Bigger than a band-aid

One thing I remember happening in St John a few times was that you would get 'senior' members who flat out refused to do anything but the 'big' cases. I'm not sure if I've blogged on this before, so if I have - bugger - if not, great. Because it's something that keeps popping up in my Paramedics training at the moment...

The thing that got me with the people in St John (and I don't doubt you'd find these in every emergency medical/first aid service) who were of the 'big stuff only' mindset was that they were missing the two biggest points to do with pre-hospital care; looking after people's health and looking after people. I was extremely pleased to see that one of the steps in Protocol 1 (the very first Protocol!) in our protocol book is 'REASSURANCE'.

The people who only seek the 'big' cases (BC's for short from here on!) miss out on the real work of any good ambo - looking after people, regardless of if anything is actually wrong or not. The big test is usually if someone comes into a first aid post looking for a band-aid. Our BC's scoff at the thought of applying a mere band-aid, such is their skill and prowess that they must hold themselves in reserve in anticipation of that big fish. In my opinion, it is the humble, friendly member who puts the band-aid on the persons (usually smelly) feet, has a chat with them and walks them out the door when they're ready that is really doing the good work. Because they're fulfilling both neccessary steps of being a good medic.

Unfortunately I've seen a BC in action at an OD, the patient was transfered to an ambulance at said BC walked off grinning at what a good job they'd done. Right past the girlfriend crying because she didn't know if she was going to see her boyfriend alive again (which in that case she definitely would, although perhaps a second trip to hospital would follow his initial release thanks to said girlfriend's 'welcome home'). I remember the look on her face - desperate and vulnerable, terrified and lost. Fortunately a nurse got to her and directed her to another vehicle headed to the hospital, they had a chat before she went off and I don't doubt for a second it did her the world of good. The patients on our run sheets and cas forms aren't the only people we treat. A smile, a slight touch of reassurance, a kind word are often worth more than the most expensive equipment you can pack into an ambulance.

I know that, as often happens, I will grow tired of doing the little things. I won't want to put the band-aid on the foot, I won't want to do the simple little procedures. I like to think I'd do it anyway with a smile, or hand it to a probie (be nice to probies! please?) who needs these experiences - but not because I feel I'm above it.

They drill into us here that we are public servants in all senses - we will politely oblige the lovely old lady who has fallen over in her thirty roomed mansion. We will also politely oblige the homeless man who has passed out in a pool of filth.

I hope that no matter how much training or experience I get, I will never - for an instant - think I am bigger than a band-aid.