Life Is Fleet-ing

Being at the water rescue house has its perks some days. This year we were assigned to be part of Fleet Week. Several other agencies and ourselves were assigned to create the perimeter for the flyover zone in the bay, keeping any other vessel traffic out. Basically we formed a large rectangular floating blockade. It makes for a long 6 hours on the bay, basically station keeping (maneuvering the boat to stay put against the tide and current) and keeping vessel traffic moving in the transit lane. But it is absolutely the best seats in the house for that show.

 

The jets are flying right over you and less than 400 feet in front of the boat as they scream across the water. None of our pictures or videos do it justice but we were close enough to smell the jet fuel when they passed by.

And my god is an F18 Raptor LOUD!

At one point they brought out a 747 and had it banking turns around Angel Island and flying right over the GG Bridge. When that thing first made its turn over the bridge I just hoped that it was part of the show. Otherwise I was about to be intimately involved in what would undoubtedly be an infamous incident when a 747 crashed into Alcatraz.

I honestly don't know how people spend months at sea because 6 hours on the water in the sun is seriously tiring despite how much fun it was to take part.

So, after we got back to the station and cleaned up the boat, got everything back into service, and picked up some dinner I was really hoping for a quiet night.

But...
shortly after dinner we got a medical call. En route to the call we got the update that it was for a full code blue for a male in his mid forties.
Wait did they say 43?
Yep. They did.

We arrived to a frantic and distraught woman who pointed us to the living room where our patient was sprawled out over the ottoman. He was pulseless and not breathing. We moved him to the floor and went to work. His wife/girlfriend(?) was able to keep it together long enough to tell us that he had some kind of heart condition that had apparently already taken another of his family members about the same age a year before.

He was in asystole from the get go. We got the Lucas on for compressions, dropped an ariway and started breathing for him, I got an IV and started pushing meds. The ambulance arrived and went for
an ET tube. The ambulance medic got the tube and we had already run two rounds of meds and some just in case meds as well when the ambulance medic supervisor arrived. We had already decided to transport due to the patients age and the fact that he could be an organ donor. Normally a patient that is in asystole from the beginning gets cpr and three rounds of medication and if there is no change or improvement then we call it and declare a death in the field.

The supervisor agreed and we moved to the ambulance where I took over bagging the patient (rescue breathing for him). I had to move his head back to neutral and saw that there was  blood running from his mouth down into his ear. I told the ambulance medic and began to suction. My guess is that his tongue got nicked while putting in the tube. The tube was good still so it wasn't compromising our work. Just meant that I spent the rest of the ride bagging and suctioning out blood.

He was pronounced dead in the ER before we had restocked and left the parking lot.

The next morning we got on the boat and headed back out to the bay to watch jets and biplanes and 747s go screaming over our heads again. It's not quite as thrilling on day two but still really cool and maybe there was a just a little more appreciation for a beautiful day spent on the water as part of your work day.

(Missing Man formation)