The only man in sight was sitting at the picnic table about fifty feet away. He looked to be about twenty years younger than her so I assumed she was making that part up. The man then got up, approached us, and identified himself as her father. Turns out she was just so haggard from hard living that she looked worn far far far beyond her years. She had no medical needs and her father agreed to take her home for the day, reign her in, and keep her out of trouble. This seemed like the best solution so we were able to leave it at that.

We returned to the dock and did our boat thing for a while. We ended the training session with some victim removal exercises with me being pulled repeatedly from the water into the boat.

As soon as we were done and got back on shore we got toned out for another medical call. I threw my wildland pants back on and off we went, this time with a decidedly still wet wetsuit on underneath.

This time we responded to one of the most stubborn diabetic patients ever. Well one of them anyway. The patient was alert and oriented but with a very high blood sugar and a couple other issues going on as well.  They flat out adamantly refused to go to the hospital. Family had called 9-1-1 not the patient. Now low blood sugar is something we can treat in the field. High blood sugar requires the hospital. We could not force this person to go to the hospital or by ambulance but the family was very insistent. We stayed on scene for quite some time attempting to reason with the patient and offer all sorts of options, deals, etcetera to get them to go. All this while I slowly soaked through my shirt and pants. No one seemed to notice or care (or at least they didn't say anything) being too preoccupied with the frustrating situation at hand.

So, I am still inclined to say that, all in all, it doesn't matter what we wear on calls as long as it's the right gear for the job and we still look and behave professionally.

It just so happened that we ended the night by responding to a sheared hydrant with no shut off to be found anywhere and I wound up thoroughly soaked again by the geyser of water flowing from this thing. Kind of wish I'd been in a wetsuit then instead of turnouts.