On a lighter note

I don't talk about work much, I really don't.  I may vent after a shift or whatever, but in general I'm not one to go off on a bunch of war stories -- especially when I am around non-EMS people.  Now, put a bunch of EMS people together and the stories will propagate endlessly.  I've had a pretty long career and have certainly forgotten more than I will ever remember, but there are always a few things that withstand the test of time.  If anyone is sincerely interested in the darker side of humanity perhaps I will write about it here.  In the meantime I thought that instead of headless pedestrians I might share one of my favorite stories from early on in my career.

While the show M*A*S*H did an excellent job of demonstrating "gallows humor", it can be hard to understand where it comes from -- especially when you see it in action.  It is not meant to be disrespectful or insulting, it is merely our way of distancing ourselves and placing it in a framework we can function in.

We laugh.  Alot.


Quite a few years ago now, my first medic partner Andy and I were working a city unit on a chill February day.  (For those of you who know me, yes I actually did work days for a time, the horror of it all.)  We got called down to the eastern end of the city, by the river, for a drowning.  Now when we pull up there's a frenzy of activity as the Fire Department is working to fish some man out of the river.  As we're waiting for the victim to be brought up the bank to us, we notice something definitely out of the ordinary -- a handful of men wearing windbreakers with pulldown ID flaps that read "US Treasury Agent" aka the Secret Service. 

Since we're not in the know at this point, we start inventing reasons for being there.  Andy and I decide that if the Secret Service is involved, then the guy must be a KGB agent of course.


So let me cut to the actual story.  The victim was travelling by train, and on him he was carrying counterfeit money plates.  The agents had been trailing him.  When he caught on to it, he ran from the train station.  They chased him on foot down to the river.  He threw the plates into the murky water and then jumped in and swam out aways.  (Where he thought he would end up I have no idea, the other bank is in the city too.)

The police got involved during the foot pursuit and now together they congregate on the bank and wait for one of the boats to come.  Meanwhile our friend the "KGB agent" has swum to a buoy and was hanging on.  So they figured they'd let him cool his heels till they could scoop him up.

For forty minutes.

Did I mention it was February?

Anyway, in true hypothermic fashion he goes unconscious and ends up drowning before the FD can fish him out of the water.  Thus enters our heroes (ta da!) and that's where we were at.  Now for Andy and I, this is straightforward stuff.  We do CPR and all our little advanced procedures and try our best to begin warming the body up -- because you can't be officially dead until you're warm and dead.  We take him to the hospital with little more than some jokes about sleeping with the fishes.  Then it gets interesting.

Now, if you've ever seen CPR, it's pretty unmistakeable.  One would think that a clerk in an ER like ours would be quite used to it.  Apparently that's not the case.  As we're rolling by the registration area, everyone's working on him and there's water running everywhere.  The clerk stops me and says, "What's his chief complaint?"

(Insert dumb German Shepard look and a few blinks on my part.)

My response is, "Can't swim." 

We take him in the back and are now transferring him over to the ER stretcher, calling out a report and answering whatever questions they're throwing at us.  We have one doc there who is particularly obnoxious.  Allegedly a very good surgeon he's a blustery and caustic individual.  He's demanding to know the full story.  So ... we give it to him.

Doc: "What was he doing in the river?"
Me: "Drowning." (insert kick from partner)

Finally we fill him in on everything we know, sans the total truth part.

Doc:  "So what you're telling me is ... A KGB agent, being chased by the Secret Service, jumped into the Passaic River and drowned."

Andy & I: (nodding) "Yep, that's what we're telling you."

Doc:  "What in the hell was he doing there?!?!?"

Me: (in bad Russian accent) "Don't be ridiculous!  He vas looking for stupid moose & squirrel!"

(insert red-faced surgeon and partner dragging me rapidly out of the ER)

We laugh.  Alot.  Don't ever take it personally, we do it to everyone.