Living My Nightmare...

Well, what I feared what would happen did...

I am still out of work. After a doctor's appointment last Wednesday, the doctor told me I was out of work for another 4 weeks. 4 more weeks. 4. As in another 30 days. As in...shit. When I wrote the chief from my full-time department, BFD, I received a phone call 10 minutes later letting me know I had been let go. Again...shit.

Shit shit shit. Damn.

I didn't finish my probationary period, so I was expecting it. But it still wasn't welcome news.

Physical therapy is coming along. My ankle and my leg are becoming stronger. Where I am hitting a brick wall is doing calf raises. I. Can't. Do. Them. At all. I can do 4 or 5, then I start crying like a little girl. The pain is unbelievable. The doctor said it will just take time to heal. He said I will have no lasting effects from the injury, but the healing process...who knows.

So here I sit in limbo...I just want to heal so I can at least go back to work at my part-time department, and try to figure out this mess at the full-time department.

If it's not one thing, it's another...

And to make this all that much worse, workman's comp has decided that I am well enough to go back to work, so they have stopped paying me. Nice, right? No money for rent, food, etc. I did hire a lawyer, but it is taking way too long. Please keep me in your thoughts and prayers...

I'm Now Immortalized

Thanks to everyone for the well wishes...I am still looking at another 4 or so weeks out of work. It has already been 9 weeks! Needless to say, I am going crazy. I have tried volunteering for the medic class this semester, but they won't have me because I injured myself at work. Apparently my legend as a klutz has preceded me...Today I had an MRI. I am hoping to figure out what the heck is going on with my foot.

I received an e-mail from my chief, telling me to catch up with my con-ed on line. Sure, I said. I will get right on that. I was on the website, flipping through all of the new protocols we started as of September 1st. Yea for Zofran. Fentynal instead of Morphine. New OB, peds and pain protocols. I ran through them kind of fast. The last slide made me stop. I started laughing...laughing so hard tears streamed down my face. That protocol was written for me.

Yes, dear readers! About me! How many people can say a protocol was written because of them? I have one! I am now famous...

We were called to the scene of a fender-bender. Not a fender-bender. There wasn't even a transfer of paint. No dent. Rear-ended going 5 miles per hour. But of course, the driver of the car that was rear-ended had neck pain. Oh, the agony! It hurts so bad! I rolled my eyes while my partner and I back boarded and c-collared her. I climbed into the MICU with her, and told my partner to just start driving. We were 25 minutes away from the hospital...I could get vitals on the way. We all have had calls like this...there is nothing wrong with her. I got her vitals...all normal..and called the hospital we were transporting to. This hospital is just a local community hospital. It is not a trauma center. It has no specialties. But it does have an ER, it does have doctors, and there was no reason why they couldn't take our patient.

I called Resource Hospital, like protocol dictates, and I was three-wayed with Community Hospital. I got as far as "We are en route to your facility with a 67 y/o female involved in a very minor fender-bender."

ECRN: Wait, wait, wait...you can't bring her here, she meets trauma criteria.

Me: Um...what? She was hit going 5 mph, no damage to vehicle. Trauma criteria is not met.

ECRN: Let me ask the doctor.

I was placed on hold at this point. Here was my saving grace...the ECRN from Resource Hospital was still on the line. And she was PISSED.

ECRN2: Oh HELL no! BFD, you are not turning around. Continue transport to Community Hospital. This is BULL SHIT. (yes...said on a recorded line)

Me: OK, Resource Hospital. Message is received.

ECRN: BFD, the doctor wants you to transport to Resource Hospital. You are ordered to turn around and divert.

Me: With all due respect, we are 5 minutes out from your location. 30 minutes out from Resource Hospital. Trauma criteria is not met.

ECRN: You are ordered to divert.

This is when the real fun began...

ECRN2: I have ordered BFD to continue transport to your facility. There is no need for a trauma center.

ECRN: How do you know?

ECRN2: Because I am listening to her report! There is no injury!

ECRN: That she can SEE. We are not accepting this patient!

ECRN2: Community Hospital, can you please repeat that last traffic? Are you denying to help a patient?

Me: Umm...guys...I am 1 minute out from Community Hospital. Am I to continue in? Does anyone want to hear the rest of the report?

ECRN: Well, if you are here, then just come in. We will talk in a minute. And ECRN2...I am giving you a call!

ECRN2: I look forward to it!

Oh good Lord.

We walked in with the patient, and I gave report to a very pissed off nurse, who let me know I do not have x-ray vision, so therefore I can't make the call on trauma criteria. Well, I just don't back down from a fight, especially when I am right. I walked back out to my MICU, grabbed a copy of my protocols, and marched back into the ED. I opened up to the page that outlines trauma criteria.

Me: Please, so I can learn, so I don't make this mistake again, tell me where she met trauma criteria. Because I definitely don't want to bring you something you can't handle.

Needless to say, my chief received a phone call. As well as the EMS coordinator at Resource Hospital.

Jason, the coordinator, came out to see me at the firehouse later that day. He told me he had listened to the tape and pulled the report. He said Community Hospital was found to be at fault. I knew they would be...I did nothing wrong. Jason said they have had many problems with that hospital refusing patients. He described it as a treatment center...good for stubbed toes and sprained ankles. But they often forget they are doctors and nurses, and have the ability to treat and stabilize.

So, back to the present day. The new protocol states that when transporting to Community Hospital, the report must be called, and completed, before the MICU starts moving. Just in case they decide they can't handle the situation and call for a diversion. All because of my call. FUNNY!

Hope I never have to be taken to that hospital.

So so frustrated!

Argh!!! This is just getting ridiculous! I had my first appointment with the new physical therapy place today, recommended by the new doctor. Here, I was stupidly thinking I was going to be back to work in two weeks, just like the doctor said. Nope, turns out I did more damage then originally thought, another 4 to 6 weeks. I have no strength in my left ankle, no support. The therapist says they have to get me to a point where even though the ankle hurts, I won't cause any more damage while I am working. 4 to 6 weeks...damn...

And...I can't resume running until the new year. That frustrates me more then anything else. It is how I relieve my stress! Grrr...

The Second Opinion

OK, so here is the good word. Turns out I have torn ligaments in my foot, and in between my tibia and fibula. UGH! How is it I have had this damage and it wasn't discovered until 6 weeks after the fact? A small word of advice to anyone with a foot injury...go to an orthopaedic specialist.

This doctor thinks he can get me back to work in four weeks. FOUR WEEKS!!! After some intense physical therapy, that is.

I have to say...never thought I would miss work this much...

Argh

OK, it has been how long...and I am still not back to work?? I have a second opinion today since the ankle is just not healing. I think I have some serious ligament damage. My first doctor, however, wouldn't even do an MRI. I will let you guys know!

An Update On My Ankle

Sorry guys, I am still out. The ankle still has not healed, and I am still not at work. My FD still has not entered my claim, so I am still not getting paid!

I start PT next week, and I possibly have another three weeks out. I will update if anything changes!

A quick Question...

I can't remember who is hosting the Carnival next time, and what the topic is. Did I miss it??

Still On Workman's Comp

Well, dear readers, here I sit on my couch, a week after my injury occurred, with my left foot wrapped in an ace bandage propped up on the living room table. This crap only ever happens to me...

It was a particularly humid Thursday morning. I had gotten off of work at BFD and made the hour drive home. My time at LFD has been limited as of late due to the start of my new job, and I was hurrying to try to make it to training. I ran inside my house, took the fastest shower ever recorded (at least for me) and changed into my blues for LFD. I drove a little too frantically to the station, and made it with ten seconds to spare. A side note: one of my biggest pet peeves is running late, because I feel like I am in a hurry for the rest of the day.

We were supposed to be doing 1410 drills that day, and I was looking forward to standing in front of the pump panel for a few hours. It was not to be...I literally ran right into my chief, who muttered a remark on how he thought I was dead, and he told me he was happy to have one more for the haz-mat drill. Excuse me...haz-mat? Damn...should have stayed home...

Our scenario was as follows: Jose (our Rescue Randy mannequin is so filthy he looks Hispanic) went into the barn that holds chemicals for the local landscape company. His boss has not seen him emerge from the barn, and he sent him in a half-hour ago. Go make the rescue.

I grabbed my gear, and bunked up. Threw my airpack on, climbed up on top of the engine and got the stokes basket and the broom. On my way back around the engine I grabbed the irons, in case forcible entry had to be made. Now, after doing all of this, I could still walk just fine. I didn't fall off the engine, didn't drop the axe on my foot. Nope...still OK.

We made entry and made our rescue. I was at the foot of the stokes basket and was walking backwards (see where this is going, yet?) when I stepped in a divot in the grass. My foot went right, and my leg went left. I went down, the basket falling right on top of my left foot. I felt a sickening pop, and immediately wanted to vomit. I was trying to take my mask off, all the while forgetting my hood and my helmet were still in place. I must have screamed pretty loud...my partner and my chief ran over and started to take off my pack. I am pleased to announce I didn't ralph. But I do have a horrible habit of laughing so I don't cry. Everyone thought I was fine. They helped me up off the ground. I gingerly tried to put weight on my foot. Bad idea...the world started spinning, and the pain was so intense I thought I would pass out. I could hear my chief talking through the white light that threatened to overtake me. "Get her pants off! She may be over-heating! Take the pants off!" I realize now how that would have sounded to anyone that may have happened to walk by. My fellow brothers got my gear off, and carried me to the cot. For some reason, in my painful state, I turned down morphine. Am I a moron??? Maybe I was trying to be tough in front of my male counterparts. Who knows.

By the end of the 15 minute ride to the ED, I was in agony. I grabbed the front of my partner's shirt and pulled him down so he was nose to nose with me. "Give me the God-damned morphine", I snarled at him. He informed me, in a very squeaky voice, that we were pulling into the bay, so there was no time. I informed him the next time he lets me turn down pain meds, I will slice his balls off. Yes, I make an awesome patient.

By now I was crying, and i was unashamed. The nice thing about being a firefighter, being brought in by firefighters, you tend to get seen pretty fast. The doctor came in, took one look at my face, and returned 3 minutes later with a shot of Dilaudid. I. Love. That. Doctor.

Long story short, they thing I dislocated my ankle when I fell. The stokes basket falling on said ankle 2 seconds later probably popped it back into place. I have some decent ligament damage, which accounts for the pain I get when pressure is applied. I see the doctor again on Monday, and from there they will decide if I need physical therapy or not.

As my doctor said..."If you didn't have bad luck, you would have no luck at all!"

Things are going very well at BFD! I still only have a 50% survival rate in the back of my rig, but what can you do. I make shifts very interesting, at least! We just recently took ownership of a new ambulance, and I christened it a couple of shifts ago...

We get called for a 71 y/o male having breathing difficulty. We arrive on scene, daughter lets us know her father has been having problems catching his breath for the last day and a half. When I asked her why she waited so long to call, she said she thought it would go away. Awesome...she had no idea what her dad's history was. What meds he was on. Nothing. She only said he has "heart problems" and a lot of anxiety. ECG showed a paced rhythm, she had no idea why he had a pacemaker. She said she plans on getting around to writing it all down...one day. I told her today would have been a good day.

Lung sounds were completely clear, SpO2 was 96% on room air. Paced rhythm at 76. Hyperventilating. He did present like a panic attack. But why for a day and a half?

We got him in the rig, vitals were all good. I told the lieutenant I didn't need a third, I would be fine alone in the back of the rig with the patient. Famous last words...

Halfway to the hospital his heart rate spiked, up to 180. He started hyperventilating more. Lung sounds still clear, SpO2 still ok. he was already on O2. I told my partner to drive faster. I worked with the patient to slow his breathing. We pulled into the ambulance bay...the patient looked up at me...and said "I'm tired of breathing". BAM! Out. Freaking awesome...

Of course, this wasn't the patient I called in, the ED wasn't ready. But regardless...the room they assigned to us didn't have a bed or a monitor in it. It became such a cluster.

The next morning, the D/C came in, asked us how the new ambulance was running. My partner told him, "runs great...first death." D/C looks at me, rolls his eyes, mutters on how he has never met such a black cloud. I can't even respond anymore...I only have so many comebacks!

Kind of a boring post...I apologize. I do have many great stories...the cat fight that went on over the radio between two ECRN's that I was caught in the middle of is a great one. May have to write about that. I also injured myself during training the other day, and am now hobbling around on crutches. I am so accident prone...

More later.