Repetition Breeds Familiarity
3am and I'm wide awake, even after self medicating with a beer and 2 Nyquil. Story time? Sure kids.
Here for your reading pleasure, is "Chris Gets Hit On By The Crazy Girl"
Paged to an unconscious person in Cary. I'm working with a paramedic and an intermediate, and at this point I'm still an explorer. Our chief checks enroute behind us, and the fire department is coming too. Long story short, when we get to this tiny house at the north end of Academy St. there's about a million people inside, and I just stay outside talking to the mother to get the information we need.
Our patient is a 40 year old woman who is develomentally delayed, has a history of multiple psychiatric disorders, and lives at home with her 65 year old mother who can't seem to make sure that her daughter takes her meds. I finish getting the demographics we need, and head inside.
After pushing my way through 4 or 5 burly firemen, I finally make it to the back bedroom of the house where our patient is. Our chief is yelling at this girl, trying to get her to wake up. (He likes to yell at unconscious patients. If they can't hear, dammit he's going to MAKE them hear.) Apparently they've been trying everything they can for the last 5 minutes to get some sort of response from her, but nothing's worked. This girl has been through the system and knows how the game is played. She held her breath for the ammonia cap, gritted her teeth through the sternal rub, and smacked herself in the face with the hand-drop test. Championship work in my book.
Unfortunately, the minute I walk into the room she sits bolt upright, looks me right in the eye and says "Heeeeyyyy" in what I can only assume she thought was a seductive tone. According to my partners, I immediately went pale.
Me- Umm hi. What's going on?
Crazy Girl- I don't know who all these people are. I was just sleeping. What's going on?
Chief- We were called her because your mom couldn't wake you up.
CG makes no notice of Chief, and continues looking right at me. She then repeats her question:
CG- What's going on?
I repeat word for word what the Chief said, difference being, it came from me. This time she responds with:
CG- Oh... that's really weird. Don't you think?
Me- Yeah, pretty strange. So what's say we go to the hospital and get you checked out, does that sound like a good idea?
CG- Can't you just check me out here? I just want to go back to sleep. You can stay for that too if you want.
I think about here is where I want to describe this woman. She's probably around 4' 11", and 150lbs. Stringy black hair, bug eyed, buck teeth, and smells like 4 week old yeti milk. If there's something I'd like less than to sleep with her, I can't figure out what it is.
Me- Let's just go to the hospital. I'll check you out in the back of the truck.
CG- Okay big fella.
I wish I was kidding. She called me big fella. In front of my chief, and a CFD engine company. I wanted to die.
We get her in the back of the truck, and my partner goes to start an IV. She FLIPS. Goes absolutely batshit. Tells him to keep his rapist hands off of her, and that's she's a one man woman. When my partner, who is by now choking back laughter asks her which man she's holding out for, she doesn't say anything, but just turns and stared at me with her bug eyed, buck toothed face.
I can see that it's coming down to me to get anything accomplished, so I swallow my pride (The little bit I have left at this point) and say:
Me- Sweetheart (gulp) we've got to start an IV, and I'm not allowed to do it. It has to be my partner, but I promise it's okay with me. Can he go ahead and do that?
CG- Are you sure you won't get jealous?
Me- Oh yes. I'm positive.
At this point, I can actually hear loud peals of laughter from the front of the truck where my other partner is listening to all of this.
She agrees to the IV, but tells me that I have to hold her hand while he does it. I quickly pull on a pair of gloves, and offer my hand. She proceeds to slowly stroke my palm while my partner starts the IV. I can only assume she though this was sexy, really it made me want to retch when I remembered something about certain bacteria being able to penetrate small holes in latex gloves.
My partner finishes the IV, (after making smoochie faces at me from behind CG's back while she's not looking) and I quickly pull my hand away. She casually lets her hand drop to my thigh, and then quickly begins progressing up to my crotch. I bolt up, and begin to move to the airway seat that's right behind the patient, but my asshole partner beats me there, and says "Sorry man, gotta do the call in. You understand?" and proceeds to laugh his ass off.
The two remaining seats in the back are both well withing arms (and grabbing) reach of CG, and I want to avoid being molested at all costs. I'm going to be honest here, and let all of you know that at 17, I was a relatively sexually inexperienced individual, and I didn't want the first female contact my genitals had to be with this offspring of Bigfoot and a wolverine.
I ended up standing above and behind her for the rest of the 7 mile ride to the hospital. With traffic and other delays, this meant 15 minutes of folding my 6 and a half foot tall frame into the 5 feet of standing room in the back of the truck. In short (pun intended) I was wedged, incredibly uncomfortably between the floor and ceiling of a moving vehicle while my worst nightmare come to life in "female" form tried to play grab-ass.
We finally arrived at the hospital, and I had to spend another 15 minutes convincing my new romance that I had to go back to work, but sure I'd come visit real soon, and she just needed to take the medicine that the nice nurses were giving her.
I walked out of that room knowing that the rest of my day was going to be miserable, and I was right. I caught hell for the rest of the night about hitting on patients, whether or not I'd made good use of the bed in the back of the truck, and how I liked getting felt up by someone old enough to be my mother. Nothing says "we care" like your coworkers making you want to crawl in a hole in the ground.
The best part of the story? At work the next week, she called again. This time from the police station. When central came back with our extra informatin about the call they said: (on a recorded radio frequency)
"Patient states that she feels the same way she did last week when the cute EMT came and helped her. Patient requests the same personnel"
Now there's no way for the girl to have known that I was working again, but I was, and one of my partners was even the same. I didn't know it was her for sure until we pulled up onscene, and she came running out of the bushes like a hippo to water as soon as I stepped out of the truck.
My partner had to lean against the hood of the truck to keep from collapsing in peals of laughter.
Here for your reading pleasure, is "Chris Gets Hit On By The Crazy Girl"
Paged to an unconscious person in Cary. I'm working with a paramedic and an intermediate, and at this point I'm still an explorer. Our chief checks enroute behind us, and the fire department is coming too. Long story short, when we get to this tiny house at the north end of Academy St. there's about a million people inside, and I just stay outside talking to the mother to get the information we need.
Our patient is a 40 year old woman who is develomentally delayed, has a history of multiple psychiatric disorders, and lives at home with her 65 year old mother who can't seem to make sure that her daughter takes her meds. I finish getting the demographics we need, and head inside.
After pushing my way through 4 or 5 burly firemen, I finally make it to the back bedroom of the house where our patient is. Our chief is yelling at this girl, trying to get her to wake up. (He likes to yell at unconscious patients. If they can't hear, dammit he's going to MAKE them hear.) Apparently they've been trying everything they can for the last 5 minutes to get some sort of response from her, but nothing's worked. This girl has been through the system and knows how the game is played. She held her breath for the ammonia cap, gritted her teeth through the sternal rub, and smacked herself in the face with the hand-drop test. Championship work in my book.
Unfortunately, the minute I walk into the room she sits bolt upright, looks me right in the eye and says "Heeeeyyyy" in what I can only assume she thought was a seductive tone. According to my partners, I immediately went pale.
Me- Umm hi. What's going on?
Crazy Girl- I don't know who all these people are. I was just sleeping. What's going on?
Chief- We were called her because your mom couldn't wake you up.
CG makes no notice of Chief, and continues looking right at me. She then repeats her question:
CG- What's going on?
I repeat word for word what the Chief said, difference being, it came from me. This time she responds with:
CG- Oh... that's really weird. Don't you think?
Me- Yeah, pretty strange. So what's say we go to the hospital and get you checked out, does that sound like a good idea?
CG- Can't you just check me out here? I just want to go back to sleep. You can stay for that too if you want.
I think about here is where I want to describe this woman. She's probably around 4' 11", and 150lbs. Stringy black hair, bug eyed, buck teeth, and smells like 4 week old yeti milk. If there's something I'd like less than to sleep with her, I can't figure out what it is.
Me- Let's just go to the hospital. I'll check you out in the back of the truck.
CG- Okay big fella.
I wish I was kidding. She called me big fella. In front of my chief, and a CFD engine company. I wanted to die.
We get her in the back of the truck, and my partner goes to start an IV. She FLIPS. Goes absolutely batshit. Tells him to keep his rapist hands off of her, and that's she's a one man woman. When my partner, who is by now choking back laughter asks her which man she's holding out for, she doesn't say anything, but just turns and stared at me with her bug eyed, buck toothed face.
I can see that it's coming down to me to get anything accomplished, so I swallow my pride (The little bit I have left at this point) and say:
Me- Sweetheart (gulp) we've got to start an IV, and I'm not allowed to do it. It has to be my partner, but I promise it's okay with me. Can he go ahead and do that?
CG- Are you sure you won't get jealous?
Me- Oh yes. I'm positive.
At this point, I can actually hear loud peals of laughter from the front of the truck where my other partner is listening to all of this.
She agrees to the IV, but tells me that I have to hold her hand while he does it. I quickly pull on a pair of gloves, and offer my hand. She proceeds to slowly stroke my palm while my partner starts the IV. I can only assume she though this was sexy, really it made me want to retch when I remembered something about certain bacteria being able to penetrate small holes in latex gloves.
My partner finishes the IV, (after making smoochie faces at me from behind CG's back while she's not looking) and I quickly pull my hand away. She casually lets her hand drop to my thigh, and then quickly begins progressing up to my crotch. I bolt up, and begin to move to the airway seat that's right behind the patient, but my asshole partner beats me there, and says "Sorry man, gotta do the call in. You understand?" and proceeds to laugh his ass off.
The two remaining seats in the back are both well withing arms (and grabbing) reach of CG, and I want to avoid being molested at all costs. I'm going to be honest here, and let all of you know that at 17, I was a relatively sexually inexperienced individual, and I didn't want the first female contact my genitals had to be with this offspring of Bigfoot and a wolverine.
I ended up standing above and behind her for the rest of the 7 mile ride to the hospital. With traffic and other delays, this meant 15 minutes of folding my 6 and a half foot tall frame into the 5 feet of standing room in the back of the truck. In short (pun intended) I was wedged, incredibly uncomfortably between the floor and ceiling of a moving vehicle while my worst nightmare come to life in "female" form tried to play grab-ass.
We finally arrived at the hospital, and I had to spend another 15 minutes convincing my new romance that I had to go back to work, but sure I'd come visit real soon, and she just needed to take the medicine that the nice nurses were giving her.
I walked out of that room knowing that the rest of my day was going to be miserable, and I was right. I caught hell for the rest of the night about hitting on patients, whether or not I'd made good use of the bed in the back of the truck, and how I liked getting felt up by someone old enough to be my mother. Nothing says "we care" like your coworkers making you want to crawl in a hole in the ground.
The best part of the story? At work the next week, she called again. This time from the police station. When central came back with our extra informatin about the call they said: (on a recorded radio frequency)
"Patient states that she feels the same way she did last week when the cute EMT came and helped her. Patient requests the same personnel"
Now there's no way for the girl to have known that I was working again, but I was, and one of my partners was even the same. I didn't know it was her for sure until we pulled up onscene, and she came running out of the bushes like a hippo to water as soon as I stepped out of the truck.
My partner had to lean against the hood of the truck to keep from collapsing in peals of laughter.
posted by C at 3:11 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home