I believe I may secretly have unusual mental abilities...

AND IT'S DONE! The latest round is over...

As predicted, I'm a geek - blogging from an internet cafe in beautiful Sydney. I'll rant a little about Sydney today and the test details will come on Saturday.

So Sydney is a nice place, the weather is beautiful (although not as rainy as I would perhaps like...) and the people are... well, everywhere. Someone else has commented and I agree totally that Sydney is like the rush of Melbourne combined with the feeling of the Gold Coast. There's people everywhere doing everything, which is actually pretty cool - but there are of course a few downsides to all this...

Firstly, can everyone from Sydney please just slow down when driving? You're all insane. All of you. Bus, don't cut off the car I'm in please - you're bigger than our car but that doesn't mean you instantly have right of way. And for some reason they decided to print the speed limits on the road, as opposed to on signs lining the street... An interesting move, given everyone drives so damn close together (despite whatever speed they may be traveling at) that you never get to actually see it.

Also, cabbies here are pretty cool - I've had four dealings with them and three were quite positive. The first guy added extra money to the charge without telling me then didn't give me a receipt (I decided not to say anything, it was only a few dollars and I justed wanted to get back onto safe ground), but the next guy yelled directions across from another car to us when we got lost (a friend was driving) then indicated when we needed to turn off by driving in front of us and pseudo-indicating. Legend. The next one took me on a rather neat short cut that saved me $5 and finally another took me back where I needed to be despite not having a proper address... I just described the place and he knew it.

Accommodation is pretty expensive and I'm getting a little nervous about how I will afford living here, but I'm sure I'll work that out as I go along. The Ambulance HQ is located in a pretty good spot that's easy to get to, so I can live pretty much anywhere (ie, the cheaper outskirts of the city) which is lucky.

Well my time is running out so I'll finish up here - more details on Saturday!

T-minus 24 hours and counting

I'll post today because I think tomorrow might be too busy - but tomorrow I'll be flying to Sydney for the next round of Paramedics Intake Testing - Psychometric Analysis/Aptitude Testing to be held on Thursday.

The thing is long. One of my Paramedic friends jokingly put it; "If you FINISH the test... you pretty much get a job, because its long as f**k!!"

I think the aim is to see who has the stamina required to sit in a truck for hours on end by making us sit at a desk for countless hours asking questions that assess our ideas of right and wrong. I've been pre-warned not to circle 'Yes' to 'Do you hear voices?'. Thanks. I'll be sure to post what it was like as soon as I get back (or sooner, depending on how geeky I want to be in Sydney) on Saturday after I'm done testing, checking out accommodation and catching up with family who live there.

So here goes nothing... Wish me luck!

One reason why I'm happy I'm leaving research right now...

It's 10pm. Apart from two hours off since dinner, I've been here since 8am.

I'm currently sitting here, waiting for a phone call. Our Liquid Nitrogen tank which we use to cryogenically store cell lines, biological samples and other less stable compounds has run out of liquid nitrogen. This means it's slowly approaching room temperature, which if it does means we lose thousands of dollars worth of samples, not to mention the countless hours (read: months if not years) of time taken not only to prepare those samples or their experiments, but to perform various analysis and calibrations required for each sample batch we receive in order to be able to standardise our experiments.

I've already called the emergency contact for such emergencies, who told me there basically wasn't much he could do. The other contact's phone is off. My lab heads phone is off. So I'm waiting for engineering to call back, but again I doubt there is much they can do.

Worse comes to worse I'll spend the rest of the night transferring samples from the big tank (oh, it's big) to several of the -80 freezers (which is warmer than liquid nitrogen, so may still impact on samples) unless I manage to get access to the upstairs liquid nitrogen tank. Best case scenario I'm told the tank will hold temperature till morning when a new tank of LN2 is supposed to arrive.


Either way, I don't see myself getting home (in particular to bed) for at least another few hours, and I have to be in again at 8am. I guess I could look at this as training for the long hours of Paramedicine, but truth be told even they'd sympathise with a (I don't want to count) hour day.

What is wrong with you?

Sometimes we get cases that we just know are wasting our time.

It might be that you can still move the fingers you just 'dislocated', that the throwing up has nothing to do with the eight bottles of beer you just finished and must be due to internal bleeding (despite the lack of blood) and your obvious soberness. It might even be that you've just 'fainted'.

It's a funny thing, fainting. You see, we have these little things called oropharyngeal airways, which for unconscious patients just slide right in. Fits like a glove (providing of course you use the right size oropharyngeal airway). Unless of course you are (and of course you are not) faking - in which case you will gag and cough up the airway the second it's in - a natural and almost invariably an irrepressible response. Oh, we know what's going on now - but we have to play along with your little game because there's not much else we can do. This seems to be a popular activity for teeny-boppers when that young boy comes out on stage wearing almost more make up than said 'boppers...

But then there's the other cases, where the patient is just plain stupid. They profess that they wish to become a neurosurgeon (despite a distinct hate of all and any education establishments) so that they can perform brain surgery on themselves. I'm not making this up, I've had someone tell me this. And then there was a youth with severe stomach cramps after a two week binge on junk food and alcohol...

While the last two examples had patients who were there for genuine reasons (the first was there for reasons other than brain surgery), you still feel like your wasting your time - that Darwin determined long ago they should be left to nature. Of course we still treat them like any other patient who comes for help - but its these patients who treat that little bit faster so as to get them out the door, away so they cannot accost your ear drums with their taint. You feel that little stupor that comes with not using your brain for an extended period of time after dealing with these patients, and I at least get a little angry (but of course don't show it!) at their sheer ignorance of what the world is really like.

I like to think I treat all patients equally, but even I must admit I get on better and do that little bit extra for the patients you think are really worth treating - worth our time.

Keep the tip

Over the weekend a bunch of high school friends and I got together again for the first time in a long time. It was great to see everyone, but I had to travel quite a distance back out there as I've done a bit of moving since graduating. Unfortunately, only half of the people we were expecting turned up, and from them only half the people could really stick around for the full time - however one of the people leaving was leaving for work a few restaurants down from where we were.

So we tagged along :D

It was a great night of catching up, with plans to get the full gang together again soon (damn pikers ;P). At the second restaurant for the night we grabbed some dessert and were entertainingly served by our friend (who, after a few jokes from the gang I'm scared we almost got fired - sorry!).

So where does this blog come into all of this? As we went to pay for the dessert, my friend tells me (rather sheepishly) that one of the kitchen staff had an 'accident' in the kitchen. With a knife. And their fingertip. Well, an ex-fingertip.

Kitchen staff are notorious for these kinds of injuries, so I thought they'd probably know what to do, but offered to have a look at it anyway - which was kindly accepted. On my way in I PPE'd up from my belt pouch much to the amusement of my friends. The injury was fairly minor, she had taken the tip of her finger off but had left little skin remaining - they had found the tip from the floor but the likelihood of re-attachment was low given the size. The main concern was the bleeding, as she kept removing the paper towel they had over the finger to 'show everyone'. This has the lovely effect of removing any clots that may have formed to stop the bleeding, the end result making the wound appear much worse than it is and increasing the time taken for a proper clot to form.

After asking for one more show so I could assess, I got a knuckle bandaid and used the non-adhesive dressing over the tip and told her to keep pressure on it, put some wrapped up ice around the finger to reduce blood flow, told her to keep the hand elevated and do not use the hand - at all. She would have to go to A&E; best case to do a proper clean and cover, worst case to get a skin graft to cover the tip to let it heal properly. She had taken a fair chunk off the tip... After a bit of chit chat they worked out it was best to get a private car to the hospital and so I left them be to return to my friends.

One thing my friends and kitchen staff commented on was the gloves. They asked if I always carried them (to which the answer was yes) and why (to which the answer is you never know when you'll need them). A pair of gloves are a wondrous thing to have on your person at all times - they make great ice bags, let you pick up undesirables and other assorted fun items and, occasionally, can be used for first aid. For this reason and others I always carry my belt pouch regardless of where I'm going and I'm finding time and time again how valuable the little bugger is. $15 is a small investment for piece of mind.

I'll have to remember to check how the finger went and what A&E did, depending if they mind or not I'll throw the update in here. I think the hardest part of this job was resisting the urge to make the plethora of rather poor jokes that were running through my head at the time - although I am afraid to say one or two snuck out.

Read the post title one more time - and let that sigh/giggle out ;)

Look after yourself (aka almonds)

It was nine o'clock on a Saturday, the regular crowd shuffles in. There was a young man brought in to me, with the stench of tonic and gin... Ok, well it was actually more of a beer smell and from memory it was a Tuesday, but let's call it artistic license.

At first he refused treatment but said he wanted water and a sit down, he was dehydrated. This is far too common at concerts like the one we were at, as we were situated right next to the stage and provided one of the best places to watch the show from. Perks of the job on quiet nights. This had all happened while I was at another post and the crew there were happy to just let him be for a bit.

After a while I moved to this post to help even out the crew numbers around the event and I was introduced to this lovely fellow with a 'I'm all right, f*** off.' I asked the intercepting crew member why he was there, as I'm a firm believer that despite our rather well placed post the spot should be reserved for casualties, and while I'm happy to have people sit down for a few minutes and get re-hydrated, the last thing I want is for the post to become a perch for the lazy and unscrupulous.

I returned to the gentleman who, for the record, was pleased to make my acquaintance again which is when I decided to inform him he would have to move on if he was 'f***ing alright', to which he suddenly remembered some wounds he had. Thinking he was just stalling (the concert was quickly nearing its end) I asked him to tell me about his wounds when a rather interesting story ensued.

He had been motorcycle riding in Country A before deciding to get even closer to the countryside by coming off the bike at high speed and spraying himself along the roadside. He had been taken to a local hospital and his wounds (which were fairly minor given the accident) were stitched, dressed and he was sent on his way. He returned back to Australia a week later and, being bored one night decided to remove his stitches with his hands and a pair of kitchen scissors. He also redressed his wounds which he thought at the time 'looked like s***'. A shining star of Australian upper class culture, this boy. I was tempted to ask if they smelled of almonds...

After a little negotiation I convinced him to let me have a quick look at his wounds, as two days had passed since his self-redressing and I was beginning to suspect they had become infected. As he removed the covering over his elbows and legs, I realised how right I was - every wound was in various stages of infection. None were what I would consider life threatening, but they would certainly require a hefty dose of antibiotics. With his new found consent, I cleaned and redressed the wounds in sterile non-stick dressings and tried to convince him to see his GP in the morning (he had already refused going to A&E), even writing up an OB11 (one of our casualty report forms) that he could take with his doctor.

Now I knew that the doctor wouldn't care less about the OB11 and that it was obvious what needed to be done, but I like to hope if nothing else it would serve as a reminder to the man to at least see his GP. He was under the influence and I wasn't too certain how much of the night he would remember, so an official looking piece of paper with 'Ambulance' written on would hopefully leave an impression on him.

The thing I didn't understand about this casualty was that he must have been in pain from the infection, even after recognising the wounds weren't quite happy it took two days and a person to tell him to leave a first aid post before he did anything about it. He wasn't about to lose his legs just yet, but infection is a serious problem that can cause major complications if left untreated. The common thought of 'If I ignore it it will get better' just isn't going to cut it in this situation, and you tend to look decidedly less macho when the doctor tells you of his plans to amputate.

At the end of the day, the only person who is really going to look after you is yourself. So make sure you take responsibility for yourself - otherwise you might be getting a visit from our friends in the shiny vans with lights on top.

The Helper

While I'm doing the little rant at patients, I thought there was someone else worth a mention.

The Helper.

I'm not talking about First Aid, or a Doctor or Nurse (or Paramedic!) who is there helping out - I'm talking about the friend(s)/family of the patient who do nothing but get in the way, distract you from treating and generally make a nuisance of themselves. While I'll admit they can play a vital role in maintaining the support of the patient, more often than not they end up doing the exact opposite. Here's a few stories of what I've encountered so far.

I was at a local event and, for reasons I won't go into, had to move a patient via stretcher. I had another member there but the patient was quite rotund (patient to stretcher ratio of about 1.6). Luckily we had security nearby but, as I thought at the time, luckier still a member of the public had stepped forward, informed us he was a doctor and would lend a hand for the move.

I thought our doctor was a little clumsy with the stretcher, but didn't think too much of it given St John are known to use some older models (read: discounted) and it was most likely a while since he had used one anyway if he was a GP. After getting our patient to a First Aid post and a handover completed, I thanked our friend and chatted a bit (you might notice we tend to do this a lot). I asked where our Doctor worked, to which he replied Hospital A. I followed the usual routine of asking his specialty to which he replies 'Oh, I'm not that kind of Doctor. I'm an epidemiologist.' Our Doctor was not in fact a medical doctor and actually knew almost nothing about treating patients. He was a numbers doctor. I know the patient just needed to be transported, but boy did I let him have it... I haven't been quick to trust the 'help' from the public since, regardless of what they say they do.

The next case comes from a concert where a young man sustained a minor injury but needed observations at a post just to be on the safe side. We moved him over and a friend of the patient tagged along. Along the way I continued to ask our patient questions, to which the friend kept answering. Things like 'Where does it hurt', 'On a scale of 1 to 10' and 'Did you notice anything when you fell?' were all answered initially by the friend until I cut them off and asked the patient to answer. To make things worse, the friend decided to continually spice things up by attempting to use anatomical terms and medical abbreviations which were either completely wrong, mispronounced or physically impossible. I'm yet to find the clavicle in someone's knee - but I haven't given up yet.

Moral of this story? We understand that you're trying to help - but when we ask the patient a question, we'd like the patient - and unless they're unconscious or have omitted a major detail only the patient to answer.

The last story I'll mention goes back to one of my very early duties where a young girl and her mother were brought into First Aid, where we quickly discovered the mother spoke not a single word of English and relied on her daughter to translate. It was obvious the daughter was used to this arrangement and for a 12 year old was very mature about the entire thing. While the actual problem was rather minor but a little embarrassing, I was sure I could have it sorted out in no time. That was, at least, until the rest of the family arrived.

Around 12 of them poured into the very small post and were yelling at each other in order to try to gain the most attention. I think that's what happened at least, because none of them spoke English except for our aforementioned 12 year old. After trying myself to get their attention (which they politely ignored) I turned to the girl to find out at least what on earth they were arguing about. After much hand waving and more than a little pushing back out of the room, I got the girl to tell them to wait outside unless something was also wrong with them or unless they had something very important to tell me - but that other than that they would have to leave us alone for a few minutes. As predicted, the actual problem was solved very quickly and they were both out the door before the rest of the family could storm the room once more.

The final moral of today is this - even if you're not answering for the patient, sometimes just being there and being noisy is enough to cause us problems. We understand you're concerned for your friend or family member, but please let us do our job in some kind of peace.


Going back to my biochemistry roots;
If you're not part of the solution, you're part of the precipitate. (Credit)

Letter to Mr. Johnathon Walker

Firstly, this post isn't late - the world is just spinning a little faster than usual at the moment... This also means two posts will be released on the same day, because although I started this post on time, finishing only occurred on Wednesday when I got enough time to do so and start the next post ;)

Dear Mr. Johnathon Walker (an Open Letter to those who drink),

Firstly, let me wish you health and happiness in your travels, for I know last we met you were short on such luck. I was the fortunate soul whom your limbs were entrusted to while your mind decided to go for a bit of a wander. Unfortunately, you left behind your stomach and we were thus treated to a fireworks display. Relax, we've all been in this situation (myself included), and it's something most of us will grow out of.

I wish to make a few requests for the next time we meet, so that our fun times may continue in this little cycle of ours, and so that next time my washing will be made all the easier.

Firstly, I am not a tall guy - 5'7". I am also not the most muscular person in the world. For these reasons, I would most appreciate it that if you decide to become unconscious or, for whatever reason, are unable to walk even with assistance - please do so on the ground floor of whatever establishment we may be inside. Better still, do so outside, next to the car park (NEXT to, not ON or IN) while wearing warm clothes if it's cold and the brighter (and more reflective) the better. Not too long back you decided to make your resting place in the basement with only one entry (a damn narrow and steep flight of stairs) and given your girth I'm sure you appreciated the effort I was forced to make in your extrication. My back was fine after some rest, thank you for inquiring.

Secondly, please try to be conscious enough for me to be able to ask some simple questions and for you to understand and provide some simple answers. You don't need to tell me you're not (or are, in some cases) an alcoholic, as we have already established this prior to our arrival. Honest. Another thing I would appreciate in these early stages is that, should I require to, I may need to inflict a little bit of pain to rouse you. Please don't swing at me, because nine times out of ten my co-ordination is slightly better than yours and it makes you look slightly silly. That other one time... Wait until we get to the 'Finally' paragraph.

If you feel the urge to undertake the act of emesis, please do so in the bags provided. This may come as some shock, but my shoes are not in fact emesis bags. Nor are my overalls. For the love of all things holy, if I'm in my black and whites, these are certainly not to be utilised. Once you have completed your act, just hold onto the bag unless it's full. I'm sure it'll come in handy before too long.

Emesis bags are not to be thrown at me should you decide you no longer would appreciate my assistance. A simple thank you and nod of the head would suffice.

Finally, we may very well become good friends, repeating our adventures on a regular basis. For this reason, be nice to me (and ask your friends to do the same!) - for although I will do what I need to do to make your health improve, your comfort might just be slightly increased if I know you're an ok person.

Wishing you well in this drinking season of (insert any time of year here),

KT

Trauma Junkie

Since writing this blog, a few friends have called me something which, while not necessarily inaccurate, I don't find too appealing.

Trauma Junkie.

In a sense, they are right. I like getting the 'big cases' where my hands get wet. I like being tested, forced to think on my toes and, I'll admit, the adrenalin rush is certainly an interesting experience.

Don't get me wrong - I never wish for someone to get in trouble, in fact in a perfect world my future career would be redundant and I'd be more than happy with that - it's just that this isn't a perfect world, and accidents do happen. So does stupidity, hate, greed, lust (and all those other enjoyable sins we hear so much about). I've become a bit of a junkie in the sense that I want to experience things so I can learn from them, observe and help when things go wrong. I want to be there for the 'big cases' so that if, and I hope this doesn't happen, I'm on my own in this situation without the support of a team or partner, I will be able to keep my cool.

Something of a recurring mantra on this blog - I want to be better. If that makes me a trauma junkie, so be it - as long as everyone goes home to a full family tonight, I'll be more than happy to stick with that title.

DIB

The first time I thought to myself that I was becoming better at this was a rather interesting day. I was at (yet another) St John duty at an all ages concert with a crew from another division - one I hadn't worked with before and was made up of mostly cadets. This is always an interesting situation to be in, because you're never really sure what level the others are at until they're put to the test in front of you.

Who should decide to pay a visit except the Commissioner of St John Ambulance (the relevance of this shall appear in a later post).

He was having a chat with the one of the other members (I usually try and stay out of a lot of the 'politics' of the organisation) when the event radio squeals for us to head to the first floor for 'an elderly man in trouble'. I love the non-descripts.

I grabbed a basic kit, defib and threw (by which I mean of course under Occupational Health and Safety requirements, passed in a slow and safe manner) O2 to one of the cadets, not too sure of what we'd need. I called for one of them to follow me, but somehow had two when I got there.

Luckily for us, our 'elderly man in trouble' was not critical, but he was having difficulty breathing. After doing basic obs it was clear all was not well and I called through the radio to get an Ambulance in. We administered oxygen and got a wheelchair to get him down to the First Aid post where we'd organised to meet the Paramedics.

He had forgotten to take his blood pressure medication and had a very rapid, strong and slightly irregular pulse, which was (and still currently is - although I'm working on it ;) ) beyond my capabilities to treat.

I had chatted to him until the ambulance arrived, given the circumstances I did most of the talking - it helps give a touch of normalcy to the situation and also takes the focus off the symptoms, slows the pulse. He was a rather interesting old chap, I'm always amazed by the lives of those I come into contact with...

It was a simple transfer, after ten minutes the Paramedics had come and gone (and somewhere amongst all the fun the Commissioner had vanished), but I was amused to hear the two other members talking in the hallway outside the post...

"That was freaky..."
"Yeah, never had anything that serious before. The other guy was ok though, I couldn't stop shaking!"

I wasn't sure how to take it at first, I was of course feeling undeserved complimented and a little abashed - I was only doing what I was trained to do, after all. They came in later and, given they were still a little rattled, I gave a debrief and we talked through the scenario.

This was my first real taste of teaching first aid, because it turned out the other two there didn't even know how to administer oxygen. We spent the rest of the duty going through scenarios and equipment - everyone rather enjoying themselves with no other call outs.

I left that duty with a sense that I had accomplished something, not just with the patient, but with the other members - and it felt good. For the first time I felt I had achieved something beyond what I originally thought I could do, and it was around this time I seriously thought about becoming a Paramedic. I like to take my time with decisions though, unless someone's bleeding.

The other thing it made me think about was just how limited my treatments were as First Aid - both in knowledge and resources. After this case I did a lot of reading on blood pressure medications and furthered my knowledge of oxygen therapy - sometimes being in a university gives you access to some fantastic references, even if you're a molecular biologist not enrolled in the Paramedics course ;)

How little I've learned...

The thing I have to keep telling myself lately is that I don't even know if I'm in the traineeship yet. For all the posts, the experiences, the aspirations and hopes - I have to remind myself that I'm still in my infancy. That I'll end up getting into Paramedics somehow is obvious to me - I'm too damn stubborn. The question is how long will it take me?

So there's a few things I want to say to various people, those things you'll find below.

To NSW Ambulance Service;
I am what you're looking for. I am hard working, good with people, a quick learner and have a passion for doing more of what I've experienced so far in First Aid. I have a medical background, holding BBioMedSc(Hons) with experience in cancer and viral medical research. I am self-reliant but still love working in teams, efficient and (with what I've experienced so far) able to keep a cool head in potentially bad situations. Give me a chance, and I will not let you (or those who trust in me) down.

But I am young, and while I think I have experienced some things, I know they are nothing to what a Paramedic can experience on a daily basis. I am willing to learn, and for that I need you to teach. More than anything else, I need to remember that no matter how qualified I am (with my current degree, while I'm in training and long after I finish) I will always need to keep learning. I have long loved to learn, having spent most of my life in educational institutions, but the real learning starts when you let me into your vehicles.

To any crew I (hopefully) will work with;
Be patient, for although I may be eager I know I am only human and will make mistakes. Let me know when I'm doing things wrong, but more importantly don't be afraid to also let me know when I'm doing things right. Guide me until you think I'm ready.

I will try to keep my patients happy and safe, I will introduce myself to them by name and make sure I listen to what they have to say. I will treat everyone with respect, even though I may not always be treated the same. That is life, and a lesson I've learned somewhat already but will continue to learn. I will treat them as best I can, explaining everything I do and why. No matter how much smarter, better trained or higher in the social hierarchy I think I may be compared to those I assist , at the end of the day we are public servants, and they are the public - my humility can help my patient just as much as gauze and saline (but that doesn't mean I have to respect every drunk ;P).

I will do what I can, but I know I can't save everybody. I will accept that when it happens, and although it's easy to write now I'll need your help when it happens (even though I may be too proud to ask). Make me good at what I do, but always remind me to become better.



Making the decision to follow this path was one of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make - but since making it I haven't had a second thought. Where I was afraid of beginning my education again, I have found a fascination for reading EMS text books, reports, stories and blogs. Where I was scared of changing the direction of my life, I've found an inner peace and sense of 'rightness' I haven't felt in years.

The more I've learned in life, the more I realise how little I've learned and how much more there is out there to know. An old friend of mine once told me that was the first step to wisdom, but that the path was long and easily lost. While he left us several years back, I'm sure that if I could ask him today what he though, he'd tell me to follow my heart.

I only ask the Ambulance Service of New South Wales to give me a shot and see what I am capable of. Teach me, train me - and no matter how good I may become, always remind me just how little I've learned.

Panic Attack

Three of us were at a local St John Ambulance duty, while the event had a purpose it was basically another get-people-together-and-get-them-drunk night. It was a night like many others, we basically sat around and chatted amongst ourselves while everyone else became about as stable as a half demolished tower of Jenga.

Fun for all.

One thing that I didn't like about this venue was the positioning of the rest rooms - they were outside the hall, down a corridor and tucked away into a back corner. Usually this wouldn't bother me, but given the heavy drinking the toilets were something we wanted to check on a regular basis. Luckily there were two females on duty with me, so we've divide up the toilet checks where I'd go check male, they'd go check female - much more convenient than vice-versa.

At one point they went off to check the bathrooms and hadn't been back for some time. Figuring they got a job but not hearing a sitrep on the radio, I stuck around and made sure everyone else was playing nice. Down the corridor comes a howling scream and it's at this point I decided I might pay a little visit to see exactly what was happening.

The two females I was on duty with had discovered a girl in a full-blown panic attack. Trying to get her out of the bathroom to somewhere a little better ventilated, they had tried to take her outside - only to have her hit critical when coming down the corridor. I brought over some O2 and we got her ventilated and were reassuring her when I get a tap on the shoulder from security - they were complaining that we were blocking off the toilets.

This really gets to me, when people can see we're in the middle of something, but insist on bothering us for something quite trivial. This girl just needed a few minutes of privacy, so we had stopped people coming down the corridor to the bathrooms. Now, far be it from me to think that maybe, just maybe, people could hold their bladder another few minutes - but to have security demand we move a patient unnecessarily for the convenience of a few drunks makes me just plain angry.

After a little bit of 'verbal altercation' we had them open up a large room and we moved the poor girl still screaming into the room until she calmed to a full recovery. In the end she was more embarrassed than anything, which is quite common in these situations, but I think the stupidity of security didn't help the situation.

This duty taught me two things;
1) While most event security are fantastic and helpful, you do get those on a power trip. Stand your ground, because sometimes you will be the only one defending the patient - and no matter what else may be happening they come first
2) I hate screamers. Put me with a gasping or unconscious patient and I'll work my magic - but when they're high-pitched screaming into my ear it hits me like I'm stuck inside a ringing church bell

I've decided my post on Monday will be a rant on everything I've learned by knowing how little I've learned... Confused? Wait till Monday ;)

Supervisors

So I've just come from my PhD Supervisor's office - I told her (and my Co-Supervisor) last night about my plans to defer the PhD and take up Paramedics. I was nervous about how they would take it, after all, they had invested a lot of time, effort and money to get me this far and here I was telling them I wanted out.

Fortunately, they both took it very well! I was amazed and humbled that they genuinely thought I should do what I felt was best for me, they had noticed my attention wasn't always on the project and thought a year off to pursue whatever I wanted might be in my best interest. This way, I could defer the PhD for a year, start the Paramedics intake (hopefully!) and after a year decide if I want to continue with Paramedics or return to the PhD.

I had felt guilty that it had taken me so long to tell them - a part of me was scared of their reaction, but the main reason really was that I wanted to be sure this was what I wanted, and I wasn't risking my PhD on a half understood dream of being a Paramedic. It was after treating a serious case late at night that I realised without a doubt this was what I wanted, and why the next day I called both supervisors in for 'a chat'.

Don't be afraid to follow your dreams - but just make sure it's a dream you really want to follow.