Where are my patients now?

During this Christmas I find myself looking back on this past year and the hundreds of patients I’ve come into contact with and wonder where they are now. One of the bizarre parts of my job is, you are with people during possibly the worst time of their life. You find out intimate knowledge of them. You see them in their home and varying states of undress. You see them cry, vomit, bleed, etc. And then you never see them again.

As an EMT, you follow up with patients when you can, usually when you’re back at the hospital later that day for another patient. But after that day, they disappear into the world and you have no idea whatever happens to them.

The alcoholic man who I talked with for an hour about his life and how he was going to die if he didn’t get help and detox. Is he clean now? Is he dead? Or is he still in his penthouse, lying in his own filth, drinking a fifth of Vodka every day? Did he ever reconnect with his wife?

The beaten prostitute I gave a blanket to and talked with at four in the frigid morning. Did she get outa town? Or did Linda’s pimp catch up with her? You’ll only know if you get that assault call, which are long odds.

The teenage girl who tried hanging herself? Did my words have any effect on her? I have no idea. She was a scared girl, angry with her parents. I don’t think she’ll try and kill herself again, but there’s a whole world of trouble she’ll most likely get into.

I find suicide attempts are the ones I wonder about the most. Because after that traumatic situation, they are either never going to try it again, or they’re going to go home and do it right that time. Like the father who tried overdosing on Claritin pills. He thought if he took a bunch of pills, any pills, he would die. Instead he got really drowsy. Later that day, I found out he escaped the hospital, and now he knows how to properly kill himself. Is his daughter spending her first Christmas without her father?

It’s easy to say to yourself “what’s the point?” cause, honestly, this job can be heartbreaking at times. Whether you made any difference at all, you’ll never know.

I really hope I get to meet some of these people in heaven. Maybe then I can ask them how it all turned out.

The gang banger with the gunshot wound to the head that I helped save. Did he just get shot again and killed? Or did he find retribution and kill someone else?

Perhaps it’s best not to know.

That’s the trouble with life and death. You don’t know how much of history you have changed or set in place. I have to believe that a just God is in control. I think that’s what I’m celebrating this Christmas.

A Thrill of Hope. The Weary Soul rejoices.

For Yonder Breaks. A New and Glorious Morn. 

My Egyptian Sidekick

Many times in my life I’ve found myself in situations I swear was straight out of Indiana Jones. Sometimes this is of my own doing and other times, God just drops it in my lap. Such was the time I got to ride a camel around the Pyramids of Giza in Egypt with my best friend, a beautiful Egyptian girl, and most importantly, a sidekick named Short Round.

I was on a mission trip in Cairo working with different orphanages and centers for disabled children. (Note: I am a good person). 

At the end of our time there, we went to visit the pyramids. Well, an Egyptian kid of about 12, who was a friend of the pastor’s, wanted to go to the pyramids. I have no idea where this kid came from. So we brought him along and for some reason, out of the team of 15, this tenacious kid decided to cling to me and by my sidekick for the day. Seriously, he would not leave my side for the entire day. He even wore a baseball cap. 

Rather than get irritated by his relentless questions, I decided to go with it. He was my sidekick. I called him Short Round cause, well,…he was short and round (Note: I am a terrible person).

Sure enough, we rode camels, had lunch, and climbed the pyramids. We became fast friends and by no doing of my own, I had my very own sidekick. 

When Clay got him to yell to me “Dr. Jones! Dr. Jones!” I fell to the floor crying with laughter, as did the rest of the team.

I miss Egypt. 

My Grossest Call

Being an EMT in South LA, I have seen some gross things. Active vaginal hemorrhage. Facial trauma with missing teeth. Cut off nose, etc.  

My tolerance is pretty good. I’ve seen scenes that belong in a horror movie. Despite my tolerance,  I’ve got nothing on Nurses. Nurses will talk about things that make my stomach turn, …while they eat.

To date, my grossest call came during my training. We got a call to the third floor of a hotel in Inglewood. Not the worst place, but not where you’d want to stay. My partner and I were first on scene and, as we busted in the room, we found a man in his forties lying on the bed. He had been tripping out on heroine for 3 DAYS. He was altered, but alive.

Because he was lying on the bed for three days and hadn’t moved, he was lying in his own filth. Days of incontinence and, as a result, HE WAS COVERED WITH ANTS. Ants were feeding on his flesh and were in his eyes.

We immediately brushed off what we could, but we had to quickly pick him up and put him on the gurney to get him out of there. That’s when I heard my veteran partner say, “I got the legs”.

Being the new guy I of course got the short end of the stick and had to get behind this guy’s chest to pick him up with his head against me. Gross.

He was given an IV and taken to the hospital. He made it, but it was one of the worst examples of drug abuse I’ve ever seen.

At the hospital, all the nurses would talk amongst themselves saying, “Have you seen Ant Man”? When ER nurses are grossed out and tell each other the story, you know it’s bad.

And for the rest of the day, I was picking ants off me. They were in my ear.

…Yeah.