As I get buzzed into the station by Chuck, my usual crew chief and mentor, I am already set to begin the comprehensive inspection of our ambulance’s inventory lovingly termed “the rig check.” With 207 items comprising said inventory, it’s not going to be a short check in any sense, but to me, it’s still one of most valuable jobs that I perform as a member of the Clinton rescue squad.
When I first joined the squad as a cadet, I marveled at the sheer quantity of tools and supplies housed within the seemingly endless cabinets, compartments, and containers of the rig. From backboards and neck collars to jumper cables and blue gatorade mix, this super-stocked crimson force of nature had every item to solve every problem that our plucky team of …show more content…
Similar to the utilitarian elastic dressing, my improvisational ability shines through in unorthodox situations. Sure, I can help a sick old lady down three stairs just as well as, if not better than, the next guy. But I like to tell myself that not every newly-certified EMT would think to stem the bleeding of a large arm wound by inflating a blood pressure cuff as the patient with said arm wound screamed bloody murder in his …show more content…
Switching out the nearly empty boxes, I drop a single small glove on the floor of the ambulance, and as I bend down to pick it up, I see the young boy whose parents called 911 at 3:00 in the morning because he woke up in respiratory distress. When my crew and I got him inside the shockingly bright, unfamiliar ambulance, he was so terrified that he began to cry uncontrollably, only adding to his breathing problems. As his oxygen levels dropped, I reached up to the glove cabinet and pulled out a single small glove. Resisting every screeching instinct to panic and rush as tears streamed freely down the young lad’s face, I pretended to calmly blow up the glove, drew a face on the thumb, and took on the role of amateur puppeteer for the fifteen minutes it took to get to the nearest
When I first joined the squad as a cadet, I marveled at the sheer quantity of tools and supplies housed within the seemingly endless cabinets, compartments, and containers of the rig. From backboards and neck collars to jumper cables and blue gatorade mix, this super-stocked crimson force of nature had every item to solve every problem that our plucky team of …show more content…
Similar to the utilitarian elastic dressing, my improvisational ability shines through in unorthodox situations. Sure, I can help a sick old lady down three stairs just as well as, if not better than, the next guy. But I like to tell myself that not every newly-certified EMT would think to stem the bleeding of a large arm wound by inflating a blood pressure cuff as the patient with said arm wound screamed bloody murder in his …show more content…
Switching out the nearly empty boxes, I drop a single small glove on the floor of the ambulance, and as I bend down to pick it up, I see the young boy whose parents called 911 at 3:00 in the morning because he woke up in respiratory distress. When my crew and I got him inside the shockingly bright, unfamiliar ambulance, he was so terrified that he began to cry uncontrollably, only adding to his breathing problems. As his oxygen levels dropped, I reached up to the glove cabinet and pulled out a single small glove. Resisting every screeching instinct to panic and rush as tears streamed freely down the young lad’s face, I pretended to calmly blow up the glove, drew a face on the thumb, and took on the role of amateur puppeteer for the fifteen minutes it took to get to the nearest