And you can sit there till you rot (AtomicMPC)
RetroSwim May 13th, 2020 16 Never
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- Presently, I’m working at the Operations Centre. I left my road position, and effectively changed my workplace from the back of a blood bus to a nice comfy chair, with a computer and radio.
- Since then, I’ve taken some higher steps, and am temporarily filling the shoes of the Personnel Manager of the Ops Centre, which also manages out Patient Transport Service staff. Anyhoo, with this position comes a marked car, and thus the beginning of my tale.
- Driving home from work today, I tuned in to the areas radio channel to listen in on the activity. As a practice, I don’t pipe up and let the dispatcher know I’m there unless they sound short on resources in their area. Today, they were short, and it was my duty to step in.
- I hear a crew respond to a job not far from me, but about 15 mins away from them. Naturally, being close and fully equipped with appropriate gear, I jump in, state my position, and proceed to the address to stand by.
- The call was to a female unwell, possibly losing consciousness. I flicked on the bells and whistles, speeding off in the right direction.
- I called into the radio as I pulled up. “Alpha 35 on scene”. I was met on the street by a young male who looked like an extra from a hillbilly version of the Munsters. He proceeded to tell me that his mum was sick and he couldn’t move her from the lounge to take her to the doctors. He rambled on for a bit, and then mentioned that she had actually been sick for some time now, and he was starting to get a little worried.
- For some reason, we didn’t go through the front door. The reason for this became evidently clear as I walked in the back. Rubbish, filth and vermin covered the floor about a foot deep. I literally had to wade through piles of rotting crap and food to make my way to the sick woman at (you guessed it) the front bedroom.
- There before sat a woman, in much the same shape as the ones in here ( http://www.atomicmpc.com.au/forums.asp?s=1...c=1&t=40171 Miss Krispy Kreme thread from earlier ) sitting stagnant on the lounge. She wasn’t well, and her colour suggested a pre-arrest condition (pre-arrest = about to kark it). I kicked some empty spaghetti tins out of the way and crouched beside her. Her blood pressure was very low, and pulse weak. That’s as much as I needed to know straight away, and out came the oxygen and the call to operations to keep the back up coming urgently.
- I checked a few other observations before the ambulance crew arrived, and sent the lady’s son (formally nicknamed a Sherpa) out front to guide the crew through the mountain of shit inside their house.
- The time spent waiting for the crew was mostly uneventful, and I used the time to really get an in depth history. As it turns out, the lazy cow had planted her arse on the couch 3 years ago in an act of defiance, due to her son’s unwillingness to contribute to house chores. 3 YEARS !
- During this time, her son had taken on the role (not by choice either) of feeding and sponge bathing his mum, as she sat defiantly in front of the tele. After about 2 months, she gave up actually going to the toilet to urinate, and started doing it where she sat. A month or 2 later, and the bowel motions took the same direction.
- DISGUSTING. How a person could live in such filth is beyond me. Anyway, the ambulance crew arrived, and I gave them a run down as to current obs and history. They turned green at the story, and I could see the young probationer inching toward the door. Hehehe….not so fast young lady ! I ordered her closer to the patient, and reminded her very quietly that we were here to care for the sick, not avoid them.
- We prepared our equipment to load her on the carry sheet, and also made a path to the front door with a shovel the son had found in the back yard. As we got ready to roll her onto the sheet, I swear that for the rest of my life, I will never see again what I’m about to describe.
- During 3 years of slovenly, sweaty, defecation and filth, the woman’s back had become infectious, then gangrenous, and had rotten away. The only thing holding her back together was her weight pushing up against the back of the couch. Of coarse, we didn’t know this until we started to roll her, and I was presented with a clear view of her spine and rear body organs. Actually, the left kidney became more visible as it fell out.
- Suddenly I had realised why this woman was so ill, and my prediction of a pending cardiac arrest soon came to bear. Like a massive boulder, she rolled back onto the couch and lost consciousness. Paramedic support was already en route, and we commenced CPR (more from a trained reaction and instinct than anything else). CPR proved to be extremely difficult, as we physically couldn’t roll her onto the floor. She was so fat, that CPR was basically ineffective. Based on the injuries due to her back practically rotting away, I decided to stop CPR due to injuries being incompatible with life. Shortly after this, the paramedic crew arrived, and agreed with my decision.
- Ultimately, this became a crime scene based on the neglect of the son for his mother’s long term health. I’m sure it’s a tough case to rule on. Is the son responsible; is the woman responsible; or are they both to blame. I dunno. I don’t really care to be honest. I’m just glad that most people are not stupid enough to let this happen to themselves.
- It kind of reminded me of the guy in Seven who died under the banner of “sloth” (except you have to factor in the rotting flesh peeling off her back).
- So, the police and coroner took charge of the scene, the son was taken to the local station for questioning I guess, and us ambo’s washed our hands of it, glad that we didn’t get stuck with the job of extrication. IMO, they should have hired a crane like they did for the Redfern blimp up on the 3rd floor ( http://www.atomicmpc.com.au/forums.asp?s=1...c=1&t=33807 ).
- In the end, I did feel a tad guilty for rolling her over, as it did speed up her death, but I guess that ultimately she was gonna die anyway, most likely later that night.
- You reap what you sow.
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